Witi Ihimaera - The Parihaka Woman

At his words, the followers began to weep. Abandon the village they loved? But Te Whiti was adamant. He had already begun to fashion a remarkable new fellowship in God, a Maori brotherhood of man. After all, while the beliefs taught him by Minarapa at Waikanae and Riemenschneider at Warea had been based on Christian brotherhood, the offer of true fellowship to Maori was often lacking. But did not Christ also love the Maori? If He did, better to interpret the Bible and its many promises to the Chosen People from a Maori, not Pakeha, point of view. Better to act for themselves .

‘We are the more’u,’ Te Whiti continued, ‘the survivors, and God will succour us as we continue our travels. Although we may die many times, we will rise again in the face of adversity. Let us leave Warea for another sanctuary, another haven, our own Canaan land. Therefore gather our belongings, our children and our livestock, all that we can carry.’

He led the people swiftly away, and their pilgrimage in the wilderness began.

‘Me ’aere tatou,’ he said. ‘Let us go.’

As for Horitana, he was soon in the midst of the fighting.

Like many young boys of the time, he was simply a foot soldier. His young mind scarcely comprehended the traumatic machinations of the Pakeha as they established their settler society in Aotearoa. All he knew was that, although he was only thirteen, he was needed in the fight against them.

Alas, the Maori throughout Aotearoa found themselves facing increasing odds: government forces, local militia and, propelling it all, more and more Pakeha wishing to settle in New Zealand. They also faced an arch manipulator in Governor Grey, who, with one piece of legislation, achieved two goals: punishing Maori for fighting against Pakeha; and obtaining more land for Pakeha settlement. Thus his New Zealand Settlements Act enabled him to confiscate land from Maori because they had rebelled against what he considered to be his legitimate government.

Here’s how historian Dick Scott describes what took place:

In 1863 all of Taranaki except the uninhabited hinterland was proclaimed a confiscation area. From Wanganui to the White Cliffs this involved a million acres and with that bonanza, fortune hunters, younger sons without prospects and Old World failures of all kinds need moulder no longer in the colonial dustbin to which they had been relegated . [1] Dick Scott, Ask That Mountain: The Story of Parihaka , Heinemann/Southern Cross, 1975, p. 19.

What else could Maori do except continue to defend the land?

We know from eyewitness accounts that Horitana fought with such defenders, led by Te Ua Haumene, the founder of the Pai Marire religion, at the battle of Kaitake Pa in 1864. Te Whiti and Tohu acknowledged Te Ua who, two years earlier, had been visited by the Angel Gabriel, bringing a message from God. The angel, whose Maori name was Tamarura, told Te Ua to battle the Pakeha and cast their yoke from the Maori people. Some say that Te Whiti and Tohu inherited the mantle of Te Ua as a cloak, which combined with theirs in creating Parihaka.

Let’s imagine Horitana running, with other boys — bearers — along the trenches: older warriors are firing at the government troops and calling urgently for more ammunition. The battle is not going well for the Pai Marire; the ground shakes with the sounds of exploding shells and gunfire.

Horitana is passing one warrior to supply another with bullets when the man slumps down, a bullet through his head. Horitana picks up the dead man’s tupara — his double-barrelled shotgun — loads and, sighting above the trench, fires. What are his thoughts as he watches a fresh-faced young soldier fall, his chest blossoming red?

The record shows that 420 redcoats and eighty military settlers, together with supporting bombardments and devastating artillery fire, finally triumphed over the Maori defenders. ‘Come, boy, time to go,’ one of the warriors tells Horitana. ‘You’ve earned the shotgun, bring it with you. Live to fight another day.’

Blooded in the battle, Horitana flees. On the way he stumbles over a dead warrior with a tattoo on his buttocks — a spiral rapa motif. Later it would catch the eye of one of the redcoats; sliced from the body it was made into a tobacco pouch.

Once, Horitana had been a boy. Now, before his time, he is a man. Fighting a desperate rearguard action through the enemy lines, he goes on to further guerrilla action against the Pakeha soldiers at Te Morere, Nukumaru and Kakaramea.

You know, a lot of people are unaware that at one time there were more British troops in New Zealand than in any other country in the world; that’s how great the odds were against Maori.

Michael King offers some details:

In 1863 Grey used the opportunity provided by the second outbreak of fighting in Taranaki to prise further troops from the British Government. By early 1864 he had as many as 20,000 men at his disposal — imperial troops, sailors, marines, two units of regular colonial troops (the Colonial Defence Force and the Forest Rangers), Auckland and Waikato militia (the latter to be rewarded with confiscated land after the fighting), some Waikato hapu loyal to the Crown and a larger number of Maori from Te Arawa. [2] Michael King, The Penguin History of New Zealand , Penguin, 2003, p. 213. The figure of 3,700 field forces in Te Karopotinga o Taranaki also comes from King, p. 216.

The Taranaki Military Settlers were also formed, in 1865. Many were recruited from Australia, attracted by the prospect that they would be settled on the land, once they had gained it.

Under the command of Lieutenant-General Duncan Cameron, an imperial field force of some 3,700 men descended in what we Maori call the murderous Te Karopotinga o Taranaki, the slaughtering of the people and the encirclement of Taranaki. Yes, 3,700.

Imagine Horitana again, now a fully fledged warrior. War had made a hardened killer of him. Whenever he pressed the trigger of the tupara, he no longer wondered about the soldier or settler caught in his sights.

As for the people of Warea, they were on the run, trusting completely in their two prophet leaders.

‘You want a description of Te Whiti?

‘Aue! Well, he was the son of Honi Kaakahi, a chief of Te Ati Awa. His mother, Rangikawa, also came from a rangatira line and was the daughter of a Taranaki chief. His height was similar to Horitana’s as an adult, so that must mean he was around 5' 10''. His forehead was narrow and his face was marked by piercing eyes. He had a strong build and his movements were always dynamic, agile and spirited. I can remember that one of his fingers was missing; I think he had an accident at the mill at Warea. In all his life he was humble and gentle and, you know, he lived as part of the people and not apart from them. His wife was Hikurangi, a lovely woman. Actually, it was her sister, Wairangi, who was the wife of Tohu Kaakahi. Although he was Te Whiti’s uncle, Tohu was only three years older than him.

‘Our patriarchs likened our situation to that of the descendants of Joseph, the same Hohepa of the Old Testament who was sold into Egypt by his brethren. In some respects Te Whiti and Tohu saw in Joseph’s story a parallel with what the Treaty of Waitangi had done: some “brothers” signed it and others, like Taranaki, did not. They were thus enslaved by Pharaoh without their consent but, just as Hohepa and his descendants had done, the two prophets and their followers kept strongly to the belief that, one day, would come their deliverance from the Pakeha.’

Te Whiti and Tohu took the more’u along the coast.