Treaty of Waitangi Submission
by Adam Rangihana
by Adam Rangihana
Petition to Reject the Treaty Principles Bill 2024
Submission of Arama Rangihana (Mokopuna of Tāmati Wāka Nene) to the Waitangi TribunalIntroduction and WhakapapaTēnā koutou e ngā Kaiwhakawā o te Rōpū Whakamana i te Tiriti. My name is Arama Rangihana, and I am a descendant (mokopuna) of Tāmati Wāka Nene, one of the rangatira who placed trust in Te Tiriti o Waitangi in 1840.
I submit this claim in his memory and on behalf of my whānau, asserting that recent and ongoing actions have breached Te Tiriti o Waitangi. These breaches undermine the partnership and protection guaranteed under Te Tiriti, and they jeopardize Aotearoa’s cultural integrity and economic future.
This submission will address several interconnected issues: the Mānuka honey trademark decision, the broader failure to protect Māori cultural and economic interests (e.g. haka, carvings, and language) in overseas markets, the emerging threat of artificial intelligence appropriating Māori knowledge, and the detrimental Treaty Principles Bill. Each of these represents a violation of Te Tiriti principles – in particular, the Article II guarantee of tino rangatiratanga (chieftainship) over taonga, and the Crown’s duty of active protection. I seek findings that these are breaches of Te Tiriti and urge recommendations to uphold the vision of partnership and protection promised to our tūpuna.
Mānuka Honey – A Taonga Under Threat and the Question of LegalityBackground: The term “Mānuka honey” refers to honey produced from the nectar of the mānuka tree (Leptospermum scoparium), indigenous to Aotearoa New Zealand. Mānuka is a Māori word deeply embedded in our language and cultural knowledge (mātauranga Māori), and the plant and its uses are regarded as a taonga (treasured resource) by Māori. Māori have long used mānuka for medicinal, practical, and spiritual purposes, and retain ancestral knowledge (mātauranga) about its unique properties. Under Article II of Te Tiriti, Māori were assured of full, exclusive, and undisturbed possession of their taonga. Accordingly, the name mānuka and the traditional knowledge associated with it should be protected.
High Court of England Decision: In 2021, the UK Intellectual Property Office rejected a bid by a New Zealand Māori trust and honey producers to trademark “Mānuka honey” in the UK. The decision – effectively upheld upon appeal being withdrawn in 2023 – means that Australian producers can continue to label their honey as “Manuka,” despite mānuka being a Māori word and culturally significant. The UK tribunal found the term “manuka honey” to be generic and descriptive, noting it had entered the English language as a common term for a type of honey, rather than indicating exclusively New Zealand origin. This ruling has been insulting to Māori and our culture, in the words of Mānuka Charitable Trust chair Pita Tipene. It ignored the role of Māori as kaitiaki (guardians) of mānuka and failed to honour mānuka as a taonga species. By allowing others to freely use the name, the decision undermines the intellectual and cultural ownership that Māori, as the original kaitiaki, have over mānuka.
Treaty Breach: While the adverse decision was made offshore, it reflects gaps in New Zealand’s own legal framework – gaps for which the Crown is responsible. Notably, the New Zealand Intellectual Property Office (IPONZ) likewise denied the trademark domestically, finding “Mānuka Honey” insufficiently distinctive under our trade mark law. In doing so, the IPONZ adjudicator acknowledged the taonga status of mānuka and its critical importance to Māori, even citing the Waitangi Tribunal’s Wai 262 report on Māori intellectual property. However, she concluded that under current law, these cultural factors “cannot override clear provisions in the Trade Marks Act”. In other words, existing intellectual property statutes do not give effect to Te Tiriti guarantees for taonga like mānuka. This reveals a systemic failure by the Crown to implement Treaty obligations in domestic law. The Waitangi Tribunal’s report on Wai 262 (Ko Aotearoa Tēnei, 2011) had recommended wide-ranging reforms to recognize and protect Māori rights in flora, fauna, and cultural works. Yet successive governments have not acted on those recommendations, leaving Māori rights “unresolved” and taonga resources unprotected in intellectual property regimes. As a result, current laws allow others to appropriate and profit from Māori taonga with impunity, as seen in the mānuka case.
