This is an edited version of an essay I wrote for my PHIL class. It was great because it didn't need references, so could be much more ranty than my usual academic writing. To be clear, I think there is just as much an argument on the basis of the need to uphold Te Tiriti as there is on the basis that I have argued; but I had to refer to various readings, none of which were about NZ specifically, which is why the more general argument has been followed.
Do governments in countries such as New Zealand owe compensation or restitution to descendants of victims of injustice? Why or why not?
The NZ crown does owe reparation to Māori iwi and hapu who have been systematically wronged in various ways since the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. This is not because Māori today are the descendants of victims of injustice. This is because they, as a collective, are themselves victims of injustice: historical injustice, and present injustice. These do not exist independently of one another; they are inherently intwined in a complex web of colonialism and oppression which perpetuates to this day.
Injustice done to individuals is distinct to injustice to collectives. Historical injustice can be separated into three categories, in order to acknowledge this distinction. The first is victims of injustice themselves, even if years later, when the victims are still living. They can be directly compensated, which is unproblematic. The second is groups that collectively are victims. Maori and other indigenous groups clearly fit this category. The third is descendants of victims, as individuals. This category is more problematic, and raises plenty of complex questions. Fortunately, this does not need to be addressed in this context, as we are clearly dealing with a collective.
Pakeha as a nation are responsible to Māori
as a nation for past wrongs and their continued perpetuation. Miller has a theory of why nations can be collectively responsible. The first step is to examine what constitutes a nation. There are five criteria, although these only need to be generally
held, and not by all members. They are: people feel they belong together
because of what they have in common; collective understandings about public
culture; recognition of obligations to each other; continued existence of
nation as a valuable good, and aspiration to be politically self-determining.
The shared nationality is partially constitutive of the identity of each member
of the nation.
Do Māori have a collective identity? Of
course, until Pakeha came to New Zealand, Māori were comprised of distinct iwi
and hapu, and there was no conception of “māoridom” as a whole. This only began
to emerge in the late 19th century, for example when the Kingitanga
movement was established in the 1890s as a response to British collective
identity. Since then, Māori collective identity has only strengthened, and
while individual Māori obviously disagree on important issues, this is
unproblematic by Miller’s definition. The above factors are, in general, met,
and there is a conception of a Māori nation.
More complicated perhaps is the question of
whether there is such thing as a Pakeha nation. If there is one, who does it
include? All New Zealanders who are not Māori? Only those of European descent?
What is it that makes one Pakeha? I think the term Pakeha must only apply to
those of European descent, for two reasons. Firstly, that is the generally
accepted use of the word, for better or worse. Secondly, “Pakeha” signifies
racial privilege. It is unfortunate that this privilege exists, of course, but
since it does, it is our duty to recognise it. If other marginalised races were
to be included in this definition, we would risk ignoring white privilege.
This exclusive definition is of course
problematic. It means that many New Zealanders are neither Māori nor Pakeha.
There is no good reason why a white person who has recently immigrated should
be able to represent the Pakeha nation; while a person of colour whose family
has been here for generations should not be able to represent the Pakeha
nation. The solution, at least for the purposes of this essay, could be to
recall that nationality is only partially
constitutive of identity – above all, we are all New Zealanders. And the Crown
represents all New Zealanders, not just Pakeha. So while it is predominantly
Pakeha who owe compensation, this needs to be done, in practice, by the Crown,
which represents the people of NZ as a whole.
Assuming there is such thing as a Pakeha
nation (notwithstanding my reservations above), what is it that makes us
collectively responsible? In a New Zealand context, we are responsible because
we are Tangata Tiriti – people of the Treaty. The Treaty of Waitangi is the
only thing that gives the crown’s sovereignty any moral legitimacy, and Pakeha
any right to be here. We must, therefore, uphold our end of the bargain; if we ignore
the Treaty, we are illegitimate occupiers of a land which is not our own. But
there is also another argument that can be more widely applied, using Miller’s
“cooperative practice” model. This is the theory that we are responsible as a nation, because we have
benefitted, and continue to benefit, from wrongs done to Māori in the past and
the present.
It is fairly uncontentious that the system
of individual ownership imposed on Māori was mostly for the purposes of
facilitating the dispossession of Māori from their land, and the cheap sale of
it to settlers. Countless legal and illegal methods were used for this, and
their detail does not need to be explored. It is now generally agreed that this
was morally wrong, and great harm was suffered. This was, of course, not merely
economic – a whole new cultural and legal system was imposed, undermining te
tino rangatiratanga, mana, and kaitiakitanga. The Pakeha nation benefitted –
this is what allowed settlers to come here, buy cheap land, and start a new
life.
To extend Miller’s argument to cover
historic injustice, although he shies away from it himself, is not difficult. I
think it can be done simply by giving the cooperative practice model a temporal
dimension. We continue to benefit from past wrongs. We have exploited the illegally
and/or immorally acquired land for its natural resources which provide the
foundation of our economy. We have built towns and cities, a national culture,
an identity, a livelihood, which we, as Pakeha, all benefit from. We benefit
also from being racially dominant, the norm, the bearers of racial privilege,
which serves our interests so much we can easily become unaware of it.
Waldron writes that history is not part of individual identity, but
communal identity, and that if we forget about history, we can be lead to
believe that our good or bad fortune is a virtue of our race. He acknowledges
that injustice tends to not be a discrete event but a systemic pattern, which
continues to exist until it is remedied. He writes that it is difficult to know
who to give land back to, especially when the wrong happened a long time in the
past; but, he also says, this is remedied significantly when the wrong is to a
group rather than an individual, as is the case in NZ.
There is a widespread belief that claims to
entitlement fade with time, and this is certainly a common perception in NZ.
But Waldron correctly identifies that this does not necessarily apply when the
dispossessed is a community, rather than an individual, because cultural
traditions (which are inherently tied to land in Māori culture) are more
resilient that property rights. This is why it is important to conceptualise
Māori claims to justice as collective rather than individual.
Waldron writes that claims about historical
injustice may be superseded by claims based on present injustice. This comes
with the massive caveat, however, that this only applies if an honest attempt is being made to arrange
things justly. It is also important to recognise that in many cases, as in NZ,
victims of historic injustice are also victims of present injustice. Present-day
claims will only override historic ones when they are at odds: when the
historically wronged group is now better off than those who were the oppressors.
This will rarely be the case; and it is certainly not in NZ.
It is essential to understand the link
between past and present, between colonisation and neo-colonisation, between
overt racism and its much subtler present day counterpart. Few would deny that
Māori are far over-represented in all the statistics. Yet many would argue that
this has little to do with historical wrongs, and more to do with “bad luck”.
This ignores the obvious – that when a nation is deprived of its land, its
culture, its mana, its sovereignty, its language, its customs, and its tikanga,
for generations on end, even when overtly discriminatory policies are stopped,
the effects of this will not magically go away.
The present does not, and cannot, exist in
some kind of vacuum, devoid of links to the past. To believe it does it a
convenient myth, certainly, but not a helpful one if we are serious about
justice. Present injustices must be remedied, certainly, but so must past
injustices; and it is crucial to understand the relationship between them. The
record so far has been very mixed, with some successes, and some massive
setbacks. There is certainly room for improvement. We need to approach the
issue with an open mind, a sense of responsibility, and a genuine desire for
justice. Only then will we be able to seriously address the past wrongs done to
Māori, in order to bring about a present which is just and fair for all.
