The indigenous people of New Zealand are called "Maori." Since arriving here in the 18th century, Europeans have developed a lot of theories of who the Maori are and where they originally came from. One popular theory even suggested that the Maori were one of the Lost Tribes of Israel. But more recent research using DNA coding from the kiore, or rats that first arrived with the Maori, as well as linguistic and other methods, has established that the Maori arrived here from Polynesia around 700 CE. The Maori's own oral tradition has them arriving here in seven ocean going canoes, and the most recent modern research has established that the Maori did arrive here on such canoes at the end of the great migration of Polynesian people that stretched all the way to Easter Island in the east. But it seems more likely that they arrived over some period of time, rather than all at once in a flotilla.
Imagine the challenge of navigating thousands of miles of open ocean, using
nothing but the wind, currents and
cloud patterns to navigate, and doing it in
open double-hulled canoes. The picture to the left is courtesy of Te Aurere
at www.teaurere.co.nz, a project
to build and sail such a canoe using traditional navigation. Some had theorized that the first settlers
arrived here by accident, so daunting was the thought of deliberate navigation
and migration. But the facts of weather and geography force a compelling
case that the arrival of enough people to found a genuine colonizing population
had to come in too many canoes to support the "flotsam" theory. Scholars
now believe that explorers found New Zealand at the end of the Polynesian
migrations, returned to Fiji and other main settlements, and colonists who
intended to come and settle here returned in large ocean going canoes.
They brought with them the first new animals in New Zealand in millenia,
including the kiore rats, pigs, and dogs.
They also brought with them the kumara, a kind of sweet potato that
was the staple crop. The abundance of very large ground-nesting birds and
seals also provided a ready source of protein. The Maori were the first of
a long succession of land-abusers in New Zealand. Their over-hunting quickly
pushed the giant Moa
bird and other species to extinction, and nearly did the
same to the New Zealand fur seal. They burned off forests to clear land
for planting kumara. But much of the land was only thinly covered in
topsoil and as the forests shrank, the land's fertility gave out quickly.
Land planted in kumara quickly was overtaken by bracken fern. This became
a staple of the Maori diet, tough and starchy. As one area gave out, more
forest was burned, more kumara planted, more bracken fern moved in.
As the pattern continued and population increased, Maori tribal and family groupings became more stabilized and different groups established their own areas of cultivation. The desire for more land pushed groups into conflict. Maori culture evolved into well established iwi, or tribal groupings, with further well-defined hapu, or clan and whanau, or family groupings within them. Warfare between and among groups was common but with no sides having any particular offensive advantages it was a fairly stable society. Maori traded widely with one another. Greenstone, or ponamu, from the South Island, was found throughout the country, for instance.
When Europeans began arriving in numbers in the late 18th and early 19th century, Maori who came into contact with them were very quick to adopt to the modern technologies they brought with them. Cloth, metal tools, and weapons were quickly absorbed into Maori culture. Maori were also quick to adopt European crops and farming and became the major source of food for the whalers, sealers and traders who were the first stable European settlers. Maori also intermarried with Europeans.
Historians estimate that there were about 100,000 Maori here when the first Europeans arrived. They remained the majority population well into the 19th century. But disease and war, both among Maori and between Maori and the colonists, cut deeply into their population. It would not be until well into the 20th century that the Maori population again reached that level.
Maori society centers on the family, and on the extended family groupings that comprise the different iwis. Chiefly authority flows from genealogy, enhanced by mana, gained through victory in war, or success in other ways. Consequently, the ability to trace one's family as far back as possible is a major facet of Maori culture to this day. Knowing one's whakapapa, or family heritage, is critical to Maori identity.
If you saw the movie Whale Rider, you saw something of contemporary life on a marae and the customs that surround them. If you've read Once Were Warriors, or seen the film, you also have a sense of the problems plaguing some of the Maori population today.
The role of Maori in today's modern Kiwi society, how their culture is or is not integrated into everyday Kiwi life, and what degree of assimilation is desirable are being more hotly debated now in New Zealand than in many years. At one level, the country has adopted a strong official position of bi-culturalism. All Government agencies are known by both their English and Maori names, for instance. The powerful All Blacks rugby team begins each game with a haka in Maori, and Pakeha as well as Maori chant right along with the team, whether at home watching on TV in a pub or in the stadium. In a practice that's been singled out for criticism this year, new Government buildings here and abroad receive a traditional Maori blessing (while non-Maori religious blessings are not). Public works require consultation with iwis who are the traditional custodians of the land. Projects have been redesigned to avoid offending resident taniwha, or evil sprits dwelling on the site.