In funding and supporting the trademark effort, the Crown did make an effort to assist Māori, but that effort was undermined by the Crown’s own laws and policies. The Crown’s duty under Article II is one of active protection – to ensure Māori retain authority and benefit over their taonga. By maintaining an IP framework that failed to account for Māori interests, the Crown has breached this duty. The outcome is that New Zealand’s mānuka honey industry (worth “hundreds of millions of dollars a year” and a major export) faces brand dilution and unfair competition. The decision enables overseas interests to free-ride on the reputation of mānuka honey without its cultural provenance. This not only causes economic prejudice to Māori and New Zealand producers, but also cultural harm: it divorces the product from its cultural roots, eroding the acknowledgment of Māori mātauranga and mana in relation to mānuka.
Tipene and others have called for urgent changes: “We have to look at the whole legal framework… [because] that is not keeping in step with Wai 262 on protection of flora and fauna and intellectual property”. The mānuka case exemplifies why honoring Te Tiriti requires more than symbolic support – it requires aligning Aotearoa’s laws (and international advocacy) with the Treaty promise that Māori would retain rangatiratanga over their treasures. The Crown’s failure to do so has directly contributed to this adverse outcome, thus breaching Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
Failure to Protect Māori Cultural and Economic Interests OverseasArticle II of Te Tiriti guarantees Māori not only possession of their physical resources but also their cultural heritage – including language, arts, and knowledge. The Crown’s obligation extends to safeguarding these taonga from exploitation. However, current policy settings have failed to protect Māori cultural and economic interests, especially in the international arena. The result is a pattern of unauthorized commercialization of Māori culture – haka, tāonga carvings, Māori names and words, designs, and more – by foreign entities or individuals, without Māori consent or benefit.
The Waitangi Tribunal in Wai 262 squarely addressed this problem, noting that “current laws… allow others to commercialise Māori artistic and cultural works such as haka and tā moko without iwi or hapū acknowledgement or consent.” Indeed, others are allowed to use traditional Māori knowledge without consent or acknowledgment, and there is little or no protection against derogatory or offensive uses. This situation continues today, over a decade since the Tribunal’s report, due to the Crown’s inaction on needed reforms. The lack of protection has very real impacts: “Our taonga species, our language, our knowledge… all contribute to the health and wellbeing of Māori. Our inability to control and manage these taonga holds back our development, while others benefit.” In short, the Crown’s failure to implement robust protections marginalizes Māori and enables cultural and economic exploitation by others.
Examples of Overseas Commercialization: The appropriation of the haka is a striking example. The Ka Mate haka – composed by Ngāti Toa chief Te Rauparaha – is world-famous through the All Blacks, yet historically it was used overseas in advertising, entertainment, and merchandise with no acknowledgment to its owners. Even after Ngāti Toa’s Treaty settlement resulted in the Haka Ka Mate Attribution Act 2014 (granting the iwi a right of attribution), misuse persists. In recent years: a Canadian company launched an energy drink called “Haka”; film director James Cameron talked of incorporating a “space haka” into a Hollywood blockbuster; and celebrities of Māori or Polynesian descent (such as Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and Jason Momoa) have performed haka on red carpets as entertainment – none of these uses involved the permission or oversight of the haka’s true kaitiaki. Such unauthorized uses diminish the mana and mauri of the haka, turning a taonga that embodies tribal identity and ancestral heritage into a generic spectacle or marketing gimmick. As one commentator put it, “don’t perform a haka you were never given permission to. That’s the best way to preserve its integrity.” Yet the law currently places no effective restrictions on these performances abroad, nor any requirement to seek iwi consent. This is a clear breach of the Crown’s duty to protect Māori cultural works.
