Abstract
Understandings of Te Tiriti o Waitangi continue to unfold as we find our way through the complexities of colonial misinformation about our herstory and history. Looking ahead to the prospect of constitutional transformation, this paper examines honourable kāwanatanga as a necessary pathway to Tiriti justice. This commentary paper draws on existing literature and insights from the Māori and Tauiwi authors’ decades of experience of pursuing Tiriti justice. The Crown has consistently breached Te Tiriti and engaged in dishonourable kāwanatanga. Māori have always resisted colonisation and imagined a future where Te Tiriti was honoured. Latterly, Tauiwi in increasing numbers have also joined this resistance. The preamble of Te Tiriti o Waitangi articulates the desire of rangatira and the British to enter into a relationship of goodwill and peace. Rangatira reasonably anticipated that the British would behave honourably. The subsequent displacement of Māori from land, language, economy and cultural traditions from 1840 onwards, resulted in devastating intergenerational harms and losses. Ani Mikaere has argued that the Māori–Crown relationship has deteriorated to the point of resembling the dynamics of an abusive relationship. This characterisation suggests an unequal and harmful interaction, where one party holds power and control over the other, often at the expense of the latter’s rights, well-being, and autonomy, whilst societal institutions and common sense, deeply support the abuser. Honourable kāwanatanga, as a tool for transformations toward social justice, is often used as an intentional description to mark Tiriti-centric governance as opposed to deep-rooted dishonourable, Tiriti-breaching governance. This form of abuse characterises the ongoing colonial hegemony which has generated and maintained institutional racism and monoculturalism and allowed it to flourish within the public service and many other sectors of society. The notion of honourable kāwanatanga intersects with the call of Matike Mai and supports collective Indigenous peoples’ rights.
Keywords
Introduction
From first contact, the relationship between Māori and Tauiwi (an inclusive term for non-Māori settlers) in Aotearoa was defined by tikanga ā-hapū (sub-tribe sovereignty). Both He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Nū Tīreni (the Declaration of Independence of the United Tribes) 1835 and Te Tiriti o Waitangi 1840 reaffirmed hapū self-determination (Healy et al., 2012). These oral and written testaments established the terms and conditions of Tauiwi settlement. They affirmed existing relationships between rangatira (Māori leaders) and the British Crown, granted the British the right to govern their own (settler) people and reaffirmed hapū tino rangatiratanga (authority and self-determination) over all human activity in Aotearoa. Te Tiriti also affirmed cultural and religious freedom and equitable citizenship rights.
The preamble of Te Tiriti articulates the desire of the British to enter a relationship of goodwill and peace with rangatira and hapū. It formulates the Crown statement of intent based on high regard for Māori and its determination to take responsibility for British nationals already in Aotearoa in order to protect Māori rights, property and people (Healy et al., 2012). Hobson emphasised this point in a proclamation on 5th February 1840 as he sought assent to Te Tiriti: Her Majesty, always ready to protect her subjects, is also always ready to restrain them. Her Majesty the Queen asks you to sign this treaty and to give her that power which shall enable her to restrain them. (Hobson as cited by Waretini-Karena, 2017: 704).
This poised, negotiated stance implies and enacts the honour and standing of the British Crown as a trustworthy and supportive ally of Māori, points that can again be seen in a subsequent letter of 27th April 1840 from Hobson to rangatira published by the missionary press in Paihia: the Governor [Kawana] will always strive to protect the social order and customs [tikanga] and all the possessions [taonga] of the Māori people; the Governor [Kawana] will also preserve to you the peace [rongo] [meaning secure tenure], the management [atawai], and the cultivations [ahuwhenuatanga] of this country. (translation by S.Healy Hobson, 1840 April 27).
Article One of Te Tiriti.
Within Article One, Māori agreed to pass kāwanatanga, that is, governorship, 1 which Belich (1986) has referred to as Governor’s authority, to the Crown. Specific roles were delegated to the British to control the wayward behaviour of some Pākehā (white) settlers (Mikaere, 2011).
This complex binding contractual association between the honour of the Crown and the provisions of kāwanatanga, signed and countersigned by rangatira and the Crown representative, has been seen by multiple commentators and critics as of crucial importance to Te Tiriti justice (Durie, 1998; Mutu, 2010; Yensen et al., 1989).
