This WORD session with Richard Shaw opens with an acknowledgement of the passing of King Tūheitia Pōtatau Te Wherowhero VII, whose passing had been confirmed earlier that day. This is a very significant event in Māoridom so it's only fitting that it is referenced, and it's not the last time this will happen at events during the festival. On my way to Christchurch Art Gallery for this session, I notice that all the flags outside the Justice Precinct are flying at half-mast. Moe mai ra, e te rangatira.
It's a full house at this session that brings academic and writer Richard Shaw together with Claire Mabey to discuss his most recent book, The Unsettled, but it's actually an earlier title that Mabey invites Shaw to talk about first, by way of setting the scene.
Before doing so he acknowledges Ngāi Tūāhuriri as mana whenua of the land on which the gallery (and most of Christchurch) sits. Paying attention to such things is important and a key theme of the session, as it is easily overlooked:
"You can live in this country without really paying attention to Māori."
But in answer to Mabey's introductory question he explains that this first book, The Forgotten Coast, was not supposed to be a book at all. After the death of his father in 2012 he had a lot of things that gone unsaid between them and The forgotten coast started as an attempt to write it out, to a certain extent. But for some reason Shaw's great great grandfather, an Irish immigrant named Andrew Gilhooly "demanded I see him" and he "became the emotional heart of that book".
Shaw gives a short potted biography of Gilhooly's origins in Ireland and his emigration to New Zealand in the 1870s, after which he joined the Armed Constabulary. He was involved in the building the "invasion road" to Parihaka, the invasion itself, but also part of an occupying force that remained there for 4 and half years. Gilhooly also spends some time in Port Chalmers before returning to Taranaki, eventually taking up 3 farms in the region - all of which are stolen land. Shaw finds it strange that there is nothing in the "family lore" about Gilhooly, about who he was, no family stories to speak of. Shaw subsequently went most of his life not knowing anything of his great great grandfather's exploits, or how the family farms were acquired, something he refers to as "the practises of forgetting".
That Conversation article
In 2021 Shaw wrote an article for The Conversation website about Gilhooly and the legacy of forgetting and making clear his connection to this theft of Māori land, and the ongoing impacts that we need to reckon with as a nation. He'd written a number of pieces previously and "usually three people read it, and that's it" but this one "went off, and kept going off". It got republished in the The Guardian and half a million people read it. Three years later, he says, he's "still getting emails" about it.
Shaw, it must be said, is a charming and affable communicator - who better to hear the bad news about our countries origins from? He is concerned for his audience and is interested in not making anyone feel uncomfortable... except for in the way he intends to make us feel uncomfortable, or unsettled as the title of his book suggests - "Can I swear? If I get quite emotional, can I swear?"
Having got some sense of permission, he continues, "I apologise in advance - it is purely a function of the heart rate". So put that in your back pocket as an bona fide professorial excuse (should the need arise).
The reaction to his article was, he reckons, about 10-15% negative, and in recounting some of the feedback he got, that's where things do start to get a little bit sweary. He was called all sorts of things including a "race traitor". And though he sometimes wanted to, he did not respond because the tenor and language used "didn't suggest a conversation". He did reply to one person who made an assumption, among other things, about his ability to change a car tyre and though he's not proud of it, he did correct them on that point (not any of the others though). This is extremely relatable and you can just feel the audience warming to him at this story. He's also quick to point out that what he gets in terms of vitriol is nothing compared to what Tina Ngata or any Māori person who puts their head about the parapet gets.
The rest of the responses he gets are good. He's had conversations, and sometimes even developed a friendship out of those conversations. A lot of people want to share their own family stories about their own Andrew Gilhoolys. They write to Shaw, asking him to bear witness of a sort. They write to him of forgotten things, unsettling and worrying things.
Unsettled?
Mabey asks about the title "Unsettled" and what it means. Shaw talks about where he's from. The particular "unsettled histories" of Taranaki before referencing that Te Wai Pounamu had a different experience. The Land Wars may not have happened down here but Kemp's Purchase, and the almost complete failure to adhere to the agreement to return 10% of the land for Native Reserves (the tenths) mean that the end result is essentially the same - of land stolen from Māori (this is a more accurate description that words like "acquired").
But the idea, that Pākehā live, love and die on land that has been stolen, is yeah, unsettling. He and many others are "increasingly conscious of settlement as monstrously unsettling for the people who were here first".
Creation stories
Shaw talks about "settler creation stories" and the act of remembering what actually happened is an act of "unwinding" these. This act of "telling each other to ourselves". But with all creation stories some things are left out. Some things are not told and are kept out of sight.
Shaw's own family stories are of the farming "backbone of the nation/the real New Zealand" sort. But they start with the farms, not how the farms came to be or who was there first.
The Irish Paradox
How is it that Irish immigrants who'd be the victims of land theft at home were able to come to New Zealand and take an active part in the colonial project here? As someone with both Māori and Irish ancestry this is a question that I've asked myself more than once.
