Pākehā Liberation: Rediscovering our Humanity / A.J. Hendry
Over the last few week’s we’ve been talking and reflecting on this idea of solidarity and pākehā liberation.
I know for some the idea that pākehā need to be liberated might seem a bit out the gate. I mean, what do we mean by that? Liberated? Liberated from what?
It is my belief that as a people – and yes I am talking collectively – we have lost our way. Our humanity has been diminished by our indifference to the suffering of others, by our exploitation of papatūānuku, by our focus on economic growth, and individual betterment at the expense of people and planet.
Because most of us are such engrained individualists, it is something we pākehā aren’t comfortable hearing, but the truth is, that we hold the power in this country. We are the majority, and our vote will reflect and determine the direction this country goes in. This means that in the end, what pākehā value end up reflecting what policy will or won’t be enacted, regardless on how that policy will directly impact tangata whenua or other minority groups.
Over the last year liberals and progressive’s have been wondering why the government hasn’t done more, hasn’t pushed harder, hasn’t been truly transformational. The answer is clear. Our pākehā majority don’t really want change.
Now, before you think this all lies at the feet of conservatives, think again. Pākehā liberals and progressives can be just as complicit in upholding the status quo as the often-villainized conservative boomer. Because, when the cost of transformation is your comfort and security, and the relinquishing of privileges you have become accustomed to, it suddenly becomes easy to make allowances for injustice.
We’ve seen this very recently in regards to the horrific exploitation of our whānau in motels, and the complacency and negligence that has allowed a situation where our people are being placed in motels, with little support, complex challenges, and severe harm being perpetuated as a result.
When this was challenged by the opposition through the advocacy of National MP Nicola Willis, the same pākehā liberals and conservatives who rightly condemned the Key Government for the same unacceptable treatment of our people, deployed the rhetoric of kindness, and excused the government with the tired rhetoric of “previous neglect”, and affirmations that the Prime Minister was “doing the best she could”.
I have written about this further here so I won’t go any further into this kōrero except to say that our people don’t need your kindness. They require Justice.
And that Justice is being denied to them, not simply through the failure of successive governments to adequately address these systemic issues, but through the indifference of the pākehā majority.
Why won’t this Labour Government deliver transformation to the people?
Because they will not move further than the voting majority are willing to go.
And we do not want change because change will cost us. It will require the relinquishment of certain privileges we would rather not do without. Our tax system will need to be reformed in order to more equitably share the wealth held within our nation. They way we think of housing will need to change, moving from our current individualistic system which see’s property as an individual’s asset and commodity, to a view that reflects our corporate right to housing, and communal responsibility for one another. And transformation will require that we uphold Te tiriti.
It will require that we move our conversation from what is fair and equal, to what is Just.
And Justice requires that we – pākehā – recognize that we are treaty partners. The crown, our treaty representative, signed te tiriti with tangata whenua. That means that we as pākehā have certain rights (which we have abundantly enjoyed) and also certain responsibilities (which we have largely neglected). Transformation, and justice, will require us to give back a level of power to tangata whenua. It will require us to recognize that we don’t get to have a say on everything. And that even though we exist in a democracy, that that democracy is only valid due to the signing of our constitutional document, te tiriti. Thus, without any need for democracy to be undermined, te tiriti must be honoured, and māori must be granted tino rangatiratanga. How this looks is a discussion that must occur between treaty partners, however in whatever way this is achieved, it will require pākehā to return a measure of power that we have previously held.
I get that this kōrero may be difficult, the changes necessary are uncomfortable for many of us who are pākehā, but they must be faced if we genuinely want transformation. There is no getting around the reality that to end poverty, homelessness, and inequality in Aotearoa, pākehā will need to embrace discomfort for the sake of Justice.
And so, we return to the kōrero around pākehā liberation.
What is it that we pākehā need to be liberated from?
Our own inhumanity. Our indifference to the suffering of those we have placed on the margins. Our callousness towards those we have made vulnerable.
There is no longer any excuse for ignorance in Aotearoa. The suffering of our people is well documented. We know that children in Aotearoa are dying from preventable illnesses due to poor housing conditions, with an average of 20 tamariki dying a year, and 30,000 being hospitalized unnecessarily. We know that for generations our most vulnerable rangatahi have been neglected and left to live on our streets. We know that an experience of homelessness dramatically impacts that individual’s over all health outcomes and shortens a person’s life expectancy. We absolutely know that the benefit is not enough to live on, we know that that poverty is a huge driver for mental illness, which than makes people more susceptible to addiction, and can be a driving cause for family violence.
We know these things, and yet we are content with the status quo.
We are indifferent to our whānau’s suffering.
We would rather debate the merits of colonization, and take offense at being called pākehā, than we would to make the sacrifices needed to enact Justice.
Or perhaps for the more enlightened amongst us, we prefer to retain the comfort of a largely privatized property market, and tax holes that benefit our growing business aspirations, than relinquish power to care for the needs of the ones our system has marginalized.
It is this indifference that we must be liberated from.
To see the suffering of others, to benefit from their exploitation, and to resist change that would alleviate their pain, this is inhuman.
Pākehā as a collective have the power to take the breaks off transformation in Aotearoa.
We have the power to step into our identity as tangata tiriti, to use our collective voice, and to demand the end to the needless suffering that is happening within our nation.
Solidarity with those who suffer is necessary for our joint liberation. As a people we must learn to weep, to mourn the suffering our ancestor’s have caused, to grieve the systems of oppression we have callously upheld.
Our pathway to freedom is through the rediscovery of our own humanity.
As, we allow ourselves to see what our blind pursuit of progress has done to our people, and our planet.
When we see.
When we grieve.
Then, we will be free.
A.J. Hendry is a Laidlaw College graduate, and now a Youth Development Worker and housing advocate, working in the Youth Housing and Homelessness space. He leads a service supporting rangatahi experiencing homelessness and is also a steering group member of Manaaki Rangatahi, a collective working to end youth homelessness in Aotearoa. He is also the curator and creator of When Lambs Are Silent.