The Christian Imperative to Honour Te Tiriti o Waitangi
This piece is adapted from a sermon Stu gave on 5th February, 2023.
On February 6th, 1840 Māori rangatira and a governor acting on the Queen of England’s behalf, signed Te Tiriti o Waitangi. What was intended to bring about a desirable outcome for the prosperity of both peoples ended up being run over roughshod and largely ignored ever since.
This is not disputable.
Our history since this point speaks profoundly about the violence toward Māori by colonising powers, the treachery of illegal land confiscation, the entitlement of white people who felt they had superior genes, the syncretism of Christianity and civility, the swift and relentless pursuit of wealth at any cost by companies and government interests.
These egregious actions on the colonisers’ part were a breach of Te Tiriti and the good faith with which it was signed.
They continue today.
White Supremacy: More than Nazism
There is no question in my mind that the ongoing breaches of Te Tiriti are driven by European exceptionalism and white supremacy.
White supremacy is often associated with Nazism, and so is easily deflected—“I’m not a Nazi so I’m not a white supremacist.” But white supremacy is most often not as extreme or as obvious as that. It is the fundamental belief that white skinned people are better. This operates often at a subterranean level so is hard to identify until it’s pointed out. We don’t need to look too closely to see how embedded this is throughout our history.
There is a lot of talk about how we risk becoming a separatist nation if certain legislation is passed. The reality is that we already entrenched ourselves in that way by the continual and relentless abuse of Māori in particular over the last 183 years because the societal systems are Eurocentric: that is, the polite way of saying white. There is a naive utopianism where some claim that all are equal in New Zealand. Unfortunately this doesn’t bear out in reality. If we look at Māori land ownership since 1860 we see utter devastation and inequality.
Legislation was introduced into parliament to justify the colonisers continued taking over of land. This devastated Māori not only economically but also spiritually and sociologically, whilst at the same time confirming the “superiority” of the settlers. As Manuka Henare in his 1989 paper Māori Christians and Te Tiriti comments:
“From 1863 to 1900 settler politicians had convinced themselves that Māori were a conquered and dying race and that the provident course was to ‘smooth his dying pillow’, because nothing could save them.”
The impact of this constant overpowering presence is felt today—by both Pākehā and Māori. Positively for Pākehā, not so much for Māori. This power is still operating, and it is still very real.
Conflicting Worlds and Broken Promises
Something is broken. The breaches are not artefacts of history, rather they evolved into subterranean systemic currents that will continually undermine Te Tiriti if not acknowledged and addressed. By its very nature, a treaty is intended to bring a solid resolution often between conflicting parties and by their very nature they are binding in perpetuity.
Conflicting worlds were very apparent when Māori in the north enacted their laws of justice upon settlers and sailors who had breached their laws. And naturally the settlers retaliated. At the beginning the actual governing powers of the colonists were so limited that even if they wanted to enforce justice, they were unable to do so. Chaotic and unruly Pākehā behaviour turned settlements into lawless cesspits.
As Māori observed this increasing lawlessness, disrespect toward their tikanga and the pending influx of other European nations into Aotearoa, they knew a pandora’s box had been opened. There was no return to the ‘way things were’. Something needed to be done to stop the ruptures.
Te Tiriti was intended to create a boundary for negotiation. Pākehā were to look after Pākehā and Māori after Māori. Their affairs would often cross over, but each had their own sovereignty in matters of culture, law, order, and trade. Father Servant, who attended the Waitangi meeting with Pompallier made this observation:
“The governor proposes to the tribal chiefs that they recognise his authority: he gives them to understand that this authority is to maintain good order, and protect their respective interests; that all chiefs will preserve their powers and their possessions. A great number of the latter speak, and display in turn all their Māori eloquence. Most of the orators do not want the governor to extend his authority over the natives, but only over the Europeans. Others do not even want the governor to remain in New Zealand.” [Translation of letter to Fr Colin, 5 March 1840, in Turner 1986:88.]
It would be a relationship of equals to bring about a peaceable co-existence in this land. Unfortunately, as you are well aware, this never happened.
The Treaty as a Covenant
Manuka Henare’s take:
“At the signing on February 6, two Anglican Rangatira, Hone Heke and Eruera Maihi Patuone of Ngāpuhi spoke of the benefits the governor would bring. Heke said it would be like that of the New Testament, Te Kawanata Hou (the new covenant). Patuone spoke strongly of the relationship with Britain and he associated Hobson with the benefits brought by the missionaries, and with Te Kawanata Hou.”