The wero of Matike Mai
Māori have been discussing constitutional transformation for decades (Durie, 1995, 2002; Mulholland and Tawhai, 2011; Mutu, 2018; Mutu et al., 2022). Matike Mai Aotearoa (2016) is a visionary project mandated by the Iwi Chairs’ Forum to explore constitutional transformation. Margaret Mutu and Moana Jackson led an extensive engagement consisting of 252 hui with Māori communities over a 2-year period (Mutu et al., 2022; Potter and Jackson, 2018). Discussion centred around what a Te Tiriti, He Whakaputanga, tikanga-based future would look like. Through this exhaustive process they identified relevant values to guide the work, and three distinct spheres (see Figure 1) – the rangatiratanga sphere (Māori-led), the kāwanatanga sphere (for everyone including Māori) and the relational sphere where decisions relevant to both primary spheres would be made together. Matike Mai spheres.
Matike Mai Aotearoa (2016: 17 ) aimed to conceive of : a constitution for good, just and participatory government for and by all peoples [that] is consistent with those values and benefits everyone in the changing demographics of this country where all New Zealanders can prosper and celebrate our heritage. … We also set a longer-term aim of encouraging all New Zealanders to see a more inclusive understanding of the relationships that are meant to be constitutionally acknowledged through Te Tiriti.
Tauiwi were requested to respond to the proposal by 2020 and a deadline of 2040 was given to implement the vision of constitutional transformation. Tiriti and antiracism educators have integrated Matike Mai into their conscientisation and decolonisation efforts (Tāmaki Tiriti Workers, 2017). Rangatahi have established vibrant Facebook learning communities attracting thousands of members by mid-2024 and a multiplicity of public meetings and webinars have been hosted around the kaupapa, while others (Came et al., 2021a; Came et al., 2021b; Came et al., 2022) responded by articulating how Matike Mai might be applied in the context of the health sector and anti-racism praxis. Lockie (2018) compared the vision of Matike Mai to Palmer and Butler’s (2016) constitutional vision, while Webb (2023) in their master’s thesis questioned whether it was possible to have a tino rangatiratanga sphere within the context of settler-colonial capitalism.
Responding to the challenge and inspiration of Matike Mai, this paper is an exploration of the published literature pertaining to honourable kāwanatanga, and it is undertaken to support efforts to prepare for the 2040 deadline of constitutional transformation.
The concept of ‘honourable kāwanatanga' in Aotearoa aligns closely with international frameworks and principles concerning Indigenous rights and governance. This connection is particularly evident in relation to the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, adopted in 2007.
UNDRIP articulates the collective right of Indigenous peoples to self-determination, which includes the right to autonomy or self-government in matters relating to internal and local affairs. This principle resonates strongly with the concept of honourable kāwanatanga, which emphasises governance that respects and upholds the guarantees made in Te Tiriti o Waitangi, particularly regarding Māori sovereignty and self-determination.
Furthermore, UNDRIP emphasises the right of Indigenous peoples to participate in decision-making processes that affect their rights. This provision underscores the importance of meaningful consultation and prior, informed consent in matters directly impacting Indigenous lives and territories. Honourable kāwanatanga similarly calls for inclusive governance that addresses the needs and aspirations of Māori as determined by Māori.
The international concept of free, prior and informed consent also aligns with honourable kāwanatanga. Free, prior and informed consent requires that Indigenous peoples are consulted and give consent before any project affecting lands or resources is approved. This principle is reflected in the aspiration of honourable kāwanatanga for authentic partnership and shared decision-making between the Crown and Māori.
In the broader context of post-colonial nations, honourable kāwanatanga shares similarities with concepts like ‘reconciliation’ in Canada and Australia, and ‘nation-to-nation relationship’ in Canada. These concepts all grapple with how to address historical injustices and create more equitable relationships between Indigenous peoples and settler governments.
However, honourable kāwanatanga is unique in its specific connection to Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the historical context of Aotearoa. It represents a localised approach to implementing universal principles of Indigenous rights and just governance, tailored to the particular historical, cultural, and legal context of Aotearoa.
