Nga wai hono i te po after delivering her first speech as Te Kuini Arikinui. (Photo: Kiingitanga)

By far the most anticipated moment during this year’s Koroneihana was the speech from Te Arikinui Kuini Nga wai hono i te po to mark the end of her mourning period.

The new Kuini restored some ideas and put others to rest, writes one close listener.

This past Friday, September 6, Kuini Nga wai hono i te po gave her first public speech as Kuini. It’s safe to say this speech will be revisited in our classrooms for a long time to come, but right now, it should be appreciated by everyone who is tired of this political moment.

Her pitch was passionate yet relaxed, here and there briefly suspended by tears, laughter, and marked by the flight of a bird that caught her eye. The listener could feel her delicately present a series of time-tested ideas from a mix of traditions — drawing on concepts both Māori and non-Māori — that she had carefully honed for her purpose.

It was a bold yet subtle speech, nuanced to a degree that puts it at risk of being underappreciated. So I’d like to unpack a few things, including some of the historical events and ideas that inform her words.

Let’s start with the practical and work backwards.

The speech unveiled two new economic initiatives: an economic summit and an iwi investment fund. Some may underplay the significance of economic policy developed by Māori. Others may see her focus on such matters as a betrayal of values, or a symbolic resignation to “corporate Māori” interests and the preferences of the government of the day.

Those interpretations would be mistaken. Instead, I heard motivation from Te Kuini to avoid the mishaps of past haste, and to end a reliance on government resources for Māori wellbeing.

Getting ready to deliver her speech. (Photo: Kiingitanga)

He kai kei aku ringa — there is food in my hands

At the start of her speech, Te Kuini personified the pathway from dark into the world of light. She had emerged from a year of mourning for her father, and her remedy for Māori advancement was couched in encouragement to let wounds turn to scars, and to turn from anguish and protest to acceptance and new economic plans, from battle to diplomacy and trade.

Her father Tūheitia’s reign was defined by kotahitanga — he aimed to bring iwi together, to remain united through good and bad times. This message was well crafted for its time, but the new Kuini had further ideas.

She made it clear there is risk in defining ourselves through opposition to things that are not permanent fixtures. Like the current government.

Her way is to go forward into the world, defining ourselves by what we are proud to inherit, embody and offer.

Such a worldview can be traced to ideas she inherited from one Māori leader above all. To understand this inheritance, let’s go back to the creation of Tūrangawaewae Marae.

Weaving in the lessons of Te Puea Hērangi

The initiative to establish a central seat of power for the Kiingitanga at Ngāruawāhia came from a woman who, though not within the line of descent that would allow her to become their monarch, was the leader of the resurrection of the Kiingitanga.

Te Puea Hērangi (1883–1952), granddaughter of the first king Tāwhiao, exemplified his words:

Ko Arekahānara tōku haona kaha.

Ko Kemureti tōku oko horoi.

Ko Ngāruawāhia tōku tūrangawaewae.

Alexandra (Pirongia township) will ever be a symbol of my strength of character.

Cambridge, a symbol of my wash bowl of sorrow.

And Ngāruawāhia, my footstool.

At Ngāruawāhia, swampland was acquired and raised up at great cost to meet her complex and evolving vision: a royal home, treasury, political forum, business operation, orphanage and hospital (this last function in particular was opposed by the government of the day).

The revitalisation of the Kiingitanga at that time was built on enterprises that Te Puea piloted and scaled, like timber milling and dairy farming. She raised money through a system of local taxation as well as cultural performances, which projected soft power and recrafted narratives of colonisation.

No matter the setbacks, like a charging river, her energies found new channels, new plans. She humbly and persistently built stronger connections with iwi on the other side of the issues of the day, like Ngāti Porou. She was willing to accept resources and advice from members of the government like Tā Āpirana Ngata and Prime Minister Gordon Coates.

But she soon learned that the pursuit of Māori prosperity through government channels and the wallets of taxpayers is treacherous.

In the 1930s, Ngata, as Minister of Native Affairs, directed taxpayer-funded resources towards Ngāti Pōrou and Waikato iwi in novel ways, including generous support for Te Puea, that began to make other politicians uncomfortable. In the end, his efforts did not meet basic probity standards, during a time of economic hardship across the country. Ngata resigned, marking the end of an illustrious career and a golden era. Sentiment towards government initiatives for Māori was poisoned for a long time.

