Signposts - a blog about Te Ara the Encyclopedia of New Zealand

Te Taiao

Last night Te Ara won a prize at Ngā Kupu Ora Māori Book Awards, which are organised by Te Pūtahi-a-Toi at Massey University. Te Ara (part of Manatū Taonga – Ministry for Culture and Heritage) won the non-fiction category for our book Te taiao – Māori and the natural world, published by David Bateman last year.

The book itself was the product of a number of entries written for various themes. The book is structured around Māori conceptions of the natural world – for example Ranginui for the sky and Papatūānuku for the earth. An assortment of writers, editors, resource researchers and copyright staff, along with the publishers, all worked to put the book together.

This team effort is encapsulated in the proverb:

Mā tini mā mano ka rapa te whai.

By the multitudes the work will be accomplished.

Basil speaks on behalf of Te Ara at Ngā Kupu Ora Māori Book Awards

Myself and Jock Phillips, Te Ara’s senior editor, spoke at the awards. Jock made the point that in many ways the ceremony was a homecoming for Te Ara. He noted that Professor Sir Mason Durie had organised at hui at Te Pūtahi-a-Toi in 2001 to give advice on how to formulate Māori content for Te Ara. One of the results was Te Ara Wānanga, Te Ara’s Māori Advisory Committee. Professor Durie was one of the founding members of the committee.

Also pleasing was the award for biography, which went to Joseph Pere for his work on his grandfather, Wiremu Pere: Wiremu Pere: the life and times of a Maori Leader, 1837–1915. Joseph Pere is a former recipient of the Māori History Fellowship at Manatū Taonga.

Other recipients were Robert Jahnke for Tirohanga o mua: looking back, Tina Makereti for Once upon a time in Aotearoa, Chris Winitana for Tōku reo, tōku ohooho, and a special award to Derek Fox for Mana magazine.

Nā reira he mihi nui tēnei ki ngā kaiwhakawhiwhi, i riro i a koutou tēnei honore. He mihi hoki ki Te Pūtahi-a-Toi, heoi anō ki Te Kunenga ki Pūrehuroa mō tēnei kaupapa nunui.

Voters at election booths, 2008

It has been fascinating to observe the speed with which New Zealanders have put winning the seventh Rugby World Cup behind them and turned their attention to the country’s 50th parliamentary elections.

As a political scientist, I personally applauded the prime minister’s decision to forego the usual petty politicking that surrounds the choice of an election date and, instead, announce the date of the election 10 months in advance. At the same time I wondered whether the five-week period between the final of the Rugby World Cup on 23 October and the general election on 26 November would provide enough time for people to switch focus. I am happy to say that the answer appears to be yes.

Less than a week after the final rugby referee’s whistle had been blown, the minor party leaders held their first televised debate, and the following evening the two prime ministerial contenders – Phil Goff and John Key – squared off on Television One. Radio programmes have been replete with political interviews, and referendum ‘specials’ have already been broadcast on radio and television, as well as published in a host of newspapers.

I’m delighted to say that Te Ara, too, is playing its part in putting the election into perspective.

Seven entries in Te Ara’s Government and Nation theme have been deliberately fast-tracked through the editorial production-line and are now available for all to see on New Zealand’s online encyclopedia.

Each of the entries is of relevance to elections in New Zealand, and every one of them has been written by an expert in the field. In alphabetical order, the entries are:

• Electoral systems
• Labour Party
• Māori representation
• National Party
• Parliament
• Political parties
• Premiers and prime ministers

The entries have been written by well-known historians (such as John E. Martin and Gavin McLean), political analysts (such as Colin James and Rawiri Taonui) and political scientists (such as Peter Aimer, Jennifer Curtin and Raymond Miller).

Each of the entries in this ‘election special’ will provide anyone reading them with a great deal of authoritative information about the history and politics of New Zealand.

What is more, a tool that has been specially created for Te Ara is now available online for the very first time. It charts the numbers of seats held by political parties (as well as by independent MPs) in the House of Representatives after every election from 1890 through to and including 2008 (and, yes, the results of the 2011 election will be added once they’re known).

As one of the co-editors of Te Ara’s Government and Nation theme, I cannot give enough thanks to Heath Sadlier and his creative design team for the work that has been done to bring this idea to fruition. To see the explanatory and teaching power of the chart, go – for example – to the chart headed Parties making up Parliament, 1949–1984 and click on the election years from 1960 through to 1975.