By situating honourable kāwanatanga within this international framework, we can see how it contributes to a global movement towards recognising and upholding Indigenous rights, while also addressing the specific needs and aspirations of Māori in Aotearoa.
The Crown’s position on kāwanatanga
In a sustained performance of strategic amnesia and/or wilful ignorance, the Crown over the last 180+ years has declared, assumed and artfully protected its claims to unitary parliamentary sovereignty and Tiriti-breaching kāwanatanga over the citizens of Aotearoa.
Shortly after the negotiation of Te Tiriti in arguably an ‘inaugural’ breach of Te Tiriti, the British Crown illegitimately declared sovereignty, over Te Ika a Maui (the North Island) by treaty and Te Wai Pounamu (the South Island) by discovery (Healy, 2019). The illicit, nominal power (Belich, 1986) so gained, was vested in a series of governors (starting with Hobson) and used to control and direct the development of the fledgling nation state through massive pre-planned immigration schemes, both public and private, intended and destined to shift the population balance in favour of Pākehā. Along with, huge incremental land ‘purchases’ (Boast, 2008), economic hostility (Petrie, 2007) and open warfare (Belich, 1986; O'Malley, 2016), this enabled the displacement of the Indigenous participatory decision-making of hapū and iwi by rudimentary, selective electoral ‘democratic’ representation (private property-owning male enfranchisement only for the first 50 years) based on simple numerical superiority and settler hegemony (Petrie, 2007).
The exclusive, non-democratic Crown sovereignty and control was consolidated through multiple pieces of legislation (including the Native Lands Act, 1862 and the New Zealand Settlements Act, 1863), policies of forced assimilation, warfare and mass migration. British assumption of unitary parliamentary sovereignty over all New Zealanders has always been contested by Māori (Healy et al., 2012; Sadler, 2015; Walker, 1990). The Waitangi Tribunal (2014) in their Wai 1040 report confirmed that Ngāpuhi (therefore Māori) never ceded sovereignty. This finding was in keeping with the international legal doctrine of contra proferentem, and the sheer number of rangatira (plus Hobson) who signed the Māori text rather than the English version (Berghan et al., 2017). Immediately after the release of the landmark Wai 1040 report (Waitangi Tribunal, 2014), then Minister of Treaty of Waitangi Negotiations, Christopher Finlayson as cited in Bennett and Quilliam (2014), falsely asserted “There is no question that the Crown has sovereignty in New Zealand. This report doesn’t change that fact” (para. 7).
The Crown’s ongoing incorrect and misleading assumption of sovereignty over all New Zealanders and privileging of the Treaty of Waitangi (the English text) over Te Tiriti, the authoritative Māori text remains a profoundly problematic paradox within our increasingly conservative, repressive democracy. The Cabinet Office (2019, October 22), in its advisory circular to Ministers and Crown officials, presents a confused and misleading position on both kāwanatanga and sovereignty. O’Sullivan et al. (2021) in their critique argued that the assumptions that the Government rightly has just and incontestable kāwanatanga over Māori, that the Crown is the senior Tiriti partner and holds unitary sovereignty, are entirely problematic.
As we have argued elsewhere (McCreanor, in press) the Crown seemingly unreflexively, ambiguously, and certainly without consensus, refers variously to Te Tiriti, the Treaty and Treaty principles in what constitutes a case study in populist misinformation. In spite of their subsequent development by the judiciary, royal commissions, government departments, universities and through legislation (Hayward, 1997), the ‘Treaty Principles’ have always been problematic as they involve the unilateral re-interpretation of Te Tiriti by the Crown, based on the English text. Māori scholars such as Margaret Mutu, Moana Jackson and Mason Durie have long emphasised the point that Māori are committed to Te Tiriti, rather than the English version or the Treaty principles (Durie, 1994; Jackson, 1995; Mutu, 2010). However well- or (ill)-intentioned the authors of the principles have been, they serve to distract citizens from reading the one-page Māori text and its legitimate translation to come to their own informed conclusions.
