Kiingi Tuheitia and his wife Te Makau Ariki Atawhai, taken before this year’s Koroneihana. (Photo: Kiingitanga)

The timing of Kiingi Tuheitia’s death is particularly devastating for both his whānau and te ao Māori, writes Jamie Tahana.

The death of Kiingi Tuheitia this week was sad enough. That it comes at this moment, in this of all years, at this politically charged time, makes it a particularly wretched blow.

The head of the Kiingitanga died in Waikato Hospital in the early hours of Friday, shortly after receiving triple bypass heart surgery. He was surrounded by his whānau, with his wife Te Makau Ariki Atawhai by his side. It came just days after his 18th koroneihana celebrations, where he once again urged tangata whenua and tangata Tiriti to unite in kotahitanga.

Tributes have flooded in from around the world, remembering the “kind” and “humble” man who was always gentle, always smiling, who had “left an indelible mark on the nation.”

Today, Tuheitia lies on the mahau at Tuurangawaewae. His korowai-draped casket nestled by a whānau pani stricken by grief, draped in black with wreaths of kawakawa. His week-long tangi will be attended by thousands from iwi and hapū around the country.

His people, Waikato-Tainui, are in mourning too. But they’ve snapped into action in the way marae always do. Within hours of the announcement in the small hours of Friday morning, the marquees were already up. Behind the scenes, discussions will have started. The King’s advisory council, Tekau-maa-rua, is pondering the next move for the Kiingitanga, one of the country’s most enduring institutions.

Already, thousands have flooded into Ngāruawāhia, as ope have taken it in turns to head to the marae where the two rivers meet. They’ve lined up for hours, waiting to be called through the waharoa and along the fern-fringed path, on to the great ātea at Tuurangawaewae. We’ve already had soaring whaikōrero and devastating laments, and there’s still several days to go.

The timing of Kiingi Tuheitia’s death is particularly devastating. He was only 69, still too young for his whānau to lose a brother, husband, father and koro.

But also because — during the past months of turmoil, with Te Tiriti o Waitangi in the crosshairs and the government provoking a reaction from Māori not seen in decades — Tuheitia, already a rangatira with a standing matched by few, had really found a stride.

His speech from earlier this year rang around the nation. “The best protest right now is to be Māori,” he said. His words, seared into minds as motivation, have been sampled in hip hop tracks, with the video going viral on Māori TikTok.

When Tuheitia visited the athletes village in Paris only a month ago, he received a rapturous welcome from Olympians who’d embraced te ao Māori in a way that stood in confronting contrast to the tenor of the discourse at home.

His koroneihana address just last week received coverage rarely seen outside of Māori media. That momentum was continuing to build, with Tuheitia one of those at the head of the waka.

But then, in a striking reminder of the fleeting nature of life, it stopped.

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Kiingi Tuheitia Pootatau Te Wherowhero VII, 51, at his coronation ceremony at Tuurangawaewae on August 21, 2006, during the funeral of his mother, Te Arikinui Dame Te Atairangikaahu, who died on August 15. (Photo: PETER DRURY/AFP via Getty Images)

Tuheitia Paki was born in 1955, and grew up around Waahi Pā in Huntly. He was educated in Hamilton and Auckland, receiving both a Māori and Pākehā schooling. When he was 11, his koro, Korokii, died and his mother, Te Atairangikaahu, was made Queen of the Kiingitanga movement.

Despite this, though, his existence continued to be humble and low-key.

He was a farmhand and worked at the meatworks. He joined the army for a couple of years, before taking up work in construction, helping to build the domineering Huntly Power Station.

In the 2000s, he was a truck driver in South Auckland, taking lorries up and down the Southern Motorway, beating the same path the Crown took to take the land his tūpuna fought to defend, never expecting to be the figurehead of one of the country’s leading movements.

One hundred years before Tuheitia Paki was born at Waahi Pā — as it became increasingly clear that the Crown wasn’t upholding its side of Te Tiriti — rangatira from several (but not all) iwi discussed ways to unify Māori to better resist colonisation.

What emerged was a kind of Māori kingship designed to go toe-to-toe with the Crown. In 1856, at a hui convened by Iwikau Te Heuheu at Pūkawa, on the shores of Lake Taupō, those rangatira chose Potatau Te Wherowhero of Ngāti Mahuta as King.

The Crown, of course, never warmed to the idea, let alone the reality, of a Māori king. It instantly considered the Kiingitanga treasonous, and set about trying to destroy it.

In July 1863, all Māori living between Auckland and Waikato were told to either take an oath of allegiance to Queen Victoria or flee south of the Mangatawhiri River, or face eviction at gunpoint.

Within 10 months, hundreds were dead and the second monarch, Potatau’s son Tawhiao, had been forced into the isolated hill country of Ngāti Maniapoto, the region now known as the King Country. The Crown then helped itself to thousands of hectares in Waikato.

From that point on, through six more monarchs, the preservation of mana motuhake has been the central ethos of the Kiingitanga, making it one of the few 19th-century movements to endure, despite land loss, war, and government efforts to stymie it.

Many of the words and actions from Tuurangawaewae have been political, with the Kiingitanga central to movements throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, such as when the 1975 land march passed through Ngāruawāhia, or when Te Atairangikaahu endorsed the hīkoi to Waitangi in 1984.

Despite Tuheitia’s reserved nature, he proved no different. He entered the role with a certain shyness, always softly spoken, always cracking a smile. He was a gentle presence, but also a formidable defender of mana Māori motuhake, spending 18 years on a gruelling schedule in all manner of kaupapa.

