Current interpretations of iwi in contemporary Māori society have brewed the parallel idea of a primordial, ever-present identity. As the detribalisation period of Māori society advanced a Māori cultural renaissance (Webster: 1998:28), the retribalisation period was correlated with an iwi cultural renaissance. The notion of iwitanga, or ‘iwiness’,
52 Part of the project for Kahungunu unification was also to make the administration and distribution of
education and health services to Māori across Kahungunu rohe more manageable and under visibly Māori control.
strengthened in this period as its signifier iwi became a widely recognised and accepted representation of ‘traditional’ Māori society54. Propelling the notion of iwitanga is tribal
awareness, knowledge and pride, and the assertion of historic tribal difference within Māoridom, making a Māori identity seem peripheral to one’s tribal 'true-self’. During the Fisheries Claims in the 1990’s, prominent Māori leaders proclaimed iwi (or hapū) as the focal point of their cultural identity over a more pan-Māori label in a national attempt to identify the rightful bearers of the country’s fishing quota. Prominent Māori leaders, such as Ngāi Tahu’s Sir Tipene O’Regan, espoused an identity centred on the tribe and moreover, invalidated the experiences of being a non-iwi Māori: “‘I regard myself as Ngāi Tahu…the thing that makes me uniquely of this place – is my Ngai Tahu descent. I’m not interested in that being a part of a general Māori descent in particular’” (cited in O’Regan 2001:55). For some, to accept non-iwi Māori as the rightful inheritors of Treaty rights and settlements was to challenge the definitions and understandings of contested concepts such as ‘Māori’, ‘iwi’ and ‘tribe’55. According to Tipene O’Regan’s discourse, to
be authentically Māori is really to ‘be tribal’, and to ‘be tribal’ equates to being cognisant of one’s whakapapa, as well as being intra/inter-tribally recognised as a member of an iwi/hapū; for him, identity necessitates being quantifiably measured. In addition to being a ‘return to tradition’, iwi pride became a form of resistance to being homogenised and ethnicised as Māori. For example, John Rangihau privileges his Tūhoetanga over Māoritanga, claiming the primacy of his tribal identity (Meredith 1998:9–10). However, the same voices proclaiming an organic form of iwi subjectivity did in fact ‘turn to the past’ to justify their use of iwi/hapū in a fixed and permanent way, displaying what Maaka calls, the dominance of the Best/Firth model as a “deeply-entrenched stereotype” (2003:201), even amongst some Māori.
Māoritanga today is largely measured by a given set of conventional indicators, which include: self-identification, whakapapa, marae participation, whānau associations, ties to ancestral land, involvement in te ao Māori, contact with Māori people, institutions and
54 In extreme cases, iwitanga is relegated to a form of tribal fundamentalism, where strict criteria is
outlined for not only belonging, but even claiming an identity as an iwi-Māori; meaning that self- identification is no longer a substantial enough qualifier. John Tamihere is famous for vocalising anti- fundamentalist sentiments and for politicising the politics of exclusion that such an ideology can purport (Butcher 2003:44-45).
networks, and competence in te reo Māori (Durie 2003:69; Stevenson 2004:37). However, problems arise in securing a positive sense of Māori-self and inclusion in the Māori world for those who may lack the aforementioned ‘tenets’ of what has become a dogmatic form of Māori identity56. Moreover, for those Māori who are aware of their
whakapapa and tribal connections (i.e. iwi-Māori), there is even greater expectancy to meet and ‘perform’ those qualifying attributes, including those peculiar to their particular tribes. Often, if they do not meet those cultural expectations they are seen by tribal members as less ‘authentic’ and according to Hana O’Regan (2001:101), thought to be unworthy of full tribal participation.
Meredith (2000) warns against exercising Māoritanga as a kind of permanent
essentialism that at the very least dehistoricises and naturalises the Māori subject, and at
its worst, leads to the exclusion of those who do not display ‘authentic’ Māori behavior and traits. Although Meredith does not argue this in light of iwitanga, we should nonetheless be careful not to solely view iwitanga as a totalising ontological essentialism filled with strict and limited participatory criteria, that if not met, excludes kin members who may otherwise wish to participate in the tribe. The exclusion of kin members can invalidate unconventional experiences and alternative expressions of tribal identity that can serve as examples of tribal continuity. Borell (2005) petitions for the exigency of investigations that seek to locate peripheral expressions of Māori identity that may challenge, complement and expand orthodox understandings of ‘being Māori’. However, in investigations of Māori society, group particularities must not get completely overlooked and absorbed by the generalities made on behalf of Māori (Guerin et al. 2006; Irwin 1992). In fact, as the tribe remains at the heart of Māori identity (Maaka 1994:314, 2003:iv; Maaka and Fleras 2005:68), studies in Māori society could benefit from considering tribal dimensions, in order to fill deficiencies in understandings of identity and belonging. And so, I extend Borell’s petition into the tribal domain of iwi.
As Māoritanga is about being and enacting “the Māori way” (Meredith 2000:10), iwitanga is concerned with ‘the iwi way’57, as there are different cultural properties,
histories, protocol, dialects and customary practices that stylise iwi groups, distinguishing
56 Examples of such alienation and exclusion are with urban rangatahi Māori (Borell 2005; van Meijl
2006) and those classified as non-iwi or predominantly ethnic-Māori (McIntosh 2005).
them from one another. Therefore, if iwitanga is about ‘the iwi way’, then, Kahungunutanga naturally is concerned with ‘the Kahungunu way’, the cultural identity of Kahungunu people and how they are essentially, Kahungunu. However, in the same way that Ihimaera (1998:16) says of Māori, Kahungunu are not today what their ancestors were yesterday, nor will their descendents of tomorrow be what they are presently. Similarly, as Jacq Carter (1998:259) suggests of Māori identity, we can consider how there is no uniform Kahungunu reality, nor one kind of Kahungunu identity, especially since Kahungunu are not replicas of each other. They are individuals who articulate their identities in diverse, unique and specific ways. How, then, does one determine the characteristics of the ‘Kahungunu personality’– especially for a people composed of layered, internal (group) difference – and who determines the composites of that personality? Can there really be a ‘Kahungunu way’ in the midst of layers of difference and splintering? And, can it avert the opposite type of extremism, in what Borell (2005), Meredith (2000) and Tamihere (Butcher 2003) caution us against: an ontological fundamentalism that leads to the politics of exclusion and marginalisation? Has the movement of Kahungunu people outside of their tribal grounds to Wellington spawned identity articulations and social groupings that can possibly challenge the project or contradict the notion of a unified Kahungunu whole58? Kahungunutanga as
expressed by my interviewees, provides a conceptual language, while Diaspora theory is engaged with as a theoretical frame, to directly address these questions, as well as those of ‘be(com)ingness’ proposed earlier in this chapter.
IV. Theoretical Framework