You will get a clear picture of the glacial decline in National’s share of the seats in the House of Representatives in the three general elections that followed the party’s election victory in 1960, and you will then see how the party’s dramatic loss of office in 1972 was literally mirrored in its return to power in 1975.

Likewise, the chart labelled Distribution of parties in Parliament, 1996–2008 shows the changing patterns of representation in the House of Representatives and the consequent coalitions during the MMP (mixed-member proportional representation) era in New Zealand.

Our sister site, NZHistory.net also has good features on Election Days and The road to MMP.

We don’t know what’s going to happen when New Zealand’s 50th parliamentary elections are held in three-and-a-half weeks’ time. After nearly half a century of studying elections in New Zealand and overseas, I have learnt that one must frequently expect the unexpected.

As a result, I am going to be paying particular attention to a line in one of the entries in Te Ara’s election package. It’s in the Premiers and prime ministers entry, and it reads: ‘Thirty-eight prime ministers have led New Zealand since the country was granted internal self-government by Britain in 1856.’

Will that line have to be altered as a result of how we vote on Saturday, 26 November?

During the REAL New Zealand Festival, which runs alongside Rugby World Cup 2011, our Jock is roaming the country and blogging about it for the REAL New Zealand Festival Insider blog…

Revellers

Almost everyone was dressed up - French supporters with tricolour wigs, rooster hats, and red, white and blue drapes; Kiwis almost all in black, with silver hats, fern antlers, and enveloped in New Zealand flags. The black T-shirt, with the slogan ‘Keep calm/Piri’s on’, was everywhere. There was a team of people offering elaborate face painting; guitarists playing on every corner; and a juggler was performing high up on top of an elevated bicycle and surrounded by a circle of gawking admirers. People were laughing, ribbing their mates, doing impromptu hakas, and taking endless photos. Queen’s Wharf had already closed; but no-one seemed to mind. There were other places to go and watch the game on the big screen. Aucklanders were partying - and this was before that nail-biting finish gave them something real to celebrate.

A young All Black fan

World Cup 2011 and the REAL New Zealand Festival is now over. I can return to my humdrum life. After six weeks on the road, it is time for a few overall impressions.

One big party: The image which will stick in the mind is of Kiwis learning to party in public. The tradition of public carnivals is not deep in our culture. It used to be said that at the weekend the streets of our cities were so empty that you could fire a cannon down the main street and not hit a soul. On occasions when we did celebrate, such as VE and VJ days at the end of World War 2, people did not know how to behave or hold their drink; and once the kissing of strangers was over there was drunken hooliganism and breaking of windows. But the world cup has taught us how to have fun on the streets. True, the one real crisis of the cup came about at Queen’s Wharf on opening night; but this was simply a reflection of how keen we were to party. Once that crisis was worked through, the organising of the national party - at fanzones and other public places throughout the country was superb. There was plenty of alcohol drunk, but there was little aggro or wanton violence against property. We sang and laughed and danced and cheered. Huge street parties was not how I had imagined the cup; but it is the enduring impression. And this was despite that fact that early spring in New Zealand is never the most pleasant time to be outside at night - five of the first games I attended were in the rain. But it did not stop the music playing.

Good hosts: It may be simply our national insecurity - our desire to be liked. But there is no doubt that New Zealanders went out of their way to help our guests. The ‘Kia ora’s as you entered an exhibition, or the ‘How can I help you?’ which flowed from those wonderful volunteers in their blue uniforms were really appreciated. I spoke to at least 100 overseas fans, and their comments on the ‘warmth’ of the welcome became almost tedious.

Nationalism: If you landed in New Zealand on Sunday and saw the ‘Go All Blacks’ signs on farm gates and suburban fences, and the black flags with silver ferns on cars, you might have worried that a dangerous nationalism had taken hold. ‘Patriotism is’, after all, ‘the last refuge of a scoundrel‘. However, colour aside, this was not the black-shirts nationalism of the fascist state. There were a few ugly asides, such as the petty anti-Australianism, but in general it was a light-hearted nationalism, no more than a pride in the country’s footie team and a deep desire to express our best. Impressively, a love of New Zealand flowered alongside a real effort to learn about other countries. I will not forget the large window display in a New Plymouth store providing a map of Namibia and an interesting caption about its economy and way of life; or the way Napier divided its central city into quarters representing the countries that played there; or Palmerston North’s relabelling of Main St as Romania St and George St as Georgia street and their encouragement to everyone to wear red or yellow buckets.

