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He tuhinga tēnei hei whakamārama i te whakatewhatewhatanga i ngā raru o ngā kaipupuri whenua kei ngā whenua tarahiti. Arā noa atu ngā hua kei ngā whenua e takoto ana, heoi anō, arā noa atu ngā aupēhinga ka piri ki ngā whānau kia huihui rātau mō ō rātau whenua. Ko tēnei rangahau ka whai whakaaro mō ngā raru kei roto i ngā Taitara Whenua Māori. Me pēhea e taea ai te whakapakari i ngā hiahia o te whānau kia kore ai e warea te one tapu? 1.4666 miriona heketea o ngā whenua kei ngā ringa o Māori e pupuri ana. E hāngai ana tēnei ki te 5.5% o te katoa o Aotearoa. Ināianei, e 27,308 ngā Taitara whenua, e 2.7 miriona heketea ko taiapahia hei whenua takitahi. Koianei ka titiro ki ētahi raru i puta mai e pā ana ki ngā Kaipupuri Whenua, kei ngā kare ā-roto pea ētahi whakamārama.

The New Zealand government has introduced a COVID-19 domestic vaccine pass to be used in conjunction with the COVID-19 Protection Framework. The Framework is likely to be activated soon after Cabinet meets on 29 November 2021. The pass will be necessary to access places and events that require proof of vaccination under the Framework. This brief does not argue for or against the introduction of a domestic vaccine pass, but rather discusses key issues that it raises for Māori, and suggests actions to address them. We see four key issues: • the lack of Māori involvement, as a Tiriti partner, on either the design or implementation of the COVID-19 domestic vaccine pass; • disproportionate restriction on Māori mobility due to lower Māori vaccination rates; • privacy and data security concerns; • uneven implementation that could increase discrimination against Māori and other groups considered to pose a risk to others’ safety. To respond to these issues we recommend that the implementation of the pass be designed in partnership with Māori and comply with Māori data sovereignty requirements. As Tiriti partners, Māori should expect that the pass will keep their communities safe, while providing opportunities to enact manaakitanga in the matrix of care, and the mana to manage their own affairs.

As the global ‘data revolution’ accelerates, how can the data rights and interests of indigenous peoples be secured? Premised on the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, this book argues that indigenous peoples have inherent and inalienable rights relating to the collection, ownership and application of data about them, and about their lifeways and territories. As the first book to focus on indigenous data sovereignty, it asks: what does data sovereignty mean for indigenous peoples, and how is it being used in their pursuit of self-determination? The varied group of mostly indigenous contributors theorise and conceptualise this fast-emerging field and present case studies that illustrate the challenges and opportunities involved. These range from indigenous communities grappling with issues of identity, governance and development, to national governments and NGOs seeking to formulate a response to indigenous demands for data ownership. While the book is focused on the CANZUS states of Canada, Australia, Aotearoa/New Zealand and the United States, much of the content and discussion will be of interest and practical value to a broader global audience.

Situated 65 kilometres south-east of Hamilton, Putāruru (population 3747 in the 2013 Census) is typical of the many farming service towns scattered across rural Aotearoa New Zealand. Bakeries, op shops, a sports bar and a farm equipment supplier occupy the main street. Unlike nearby Tirau, which transformed from a one-stop shop into a vibrant boutique village in the late 1990s, Putāruru township remains largely indistinguishable from other rural centres. There are few clues to the substantial farming-based and water-generated wealth that lies beyond the town.

