The First Four

Before I begin, I want to mihi to Hon Shane Jones. In the House yesterday, he reminded us of the first four rangatira who first stepped into Parliament on behalf of Māori.

He did more than recite names: he called us to remember them properly, to see them as political actors who helped shape the country.

In 1868, four Māori leaders: Frederick Nene Russell, Wiremu Katene, John Patterson, and Tareha Te Moananui stepped into a Parliament not built for them.

They entered a system that had already set its course against Māori interests. Yet they stepped in anyway.

Not simply to resist, but to participate in the shaping of the country.

They were formidable agents, working to hold the space open for Māori, while navigating a world that sought to close it.

Russell, the nephew of Tamati Waka Nene, was shaped by the north’s long history of conflict and alliance building. While he was quiet in the House, when he stood everyone listened.

Katene, the first Māori to hold a ministerial office, worked to bridge worlds, navigating a settler government in full stride towards land acquisition.

Patterson, from the south, worked under the heavy weight of belonging to both Māori and settler communities, trying to stitch them together as the fabric was fraying.

Then there was Tareha Te Moananui. From the east coast. From lands I know, though he is not of my hapū. But his family and mine share a coastline: the same shapes, the same tidal rhythms, and similar stories attached and shared about it.

Tareha was already a chief of standing, a Treaty signatory at Ahuriri. He was known, respected, and accustomed to leading.

He carried that leadership into Parliament.

Unlike others, he did not sit back.

He spoke often and directly, pressing on the government’s treatment of Māori land and rights.

He did not adjust himself to suit the chamber. He spoke as a chief. Calm, clear, and determined.

His words were shaped by a world where rangatira were expected to speak plainly and with purpose, whether on the marae or on the floor of the House, and follow that speaking up with action.

What matters is that none of these four simply sat through those years.

They all worked to shape the nation. They debated. They negotiated. They carried the heavy burden of representing Māori at a time when Māori presence inside the system was being questioned and undermined.

They were not ornamental. They were not accessories. They were not easily fooled. They were nation builders: working in contested space to ensure Māori had a voice in the project of nation-making.

For those of us from the east, knowing Tareha stood there, not simply as a name but as a presence, is still striking. He stood in the House at a time when the takings were underway, when the pressure on Māori to step back was relentless. He did not.

When Shane Jones reminded us of them yesterday, it was not just an act of commemoration. It was a reminder of political rhetoric and action are linked. These four rangatira did not simply try to slow history down. They worked to shape it, knowing full well the dangers and limitations of the space they were working within.

They were formidable, working in a system not made for them, and shaping the nation anyway.