Reclaiming honourable kāwanatanga
Mitzi Nairn (2011), a key leader of the Pākehā Tiriti workers movement, steadfastly articulated the notion that the quest of Tiriti workers was to be “the Pākehā that Māori thought they were negotiating with, in good faith in 1840”. For those of us with deep Pākehā histories and herstories in this whenua, Tiriti work can be a way to take responsibilities for the colonial actions and inactions of our ancestors and political antecedents (Came, 2015). It can be a way to repay our accumulating moral, ethical and fiscal debt to Māori and try to manage and redress some of the intergenerational white privilege of settler colonisation. Embracing Te Tiriti as Pākehā (Huygens, 2007) can be about commitment to social justice, a recognition of the interconnections of oppression, and increasingly a love story that shapeshifts into whakapapa, whānau and lives and histories entwined.
For newer migrants (Dam, 2022; Omura, 2014), the desire to embrace Te Tiriti and engage authentically with Māori can be about being a good citizen in one’s new chosen homeland, about being respectful of those already here or a shared experience of settler colonisation and racial discrimination. Asians Supporting Tino Rangatiratanga and Tangata Tiriti – Treaty People are two key groups working with Asian and new migrant communities to ensure they are well informed about Te Tiriti and the colonial context of Aotearoa. For Pacifica peoples with rich whakapapa connections with Māori that pre-date Te Tiriti (Tui’tahi and Puloka, 2020; Abbott, 2022), the desire to be respectful and honourable can come from a recognition of the close tuakana–teina (older and younger sibling) relationships across Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa. Indeed. The concept of Tangata Tiriti is a contested term in local discourse on settler identity and relationship to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. While Dam (2022) views it as a unique status that comes with ethical-political responsibilities for non-Māori, particularly Asian New Zealanders, Simon (2023) argued for abandoning the term. Simon contends that Tangata Tiriti fails to adequately address Indigenous sovereignty (mana motuhake) and self-determination (tino rangatiratanga), and suggests it’s rooted in problematic neoliberal and settler colonial frameworks. The debate highlights the complex nature of identity, belonging, and treaty relationships in the multicultural context in Aotearoa.
Māori have always resisted colonisation and dishonourable kāwanatanga (Bargh, 2007; Harris, 2004; Penehira et al., 2014; Pihama et al., 2019a, 2019b; Walker, 1990). This resistance has taken the form of actions such as: chopping down flagpoles; petitions and letters to the royal family, politicians and mayors; legal action; hīkoi; occupations; taking urgent action to the Waitangi Tribunal; forming political parties; language revitalisation programmes; and creative art works. Reiterating the words of Ngāti Maniapoto leader Rewi Maniapoto, Ranginui Walker (1990) called it “ka whawhai tonu mātou” – the struggle without end, which has been an inspiration down through the generations.
The exact origins of the term ‘honourable kāwanatanga” are unclear but it has been used by Tiriti workers since the 1990s (Kāwanatanga Network, 1996; Network Waitangi and Associates, 1995). One reason for this ambiguity is the organic evolution of language within social movements and academic discourse. Terms like ‘honourable kāwanatanga’ often emerge gradually through grassroots activism, scholarly dialogue, and community engagement, making it difficult to identify a single point of origin. Activist movements and academic circles rely more on oral tradition, personal accounts, and informal exchanges, which can make it challenging to establish a clear timeline for the term’s introduction.
It is a term that has been assumed to be fundamental by many scholars (Belich, 1986; Walker, 1990; Yensen et al., 1989). Honourable kāwanatanga is often used as an intentional description to mark Tiriti-centric governance as opposed to dishonourable Tiriti-breaching governance that has allowed institutional racism and monoculturalism to flourish within the public service. It can refer to governance that aspires to be authentic and responsive to Te Tiriti responsibilities. Specifically, that means governance that is inclusive of Māori and addresses the needs and aspirations of Māori as determined by Māori.
The notion of honourable kāwanatanga intersects with support for collective Indigenous peoples’ rights as outlined in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) (United Nations, 2007). UNDRIP was developed to safeguard the rights, dignity, and well-being of Indigenous communities worldwide. It articulates the collective right of Indigenous peoples to engage in self-determination, an inherent right to govern and shape Indigenous futures according to Indigenous customs, traditions, and aspirations. It also emphasises the right of Indigenous peoples to participate in decision-making processes that affect Indigenous rights, lands, and resources. This provision underscores the importance of meaningful consultation and prior, informed consent to all development of their lands and resources, ensuring that Indigenous communities have a voice in kāwanatanga and matters that directly impact Indigenous lives and territories.
