How Māori activists are using radical protest to dismantle colonial narratives

On Dec. 11, 2023, members of the protest group Te Waka Hourua defaced the English part of “The Treaty of Waitangi: Signs of a Nation” exhibit at Te Papa Tongarewa, or the Museum of New Zealand, with power tools and spray paint. The exhibit introduces museum visitors to the Treaty of Waitangi, Aotearoa New Zealand’s founding constitutional document, via two large sets of wooden panels which present the Māori and English texts of the treaty. The protesters argued that Te Papa Tongarewa, commonly known as “Te Papa,” had not sufficiently highlighted the differences between the English and Māori texts and their unequal legal status, instead representing them as accurate translations of each other that had equal status in law.

The protest was contentious and effective. It received considerable media coverage, generated discussion about the protesters’ claims, and eight days later the museum announced that it was “renewing” the exhibition, meaning they will be having conversations with communities — including Māori — to rethink this exhibit. The museum stated that, “We have heard the message of this protest action, and we have heard the many and varied responses to it.” We suggest that this effectiveness comes, in part, from the protest’s radical nature. By taking radical action the activists were able to disrupt, shift and fracture hegemonic understandings of the Treaty of Waitangi and colonization in Aotearoa.

The treaty vs te tiriti

The two texts of the Treaty of Waitangi and their differences are key to Aotearoa’s debates about colonization and constitutional matters. The English text, referred to as “the treaty,” was written in 1840 by representatives of the British Crown and then translated into Māori by two missionaries. It granted the Crown “all the rights and powers of sovereignty” (the British monarch remains the head of state in now-independent New Zealand, and the government is often referred to as “the Crown”).

The Māori language text, referred to as “te tiriti,” which was signed by the vast majority of Māori chiefs, is technically the version that carries weight in international law. The British had drafted the original treaty’s English text and then had missionaries translate it in Māori, but it included some mistranslations. In a key section it uses the Māori word kawanatanga (a transliteration of the English “government” or “governance”) as a translation for the English text’s “sovereignty,” whereas it should have used the more accurate rangatiratanga (chiefly authority). Indeed, the second article of te tiriti reserves rangatiratanga for Māori. Analysis of this text has led scholars and activists to argue that Māori never ceded their sovereignty, but were instead asking the Crown to control wayward settlers.

Under modern international treaty law, the Indigenous text should carry more weight, because the English drafted both versions and you can’t have expected Māori, almost none of whom spoke English, to agree to something they couldn’t read. According to New Zealand’s Waitangi Tribunal, “The contra proferentem rule that in the event of ambiguity such a provision should be construed against the party which drafted or proposed that provision (in this case the Crown) applies.”

The treaty is central to Aotearoa’s colonial history. On the basis of a signed treaty, Britain claimed Aotearoa as a colony in 1840 and devolved that authority to a local parliament in 1852. The New Zealand government subsequently engaged in a range of settler-colonial practices, including war, the confiscation and theft of land, the erasure of Indigenous forms of knowledge and language, and the imposition of a range of political, social and economic systems imported from Europe. By the 1990s Māori landholdings were reduced to approximately six percent of Aotearoa. In 1975 the government created a Waitangi Tribunal which in 1985 was empowered to consider historical breaches of the treaty. Over the past 40 years there have been a series of agreements between the Crown and tribes, which have returned over $2 billion to Māori, with additional claims in process. This compensation remains minuscule — less than two percent of the value of land stolen.

In spite of the damage to Māori and benefits to settlers of colonization, treaty settlement processes have been challenged by some white New Zealanders. These New Zealanders often believe that colonization only occurred in the past and was good for Māori, that Māori ceded sovereignty to the Crown by signing the treaty, that land stolen from Māori is justly owned by settlers, that Aotearoa is primarily a white European and English-speaking nation, and that European institutions and systems in Aotearoa are legitimate.

Colonial hegemonies

According to Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci, hegemony is dominant understandings of the world which maintain systems of dominance such as colonization. Hegemonies are neither fixed nor absolute but instead inherently unstable due to their exploitative and inequitable nature. They therefore require ongoing maintenance as this instability becomes evident.

One way that hegemonies are maintained is by what Georgina Stewart calls “truth myths” — distorted understandings of history and social reality that present positive views of colonization. Truth myths help to maintain settler dominance in Aotearoa and enable those who benefit most from colonization to avoid examining and being accountable for their privileged positions in society.

For example, many New Zealanders continue to adopt “white savior” understandings of colonization, built on myths that pre-colonization Māori were uncivilized, violent and cannibalistic. These beliefs ignore the considerable evidence that Māori built a complicated society with considerable Indigenous knowledge, incredible journeys across the Pacific, and a range of approaches to harm, including systems of restorative justice.

These truth myths are supported by what Joanna Kidman has termed processes of “cultural forgetting,” where select elements of our histories are emphasised and celebrated while others are quietly forgotten. Cultural forgetting can be enforced by institutions such as museums, which are tasked with representing national histories. Museums can challenge citizens to consider what our colonial past means for how we approach social relations and politics in the present. However, they can also promote understandings of history that re-entrench hegemonic understandings of, for example, constitutional documents such as the treaty/te tiriti, asking us to forget our colonial past to offload accountability in our colonial present.