This thesis investigates the evolving natural resource management and governance (NRMG) for the Kaipara Moana, in northern Aotearoa. I employ postcolonial theory (PCT) to consider Indigenous peoples’ acts of colonial resistance and tribal resurgence within this specific place and time. I utilise a postcolonial framework comprised of Bhabha’s concepts of ambivalence, mimicry, hybridity and third space as well as Spivak’s concept of strategic essentialism to explore the agency of two Ngāti whātua hapū – Te Uri o Hau and Ngāti Whātua o Kaipara – in initiating and participating in NRMG. These concepts enable the research to explore beyond the binary Indigenous versus non-Indigenous thinking to consider the nuances that occur within hybrid realities. I deconstruct colonial discourse, examining the relations between power, knowledge and agency, to resist and challenge imperialism. By utilising PCT and taking a ‘catchment’ scale approach this research characterises the various discourses at play as a legacy of colonialism and the postcolonial complexities associated with NRMG within, and associated with, this locale. My key research question asks: To what extent does Integrated Catchment Management address mana whenua rights to assert rangatiratanga over their environmental resources and taonga? The research finds that integrated catchment management (ICM) offers potential opportunities for Māori to re-negotiate their role in NRMG, and that iwi-led ICM offers potential for cultural revitalisation and empowerment. However in the case of Kaipara Moana this potential is undermined by a lack of appropriate overarching bicultural governance. The research reveals the ambivalence of the colonial state in the Kaipara and the fragility of its assumed positional superiority within NRM. It is suggested that non-statutory arrangements fail to ensure the commitment necessary for successful outcomes, instead providing a façade for colonial governments to merely appear responsive. New Zealand’s Resource Management Act (1991) is shown to be ineffective in supporting ICM, because cultural imperatives are given less weight than economic imperatives. Small triumphs in Indigenous attempts to reconcile themselves with other local actors in multicultural realities, against a backdrop of ongoing Treaty settlements, and to provide for their own social wellbeing and empowerment, are proven to be real and significant. However, ICM, in and of itself, is unlikely to provide for self-determination to the fullest extent. This research is timely, as current policy reforms such as the National Policy Statement for Freshwater Management (NPSFM) (2014) and Treaty of Waitangi settlements are placing greater emphasis on Māori rights and interests in NRMG. The NPSFM also recommends collaborative ICM-based implementation of fresh water management to meet the national level requirements. It is concerning though, that the NPSFM lacks any explicit implementation mechanism to ensure Māori rights and interests are met, meaning there is a similar risk that the NPSFM could also be ineffective. In this context it is highly relevant to be gauging a reallife ICM case and even more so, one that is iwi-led and to which the Treaty partnership is a fundamental principle. Key words: Indigenous rights and interests; Rangatiratanga; Natural resource management; Governance; Integrated catchment management; Ngāti Whātua, Treaty of Waitangi/te Tiriti; Treaty partnership; Multiple stakeholder platforms; bicultural kaupapa; mātauranga Māori Title: For the purposes of this research the Māori title “He waka hourua, he waka eke noa” is interpreted as ‘a waka with two hulls bound by a common kaupapa’. The notion being that while Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples may be willing to get into the same waka and integrate where necessary, for example sharing a vision, objectives and desired outcomes, they also maintain separate hulls to preserve and advance the knowledges, institutions and practices of each culture.

The complexities involved in articulating an ethnic identity as a person of mixed Maori/Pakeha descent are explored in this study. Issues related to establishing a sense of belonging that ties a person to both ethnic groups are examined based on the life narratives of six people of dual Maori/Pakeha descent. What does it mean to be a person of mixed Maori/Pakeha descent in contemporary Aotearoa/New Zealand and in what ways are identities that reflect our dual heritage constructed? I use the term ‘our’ deliberately, because there is a place in the research for my own story as a ‘half-caste’ Maori/Pakeha. Constructing and articulating ethnicity when there has been historical ethnic inter-marriage, as well as ethnic conflict in New Zealand is complex. Negative and stereotypical images are continually being constructed of Maori in a society that aims to assimilate and promote Maori as a homogenous group. It is not only important that Maori articulate and explore their own experiences and realities, but also significant that Maori/Pakeha, as members of both groups, have an opportunity to explore and control their own definitions beyond the constraints set by the dominant groups. The Maori cultural and political renaissance has involved defining Maori in terms of difference from Pakeha/Europeans, but this study explores the overlap – genetic, cultural, and social – between two ethnic groups and provides new insights into the diversity within the Maori ethnic group. The key question guiding the research was: In what ways do people of mixed Maori/Pakeha descent construct and articulate identities that reflect their dual heritage? This study aims to provide insights and understandings about the challenges, issues and benefits associated with being of mixed Maori/Pakeha descent in Aotearoa New Zealand.