And some lessons were not yet sufficiently embedded. In the 1980s, seeking to secure overseas investment for novel methods of Māori advancement, the then-Department of Māori Affairs and minister, Koro Wētere, were ensnared by a basic financial scam and brought down by the ensuing revelation of the department’s broader maladministration.

In recent years, the hazards of seeking Indigenous flourishing through central bureaucracies have continued to play out. The brief, then brutally extinguished, hope for the Māori Health Authority is but one example.

In her speech, Te Kuini made a point of mourning the end of the health authority, but pushing on. Peeni Henare has recently hit the same note, perhaps presaging future Labour Party policy for a Māori health solution which sits closer to consensus appetites, rather than a return of the Māori Health Authority.

The Kiingitanga is not solely the work of Tainui

Nga wai hono i te po is not one individual alone. We should watch her knowing that every step is carefully aligned with her predecessors, and guided by her advisors, who represent a cross-section of the immense stores of knowledge held within Māoridom, from different regions and different walks of life.

It was Tūheitia who expanded the tradition, as supported by his mother Te Arikinui Dame Te Atairangikaahu, of bringing in more advisors from outside Tainui to guide the Kiingitanga movement.

During his reign, particularly the later years, Tūheitia further elevated the message of kotahitanga, crafting an idea of the monarch as the embodiment of the people, a representative and constituent monarchy.

Extending the kawakawa

From her focus on the economy, it might appear that Te Kuini and her advisors collectively have decided to align to a fairly centrist or even centre-right vision.

She did, after all, announce an investment attraction summit and seemed to be asking Māori to turn the temperature down on oppositional activism and focus instead on fostering trade and good health. Taken together, it sounded market-led and decentralised, if still predicated on strong environmental stewardship and Māori autonomy.

But if we look at these initiatives in the context of history, we can see how far we’ve come and how narrowly we avoided even darker pathways.

The Kiingitanga began with a hope for parallel civil institutions. A pan-Māori movement that, in keeping with the spirit of the Treaty of Waitangi, would allow iwi and hapū to govern their own. But it couldn’t hold off the colonising invasion motivated by lust for land. At the peak of the New Zealand Wars from 1860 to 1881, the Kiingitanga became increasingly militarised and isolated.

For generations following, the trauma of war, disease and dislocation ran deep. Poverty seemed inescapable. The numbers of Kiingitangha followers dwindled, in part due to different perspectives within iwi. The rise of Te Puea was a step change, driven by economic thinking. Perhaps we’re seeing that again today in Nga wai hono i te po, when she said: “Māori Māori Māori ake nei ki te ao ohanga”, an encouraging reminder that Māori have a strong history of commerce and trade.

The economic proposals from Te Kuini seem a promising start. Many times, Māori or government have tried to establish distinctly pan-Māori venture capital funds and business incubators.

If the Kiingitanga can pull off a durable and scalable model for actively directing Māori development, funded by Māori, with a Māori heart and connections, this would be a major achievement for self-determination.

Perhaps we won’t know for many years whether these seeds will grow, and whether the ghost of government-driven Māori development can ever be banished.

Mā te huruhuru ka rere te manu — adorned with feathers, the bird will fly

Often the utu (price) of aroha (love) is maemae (suffering). Te Kuini showed an intimate understanding of this coming out of her year of mourning. Love gives way to suffering, and later knowledge. This will be as true in the years ahead as in the year of mourning behind. New beginnings are by nature difficult and prone to readjustment. The more significant the kaupapa, the more reason for friction and distress.

But the chant of the moment reflects rediscovered confidence. As the seemingly endless columns of black-clad guests entered the marae, snaking past the seated monarch as though they were her own tail, the hosts called “Ka mate ka mate, ka ora ka ora,” a part chilling and part triumphant reminder that life goes on.

Time will tell how this Kuini will navigate with such a heavy mantle, made heavier by hope-fuelled plaudits. She has a bright vision for Aotearoa, a sense of what comes after hurt and healing: vitality, positive expression, and new growth. May she have many years for the work ahead.

(Photo: Kiingitanga)

The writer of this piece has whakapapa to Ātiawa and Ngāti Whakaue, and has asked to remain anonymous for employment reasons.

E-Tangata, 2025