By Anna Smart
Anna participated in NZCMS’ gap year program in 2019. She is now in her fourth year of her Bachelor of Arts/Bachelor of Laws, and is involved with the Karuwhā Trust on a voluntary basis. She responded to an invitation to the Karuwhā Trust to attend and support the Williams Family 200 year Reunion on April 13 – 16 at Paihia.
Ko Te Tiriti o Waitangi tōku kawenata
I tipu ake ahau i raro i te maru o ngā pae maunga o Remutaka ki te taha o Te Awakairangi
Ko Te Ati-Awa te mana whenua
Kei Te Whanganui-a-Tara ahau e noho ana
Ko Hāhi Mihingare te whare karakia
He Pākehā ahau
Ko Anna Smart tōku ingoa.
Last Wednesday, after submitting a law essay and throwing some clothes in a bag, I got on a plane to Tāmaki Makaurau/Auckland before meeting my friend and tuakana to drive to the Bay of Islands for the Williams Family Reunion and 200th Anniversary Commemoration. I am not a Williams’ descendant myself and attended the gathering by invitation of Te Tii marae (to the Karuwhā Trust) to support the practical mahi required to host the 800 descendants attending.
Four days of laughter in the kitchen and being blown around in a tent at the Waitangi Holiday Park was accompanied by the unique and privileged opportunity to attend some of the kōrero held throughout the Williams Family Reunion. Prior to attending, I knew little of the Williams’ story, and most of what I did know was shadowed by the prevailing academic narrative that the missionaries were bad and simply agents of colonisation in Aotearoa. While there is some truth in those sentiments, and certainly not everything the missionaries did is to be celebrated, the desire to understand more of the complexity gnawed at me. After all, Henry Williams (or ‘Te Karuwhā’ as he was known by local Māori) is carved inside the wharenui at Te Tii marae holding te Paipera Tapu and wearing his signature spectacles. (1)
At Waitangi this weekend, I learnt that Henry Williams was a peacemaker and a rebel, and his friendship and advocacy with Māori so affronted the British Crown that the government at the time sent Governor George Grey to silence Henry Williams who had “become annoying”. (2)
The Williams’ whānau in those early years had a strong relationship with local hapū and in many ways advocated for the protection of Māori interests as settler colonialism expanded its reach in Aotearoa.
Throughout the kōrero I was privy to this weekend, many speakers returned to the idea of legacy and the responsibility belonging to the Williams whānau to honour such a legacy today. One speaker from the Williams whānau at the pōwhiri remarked, “It is our challenge as the descendants to commit to the Treaty in the manner desired by our ancestors collectively”. I would add that those of us who find belonging and identity in Te Hahi Mihingare or in the New Zealand Church Missionary Society, are spiritual descendants of Henry and Marianne Williams. Thus, this legacy, and therefore the responsibility to commit to Te Tiriti, belongs to us also. Similarly, Reverend Lyndon Drake speaking at St Paul’s referred to himself as “an uri o te moemoeā o Te Karuwhā”, a descendant of the dream of Henry Williams (3). Personally, I found this language helpful as it locates my life in the broader story and necessitates that I live and act in light of that story.
At a commemorative hīkoi at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds on Saturday morning, Pīhopa Te Kitohi Pikaahu and Ngāti Kawa (chairman of Te Tii marae) addressed the Williams whānau with challenge and encouragement (4). Pīhopa Te Kitohi asked the whānau, “Who will be a Henry today, in this generation?”. This challenge travelled home with me from the shores of Waitangi to my flat in Te Whangaui-a-Tara, it reverberates and calls me to respond. This challenge begs the questions in me: what kind of man was Henry ‘Te Karuwhā’ Williams that his likeness is remembered in wood inside the wharenui at Te Tii marae, that his descendants were warmly and generously received by hau kainga in Waitangi this weekend?
What does it mean to stand in the legacy of a man who advocated for his Treaty partners so well that he annoyed the colonising forces of the day?
As I washed dishes and handed out delicious hāngī over the weekend my mind returned to the early relationship between the Williams whānau and Northern Māori, perhaps a symbol of what the relationship between tangata whenua and tangata Tiriti could become in this land. At the Waitangi Treaty Grounds, the restored Busby cottage, and the Whare Runanga standing side by side can also be seen as symbolic of this Treaty relationship. Dr Alistair Reese writes in a recent article that the two whare are “…emblematic of two worlds standing in their respective autonomies yet representing the meeting of two cultures” (5). Over the weekend I have wondered if our task – as spiritual descendants of the dream of Henry Williams – is to be brave enough to walk across the grass and humbly meet one another in the liminal space between.
References:
(1) https://images.app.goo.gl/2LZFftWEqrWCES456
(2) Caroline Fitzgerald: Historical Talk at St Paul’s, Paihia, Friday 14th April.
(3) Quiet Eucharist at St Paul’s, Paihia, Friday 14th April.
(4) Williams & Waitangi at Waitangi Treaty Grounds, Saturday 15th April.
(5) https://www.odt.co.nz/opinion/treaty-challenging-—-worth-it
Oh this is stunning articulation of the happenings and stirrings of the time together! Ngā mihi nui Anna!
Quite enlightening. Beautiful kōrero.
Thank you Anna
Tena koe e hoa, Anna. Beautiful reflections on and synopsis of the weekend’s themes.
Thanks Anna. This is a thoughtful, considered, gentle and challenging reflection. In my opinion, you have summed up what can be a contested space very well. Kia ora. Michael
Beautifully written. I was training as an Anglican minister in the early 1960’s and sadly had no knowledge of this amazing heritage, although the Rev Henry Williams lectured us. Warm greetings Richard Wheeler
Loved reading your reflections Anna. Ngā mihi nui.