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Tupuna Awa: People and Politics of the Waikato River
'We have always owned the water . . . we have never ceded our mana over the river to anyone’, King Tuheitia Paki asserted in 2012. Prime Minister John Key ‘King Tuheitia’s claim that Maori have always owned New Zealand’s water is just plain wrong’. So who does own the water in New Zealand – if anyone – and why does it matter? Offering some human context around that fraught question, Tupuna Awa looks at the people and politics of the Waikato River. For iwi and hapu of the lands that border its 425-kilometre length, the Waikato River is an ancestor, a taonga and a source of mauri, lying at the heart of identity and chiefly power. It is also subject to governing oversight by the Crown and intersected by hydro-stations managed by state-owned power a situation rife with complexity and subject to shifting and subtle power dynamics. Marama Muru-Lanning explains how Maori of the region, the Crown and Mighty River Power have talked about the ownership, guardianship and stakeholders of the river.
256 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 2017
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August 17, 2020
Early in 2017 New Zealand made the news globally when the Crown and Māori in the middle of the North Island reached an agreement that gave the Whanganui River rights akin to personhood in what is widely seen as a world first. Globally, other Indigenous communities and peoples have sought similar kinds of protection and status for waterways over the years. Crucially, in this agreement the river became Tupuna Awa, an ancestral river, whose wellbeing is part of the overall wellbeing and status of the people of that river. This impressive ethnography by Marama Muru-Lanning explores similar issues some way north of the Whanganui region, dealing with the Waikato River, flowing from Lake Taupō in the middle of the Island, reaching the sea just south of Auckland. The river’s headwaters, though, lie on the northern edge of the Whanganui catchment around the three volcanoes of the island’s central plateau.
The river is a powerful phenomenon, navigable for quite some distance and since the early 20th century a key site of New Zealand’s developing hydro-electric power supply. As a kid I was taught about the importance of the Waikato dams and several in the South Island as the foundation of New Zealand’s modernisation and its industrial and economic growth, and had and have kinfolk dependent on the river for their employment and for some of their leisure. As I got older I learned about the importance of waterways to Māori identities, not just as exploitable resources but as kin, as sites of life and healing, and as ontologically significant both individually and collectively (to the extent that those can be distinguished). So part of my approach to this book is shaped by a desire to engage more with a place I know (even if I am a hemisphere away) and that is a key part of several of my immediate family members’ live. I came at it with another strand however, where much of the Crown-Māori relationship of the last 30 years has been mediated settlement of disputes arising from breaches of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. For several years in the late 1990s I was a Crown official working on some of those negotiations – not in this area, but nearby, and dealing with issues of river ‘ownership’. This is by way of saying my position and approach to this book is distinctive, all the more so because professionally my work as an historian deals with and is shaped by colonialism and decoloniality.
Muru-Lanning, who I have heard talk on these issues at academic conferences, doesn’t deal with the whole river, focusing instead on the lower third, north of Karapiro and within the rohe (territory) of peoples sharing Tainui descent. Yet this is not a broad exploration of the river and relations with it, but a tight focus on the late 1990s through to the early 2010s. In doing so she delves into shifting relationships in part as a result of matters within the wider Tainui confederation and especially in Kingitanga, a movement from the mid-1850s with considerable status and affiliation in this central North Island region. Alongside this, she explores changes within the Crown and especially the privatisation of the electricity industry adding new entities to negotiations over settlement of those breaches that in the Waikato area were particularly egregious.
Woven through her analysis is the notion that words have meanings, and specific words matter meaning that she explores the ways relationships with the river are understood through the ways they are discussed, spoken of and described. As is the case with many cases of discussions across cultural formations and languages, translation becomes vital – not so much of particular words (athough some become crucial) but of concepts. (This was an issue I had grappled with as a negotiator, as it became clear that Māori objectives did not fit into New Zealand’s inherited British common law.)
The analysis here, therefore, unpacks three competing discourses. The first is the tikanga based discourse of the people of the river, including an exploration of who those people are and how they are ‘organised’. This gives us some sharp insight to the forces shaping contemporary Māori society where the day to day life of whānau, hapū and marae are in various forms of tension with the becoming more corporate (and the focus of state engagement) iwi as a larger configuration, with, in this case, the extra layer of Kingitanga. Muru-Lanning deftly unpicks many of the relationships among these elements, bringing to bear her insider knowledge through her affiliations with one of the region’s central (and nationally significant) marae, while it seems working hard to ensure that the specific she discusses are already in the public domain, or that her interviewees have authorised her use of that knowledge. The point from this is that tangata whenua, the people of the river, are not a homogenous single unit, and more significantly one of the major issues in the study is the shifting relationships within and between these elements, especially the status of and relations with Kingitanga.
