Finding higher wisdom amid the Parliament protests: It boils down to mana

Friday, 25 February 2022

Protesters have tried to make the Parliament grounds and surrounding streets their own, here's what it looks like from on the ground.

Sarah Sparks is a communications consultant, and works with wāhine toa across Aotearoa.

OPINION: Alternate realities have been playing out across Aotearoa as we grapple with the impact of Covid-19.

The proliferation of opinions for and against the Covid response has been ad infinitum from broadcasters to Queen’s Counsel, with politicians in-between.

Like many of us, I’ve observed as the conflict unfolds both here and overseas.

* Wellington's tangata whenua want protesters to leave

Sarah Sparks is a communications and marketing professional, and works with many wāhine toa.

* Leadership of wāhine Māori shows a way forward for Aotearoa

I’m not going to dive into details about the complexity of what’s going on. Suffice to say it’s a Rubik’s Cube of cause and effect, action and reaction – and relief and grief.

I tautauko (support) all those dedicated to serving this complex kaupapa (purpose) for our country in their chosen fields to avoid, mitigate, or remedy the actual or potential adverse effects of this pandemic.

Police form a line against protesters in the road outside Parliament on Thursday, February 24, 2022.

Read the Haumaru Report, Bernard Hickey’s analysis at The Kākā, Dr Rawiri Taonui and government reports by the Independent Advisory Groups and the Regulations Review Committee as starters to form your own view about the competing complexities involved.

We are in dynamic times, and I see the mirror of both chaos and camaraderie – however, there is higher wisdom if you choose where to look and what to value.

I often ruminate on mātauranga (wisdom) from my kaumātua, and kōrero from those I respect in my community – even the weekend homily of our local priest.

For two weeks now, news coverage of the protest at Parliament has run in red-hot tandem with reaction on social media.

Tweets speak of distress at witnessing society’s polarisation. Between individuals, families and communities. I empathise with the angst of this sentiment as I know whānau participating at the protest – one is even a former high-net-worth client.

Yet I am mana whenua, and have many friends disrupted, as I frequently work out of the nearby Justice Centre. I acknowledge the raruraru (conflict) and the mamae (sadness) underneath the demonstration, which is palpable and relatable.

Being unexpectedly out of a job, a business, a home, a significant relationship or pūtea (money) and feeling powerless due to an unforeseen change in circumstances can irrevocably alter a person’s reality. Nine years ago, this happened to me in completely different circumstances, and I appreciate how the recent mandates and policy decisions may have had a similar cataclysmic effect.

Whānau Ora Minister Peeni Henare says Omicron will “disproportionately affect Māori and Pasifika communities”, and is announcing $140 million for Pasifika and Māori responses to Omicron. (First published February 22, 2022.)

So, there’s no judgement from me about the right to freedom of expression. Standing up for what you believe on the steps of Parliament is a civic duty. I’ve been there myself handing over petitions seeking law reform.

But we must recognise the current societal split and protest action in Pōneke as a tohu (sign). What world are we creating for our mokopuna if it is not resolved?

Sustaining social cohesiveness is critical to the enduring success of our democracy. Reading the December report Sustaining Aotearoa New Zealand as a Cohesive Society, by Sir Peter Gluckman and researchers at Koi Tū, reinforced that priority.

Then I compare the Wellington occupation reality with the South Auckland one I experienced recently.

On the same day as headlines of unrest, a vastly different scenario played out at Ngā Whare Waatea Marae.

The only commonality with the capital was diverse communities (who have suffered the highest adverse effects of Covid in the country) gathered in the company of the Crown. That’s where the similarities ended.

Don’t get me wrong; Tangaroa, the wharenui at the marae has often been a space for fiery debates. Yet peace reigns even among the political adversaries, because it’s all about the kaupapa.

The clear difference here as opposed to what has unfolded in Wellington is the role of mana (authority/power/status/control/influence) and the shared commitment to values.

They are upheld by all. Respected by all. Lived by all.

Kaitiakitanga (guardianship/care of others), manaakitanga (hospitality), whakawhanaungatanga (relationships) and kotahitanga (unity).

As one rangatira so eloquently said: “Values - all the ‘tangas’ – keep us and our communities safe.”

Another emphasised agency and self-determination and the fact that there is no better rule than self-rule through self-awareness, self-management, and self-care.

“The way we conduct ourselves boils down to mana,” he said.

Wellington and Māngere. The wisdom is in the contrast, and not giving your mana away.

As a kuia taught me: “Kei a tātou ano te ara tika”. The answers are within us.