Dunedin campervans

Campervanners: I had expected that most of the overseas fans would be relatively affluent people, eating in posh restaurants and staying in motels or hotels. From the moment that I checked in at the St Kilda motor camp and saw the huge army of campervans spread out over two football fields I began to realise that most were young, doing it on the cheap and heading for hamburger joints. This was confirmed when I saw vacancy signs at motels on match days at every place I visited, and when I was the recipient of an avalanche of moans from taxi-drivers about their lack of patronage. The profile of the visitors undoubtedly affected their response to the festival. I nearly always discovered a few non-New Zealanders at the exhibitions, concerts and plays I attended. The rugby widows undoubtedly enjoyed the cultural offerings. But the numbers of overseas visitors at such events were not great. Most, quite frankly, were more interested in enjoying fun in the bars with their countrymen. The audience who loved the festival were the locals. So, the achievement of the festival was to give us a richer sense of ourselves.

An outpouring of talent: I never ceased to be amazed at the outpouring of creativity which the cup released and which the REAL New Zealand festival pulled together so brilliantly. Each day when I looked at the festival programme, I was faced by tough mouth-watering choices. The number and range of offerings was deeply impressive. At times this meant that the audience was spread too thin; at times it meant that not everything was done to the same high standard. I would sometimes turn up to see a dance group and find it had been cancelled; or go to an exhibition and find the labels were incorrect or wrongly positioned. But the energy and ingenuity of the offerings, whether it was street theatre or a showcase event, was a constant. An awful lot of New Zealanders had their creative juices flowing over the last year. And as for the food - well, you could not take part in this festival without enjoying some truly delicious tastes.

The Māori response: I had not set out to look for Māori culture in the festival, but time and again this is what I found. I saw a wonderful Māori dance, Te Houhi: The people and the land; a powerful Māori play, I, George Nepia; an ambitious but largely successful opera with kapa haka, Arohanui; several exhibitions on Māori rugby and influential Māori rugby players; and I just loved the way Māori presented their culture in a living way. Whether it was at the Haka exhibition at Hamilton or in the tents at the entrance to Waka Māori, visitors saw tattooing, weaving, carving and kapa haka in action. They were encouraged to eat hangi foods, sing waiata, do a haka. As a Pākehā, I sometimes felt that Pākehā culture, not Māori, was a museum relic!

Best rugby exhibition: I saw too many rugby exhibitions for my own good on this tour, and too many consisted of lengthy texts extolling past heroes along with a collection of tired objects such as old programmes or boots. Because the presentation was always lively and original, and it made a real effort to present rugby as a culture involving many people in the society not just the heroes, the best was ‘Red, Yellow and Black’ at the Waikato Museum.

Best non-rugby exhibition: I loved renewing acquaintance with Len Lye in New Plymouth’s Govett-Brewster and Ralph Hotere in Dunedin; but the biggest challenge to my view of the world was in Nelson with George Shaw’s brilliant exhibition on street art, ‘Oi You.’

Best music: The single most affecting musical moment was Kiri Te Kanawa singing alone ‘Pokarekareana’ as a third encoure at her gala concert. It had us all in tears. But for sustained music I loved Annie Crummer’s energetic singing in The Cloud.

Best theatrical experience: This is a tough one, since I saw some brilliant theatre on my tour. I, George Nepia was fascinating and highly relevant; Finding Murdoch was engrossing; and The Earthquake in Chile, which was pitched so perfectly to its Christchurch audience, was one of the most emotionally intense evenings I have spent in my life. But I will never forget the emotional power of Te Houhi. It brilliantly evoked the human tragedy which colonisation brought to parts of this land.

Best match day: Perhaps because they were smaller and the event was more unusual, match day in the provincial centres was something special. New Plymouth was brilliantly organised and the compact entertainment on the waterfront was superb; Napier’s adoption of the Canadian and French teams was done with real charm; the walk to the new stadium at Dunedin was one long drawn-out entertainment; and the pre-match programme in Palmerston North’s Square was most enjoyable; but the match day in Rotorua will live longest in my memory because I was there for an Irish match, and the Irish fans simply have to be seen, and even more heard, to be believed.

Most upsetting moment: This was not when I heard that Dan Carter had hurt his groin, or when the French scored their try in the final. It came when I reached Christchurch’s Bridge of Remembrance, looked through to see the empty macadam where buildings long known to me had once stood and read the sad inscriptions on the wreathes laid against the wire barrier.

It was a moment such as this that put the cup into perspective. It’s great that we have learnt to party in public. The REAL New Zealand Festival was a brilliant showcase of this country’s talent and creativity. It made us all proud to be Kiwis. I feel as if we have been on holiday for six weeks; and have come back home refreshed. But when the party is over…….