The second strand is the Crown, seeking resolution of claims, looking to mitigate the dangers of being perceived as granting ‘special provisions’ (there is a strong reactionary ‘one law’ discourse including in the conservative strands of parliamentarians and their publics) and shaped by precedent and by common law, including the provision that no-one can ‘own’ water. This means that the question of ‘ownership’ of the river – remembering that this river is an ancestor – has been at the heart of the issues this book explores. The third strand is the newly privatised electricity generation companies now owning hydro, thermal and gas fired power stations along the river. For part of the period under discussion the state retained an interest in these companies, but their interests are primarily commercial and they add a language neo-liberal management to the dynamic, specifically the question of ‘stakeholders’.
This is a decidedly academic text, and includes the paraphernalia of our world meaning that Muru-Lanning includes discussion of methods and her theoretical approaches. She spells out in some detail and very clearly the conceptual frames she is deploying from discourses analysis (leaving this until late in the book so the issues have been explored and teased out in considerable detail – but even so it might come as a bit of a shock to some readers). She also makes sure to problematize her insider-outsider status, also leaving the conclusion open – these are not resolved issues, but a condition in transition. Crucially she stresses her base in Kaupapa Māori Research, an approach grounded in Māori ways of being; as in ‘insider’, as ‘of Waikato’ and even with her academic credentials, therefore seen as of specific whānau and marae (in her case Tūrangawaewae, with all its associations with Kingitanga) such an approach was essential and placed particular obligations on her throughout.
Throughout the analysis she stresses that words matter, that sequences and meanings matter, that a key shift she explores from Tupuna Awa (ancestral river) to Te Awa Tupuna (river ancestor) matters vitally. Alongside this shift, she unpacks a very significant equation of guardianship with kaitiakitanga; like all translations – similar(ish) but not the same thing. This is the depth of detail Muru-Lanning explores and spells out for readers, recognising that many in her audience will not be aware of any of this detail and nuance; she manages this translation (both between settler and Indigenous systems, and of academic forms) impressively. In doing so she has given us an important and powerful text in contemporary New Zealand studies with significant relevance across other cases of Indigenous-settler state relations.
The river is a powerful phenomenon, navigable for quite some distance and since the early 20th century a key site of New Zealand’s developing hydro-electric power supply. As a kid I was taught about the importance of the Waikato dams and several in the South Island as the foundation of New Zealand’s modernisation and its industrial and economic growth, and had and have kinfolk dependent on the river for their employment and for some of their leisure. As I got older I learned about the importance of waterways to Māori identities, not just as exploitable resources but as kin, as sites of life and healing, and as ontologically significant both individually and collectively (to the extent that those can be distinguished). So part of my approach to this book is shaped by a desire to engage more with a place I know (even if I am a hemisphere away) and that is a key part of several of my immediate family members’ live. I came at it with another strand however, where much of the Crown-Māori relationship of the last 30 years has been mediated settlement of disputes arising from breaches of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. For several years in the late 1990s I was a Crown official working on some of those negotiations – not in this area, but nearby, and dealing with issues of river ‘ownership’. This is by way of saying my position and approach to this book is distinctive, all the more so because professionally my work as an historian deals with and is shaped by colonialism and decoloniality.
Muru-Lanning, who I have heard talk on these issues at academic conferences, doesn’t deal with the whole river, focusing instead on the lower third, north of Karapiro and within the rohe (territory) of peoples sharing Tainui descent. Yet this is not a broad exploration of the river and relations with it, but a tight focus on the late 1990s through to the early 2010s. In doing so she delves into shifting relationships in part as a result of matters within the wider Tainui confederation and especially in Kingitanga, a movement from the mid-1850s with considerable status and affiliation in this central North Island region. Alongside this, she explores changes within the Crown and especially the privatisation of the electricity industry adding new entities to negotiations over settlement of those breaches that in the Waikato area were particularly egregious.
Woven through her analysis is the notion that words have meanings, and specific words matter meaning that she explores the ways relationships with the river are understood through the ways they are discussed, spoken of and described. As is the case with many cases of discussions across cultural formations and languages, translation becomes vital – not so much of particular words (athough some become crucial) but of concepts. (This was an issue I had grappled with as a negotiator, as it became clear that Māori objectives did not fit into New Zealand’s inherited British common law.)
The analysis here, therefore, unpacks three competing discourses. The first is the tikanga based discourse of the people of the river, including an exploration of who those people are and how they are ‘organised’. This gives us some sharp insight to the forces shaping contemporary Māori society where the day to day life of whānau, hapū and marae are in various forms of tension with the becoming more corporate (and the focus of state engagement) iwi as a larger configuration, with, in this case, the extra layer of Kingitanga. Muru-Lanning deftly unpicks many of the relationships among these elements, bringing to bear her insider knowledge through her affiliations with one of the region’s central (and nationally significant) marae, while it seems working hard to ensure that the specific she discusses are already in the public domain, or that her interviewees have authorised her use of that knowledge. The point from this is that tangata whenua, the people of the river, are not a homogenous single unit, and more significantly one of the major issues in the study is the shifting relationships within and between these elements, especially the status of and relations with Kingitanga.