Traditional Māori carvings and designs have similarly been copied or mass-produced overseas. For instance, cheap replicas of pounamu pendants, tā moko-inspired patterns, or wood carvings with Māori-style motifs are sold in tourist markets globally, often labeled as “Maori” art with no connection to any Māori artist. In Australia, the issue of fake indigenous art is instructive: it was found that up to 80% of “Aboriginal-style” souvenir products were fakes not made by Indigenous people. This flood of inauthentic product not only deprives Indigenous artists of economic opportunities, but also “weakens the value of the authentic products” and erodes consumer trust. By analogy, the failure to protect Māori designs and cultural expressions means New Zealand risks a similar outcome – where knock-offs saturate the market, undermining both the cultural integrity and market value of genuine Māori art. The Crown has thus far left it largely to private initiatives and voluntary codes to combat such practices, which is inadequate to meet Treaty obligations.
Furthermore, Māori language and names are routinely used overseas for branding without iwi approval. A recent example cited in 2018: UK-based breweries were using Māori names and imagery to sell craft beer. In the United States, attempts were even made to trademark the Hawaiian and Fijian words “Aloha” and “Bula” for commercial gain – provoking outrage in those communities. These incidents mirror what could easily happen (and has happened) to Māori words like “kia ora”, “hula” (though Hawaiian), or others being co-opted as mere exotic marketing terms. The lack of legal safeguard for indigenous words abroad causes brand damage and cultural offense, as sacred or significant terms are trivialized. Each such misuse is an affront to the dignity of the culture and a lost economic opportunity for Māori. Yet under current settings, “others can use Māori traditional knowledge and words without consent or acknowledgment”, highlighting a breach of the Treaty promise that Māori authority over taonga (including language) would be respected.
In summary, the Crown’s failure to proactively extend protection to Māori cultural IP in international forums (through trade agreements, diplomatic pressure, or supporting international legal mechanisms) constitutes an ongoing Treaty breach. The Tribunal in Wai 262 emphasized that protecting Māori intellectual property rights is as vital in overseas markets as it is domestically. For example, New Zealand could negotiate bilateral or multilateral agreements to recognize Māori cultural properties (just as Europe protects its geographic indications like Champagne or Parmesan). However, without clear mandate or legislation from the Crown, New Zealand officials have not treated this as a priority. This inaction leaves Māori taonga exposed to global misappropriation, which in turn harms not only Māori but Aotearoa’s reputation and economic interests. By failing to safeguard Māori cultural and economic interests overseas, the Crown has not upheld the partnership envisaged in Te Tiriti – a partnership wherein Māori contributions and treasures are to be protected and celebrated, not exploited.
Digital Age Cultural Theft – AI, Māori Knowledge and Data SovereigntyIn the 21st century, a new frontier of potential Treaty breach has emerged: the extraction and monetization of Māori cultural knowledge through artificial intelligence (AI) and data technologies. Whereas in the colonial period Māori endured the physical appropriation of land, taonga and artifacts, today we face the risk of digital appropriation – where Māori stories, language, imagery and data are harvested as raw material for AI systems without consent. This is a form of cultural theft no less serious than the theft of tangible treasures, and arguably even more insidious given its scale and invisibility. The Crown’s obligations under Te Tiriti (Article II in particular) must extend to protecting Māori in this digital sphere; failure to do so would repeat the mistakes of the past in a new context.
Māori Data as a Taonga: The Waitangi Tribunal has recently affirmed that data relating to Māori – especially data containing mātauranga Māori (traditional knowledge) or personal information – qualifies as a taonga under Te Tiriti. In the Wai 2522 inquiry (concerning Māori health and data, 2020–2021), the Tribunal recognized that Māori data, when infused with cultural knowledge, is a taonga protected by Article II. This means the Crown has a duty to ensure Māori retain rangatiratanga (chieftainship, control) over such data. The New Zealand courts have already begun to heed this principle: for example, the High Court in 2021 upheld the right of a Māori health provider to obtain vaccination data for Māori communities, citing the Tribunal’s view of data as part of Māori heritage. These developments establish a clear precedent – Māori must have a say in how data about them or provided by them is used, especially when it involves cultural content.
