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The 6th of February is New Zealand's annual day of cultural performance par excellence. It is not a rememberance and reflection of what is undoubtedly this country's most important historical moment, but instead an enactment of contemporary understandings of the Treaty of Waitangi by both Māori and the Crown. Architecturally this performance is played out at, and between, Te Tii marae and the Treaty grounds at Waitangi. The partnership between Māori and the Crown is spatially expressed each year by symbolically important rituals being conducted and protocols observed at each specific site. People gather, welcomes occur, addresses are given, entertainment provided, bridges crossed, debates take place, demands are made, and protests held. The actions of the various parties are frequently beamed into households by the television networks and reported in the national newspapers, leading to a national construction of space that represents current perceptions of cultural and race relations. The 1980s saw a significant shift in the construction of Waitangi as space. Following the rise of the land rights movement in the 1960s and 1970s, Māori activists focussed their efforts on Waitangi and Waitangi Day more than ever before. The government responded by denying access to the Treaty grounds, then retreating from Waitangi celebrations, and then eventually returning by the end of the decade. Waitangi as space became a pawn in a political contest, and its place in the national psyche moved with each action and counter-action.

In her 1984 book ‘Māori Sovereignty’, Donna Awatere sustains a blistering polemic on ‘white culture’ that still retains its rhetorical force 40 years later. Her construction of a sharply delineated binary between a monolithic notion of ‘white culture’ as against ‘taha Māori’ can come at the cost of simplification. But this is not at all to say that Awatere is wrong when she says it is ‘Māori Sovereignty or death’. In this paper, we extend Awatere’s work by analysing relationships between colonialism and capital. We begin by situating Awatere’s work in its historical context, outlining major shifts in the global political economy, and drawing on Awatere’s analysis of Fascism to account for contemporary Far Right movements. Building from the inextricability of Fascism from the settler colonial/imperialist economy, we explore Awatere’s framing of whiteness as a system of racial exploitation and violence that enforces the state’s genocidal claims to sovereignty, defined through necropower – capitalism’s consumption of racialised death. We then consider the contradictions between capitalism and constitutional transformation. By scanning revolutionary movements elsewhere (in particular the Chilean movement for plurinationalism), we identify the need for extra-parliamentary, broad-based, popular power and constituent authority from below, as well as Indigenous solidarities and international alliances to circumvent anti-Māori populism and confront capital. In reflecting on the power of death, and the need for counter-hegemonic culture capable of securing the transition out of capitalism, we are drawn to the revolutionary essence of whakapapa as an Indigenous ontology that eternally resists necropower.

Starting with the whakapapa of the Waikeria Prison Uprising in 2020/21, this article examines what the suppression of prisoners’ freedom of speech tells us about the struggle to defeat the far right. Drawing on the authors’ personal experience of censorship at the hands of the Crown, the article demonstrates the futility of relying on the capitalist state to achieve the liberation of exploited and oppressed people. The article critiques liberal ‘safetyism’ as a demobilising force, which prioritises fear for personal safety over the necessity of struggle. In contrast, the authors argue that it is only through mass struggle that we can defeat the far right and liberate ourselves.

The 2023 New Zealand general election was marked by media narratives about a youth crime crisis, with special emphasis placed on ram raids and the Māori children and young people blamed for perpetrating them. We show that empirical data do not support the claim that youth crime is surging, and argue that fears of ram raids tap into longstanding beliefs about Māori. Using archival sources from the era of early European settlement in Aotearoa, we show that Pākehā settlers constructed Māori children and young people as uniquely dangerous delinquents. Using Louis Althusser’s theory of ideology and subjectivation, we argue that this delinquentisation played a key role in constituting a colonial ideology that would justify primitive accumulation, colonisation, and the imposition of the capitalist mode of production in Aotearoa. Looking to the contemporary neoliberal era, we argue that moral panics about ram raids continue this colonial ideology of delinquentisation. By subjectivating children and young people as delinquents, the capitalist class is able to use the criminal justice system to displace responsibility for the crisis of social reproduction precipitated by neoliberal economic policy. We conclude by showing the limitations of this strategy and arguing for intensified struggle against the ideology of delinquentisation.

A revised edition of the best-selling book containing two new chapters covering the last decade and a half. 'The struggle without end continues...' This is a revised edition of Dr Ranginui Walker's best-selling history of Aotearoa, New Zealand, from a Maori perspective. Since the mid-nineteenth century, Maori have been involved in an endless struggle for justice, equality and self-determination. In this book Dr Walker provides a uniquely Maori view, not only of the events of the past two centuries but beyond to the very origins of Maori people. In this updated edition Dr Walker has added new chapters covering the years of 1990, the flowering of the Maori culture and the growth of Maori political and economic power. Recent issues such as the foreshore and seabed legislation, the hikoi and Don Brash's Orewa speech are discussed.