I look forward to joining you next time!

During the REAL New Zealand Festival, which runs alongside Rugby World Cup 2011, our Jock is roaming the country and blogging about it for the REAL New Zealand Festival Insider blog.

Everyone who was anyone was there: John Key, Mark Sainsbury, the deputy Prime Minister of Russia, Miss Russia, the world’s richest vodka king, the US Ambassador – and me. There were also rugby fans from every nation – Irish, Aussies, Fins, and a large number of Americans. We had all come because we were intrigued by the battle of the former superpowers.

I had marked the USA-Russia game as essential on my itinerary. I grew up in the fifties when we snuggled under America’s nuclear protection, saw Khruschev beating his shoes on the table, and got nervous when JFK took us to the brink at the Cuba missile crisis. We worried in case ‘the free world’ would not be first to the moon, and we hunted for reds under our beds. We read Time magazine; watched Hollywood westerns; and worshipped Elvis. So I just had to be there to see the Cold War replayed.

US band in the International Village

I wandered down to the Festival’s International Village where, to my delight, the US Marine Forces Pacific band were playing…

Read more on the Real NZ Festival blog…

This post is part of a series remembering the 1981 Springbok Tour.

I watched Tom Scott’s drama Rage about the 1981 Springbok Tour on the tele last Sunday night. Though I didn’t think much of the femme fatale storyline – it centred on a Māori police graduate who infiltrated an anti-tour protest group, hopped into bed with a Pākehā protest leader and then fed the pillow talk back to her bosses – the premise that the tour was profoundly personal rang true.

The tour divided families, friends and fraternities. In my case, the tour strained the closest relationship I had at the time: with my twin brother Tom. As kids we were best friends. We shared the same room, played the same games and were in the same classes at school. By the 6th form (year 11) we had begun to find our own identities. He started wearing rugby jerseys and threw himself into the first-15 culture; I bought a Clash T-shirt and drifted towards the art-room gang of politicos and punks.

In the lead up Tom and I had a few talks about the forthcoming tour. He spouted the rugby boofhead line that the sports and politics should not be mixed and all he was interested in was the rugby. I retorted that such an ideal was absurd and had been since Hitler staged the 1936 Olympics – but he hadn’t done 5th form history so didn’t get the allusion. We decided we wouldn’t change each other’s view, so we formed a kind of détente where we agreed we would try and get along for the length of the tour. At that stage I was still hoping Muldoon would come to his senses and pull the plug before the Springboks arrived. But of course he didn’t and the team arrived on 19 July – which was also Tom’s and my 17th birthday.

The pitch invasion at the Hamilton game

After the pitch invasion that stopped the Hamilton game I shouted in triumph and Tom got surly. Following the batoning of anti-tour protesters in Molesworth Street, he bluntly told me they got what they deserved. The détente was cracking. When the Wellington test came I joined a protest march trying to invade Athletic Park; he went to a friend’s place to drink beer and watch the game on the tele. In the following weeks the curtain that hung down the middle of our room to prevent disturbance from reading lamps became permanently drawn: our ‘iron curtain’. And the conversations that we used to have about our days before going to sleep ceased. Sneers replaced smiles.

In retrospect, Tom had it harder than I did. We were a family of woolly liberals. Dad had been involved in the 1960 ‘No Maoris, No Tour’ campaign and had recounted tales of joining a moving picket around the Square in Palmerston North and being pelted with abuse. Tom no doubt felt isolated from the rest of us and clammed up. But I think we did all watch the final Eden Park (flour bomb) test together and cheered when Allan Hewson kicked the series-winning penalty. For Tom I imagine it a great All Black rugby moment; for me it was relief that it wasn’t a propaganda victory for the apartheid regime. Not long after the tour our older brother left home and Tom moved into the vacated room. We were soon speaking again but, since then, have never mentioned our ‘cold war’. Perhaps, like many other battle-weary New Zealanders, we just wanted to forget that the tour’s 56 surreal days had ever happened and get on with living.

It seems to me that the only winner out of the fiasco was Muldoon. The pro-tour rural vote saw him narrowly win the 1981 election. One of the things Rage depicted was the extent (unknown to me) to which his officials tried to get him to call off the tour even as it was proceeding. That he ignored this advice and was prepared to let his country rip its own guts out for political gain highlights the deep cynicism of the man. So this Monday – 12 September and the 30th anniversary of the end of the tour – I’ll celebrate that we’ve never had another leader like him. I’ll also give Tom a ring.