The bill seeks to redefine the principles of the Treaty of Waitangi â established by decades of case law and jurisprudence â and instead enshrine new principles in law.
But the bill goes deeper than that, and touches on delicate but fundamental questions of what it means to be a New Zealander.
In the heated debate since the billâs introduction, two ideas of national identity come head to head. And the implications for social cohesion and the quality of democratic debate are serious.
Equal and democratic vs bicultural nation
For the first few decades of colonial settlement, New Zealandâs identity was contained within an imperial one. The colony aspired to be a âBritain of the Southâ. It was only from the 1950s that European New Zealanders began to develop a distinct identity.
PÄkehÄ national identity was constructed around ideas of political and economic egalitarianism. These emphasised hard work and social mobility, and portrayed New Zealand as a âland of opportunityâ or a âclassless societyâ.
But these notions of the âequal and democraticâ nation excluded MÄori and perpetuated a monocultural vision of New Zealand. In fact, for MÄori, the process of colonisation was anything but an egalitarian experience.
Not only did the loss of ancestral land â through forceful confiscations and the introduction of private property laws â fuel poverty and economic inequality, but MÄori were also denied the political rights promised to them in the MÄori text of te Tiriti o Waitangi.
Grievances over cultural assimilation, historical injustices and political self-determination galvanised a growing MÄori protest movement. In the 1970s and 1980s, governments responded by creating the Waitangi Tribunal and by fostering a bicultural understanding of New Zealand national identity.
Since then, this shift towards greater biculturalism has happened on several levels: weaving MÄori culture and language into the fabric of the nation, educating the public about the Waitangi Tribunalâs role in addressing historical wrongs, and promoting the Treaty as the main symbol of Aotearoa-New Zealandness.
Recently published survey data show the bicultural understanding of national identity has taken root among younger generations: 85.4% of those aged 18 to 34 agree that âMÄori culture helps to define New Zealand in positive waysâ, compared to 63.1% of people aged 65 and over.
Similarly, the younger generation is more likely (59.4%) to accept that âwe as a nation have a responsibility to see that due settlement is offered to MÄori in compensation for past injusticesâ than the older generation (37.8%).
The threat of culture wars
The Treaty Principles Bill magnifies the differences between these two different ideas of New Zealand national identity.
Seymour says âthe Treaty must be consistent with a liberal democracy and give equal rights to each person that has to live in this countryâ. As such, the bill aligns with the âequal and democraticâ image of New Zealandness.
What is more, by implicitly framing the Treaty as a governance agreement, rather than a partnership between MÄori and the Crown, the bill challenges the very interpretation of the Treaty underpinning the bicultural vision of the nation.
New Zealand has previously experienced the kind of divisions so-called culture wars thrive on, for example in public debates about the use of te reo MÄori in public life or officially renaming the country Aotearoa.
But the Treaty Principles Bill threatens to inflame a battle over national identity, deepening those divisions and reinforcing them through overlapping generational differences.
As the sociologist James Davison has argued, American-style culture wars, which have spread to other countries, have the potential to âbreak democracyâ.
Not only do they exacerbate a sense of âus versus them,â but they also narrow political discourse. The focus shifts towards emotionally laden, symbolic disagreements, away from real social and economic issues.
Bicultural egalitarianism
At one level, avoiding a culture war escalation requires holding accountable those politicians who engage in divisive rhetoric. But it might also involve reducing tensions by emphasising shared values across the two interpretations of New Zealand identity.
One possible way to do this is to stretch the idea of egalitarianism â which is central to the image of the âequal and democraticâ nation â beyond its usual meaning of equality of opportunity.
If we expand its definition to include equality of outcome, the bicultural commitment to provide financial reparations as a means to improve the economic situation of MÄori â which continues to be marked by colonial legacies â fits the âequal and democraticâ vision.
We could also broaden egalitarianism to mean âepistemicâ equality, which stresses the importance of extending equal value to diverse ways of seeing and knowing about the world.
This could help develop a more inclusive narrative of national identity that combines notions of egalitarianism with biculturalism â manifested, for example, in bicultural governance arrangements informed by mÄtauranga MÄori, a MÄori worldview.![]()
Olli Hellmann, Associate Professor of Political Science, University of Waikato
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.