This Kaupapa Māori writing inquiry explores “Tāngata Tiriti” (People of the Treaty) as a settler/invader identity term in Aotearoa New Zealand. Derived from the failed policy platform of “biculturalism” and “Indigenous inclusion,” Tāngata Tiriti is a byproduct of neoliberalism and settler/invader colonialism that fails to provide for Indigenous inclusion, mana motuhake (Indigenous sovereignty) and tino rangatiratanga (self-determination). This article argues that Tāngata Tiriti should be abandoned due to the 2014 paradigm shift surrounding Te Tiriti o Waitangi (Te Tiriti) and mana motuhake from the Te Paparahi o Te Raki report and the author’s subsequent research on non-signatory hapū and iwi. Pākehā settler/invader perspectives on Tāngata Tiriti are compared with Tāngata Moana and Asian scholarly understandings. The author advocates adopting Tāngata Moana thinking around letting Māori as mana whenua lead “wayfinding” and “meaning-making” to define allyship and promote a “collective future” together based on Māori constitutional values that are generally universal throughout Pacific cultures. Instead of settler/invader identity constructs and the doctrine of the nation as a White possession, movement toward a collective future must begin from a place of sovereign relationality. The pedagogy of teaching Te Tiriti must change, the ill-conceived Tāngata Tiriti identity must be abandoned, and “New Zealand” as a settler/invader colonial enterprise must end. Our future must be post-settler/invader colonial and post-Tiriti and must recognize unceded mana motuhake or sovereignty.

Indigenous peoples across the world have a shared experience of colonisation; a process that has resulted in war, disease and the decimation of their lands, homes and peoples. In New Zealand, the effects of colonisation are still evident with Māori (the indigenous people of New Zealand) experiencing poorer outcomes compared with non-Māori citizens across a range of social, health and well-being indicators. This paper is a case study of work being done in New Zealand, which may have resonance with work in South Africa, and other countries with a history of colonisation. It begins with a brief history of the impacts of colonisation on Māori before considering the concept of decolonisation. The author outlines the work her organisation does as an independent, tribally owned, Māori health research centre to advance a decolonisation agenda. Reflecting on their emancipatory and democratising ambitions as researchers provides the opening for a discussion about indigenous ethics. The paper presents a number of Māori ethical principles that guide their work, arguing that were such principles applied in the development and implementation of social policy and legislation, the effect would be a fairer, more equitable policy that better meets the needs of Māori as citizens. Recent legislation enacted to improve New Zealand’s care and protection system for children is discussed to illustrate the need for greater consideration of Māori values when developing legislation that directly impacts Māori. The paper concludes with a challenge to policymakers, practitioners, academics, and researchers alike to actively contribute to an agenda of liberation, emancipation and decolonisation for indigenous peoples.

Māori and Pasifika populations in New Zealand experience poorer health outcomes than other New Zealanders. These inequalities are a deeply entrenched injustice. This qualitative study explores the experiences of six Māori and Pasifika leaders on health policy-making advisory committees. All had extensive experience in the health system. They were recruited, provided semi-structured interviews, the data coded, and a thematic analysis undertaken. Our findings show that inequalities in the health system are reproduced in advisory committees. Participants noted their knowledge and interests were devalued and they experienced racism and tokenistic engagement. Some indicated it took considerable effort to establish credibility, be heard, have impact, and navigate advisory meetings, but even then their inputs were marginalised. Health policy advisory committees need deeper engagement and more genuine recognition of Māori and Pasifika knowledge. Māori and Pasifika leaders have constructive solutions for eliminating health inequities that could benefit all New Zealanders.

Examines ‘significant’ reforms implemented in NZ over the past 30 years to recognise the rights of Māori as an indigenous people. Overviews the conceptual basis for settlements lodged under the Treaty of Waitangi, legal claims by Māori to natural resources and other reforms. Identifies a lack of measures that recognise Māori political authority, and asserts that successive governments have deliberately discounted the normative value of ‘historical conceptual categories’, instead choosing to emphasise categories that deliver lesser substantive rights.

In 2009 international legal negotiations of particular relevance to Indigenous peoples continued under the United Nations (UN) Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC); the Convention on Biodiversity (CBD); and the auspices of the World Intellectual Property Office (WIPO). As in previous years, international human rights monitoring bodies developed jurisprudence on the rights of Indigenous peoples, contributing to the development of customary international law in the field. New Zealand was the subject of the UN Human Rights Council's (HRC) universal periodic review (UPR) process for the first time in 2009. The HRC focused on Maori and their rights during the UPR with calls for New Zealand to support the UN General Assembly's Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (Indigenous Peoples' Declaration) and to consider constitutional entrenchment of international human rights instruments and the Treaty of Waitangi.New Zealand's reluctance to recognise Indigenous peoples' rights persisted in 2009. New Zealand did not endorse the Indigenous Peoples' Declaration and Indigenous peoples' rights did not feature prominently in New Zealand's statements in international fora.