The second strand is the Crown, seeking resolution of claims, looking to mitigate the dangers of being perceived as granting ‘special provisions’ (there is a strong reactionary ‘one law’ discourse including in the conservative strands of parliamentarians and their publics) and shaped by precedent and by common law, including the provision that no-one can ‘own’ water. This means that the question of ‘ownership’ of the river – remembering that this river is an ancestor – has been at the heart of the issues this book explores. The third strand is the newly privatised electricity generation companies now owning hydro, thermal and gas fired power stations along the river. For part of the period under discussion the state retained an interest in these companies, but their interests are primarily commercial and they add a language neo-liberal management to the dynamic, specifically the question of ‘stakeholders’.
This is a decidedly academic text, and includes the paraphernalia of our world meaning that Muru-Lanning includes discussion of methods and her theoretical approaches. She spells out in some detail and very clearly the conceptual frames she is deploying from discourses analysis (leaving this until late in the book so the issues have been explored and teased out in considerable detail – but even so it might come as a bit of a shock to some readers). She also makes sure to problematize her insider-outsider status, also leaving the conclusion open – these are not resolved issues, but a condition in transition. Crucially she stresses her base in Kaupapa Māori Research, an approach grounded in Māori ways of being; as in ‘insider’, as ‘of Waikato’ and even with her academic credentials, therefore seen as of specific whānau and marae (in her case Tūrangawaewae, with all its associations with Kingitanga) such an approach was essential and placed particular obligations on her throughout.
Throughout the analysis she stresses that words matter, that sequences and meanings matter, that a key shift she explores from Tupuna Awa (ancestral river) to Te Awa Tupuna (river ancestor) matters vitally. Alongside this shift, she unpacks a very significant equation of guardianship with kaitiakitanga; like all translations – similar(ish) but not the same thing. This is the depth of detail Muru-Lanning explores and spells out for readers, recognising that many in her audience will not be aware of any of this detail and nuance; she manages this translation (both between settler and Indigenous systems, and of academic forms) impressively. In doing so she has given us an important and powerful text in contemporary New Zealand studies with significant relevance across other cases of Indigenous-settler state relations.
September 28, 2019
I read this book as part of the Bookriot 2019 Read Harder Challenge for the categories of: An #ownvoices book set in Oceania, and A book published prior to Jan. 1, 2019 with fewer than 100 reviews on Goodreads.
I knew this would be a challenging read for me because it's an academic book published by Auckland University Press, but I was expecting the challenge to be one of comprehension and instead it turned out to be one of overcoming boredom.
For a layperson such as myself this book is just not well written. It is repetitive to the point of tedium. The text could have been restructured and edited in such a way to make it a really interesting read - interesting enough to match the cover which disguises the content. Both the cover and the blurb on the back send the message that this is an accessible read, but it most definitely is not.
All of which is a shame, because there's a really interesting point of view being put forward here. The history of the Waikato region is deep, and deeply interesting. The focus in this book on the river and the people of the river, their relationships and power struggles should have been gripping.
One of the points that Marama Muru-Lanning keeps coming back to is the way discourse is used to control knowledge and narrative and concentrate power in the hands of the elite groups who control that discourse. The irony is that this book is written in the discourse of anthropology, making it inaccessible to the majority of people who aren't anthropologists and maintaining the elitism of academia.
It is possible to write an academic text in plain language without sacrificing quality or depth of argument. Whoever edited this at Auckland University Press failed miserably at this, but sadly I suspect they didn't even try, being happy to nourish the elite at the expense of the many.
I knew this would be a challenging read for me because it's an academic book published by Auckland University Press, but I was expecting the challenge to be one of comprehension and instead it turned out to be one of overcoming boredom.
For a layperson such as myself this book is just not well written. It is repetitive to the point of tedium. The text could have been restructured and edited in such a way to make it a really interesting read - interesting enough to match the cover which disguises the content. Both the cover and the blurb on the back send the message that this is an accessible read, but it most definitely is not.
All of which is a shame, because there's a really interesting point of view being put forward here. The history of the Waikato region is deep, and deeply interesting. The focus in this book on the river and the people of the river, their relationships and power struggles should have been gripping.
One of the points that Marama Muru-Lanning keeps coming back to is the way discourse is used to control knowledge and narrative and concentrate power in the hands of the elite groups who control that discourse. The irony is that this book is written in the discourse of anthropology, making it inaccessible to the majority of people who aren't anthropologists and maintaining the elitism of academia.
It is possible to write an academic text in plain language without sacrificing quality or depth of argument. Whoever edited this at Auckland University Press failed miserably at this, but sadly I suspect they didn't even try, being happy to nourish the elite at the expense of the many.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews