“This land is your land, this land is my land”*

Since I’ve arrived in New Zealand, there is one hot-button issue that keeps resurfacing in the news: the row over the 2004 Foreshore and Seabed Act and whether it should be repealed and replaced by the Marine and Coastal Area Bill.

The fundamental questions being raised here are WHO OWNS THE LAND?, WHO CAN CLAIM TO OWN THE LAND?, and WHO CAN USE THIS LAND?—the land in this particular case being the wet sand strip that stretches from the high tide water mark all the way out to the edge of New Zealand’s territorial sea (12 nautical miles offshore).

Tariana Turia and Pita Sharples, two Māori party MPs, approve the new bill. The 2004 Act was in fact the reason why Mrs Turia, feeling betrayed, quit Labour and set up the Māori Party. Māori people do agree the 2004 Foreshore and Seabed Act needs to be scrapped as it denies their customary rights to the foreshore and seabed, but they seem divided over the new bill. Hone Harawira, another Māori Party MP, thinks the its improvements are unsatisfying, and he’d rather continue to fight for his vision than give in.

This is a tricky matter because it revisits colonial history. New Zealand, like Canada and Australia, is still trying to sort out the mess inherited from the colonial era. Initially, and quite astonishingly, Māori people were recognized as exclusive owners of the land, so that every inch of the new country that was to be occupied by newcomers would have to be purchased. Their notion of communal ownership was also respected and only the Crown could buy their land before reselling it to a third party. But settlers grew impatient with the process. In 1865 the Native Land Court was established. Individual property was imposed on the Māori. Numerous other changes eased the transactions for the settlers. As a result, the Māori people lost vast tracks of territory in dubious deals.

I find today’s reparation efforts captivating because they are ambivalent. On one hand, the nation reflects on its past and tries to redress the injustices that were committed under the colonial rule.

On the other hand, some anomalies still skew the outcome, I think. Look who’s calling the shots? The government, heir to the former colonial power. It’s like having the son of a culprit judge his parent’s offence. Isn’t the conflict of interest evident? Plus, the legal framework derives entirely from England’s: as far as I know, it has not incorporated Māori tikanga (customs and values). So we’re sticking to the biased system and worldview that justified the misdeeds in the first place.

It’s quite hard to figure out what’s at stake by just reading the papers. This controversy has been ongoing for at least seven years. So the Te Papa Museum hosted a presentation by two lawyers on January 27 to clarify what the current law provides, what the proposed law would do, and what a particular agreement, signed between the Crown and the Ngati Porou tribe, looks like. Here’s the discussion’s podcast.

*Mulling over this topic, I’ve been humming this American folk song. Not that relevant to this post, I have to admit, but nice tune!

* Je ne crois pas qu’il existe de version française de cette chanson de Guthrie, un hymne aux grands espaces américains mais aussi pied de nez au principe de propriété privée. Pour une interprétation moderne, voir http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5KnYADCSms

Depuis mon arrivée en Nouvelle-Zélande, les journaux font régulièrement allusion à la polémique à propos du littoral qui agite l’opinion publique depuis plus de sept ans. Il s’agit de savoir si les tribus māori peuvent être détentrices des rivages (une zone qui s’étend de la ligne des eaux à marée haute jusqu’à 12 miles au large). Une proposition de loi pour encadrer ces revendications est en cours d’examen au parlement. Si elle est promulguée, le dispositif existant, voté en 2004, sera abrogé.

Le passage de la loi de 2004 a divisé le pays. Les tribus Māori y étaient opposées car la législation leur coupait tout recours pour faire valoir leur droit coutumier de propriété du littoral, tandis qu’une partie du grand public, adroitement alarmée par des politiciens démagogues, s’inquiétait de voir leur accès à de nombreuses plages interdit.

C’est suite à ce décret que la députée Tariana Turia, se sentant trahie, a quitté le parti travailliste. La fondation du parti māori se donnait pour but de révoquer cette législation. Aujourd’hui, Mme Turia et son collègue Pita Sharples se prononcent en faveur de la nouvelle mouture, mais Hone Harawira, leur collègue, critique cette position, qu’il assimile à une capitulation. Pour lui, les améliorations qu’apporte le Marine and Coastal Bill sont loin de combler les attentes māori. Il se déclare prêt à batailler plus longuement pour imposer sa vision.

Comme dans les autres pays postcoloniaux, la question de la propriété des terres est cruciale. Elle revisite les injustices commises par les colons… L’effort de redressement des torts est louable mais la bonne volonté n’est pas toujours de mise car l’ethnocentrisme occidental reste prégnant.

Dans ces pourparlers, le gouvernement se retrouve juge et partie. L’Etat arbitre selon son système judiciaire hérité de la puissance coloniale responsable des confiscations de terres. Le conflit d’intérêt qui me semble évident n’est pas très souvent relevé.

Le 27 janvier, le Te Papa Museum a organisé une discussion sur les enjeux de la nouvelle proposition de loi… Pour en écouter, le podcast, c’est ici.