The developments that have taken place in New Zealand in relation to Indigenous Peoples rights under International law are discussed. Details of different committees formed and laws enacted to ensure and protect the same are highlighted.

2007 was a significant year for Indigenous peoples and international law. The United Nations (UN) General Assembly adopted the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (the Declaration on Indigenous Peoples), after more than 20 years of negotiations, and the Human Rights Council established the Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (the EMRIP). Further, the World Intellectual Property Office (WIPO) continued its work on traditional knowledge, as did the working groups associated with the Convention on Biodiversity (CBD). Indigenous issues were considered in institutions such as the World Health Organisation (WHO) and, of course, the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues. New Zealand was also the subject of review by the UN Committees on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD Committee) and the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW Committee) on its compliance with its human rights obligations, some of which raised issues involving Maori. This review details New Zealand's state practice in these institutions.

This note reviews New Zealand's state practice regarding Indigenous peoples' rights under international law in 2015 and traces key international developments concerning those rights. In 2015 New Zealand demonstrated support for efforts to improve Indigenous participation in the United Nations (UN) and extend the mandate of the UN Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (EMRIP) to advance implementation of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). But it indicated that - domestically - the UNDRIP would be implemented within existing legal and constitutional arrangements. There were several noteworthy developments regarding Indigenous peoples' rights during the year. Indigenous peoples and their rights received limited reference in the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development agreed by the UN General Assembly (GA) and in the Paris Agreement negotiated under the auspices of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). Nationally, draft bills proposing significant changes to the law governing Māori land and te reo Maori (the Maori language) were released, which will contribute to growing jurisprudence in these areas. In November the text of the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) was made public, which includes an exception clause on the Treaty of Waitangi (Treaty). The UN Committee against Torture (CAT) and the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention (WGAD) commented on the human rights situation of Māori. The GA, the UN Human Rights Council (HRC), international human rights treaty monitoring bodies and others also devoted attention to Indigenous peoples' rights in the course of their work.

This article is a response to the recent surge of interest over extractive industry in New Zealand and the opposition to this by many iwi. The New Zealand government has in recent years made offshore exploration and production a high priority. By the extractive industry, we mean the people, companies, and activities involved in removing oil and gas, metals, coal, stone and other useful resources from the ground.

In 2021, Aotearoa New Zealand's Foreign Minister, Nanaia Mahuta, sketched out a kaupapa Māori (collective Māori vision) foreign policy for New Zealand based on four tikanga Māori (Māori customary practices and behaviours): manaakitanga (hospitality), whanaungatanga (connectedness), mahi tahi and kotahitanga (unity through collaboration), and kaitiakitanga (guardianship and the protection of intergenerational wellbeing). This article makes a novel contribution to the global International Relations body of literature by questioning to what extent New Zealand's ‘Māori foreign policy’ has been applied to its relationship with China. Through assessing the communications of Mahuta and other officials, it is found that New Zealand is utilizing a kaupapa Māori framework towards China: ‘the taniwha and the dragon’. It is argued that New Zealand is attempting to consolidate the maturity of the Sino-New Zealand relationship, as well as differentiate itself from the other Anglosphere countries that have recently pushed back on China. In doing so, not only is New Zealand something of an outlier, it is demonstrating how eschewing a western-centric understanding of foreign policy for a more relational view based on indigenous knowledge and perspectives (in this case, from te ao Māori: the Māori worldview) can be applied at a time of increasing great power competition.

In Aotearoa New Zealand the ways in which indigenous claims to lands and waters are addressed are often looked to as good, or even best, practice by indigenous peoples around the world. While things are far from perfect, in recent decades Maori have succeeded in changing perceptions about the Treaty of Waitangi as the foundation of the nation, and work steadily continues on settling outstanding Treaty claims. The resulting Treaty of Waitangi settlements are negotiated arrangements which aim to remove a sense of historical grievance and achieve significant rebuilding of the Maori economy. They are seen by some as dynamic and powerful steps towards economic independence, as a means of recognising special relationships to lands and waters, and a necessary prerequisite to improved relationships between the state and the indigenous Maori in the future. ¹ Critics see the settlements and the processes followed to reach them as too heavily weighted in the government's favour. ² They argue that the settlements do not sufficiently compensate for actual losses. They are said to pit Maori against Maori. Diverse claimant groups are effectively forced to negotiate within standardised and fixed parameters. For these and other reasons, the settlement agreements, policies and processes have been labelled as divisive and compromising self-determination. ³