Henare shows how the treaty is a Christian covenant. It was referred to as He Kawanata by Māori and seen with all the sacredness that comes with the Christian understanding of a covenant. Think of the covenants of Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Moses, David and then most relevantly for us especially today, the New Covenant at the last supper. The sacredness of these moments is where heaven and earth meet eye to eye, to promise that the best of our divine image (true humanity) can be seen.
The missionaries at the centre, who drafted Te Tiriti and were part of the counsel for both Māori and Pākehā, were acutely aware of it being viewed as kawanata (covenant). They were not gearing up for deception. They were writing for a better hope and future. It wasn’t until decades later that the mission efforts eventually sided with colonising powers.
Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount: “Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from the evil one” (Matthew 5:37).
A covenant is the strongest word and as such it’s a matter of the integrity of the Gospel and how Christ is represented implicitly in the agreement and absolutely misrepresented in the actions that followed. Fundamentally then, any breach of covenant veers toward blasphemy as it compromises God’s immutable “Yes”.
The Role of Repentance
It is not enough to simply say ‘sorry.’ In this case, a breach of covenant requires repentance and reparation—arguably what is really missing in the Tribunal settlements is repentance.
The story of Zacchaeus is important here. Zacchaeus was a tax collector or, in other words, an agent of the systemic economic powers of Roman imperialism. He would abuse his power by extracting more money from citizens than the simple tax. His dishonesty would enslave citizens to him through unpaid debt.
Jesus dines with him and his life is changed forever. Note how salvation came to the house when he repented through action. Zacchaeus could have simply said, “Oh, I won’t carry on doing that from now on”—but that doesn’t comprehend the damage he has inflicted on others. Repentance and reparation go hand in hand.
Here’s a thought experiment for us.
Let’s say that Zacchaeus made the promise but never followed through on it.
Are his children or grandchildren liable for that? Do they have any responsibility here?
What would the children of those whom Zacchaeus impoverished think? What would you say to them?
Where is righteousness and justice in this space?
Time only makes resolutions more complex, but doesn’t make the injustice irrelevant. For me, the key reason Te Tiriti is a Christian issue is because it’s about a relationship that needs reconciliation.
I want to put forward again my definition of sin—sin is anything that dehumanises. If we accept that definition, then we must accept that white New Zealanders have benefitted from this sin.
I am reminded of some characters in the book of Amos. If you could read it in the framework of the ancient classics it might be a bit more palatable, as the description the prophet uses is not very woke. But I remember reading it as a teenager and the example of how God responds to the nonchalant excesses of greed and power hasn’t left me since.
Amos talks to these women who live in ignorant luxury: it’s the following caricature that makes a damning point:
Hear this word, you cows of Bashan
who are on Mount Samaria,
who oppress the poor, who crush the needy,
who say to their husbands, “Bring something to drink!”
The Lord GOD has sworn by his holiness:
The time is surely coming upon you,
when they shall take you away with hooks,
even the last of you with fishhooks.
Through breaches in the wall you shall leave,
each one straight ahead;
and you shall be flung out…
says the LORD.…
Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory,
and lounge on their couches,
and eat lambs from the flock,
and calves from the stall;
who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp,
and like David improvise on instruments of music;
who drink wine from bowls,
and anoint themselves with the finest oils,
but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!
Therefore they shall now be the first to go into exile,
and the revelry of the loungers shall pass away.
—Amos 4:1-3; 6:4-7.
I believe the rebuke should catch our ear. It should make us pause and ask, is that directed toward me too? Realistically, there are some things mere mortals such as many of us can’t do anything about. But I can’t help feel that we should have an uncomfortable relationship with power, privilege and wealth as they so easily dehumanise people.
And now, as with all Gospel challenges, it seems too great for us to handle. It’s too idealistic and lacks the nuance of modern day living. Well, that’s a ‘yes’ and ‘no’ (ironically, after the quote from Gospel of Matthew!).
I know guilt is not the answer as it can be a paralysing force. This sermon is not meant to induce guilt for living in privilege. However, knowing what powers either ‘wish to’ or ‘do’ control us is the key to finding a way forward. Being mindful of what we benefit from because of injustice of the past is an agency for change. Understanding this and then stepping up to the challenge of societal change is where I think we need to head.
There are things we can do to call the systemic powers to account, because like climate change, our individual response is our practice—but not where the real change needs to take place. We need to tackle the systems, and that’s much better done together. In old school language, we need to repent. Reorient ourselves to a vision of the Kingdom of God’s justice.
Put bluntly, the breach of Te Tiriti is sin. And because it acts in bad faith with the promise of the Gospel, our power and privilege needs to be held to account. And that has not happened anywhere to the extent it should have—there’s so much to do. Our role as Christians is to be ambassadors for Christ, seeking reconciliation and justice that we are implicitly embedded in.