Māori representation is democratic

The irony of David Seymour calling Māori wards undemocratic, when the whole purpose of these wards was to provide for Māori representation within a democracy reliant on Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Strangely he is not also calling for referenda to be required to determine rural wards, ward boundaries or even how many wards there should be.

Meanwhile, young people and Māori continue to be disengaged, disenfranchised and under- represented in all aspects of our current political and civic processes.

Decisions made at the local government level impact the future of all communities, particularly those under-represented. In 2022 Tairāwhiti celebrated the election of five Māori ward councillors and for the first time in decades our council looks like the communities it represents.

When I first ran for council in 2013 I was told I wouldn’t get elected because I was a Māori woman. When I was elected, only 4 percent of councillors nationally were of Māori descent; in my second term that number rose to 10 percent.

The debate around Māori wards was not pleasant and much of the discussion reinforced the narrative that anyone can stand for council despite their race (so stop complaining and get organised). This was proven wrong many times over in many elections.

I was pointed out by a submitter as being a Māori, and therefore we had representation at the table. While I felt a little proud in that moment this submitter had no idea that I had only just begun a journey into learning my cultural heritage and as a child was told I was not Māori. Many Māori have little confidence in our own culture or connection to the hapū that have been disenfranchised economically, culturally and politically since 1840.

Historically, when borough councils were originally established, Māori were not expected to be around and the rules consistently favoured non-Māori, so Māori had to assimilate and put aside their ways of doing things if they wanted any traction in the dominant culture.

The history of our governance models is fascinating as there was a real effort to keep Māori out. Even when the male-dominated local democracy allowed women the right to vote, this just meant more opportunities for non-Māori landowners to control elections.

When you do win a seat at the table, you become very aware of that control. For me, the strong voice of someone who only needed a few hundred votes, or was unopposed, versus someone who needed 4000 votes was a slap in the face. I wonder why David Seymour isn’t advocating referenda for decisions on rural wards?

Assimilation can be such a horrid thing — my English, Welsh and Scottish heritage aren’t even acknowledged and I have rarely felt truly Māori either. This past weekend, for the first time I performed on stage in a kapa haka group and I actually felt positively assimilated into my Māori heritage.

Gaining Māori seats was always going to be a struggle but now it is not only about retaining them, it is also about valuing the representation they provide. If this country wants a real democracy it needs to face the facts and acknowledge Māori are here with a vast knowledge base and values that can help us solve many of the problems created over the past 184 years.

I don’t have confidence the majority of the voting public appreciate the value of dedicated Māori representation in local and national government, but I’m pleased and proud that those councils that have welcomed stronger Māori representation are realising the invaluable contribution these representatives bring to decision-making, for the benefit of all.