The development of UNDRIP was driven by Indigenous leaders from around the world (including many Māori) and serves as a comprehensive framework for promoting and protecting the collective and individual rights of the world’s Indigenous peoples. It plays a crucial role in advancing global efforts to promote justice, equality and equity, and respect for the rights and dignity of Indigenous peoples to build a future grounded in self-determination, cultural resilience, and social justice. Both UNDRIP and honourable kāwanatanga advocate for the recognition of Indigenous rights, including the right to self-determination, cultural preservation and advancement, and meaningful participation in decision-making processes. They underscore the importance of acknowledging historical injustices and working towards reconciliation and justice for the 370 million Indigenous peoples who have lived in all corners of the world for many thousands of years.
Reconciliation and the harm of dishonourable kāwanatanga
The oppression of Indigenous people through settler colonisation is a global story (Paradies, 2016; Redvers et al., 2023) fuelled by the doctrine of discovery and the papal bulls that legitimised the wholesale ransacking of Africa, Asia, Central and South America, and Oceania (Ruru et al., 2010). The displacement of Indigenous peoples from land, language, and cultural traditions results in tangible individual and collective intergenerational trauma (Thom and Grimes, 2022; Waretini-Karena, 2017). Ethnic inequities in health, education and employment outcomes are not normal; they are an indication of the presence of systemic racism.
Given the history of institutional racism against Māori (Came, 2014; Awatere, 1984; Goza et al., 2022; Ministerial Advisory Committee on a Māori Perspective for the Department of Social Welfare, 1988; Smith et al., 2021; Sutherland, 2020; Tan et al., 2024; Workman, 2011), from within the kāwanatanga sphere much needs to be done to get the kāwanatanga whare (house) in order for the prospect of constitutional transformation.
Indeed, Mikaere (2011) argued that the relationship between the Crown and Māori has deteriorated to the point of resembling an abusive dynamic. This characterisation suggests a deeply unequal and harmful interaction, where one party holds power and control over the other, often at the expense of the latter’s rights, well-being, and autonomy. Mikaere’s assertion underscores the profound and enduring impact of colonialism on the relationship between the New Zealand Government and Māori, highlighting the need for meaningful reconciliation, redress, and the restoration of justice to address historical injustices and foster genuine partnership and respect.
Country-level reconciliation, whether it be reconciling from settler colonisation, slavery, apartheid or genocide, is a massive challenge facing nation states as we face up to our violent pasts (and presents). Many countries (Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation, 1994; Fontaine, 2016; Mitchell, 2017; Truth and Reconciliation Commission, 1999; Webster, 2017) have introduced truth and reconciliation tribunals and hearings so people can be heard, injustices documented and reparations/justice dispensed. Some have taken cases to the International Court of Justice in the Hague and others have embraced strategic amnesia, forgetting where their wealth came from and ignoring the massive economic inequities within countries and across the globe (Payne and Norman, 2024).
In Aotearoa, despite sustained, widespread, often large-scale Māori-led protests, we have seen piecemeal, minimal, and begrudging change and limited recognition of Indigenous rights and Te Tiriti (Bell et al., 2017). The glacial pace at which change happened brings to mind Moana Jackson’s acute observation that “incrementalism is stasis” (Bell et al., 2017; see also Mahuta, 2022). The Treaty of Waitangi Act (1975) produced the Waitangi Tribunal, our local version of a truth and reconciliation commission. The Tribunal remains underfunded, and its evidence-based findings and recommendations are not binding on the Crown. But, for some hapū and iwi (Fisher and Parsons, 2020; Joyce and Forsyth, 2022; Wheen and Hayward, 2012), financial settlements, the return of land, co-management agreements and apologies have created opportunity and possibilities. The ongoing nature of what appears to be intentional Tiriti breaches from successive governments, notably the Foreshore Seabed legislation (Charters and Erueti, 2007) and the recent disestablishment of Te Aka Whai Ora (the Māori Health Authority) (Came et al., 2024), makes it difficult to remain faithful to a vision of honourable kāwanatanga in our lifetimes.