AI Exploitation of Indigenous Knowledge: Despite this, much of the data feeding AI algorithms globally is scraped without regard to indigenous rights. Indigenous peoples worldwide have raised concerns that data unique to their communities is collected and used by governments or corporations without consent. Māori are no exception: whether it’s text and recordings in te reo Māori used to train language models, or Māori art and stories being digitized for AI learning, these resources are being mined under the assumption that “if it’s online, it’s free for the taking.” This attitude perpetuates what has been called “digital colonialism”. Activists note that such unauthorised collection “co-opts indigenous knowledge and [removes] indigenous peoples from data governance”. In other words, powerful AI companies appropriate the benefits of Māori knowledge while Māori lose any control or input – a clear parallel to historical colonization processes, but in digital form.
For instance, consider a Māori repository of waiata, purākau (stories), or te reo audio recordings made available for language revitalization – if a tech company downloads this content to build a commercial language AI, and sells the service globally, who benefits? Without legal safeguards, not the Māori community who created the content. The Te Hiku Media trust has built a world-leading te reo Māori speech dataset for AI, yet experts warn that current law “is not tightly secured” to prevent others from misusing it. Such misappropriation would violate principles of Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC) – a standard under the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which the Crown has endorsed. Te Tiriti, in spirit, requires a similar standard: the Crown should ensure Māori consent is obtained before others use Māori cultural data.
Threats Posed by Unchecked AI: The cultural and economic threats here are significant. AI models could generate distorted narratives about Māori history or tikanga (protocols), “hallucinating” false information that misleads people about whakapapa or iwi traditions. This risks the integrity of Māori heritage if such AI outputs are mistaken for truth. AI can mimic artistic styles – one can imagine a scenario where an algorithm trained on Māori art produces designs that are then sold, cutting out Māori artists entirely. This deprives Māori creators of economic opportunities and divorces the art from its cultural context (much like mass-produced fake carvings do). We already see analogies: fake “Native American” jewelry and art produced cheaply have hurt Native artisans, prompting legal action. The same could happen with Māori cultural expressions via AI. Additionally, AI voice clones could appropriate the voices of Māori elders or personalities without permission, an affront to tikanga and identity. In short, the monetization of Māori culture by AI, if left unregulated, repeats past injustices on a new scale – it is a modern “land grab” of the Māori intellectual realm.
The Crown must treat this seriously as a Treaty matter. It should be noted that Māori data sovereignty movements (such as Te Mana Raraunga) have developed principles to guide the use of Māori data, emphasizing Māori control, privacy, and benefit for Māori communities. Incorporating these into law and AI governance frameworks is essential. To date, however, government action has been tentative. A non-binding AI ethics framework exists, and there is acknowledgment that “regard must be had to Te Tiriti o Waitangi, mātauranga Māori, tikanga…” in AI use, but these are high-level principles without enforcement. The absence of robust legal protections or oversight mechanisms amounts to a breach of active protection: the Crown is not adequately protecting this new class of taonga. Every data breach or exploitative AI use that involves Māori information is effectively an erosion of Māori rangatiratanga in the digital space.
By comparing physical and digital theft: historically, the removal of Māori carvings to foreign museums without consent was a grievous breach; today, the unauthorized extraction of a Māori narrative or database by AI developers is analogous. The medium has changed, but the principle under Te Tiriti remains the same – Māori are entitled to retain authority over their taonga, and to enjoy the benefits thereof. I urge the Tribunal to find that a failure to regulate AI and data use in line with Te Tiriti is a contemporary breach, and to recommend concrete measures (such as legal requirements for Māori consent and benefit-sharing for use of any Māori cultural data, and the development of Māori-led governance bodies in tech). The cost of inaction will be measured in further loss of cultural sovereignty and mana.