In 2010, the Electoral (Disqualification of Sentenced Prisoners) Amendment Bill marked a significant change in prisoner voting rights policies in New Zealand, disenfranchising all prisoners regardless of sentence length. A decade later in 2020, the Electoral (Registration of Sentenced Prisoners) Amendment Bill re-enfranchised prisoners serving sentences of less than three years. Over this time, a Waitangi Tribunal Inquiry and a number of Māori politicians and public figures highlighted the disproportionate effects of prisoner disenfranchisement for Māori given over-representation of Māori in the prison population. However, less attention has focused on the specific effects of disenfranchisement for wāhine Māori (Māori women) in prison, and what this reflects about the relationship between wāhine Māori and the state. While women make up a significantly smaller percentage of the general prison population than men, wāhine Māori made up 61% of the women’s prison population in 2021 (Office of the Inspectorate, 2021). Additionally, wāhine Māori had a drastically different experience of colonisation to tāne Māori (Māori men). Colonial actions worked to destroy traditional Māori social organisation, which disrupted the balance between men and women and confined wāhine Māori to a social position that falls behind Pākehā men and women and Māori men. This thesis takes a Māori-centred, Mana Wahine lens to draw on the content of interviews with key informants and analysis of parliamentary readings of the 2010 and 2020 bills in order to explore how prisoner disenfranchisement in the 21st century reflects broader patterns regarding the treatment of wāhine Māori by the state. Disenfranchisement is likely to uniquely affect wāhine Māori due to their importance in te ao Māori as nurturers, the managers of households, and their centrality to the intergenerational transfer of knowledge. This not only presents barriers to voting and re-enrolment on the electoral roll post-release from prison, but also serves to practically disenfranchise the whānau and communities that wāhine Māori belong to. The lack of consideration of the needs and experiences of wāhine Māori in state discussions of prisoner voting rights mirrors the ongoing invisibility of wāhine Māori in state policy. The state has framed prisoner voting rights around male and tāne Māori norms, which cannot account for wāhine Māori. Moving forward, if prisoner voting rights policies are revisited in the future, an intersectional approach must be taken that effectively addresses the needs of wāhine Māori.

“The need for constitutional transformation has become quite clear in the Māori world over the last 12 or 13 years.” — Professor Margaret Mutu.

From 1840 to this day Māori have protested that English immigrants to New Zealand were acting far in excess of the rights they had been afforded. Those rights derived from acknowledgement made by the King of England in 1836 of the paramount authority of Māori chiefs in New Zealand as set out in He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o nga Hapu o Nu Tireni (the Māori version of the Declaration of Independence) and the subsequent signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi, a Māori language treaty made between Māori and the Queen of England. The rights conveyed included allowing the Queen of England to take responsibility for maintaining peace and good order amongst English immigrants while they lived under the paramount authority of Māori chiefs as the rulers of their own country. Examination of the original nineteenth-century documents setting out these rights and conditions reveals that mistranslation has played a significant role in allowing the suppression of the protests of Māori by English settlers. While the Māori versions of official documents uphold the Māori understandings, the English versions do not. The English versions convey the erroneous notion that Māori were unsophisticated, child-like and desperately seeking English protection. Written histories of New Zealand almost all either disregard or refute the Māori language versions of these documents and Māori understandings of the nature of the Declaration and the Treaty. Oral traditions of many Māori tribal groups around the country, on the other hand, have maintained these understandings. As a result Māori continue to assert their sovereignty over New Zealand despite the severe disadvantages they now live under both numerically and in terms of all officially measured socio-economic indicators.