The evidence shows us hundreds of ways to honourably share power. Cunningham (2013), in a paper exploring Te Tiriti as a social contract, uses the example of superannuation to make the case that honourable kāwanatanga may involve proportional universalism (Wilkinson and Marmot, 2003). He posits that, given Māori have shorter life expectancies, they should be able to access superannuation earlier than other population groups. This would serve to alleviate the intergenerational impact of colonisation. Bishop (2003), Hutchings and Lee (2016) and Curtis et al. (2014) have all written about decolonising education and sharing power in classrooms. Whānau ora is an approach grounded in the health sector to recentre mātauranga Māori and disrupt monocultural practice (Boulton, 2019; Chant, 2011; Whānau Ora Taskforce, 2009). Linda Tuhiwai Smith (1999) published her landmark text on processes to decolonise research.
Citizens initiatives for constitutional transformation
If we know how to share power and decolonise, the question remains – why don’t we? Audre Lorde (1984: 110) in her essay noted that “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house”. Particular population groups benefit from the inequities of the legacies of settler colonisation. They (usually, white men) have a vested interest in keeping their wealth and white privilege (Elliott, 2014, December 9). Nonetheless despite chronic intergenerational hardships, people have always looked to the stars, searched their hearts and imagined alternative futures.
The term ‘honourable kāwanatanga’ has been instrumentalised by Pākehā Tiriti workers since the 1980s to inform efforts to conscientise and educate Pākehā about colonial history and inspire them to pursue Tiriti justice. In the 1990s activists and educators (led by Karena Way, Jane Cooper, Joan Macdonald and Mitzi Nairn) launched The Honourable Kāwanatanga Register (Network Waitangi and Associates, 1995). This register was a public demonstration of solidarity with tangata whenua, to show the support of Tauiwi for living in a nation developed from the restoration of tino rangatiratanga. In her speech at the launch of the register, Way (1995: 5) noted the performative use of Te Tiriti in vision and mission statements and emphasised the importance of action for tino rangatiratanga “the words are great – and action, well, it’s the living of those words. Let us create and live our history.”
The Waikato-based Kāwanatanga Network (1996) explored honourable kāwanatanga in the context of constitutional transformation centring both He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Nū Tīreni (The Declaration of Independence) and Te Tiriti. The network maintained that, to have power, constitutional ideas must belong to ‘ordinary’ Pākehā/Tauiwi so they cannot be brushed aside by those currently directing the country. For transformation to occur, Pākehā/Tauiwi need to transform colonial systems and ways of being. The Kāwanatanga Network argued that individualism, private property and the purposes of capitalism all undermine full engagement with Te Tiriti. To prepare for deep, authentic relationship requires addressing colonial and racist assumptions about Māori. Collective human rights to the necessities of life (shelter, food, potable water) and equitable access to public services such as healthcare and education need to be protected. For thriving together, cultural respect, spiritual openness, human connection and the well-being of the collective must be embraced. Citizens need input into the development of social, political and economic policy and Māori as Indigenous peoples must have a final word or veto over policy and legislation.
Tauiwi initiatives for constitutional transformation and honourable kāwanatanga have played a crucial role in advancing Tiriti justice in Aotearoa. These efforts, led by allies, demonstrate a growing recognition of the importance of addressing historical injustices and promoting equitable partnerships. The Honourable Kāwanatanga Register (Network Waitangi and Associates, 1995) and the work of the Kāwanatanga Network (1996) exemplify early attempts to mobilize Pākehā support for Tiriti-based governance. More recent initiatives, such as Asians Supporting Tino Rangatiratanga and Tangata Tiriti – Treaty People, have expanded this work to include newer migrant communities. These grassroots movements have contributed to broader public awareness and engagement with Tiriti issues, challenging the dominant colonial narrative and fostering a more inclusive vision of New Zealand’s future.