That stepped up to a whole different level late last year, when details of the coalition government’s policies for Māori were unveiled, especially around the Act party’s proposal to redefine the Treaty principles.

The hui-aa-motu in Tuurangawaewae in January drew more than 10,000 people from across the motu. (Photo: Kiingitanga)

With a level of anger not seen since the Foreshore and Seabed hīkoi in 2004, Tuheitia issued a rare proclamation to call a hui-aa-motu. In January, bus after bus rolled into Ngāruawāhia, as more than 10,000 people heeded the call. Some of them were on horseback, tino rangatiratanga flags hoisted above as they trotted up River Road. In the sweltering heat, they swarmed in a proud expression of kotahitanga to hear his message.

Be who we are, live our values, speak our reo, care for our mokopuna, our awa, our maunga. Just be Māori. Māori all day, every day. We are here, we are strong . . .

The hui was by no means the only display of Māori leadership and kotahitanga over the past year, but it was one of the most formidable, setting the scene for much of the year that followed. It was also a clear example of the mana and influence that the Kiingitanga still holds after 160 years, proving once again that it’s one of the country’s most influential institutions.

But much of that could also be put down to the mana of the man himself. Ngāti Whatua Ōrākei, as well as Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Porou and Ngāi Tahu, all sent significant delegations to Tuurangawaewae, showing the depth of feeling in te ao Māori about the government’s proposals. It also showed Tuheitia’s ability to bring iwi together, whether he’s seen as someone’s king or not.

That continued through his attendance at many other hui held as Māori rallied and resisted, and again only a week ago at the Koroneihana celebrations, where he again urged kotahitanga in what would turn out to be his final speech.

Tuheitia had long been afflicted by poor health, battling both cancer and diabetes. He underwent weight-loss surgery to manage his diabetes, and, in 2016, he had a liver transplant (the live donor was his son Korotangi). Then, last month, during his trip to France for the Olympic Games, he suffered a heart attack.

Shortly before he went to hospital for his heart surgery on Tuesday, the Kiingitanga shared a video of him in the whare Māhinārangi, during a moment of karakia.

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Te Arikinui Te Atairangikaahu’s tangi in August 2006 was attended by more than 100,000 people over five days. (Photo by Peter Drury-Pool/Getty Images)

Te Arikinui Te Atairangikaahu’s tangi in 2006 was a mammoth affair attended by more than 100,000 people over five days. About half-a-million people watched it on television. On the final day, she was paddled by waka down the short stretch of the Waikato River to the sacred Taupiri maunga, where all the Kiingitanga leaders lie. On Friday, Tuheitia will follow that same journey his mother took, finally lying beside her.

But first, it’s the nation’s turn to say goodbye. The weekend started with his whānau pani spending time with him. Then, yesterday, his people of Waikato-Tainui came to grieve. From today, the gates will open for people from across the land. There will be dignitaries from across the Pacific and around the world.

There will be two pōwhiri every day, one at 8am and another at 2pm. Some iwi have already said when they will be arriving, including Ngāpuhi and Mataatua on Monday, and Te Tairāwhiti whānui and Te Whānau a Apanui on Tuesday morning. The oratory will be soaring, the laments heart-wrenching, the haka spine-chilling. Then, on Thursday, Tuheitia will be taken to lie on Taupiri.

While all this happens, the council, Tekau-maa-rua, will discuss the next steps, including who a successor may be. Tuheitia was the first Ariki to appoint members from outside Tainui waka to the council. He also had a spiritual council, Te Kaahui Wairua, made up of representatives from the different churches, who may also weigh in on the succession question. Rangatira from around the country may offer up their suggestions as well.

Surprises can happen, and often do. The Kiingitanga is not hereditary, so it’s not necessarily the case that one of Tuheitia’s children will be named to succeed him. But there is a pretty strong precedent in that all of the previous seven monarchs have been the child of the one before.

But Ngāti Kahungunu’s Bayden Barber was right to say that whoever is appointed on Friday will have to hit the ground running. Once Tuheitia is rightfully mourned, there’s still tino rangatiratanga to pursue. Because, while te ao Māori grieves, the Treaty principles bill is still being drafted. And while iwi and hapū pay their respects, Takutai Moana (the Foreshore and Seabed Act) is still being rewritten.

Yet while one of the key advocates for Te Tiriti and mana motuhake has passed, the legacy of the man and the movement he led for 18 years will still endure. It’s survived all that has happened since 1860 and, if Tuheitia’s reign has been anything to go by, it’s got plenty more to go yet. His name now joins those seven other tūpuna who continue to guide the Kiingitanga and its followers.

After all, some of Tuhetia’s final words from this year’s Koroneihana will continue to resound.

We’ve come a long way as a country, and we can go even further. Let’s not give up now. Te Tiriti o Waitangi is between Māori and the Crown — mana to mana. The Treaty provides a foundation for us all to work together. Let’s not change it; that would harm us.

“While one of the key advocates for Te Tiriti and mana motuhake has passed, the legacy of the man and the movement he led for 18 years will still endure.” (Photo: Waikato Tainui)

Jamie Tahana (Ngāti Pikiao/Ngāti Makino/Tapuika) is a journalist and broadcaster who has worked in both Aotearoa and the Pacific. He grew up between his Dutch mother in the Hutt, Wellington, and his Te Arawa dad in Rotorua, going on to qualify with a master’s degree at Te Herenga Waka – Victoria University. He was Māori News Editor at RNZ until May 2023, and is now working in London

E-Tangata, 2024