Witi Ihimaera - The Parihaka Woman

And do you remember Harry Atkinson, ex-premier and now in opposition? At a public meeting on 7 June, he was reported in the Taranaki Herald as taking up the same theme, clearly keeping his enmity against Maori alive. ‘He hoped,’ the newspaper told its readers, ‘if war did come, the natives would be exterminated.’

Undeterred, Horitana followed Te Whiti’s command to stay on the job. He and the ploughmen well knew the risk that they might be subject to lynch mobs. If some were shot, Tohu counselled them: ‘Gather up the earth on which the blood has spilt, and bring it to Parihaka.’

It almost came to that. ‘Someone could have been killed today,’ Horitana told Erenora one night, his face creased and drawn. ‘Why does the government remain silent? Surely it is time for them to negotiate with us over the land. Instead they allow the settlers to organise themselves and outnumber us. And today, for the first time, they arrived bearing arms. They had a flag and, when they came upon us, they took up a skirmishing line with loaded rifles at the ready. I saw murder in their eyes but as they advanced I shouted to the boys, “Keep going. Ignore them.” Their line came right up to our furrows and, when they reached where we were ploughing, the settlers stood and raised their rifles. The others behind them knelt for the reload.

‘I went over to their boss and said, as calmly as I could, “We will finish our job at five o’clock.” I could tell that he was on the knife edge. I added quietly, “We’re unarmed and you wouldn’t want to kill unarmed men, would you?” Although his men called out to him with scorn, “Don’t listen to the black bugger,” he nodded — he didn’t want blood on his hands. So we continued under their watchful and angry gaze for an hour. Then we packed up and left, but I don’t know how long before the settlers lose their heads.’

Erenora kissed him. ‘Everything will be all right,’ she said. She tried to be brave but she trembled for him.

Not long after that, Horitana went out again with the ploughmen. He was not to know that the land he had chosen to work that day belonged to Piharo. This time, the ploughing was opposed with great belligerence and stopped. All the ploughmen were beaten and tied up.

‘Well, well, well,’ Piharo smiled when his farm manager brought Horitana under guard before him, ‘how kind of you to pay me a visit.’

He ordered Horitana and the other ploughmen to be detained, pending arrest. The constabulary arrived to charge them.

‘This time the law is, indeed, on my side,’ Piharo said.

And the Akarama began.

On that evening, Erenora was at Meri’s house.

Meri’s baby had arrived. When he slithered into the arms of the midwife, who was Huhana, she cried out, ‘A son for the tribe!’ Tenderly, she blessed the babe and placed him in Meri’s arms. He wailed lustily, waving his fists in the air.

‘We will name him Kawa,’ Meri said.

Suddenly the women heard shouting outside. ‘Something’s happened,’ Erenora said. She ran to the doorway and saw other wives and girlfriends gathering to look down the road where Te Whao, one of the ploughmen, was running towards them. When he saw Erenora he yelled, ‘Horitana and the others have been arrested.’ All these nights Erenora had known that this could happen. Now, the realisation that Horitana wasn’t coming home tonight — and might not come home tomorrow night or the night after — made her double up with physical loss.

‘Look after Meri,’ she said to Huhana and Ripeka. ‘I’m going into New Plymouth to find out what is happening.’ She saddled one of the village’s fastest horses and was soon on her way.

As she approached the outskirts of the town some Pakeha, who had been celebrating the arrests, halted her. ‘Here’s one that we didn’t serve with a warrant, lads!’ one of the men laughed. He tried to grab the reins. ‘Take your hands off my stallion,’ Erenora warned him. When he didn’t obey, she commanded the horse, ‘Kei runga!’ It reared, its hooves flashing, and he and his friends scattered.

Sweating from the wild ride, she arrived at the gaol. As she forced her way through the crowd she saw that Te Whiti and a few other elders had arrived before her to remonstrate on behalf of the ploughmen. ‘Aue, Erenora,’ the prophet greeted her. ‘It is the Akarama after all. So be it.’ The hostility was palpable as she walked into the building with him. ‘What is the charge? ’ Te Whiti asked.

‘Malicious injury, forcible entry and riot,’ was the answer.

‘Can we see our men?’

Erenora’s heart was thundering as she followed Te Whiti and the elders to the compound where the prisoners were held; among them was Horitana. ‘What have they done to you?’ she moaned. His face was bruised and blackened.

Although Horitana saw her alarm, he tried to smile. ‘I was only doing my job,’ he teased. He traced the red marks on her neck, now fully healed; how he had wept when applying kawakawa oil to soothe Erenora’s pain. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ he continued, ‘for I have been cast into the pit before and do not fear the darkness.’

But Erenora had good reason to be concerned. As well as the charge for the ploughing, the old matter of the bounty on Horitana’s head might be raised.

If it was, what would happen to him?

Erenora went to the New Plymouth Resident Magistrate’s Court a second time when the forty ploughmen were charged for malicious injury to property.

I beg your pardon? Surely it was the surveyors who should be put on trial for maliciously injuring the land itself.

Meri had insisted on being in the courtroom. When Riki was charged, he gave her a wan smile. She held up Kawa so that Riki could see him. ‘Yes … our son,’ she called to him. Riki’s face shone with pride. How he wanted to hold the babe.

The charges were read out. Horitana responded with a fierce declaration. ‘My weapons were ploughshares,’ he said, ‘but yours were firearms.’

The ploughmen were returned to their cells to await sentencing.

In the interim, settlers showed their satisfaction that justice was being served. Listen to the editor of the Taranaki Herald :

If it should come to fighting then we have very little hesitation in saying the struggle will be a short one, and afterwards this district will never more receive a check to its progress from the same cause. [13] Cited in Rusden, ibid, p.271.

You’d have thought that such a remark was a signal that any further Maori ploughing would end in certain death. But Te Whiti and Tohu had nerves of steel; the Akarama might be at hand but, until the government itself gave a response about the legality of the ploughing, the protest would carry on.

‘Although your brothers are in gaol,’ Te Whiti said to the men of Parihaka, ‘take the bullock teams out. Do as your brothers have done.’

No matter that every new team was arrested, another team took their place. By 5 July ninety men were in custody — this time Te Whao was among them — and the next day 105. Within three months, 200 men had been arrested.

On one matter, how the settlers must have fumed.

Why didn’t the Maori take up arms? If they did, then there would be just cause to raise their rifles and fire on them all. Instead, all Te Whiti and Tohu’s followers did was offer themselves up for arrest! And Te Whiti, too, kept out of reach.

‘If any man molests me,’ he said, ‘I will talk with my weapon — the tongue. I will not resist the soldiers if they come, I would gladly let them crucify me.’

But the Pakeha had their day in court on 26 July with the sentencing of the first forty imprisoned ploughmen.