Shaw gives more historical context to this question using his own family. Oliver Cromwell removed land from Irish ownership to English lords in the 17th century. Andrew Gilholly was born on confiscated land in Ireland. It had previously been inhabited by the Mahoney family who were removed from it by an Irish armed constabulary. He later moves to New Zealand and joins the a version of the same organisation that did this. When he dies in New Zealand he does so as a landowner, something that would have been impossible in Ireland. Does that go some way to explain the paradox, one wonders?
Should we judge our ancestors?
Mabey asks about the tone of the book which, she says, "is not an exercise in judgment". Was it difficult for Shaw not to apply personal, moral judgments, or was that his mode of thinking from the start?
Shaw says it wasn't. In fact, he tried really, really hard to establish that his ancestor was NOT at Parihaka "as a way of getting myself off the hook". So in the beginning he was actively trying to avoid the issue, trying to turn away from what happened (unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for him there was plenty of historical evidence that placed Gilhooly at Parihaka so he was very much on the hook). That being the case he says there was nothing to be gained from judging him. There's nothing holier than thou in Shaw's assessment of both himself and Gilhooly, "he's just some poor Irish bastard - I would have done exactly the same thing".
The more you try to raise the issues that his books do the more you'll get people telling you to "stop slagging off our ancestors". The person saying this, says Shaw, "is terrified that you're coming after their origin story".
At this point he reads from page 92 of The Unsettled, a section about what we've just discussed, the idea of the Irish Paradox.
Privilege is not the same as wealth
Shaw admits to not liking the term "white privilege" for a couple of reasons, one is that it's imported from a different (US) context and not all the associated stuff that comes with it necessarily fits or works here. The other is that the word "privilege" to most people means "wealth". They hear it and imagine someone with a huge SUV and a bach in Taupō. He says "it pisses people off if they don't have that - they'll be furious at the suggestion that they're privileged because they're not". Shaw prefers "Pākehā structural advantage" which he thinks better describes what it actually is. But if we could decouple the idea of privilege from the idea of wealth that would be good. "The money," he says, "is a distraction at a certain point".
He recount his experience of driving to visit his mother, taking State Highway 45 (which is an invasion road - it delivered the invading force to the gates of Parihaka). When he travels this road he gets to admire the beautful view. For the people from whom this land was taken it's a very different experience.
He talks about a friend, Rachel Buchanan whose whānau still holds some pieces of land in Taranaki but, because of its location, must ask permission from the Pākehā families of adjoining land (that used to belong to them as well) if they want to drive onto the land they do still own. None of this is history. It's the present.
Pākehā and pepeha
Mabey asks Shaw about the "ethics of tūrangawaewae" and Shaw says he "waxes and wanes" about it. He says it just feels wrong for him at the moment to recount a pepeha on his mum's (Gilhooly) side. He is uncomfortable with laying claim to a mountain and a river etc. Given the context of "literal claiming of vast swathes of countryside by Pākehā settlers" this makes sense. But he admits there are different opinions on this, amongst Māori too.
"I do not possess the depth of knowledge held in that word just because I have some "feels" about a piece of land that my mother grew up on."
Fair enough.
So what should Pākehā do?
At this point Shaw reads what Mabey calls a poem and what he calls "a list of words with forwards slashes", remarking "I'm no more a poet than I am an All Black". Expectations suitably lowered, it is a list of things that newly unsettled feeling Pākehā should consider called "Things to do once you know". Among them are "ask the right questions", "have the awkward conversation", "write family histories that include colonial context" and "listen... especially to Māori".
"It's not #Landback" says Shaw, "but it's certainly not nothing".
Audience questions
Questions from the audience come from both Māori and Pākehā. The first asks why there isn't a ministry for helping people to learn this, and Shaw recounts that the day before he was at a hui during which they discussed setting up some kind of institute for this purpose, though he admits that it's "not quite the right time to go look for money" which gets a big laugh.
A woman who recites a Taranaki pepeha tells Shaw that hearing him speak has been healing for her. As does her companion.
A similarly Irish-descended sociologist wonders where he stands. Where do we belong, actually? Shaw replies that we stand here [in Aotearoa] by the grace of Tangata Whenua as Tangata Tiriti. Being and identifying as Tangata Tiriti, "gives me the work to do".
What now?
Claire Mabey latches onto this idea of "ongoing work because of ongoing impact", rounding out the session with another question: What should Tangata Tiriti do in 2024 under this government? Shaw acknowledges that this is a really important question but also points out that "this government will pass". He says "some people are tremendously frightened of the past. They're tremendously frightened that the land will rise up in the night... It's our job to do the work that is required."
Then he recounts seeing Te Pāti Māori MP Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke at the airport (he's a fan).
That woman looks like the future. I would like to die in that Aotearoa New Zealand. It starts with getting the story straight - with ending your forgetting.
More Richard Shaw
- Titles by Richard Shaw in the library catalogue
- Rachel Buchanan's review of The forgotten coast The Spinoff
- An excerpt from The Unsettled The Spinoff
More WORD Christchurch
- Our WORD Christchurch 2024 coverage - Library staff report back from WORD sessions
- WORD Christchurch website
- Follow WORD Christchurch on Instagram, Facebook and X FKA Twitter
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