Māori individuals and groups such as Te Waka Hourua, or TWH, have challenged museums to recognize the ways they maintain colonial hegemonies. These groups push museums to rethink how they represent cultural artefacts, demanding that they tell stories about colonial pasts that represent Indigenous understandings and encourage us to consider the injustices of our colonial present.

Te Waka Hourua’s campaign at Te Papa

TWH is an activist group in Aotearoa that brings together Māori and non-Māori allies to highlight the relationship between colonization and the climate crisis. The protest at Te Papa was the latest action in TWH’s campaign to get the museum to change how the English version of the treaty is presented. Previous actions had involved petitioning for the exhibit to be changed and peacefully protesting the exhibit without causing any damage.

During this campaign, TWH highlighted how the “Signs of a Nation” exhibit maintains colonial hegemonies. First, the presentation of the two texts on large wooden panels which sit opposite each other represents them as translations of each other, rather than two documents with significant textual differences. Second, the presentation of the two texts on identical large wooden panels gives the texts similar status, rather than elevating the Māori text as legally more significant. Finally, because the vast majority of the museum’s 1.5 million average annual visitors speak English rather than Māori, their ability to understand the Māori text is limited to what the museum provides in English.

When constructive engagement with the museum and non-disruptive protest were unsuccessful, TWH turned to more radical protest, defacing the panels presenting the English text with paint and power tools. Twelve protesters were arrested on a variety of charges, one of whom was held for three nights before being released.

Disrupting, shifting and fracturing hegemonies through radical protest

We argue that radical protest like the one at Te Papa can help to dismantle colonial hegemonies in three ways. First, TWH disrupted the truth myth that Māori ceded sovereignty to the Crown by signing the treaty, an understanding that has supported colonial institutions and processes of violence over the past 184 years. The protest generated a media platform for treaty experts to popularize a more accurate history: that the English text of the Treaty — which very few Māori signed — was not the key constitutional document, and therefore rangatiratanga (sovereignty) had not been ceded.

Second, TWH shifted colonial hegemonies that presented radical alternatives that challenged established truth myths. New Zealanders who accepted colonial hegemonies were presented with an alternative argument: that the Māori text was the key constitutional document, and therefore Māori had only ceded kawanatanga (governance over settlers) and not rangatiratanga (sovereignty). Media coverage of the protest often included analysis of the differences between the two treaty texts.

Third, TWH fractured colonial hegemonies by generating “strategic polarization,” where individuals and groups are forced to engage with — either for or against — TWH’s claims rather than ignore them. Previous moderate protest had received a limited response by Te Papa and had not created a significant public debate. A radical protest which defaced the exhibit forced prominent individuals and the wider citizenry to “choose a side” and position themselves in response to TWH’s claims of injustice.

New Zealand’s Prime Minister Christopher Luxon was asked about the treaty texts at a press conference the same day and defended his government’s rhetoric around the treaty. The two major political parties in Aotearoa, Labour and National, both made statements defending Te Papa’s right to display the English version of the Treaty of Waitangi. These political responses contrasted with those of prominent treaty experts. Carwyn Jones argued that the museum was “representing the idea that you have an English text and a Māori text that are of equal status, I don’t think they are of equal status.” Professor Margaret Mutu said that the protesters’ actions were the result of Te Papa not listening to pleas for the exhibition to be corrected.

Public reaction to the protest was mixed. The museum reported that the number of visitors identifying the exhibit as a highlight had jumped since the protest. A Facebook post by freelance facilitator and concerned citizen Joseph Nicholls highlighted the differences between the two texts and the historical context in which they were created. He argued that “We could see the ‘two versions frame’ as a smoke-screen that diverts our attention away from the harsh reality that te tiriti was outright dishonored. An excuse that enables us to avoid or soften the betrayal of the relationship that te tiriti sought.” Six days after the protest his post had been shared 2,300 times.

At the same time, a Facebook post on a story about the protest by 1 News, a national TV network, drew comments from the public such as: “All public damage is unlawful even if you don’t agree with it,” and “Did they pop in at lunchtime to vandalize this or are they on the taxpayer funded unemployment benefit?” And: “Vandalism. The dregs of society.” But like other radical activists, TWH took comfort in evidence which indicated that the unpopularity of their actions did not necessarily affect support for their cause. The polarizing nature of the protest brought the issue to public attention and forced individuals to engage with it.

An argument for radical protest

TWH’s protest at Te Papa is an exemplar of the radical approach to social change that disrupts dominant understandings of the world, shifts attention towards radical alternatives, and fractures hegemonies by forcing individuals to choose a side. On Dec. 19, the museum announced that, after having conversations with affected communities, it would renew the exhibit, specifically mentioning the impact of the protest on this decision.

In light of this, and other successes, we argue that a framework of disrupting, shifting and fracturing hegemonies provides a useful model to understand how radical protest can support social change. TWH’s action at Te Papa provides an excellent case study for a strategic orientation that is employed by other groups, such as Extinction Rebellion Aotearoa New Zealand, which has occupied coal mines, blocked coal trains, attached themselves to offshore drilling rigs, and vandalized colonial statues as part of its radical climate activism.

For social movement scholars, this model provides a framework by which to ground analysis of radical protests in the understandings of activists who are directly engaged in the work of social change. For activists, it offers a way to ensure that they are not tempted to be radical for the sake of being radical. Activists can instead strategically plan and assess their actions to move society towards progressive social change. We hope that it is as useful to others as it has been to us.