These inclusionary practices have come under increasing attack this year, however, as conservative political figures and many everyday Pakeha declare they've "had enough" of "PC" behavior and accommodation to Maori culture. Most Kiwis with several generations of residence likely have both Maori and Pakeha bloodlines, and no Maori can claim 100 percent Maori whakapapa any longer, the argument goes. It's time to stop looking backward to an old culture and look forward to a new, unique Kiwi culture.
Back on the other side, Maori advocates argue that their traditions and culture predate any brought by Europeans, and the latter should respect and honor them. Too, they argue, children brought up with a full understanding of their own culture can more readily integrate into another, majority culture and succeed better. The USA is hardly immune from similar arguments, from "English language only" campaigns to other expressions of conflict between majority and minority cultural views. Things have become even more complicated as Pacific Island and Asian immigration has grown. The Pacific Islanders have some cultural affinities with the Maori, but there are so many centuries of separation between them that they are distinctly different. As the Island population grows, so too does their expectation of inclusion and respect.
In spite of all the cultural and political conflict, day to day life in Wellington as we've observed it, at least, is remarkably equable and free of overt racism or racial tension. People mix easily. There are loads of shared cultural icons, starting with the same All Blacks rugby team, whose mix of Pakeha, Maori and Pacific Island players have been steamrolling all comers this season, including last year's Rugby World Cup champions from the UK.
Early in February, the Fulbright program arranged for the Axford Fellows, the American Fulbright Scholars and the Senior Scholars here in New Zealand to spend two days learning about Maori culture and history. As part of the program we visited overnight at a marae, or central meeting place of a local Maori iwi. There is a lot of tradition involved in such a visit. Strangers must be invited onto the marae, and this process involves women of the marae describing the background of the host iwi, and the strangers likewise describing who they are and where they come from. Once this welcome is completed, the guests can enter the space of the marae and they are treated as members of the host's extended family until they leave.
To prepare, each of us learned how to introduce ourselves in the Maori language, in the traditional Maori way. We all learned a traditional song, as the trading of songs is an important part of the ritual. At the conclusion of the welcome, members of the marae greeted each of us with a traditional hongi, or touching of noses that signifies the sharing of spirit.
The marae is where members would eat together; in some communities I've been told they still are the communal kitchen and dining area. It is also where the community lays out its dead, and where ancestors are remembered. Traditionally this was done through carvings. Today photographs of deceased members and leaders are also displayed in the marae. The importance of maraes and their role in Maori communal life has experienced a strong resurgence in the last 50 years, and the government has in recent years provided funding to help restore many maraes that had fallen into disrepair.
The one we visited in February is located north of central Wellington in the Hutt Valley. Its history documents some of the stress and hostility that Maori have endured at the hands of the Pakeha majority. About 100 acres was set aside for the local iwi in settlement of other land being sold or confiscated in the Wellington area. During World War II the government took over most of it to bivouac American soldiers. At the war's end, the government did not give back the land. The iwi protested and eventually gained back control of 10 acres which now makes up the heart of their community. The picture gallery below will give you some idea of what a traditional marae looks like. The carvings are of ancestors. In traditional Maori society, members of the marae know who these figures were, and their inclusion in the marae gives form to the linkages to earlier generations that are so critical to the Maori culture.
The traditional Maori New Year is celebrated around the southern winter
solstice, when the constellation called Matariki -- what we call the Pleides, or
Seven Sisters -- first appears in the southern sky. Te Papa, the National
Museum here in Wellington, had a month-long Matariki celebration featuring song,
dance, lectures and exhibits. A highlight for us was a special dinner at
the museum. It featured a "traditional"
menu, tarted up by one of New
Zealand's leading chefs to modern tastes. The dinner was served in the
museum's own marae, a beautiful space on its top floor that is designed to
represent all Kiwis, Maori and Pakeha, with carvings in a striking modern style.
We enjoyed fresh oysters in a ravioli garnished with piko piko, or fiddlehead ferns, and sauteed scallops. This was followed by hog belly and muttonbird, finished off with a dreamy custard larded with pohutakawa honey.
Proving that the world is indeed a small place, one of the other guests at our 10-person table turned out to be an American student visiting from Sydney. It took only a few moments of interrogation to establish that she grew up a few blocks from Barry's high school in Long Island, and around the corner from his best friend in those days. We refused to allow the realization that we might have gone to high school with her parents to mar the evening!
We were also treated to performances by a group of students performing traditional Maori songs and hakas. You can view one of these by using the links below. You'll need RealPlayer to see the video.