Remembering the New Zealand Wars

About 3000 people were killed across all campaigns in the New Zealand Wars (1845-1872), around 75 percent of them Māori, a heavy loss from a total Māori population of about 60,000 at the time.

Rā Maumahara, the National Day of Commemoration for the New Zealand Wars, marked every year on 28 October, is a chance to acknowledge and learn these histories as citizens,” says Dr Rowan Light, a University of Auckland historian who specialises in how we remember and memorialise wars.

In 2024, he co-curated the exhibition Atarau: Stories of the New Zealand Wars with Nigel Borell at the Auckland War Memorial Museum, which is still on display on the museum’s second floor.

The title, ‘ata’ and ‘rau,’ refers to the many histories that make up an important period that has been less recognised in public life, says Light.

“It’s hugely important that we have a day of commemoration in our national calendar.”

“It’s a chance to acknowledge and learn these histories, as citizens. A great way to observe the day would be to read some of the Waitangi Tribunal Reports and other documents relating to local hapū and iwi, accessible online.

"Another would be to visit he newly refreshed Atarau exhibition, which shares different experiences and perspectives of the wars using taonga and various objects.

The particular date of Rā Maumahara, chosen by iwi leaders, refers to the day in 1835 when ‘He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Niu Tīreni, The Declaration of Independence of the United Tribes of New Zealand’ was signed.

This declaration of Maori sovereignty was recognised by the British Parliament in 1836, six years before Te Tiriti o Waitangi.

Light says the day is also the starting point of a more considered public recognition.

“Something I’ve learnt in my research on Anzac Day, and other forms of commemoration, is that these scripts and practices of remembering don’t just exist out of thin air; they require investment and hard work by a range of individuals, groups, and institutions. He Rā Maumahara is our chance to create new connections.”

In many ways, he says, the commemoration is a challenge to Pākehā and tangata Tiriti audiences to take up and make their own.

“I’d especially love to see young New Zealanders taking up new forms of storytelling around the wars,” he says.

Light believes remembering the New Zealand Wars is fundamental to understanding our politics today.

“Māori-Crown relations can’t be understood without reference to the land confiscations and other long-term consequences of these conflicts, so these histories can help us understand a lack of trust in democratic institutions, for example.”

And he says the reverse is also true.

“When we listen to communities who were victimised by colonial violence, we can actually create trust and foster openness.”

The date itself, harking back to that declaration, is “a gentle reminder” that while these wars were complex, (Māori sometimes fought on the side of the Crown, for example) and we can’t reduce them to a single cause, they were fundamentally questions of sovereignty and a negotiation of shared power in the motu, says Light.

“Crucially, it’s not all about war and decimation. It’s also about peace-making, negotiation, and accommodation, which is something we emphasise in Atarau.

"I’m constantly struck when teaching and researching these histories by the enormous magnanimity of Māori leaders in the 19th century: diplomats and visionaries like King Tāwhiao, Wiremu Tāmihana, Henare Taratoa, Te Whiti Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi, who all sought peaceful resolutions in the face of horrific military violence committed against their communities.

“We would all do well to remember this.”