Co-governance and sharing power
Across the globe, similar principles to New Zealand’s honourable kawanatanga can be found in various contexts, reflecting a commitment to partnership, collaboration, and equitable governance. Nations with Indigenous populations have established treaties, agreements, or legal frameworks recognising Indigenous rights to self-governance, land, and resources. For instance, agreements between Indigenous tribes and colonial powers in North America, such as the Treaties of Peace and Friendship, acknowledge Indigenous sovereignty. Similarly, Australia’s Native Title Act 1993 and agreements in Scandinavia, like the Sámi Parliament in Norway and Sweden, highlight efforts to respect Indigenous autonomy and the cultural rights of Indigenous peoples.
In numerous regions, collaborative arrangements between government entities and Indigenous or local communities facilitate shared responsibilities for managing natural resources, protected areas, or cultural heritage sites. Examples include co-management agreements in Canada’s national parks and co-governance arrangements in parts of Latin America and Africa, understanding which promote decision-making processes that honour local knowledge, values, and rights. Some countries embrace policies of multiculturalism or pluralism, acknowledging and respecting diverse cultural identities and rights within their borders. These policies foster social cohesion and intercultural dialogue while supporting inclusive governance structures that accommodate the interests of various cultural communities. In regions marked by ethnic, linguistic, or cultural diversity, decentralisation policies grant significant autonomy to local or regional governments. This autonomy enables greater representation, participation, and decision-making power for minority or Indigenous communities within their territories, enhancing local governance and community empowerment.
Finally, truth and reconciliation commissions, akin to South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, have been established in multiple countries to address historical injustices, promote healing, and foster national unity (Cronin, 2017). Though not directly tied to governance structures, these processes play a crucial role in acknowledging past wrongs and advancing reconciliation efforts toward a more inclusive and just society (Androff, 2010). The establishment of truth is crucial for genuine reconciliation in Aotearoa, mirroring the process undertaken in South Africa post-apartheid. While the Waitangi Tribunal serves a similar function to South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, its scope and impact remain limited. A comprehensive truth-telling process could address the full extent of colonial injustices, fostering a shared understanding of history. This process is essential for healing intergenerational trauma and building a foundation for honourable kāwanatanga (Mikaere, 2011). By confronting uncomfortable truths about settler colonialism, Aotearoa can move towards meaningful reconciliation and constitutional transformation. However, this requires political will and public engagement beyond current efforts.
While each of these concepts may differ in their specific manifestations and contexts, they all share fundamental principles of partnership, rights recognition, and inclusive governance. Through these approaches, societies aim to address historical injustices and build equitable relationships among diverse cultural or ethnic groups, reflecting a universal commitment to fairness and justice. Co-governance and power-sharing approaches provide practical frameworks for realising the ideals of honourable kāwanatanga in contemporary governance contexts (Barnes, 2023). They enable the Crown and Māori to work together as equal partners, fostering trust, collaboration, and accountability in decision-making processes. Through these mechanisms, Aotearoa can honour Te Tiriti and build a more just and equitable society for all its citizens.
Conclusion: Māori final word
Almost 200 years after a solemn agreement was made between sovereign nations and formalised in the form of a binding contract, it is salutary to reflect on how one partner deliberately and proactively sought to undermine the promises and guarantees inherent in that agreement. Throughout that time and over multiple generations Māori have never ceased talking about and taking action on Te Tiriti and the promises made to our ancestors. The pain and hurt incurred by generations of Māori, and shared by our Tauiwi allies, drive efforts to have Te Tiriti recognised and acknowledged as a beacon of hope for generations to come. Indeed, as many commentators have noted, every New Zealand settler or Tauiwi has a moral obligation to ensure that honourable kāwanatanga drives initiatives that determine and shape the direction of our society. This can only happen when all people in Aotearoa understand how honourable kāwanatanga enriches the lives of everyone and implements policies and practices to ensure that this occurs, albeit almost two centuries after the compact was designed and agreed to. Efforts to entrench honourable kāwanatanga in policies and practices must be resourced and supported so that our mokopuna and future generations can enjoy the equitable outcomes that rangatira envisioned when they entered into a solemn agreement with new arrivals to Aotearoa in 1840. This article provides insights about how honourable kāwanatanga must be embedded in a Tiriti-based vision for constitutional transformation.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Thanks to those working inside and outside the Crown for honourable kāwanatanga.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Data Availability Statement
Data used is already publicly available.