The Treaty Principles Bill – An Attack on Te Tiriti ProtectionsOne of the most alarming recent developments is the now-withdrawn Treaty Principles Bill, a legislative proposal introduced in 2023–2024 which sought to unilaterally redefine the principles of Te Tiriti o Waitangi in New Zealand law. Although it was a political initiative of a minor party (ACT), it had government support through the first reading, and thus represents a policy stance of the Crown during that period. This Bill fundamentally threatened to weaken or erase the protections for Māori guaranteed under Te Tiriti, and its very introduction – without Māori consent – breached multiple Treaty principles.
Overview of the Bill: The Treaty Principles Bill aimed to “clarify” or codify Te Tiriti principles, replacing the decades of jurisprudence and practice with a new set of principles defined by its drafters. In doing so, it proposed to abandon well-established Treaty principles such as partnership, active protection, and rangatiratanga, in favor of a narrow interpretation emphasizing individual “equal rights” and parliamentary supremacy. The ACT Party proponents argued the Treaty should align with a vision of a “liberal democracy [with] equal rights to each person”, rejecting the idea of Māori as partners with the Crown. In essence, the Bill advanced the old assimilationist notion of a singular national identity (“one law for all”), clashing directly with the bicultural foundation that has developed in New Zealand’s constitutional landscape.
Māori Opposition and Tribunal Findings: The reaction from Māori and allies was swift and forceful. The Bill prompted the largest ever protest on Māori rights in modern times, with thousands marching in the streets, hui of iwi leaders convened, and even a haka performed on the floor of Parliament by Māori MPs in defiance. More than 300,000 submissions – an unprecedented number – were made to the select committee, overwhelmingly opposing the Bill. A Parliamentary committee ultimately recommended scrapping the Bill, acknowledging the near-universal dissent from the public. Importantly, the Waitangi Tribunal convened an urgent inquiry (Wai 3062) into the Crown’s Treaty Principles Bill policy. The Tribunal’s interim report found that the Crown, by pursuing this Bill, breached numerous Treaty principles: “the Crown had breached the Treaty principles of partnership and reciprocity, active protection, good government, equity, redress, and the Article 2 guarantee of rangatiratanga.”. The Tribunal noted that the Crown failed to engage with Māori in formulating the Bill – a clear breach of partnership and the duty to act in good faith. It further concluded that the Bill:
- Lacked any legitimate policy justification – there was no pressing problem that necessitated redefining Treaty principles;
- Was based on flawed and disingenuous rationales, including a one-sided historical narrative that distorted Te Tiriti’s text and intent; and
- Proposed “novel” interpretations of the Treaty that were inconsistent with its true meaning and with established jurisprudence.
Threats to Cultural and Economic Identity: Had the Treaty Principles Bill proceeded, it would have gravely threatened the cultural and economic fabric of Aotearoa. Culturally, it represented an attempt to redefine New Zealand’s identity from a bicultural partnership back towards a monocultural state. Since the 1980s, we have seen a positive shift: Māori culture and language are now woven into the national identity, and a majority of younger New Zealanders recognize Māori culture as a defining positive feature of our country. The Bill’s ethos (“equal and democratic” in a way that actually marginalizes Māori) harked back to an era that excluded Māori and denied the promises of Te Tiriti. By stripping away the principles that ensure Māori a voice in governance and a protection of their rights, the Bill would have institutionalized a tyranny of the majority, placing Māori cultural interests perpetually at the mercy of Crown whim or popular prejudice. This risked not only injustice, but also social cohesion – as the Waikato University analysis noted, the Bill pitted two visions of the nation against each other, magnifying division and threatening “culture wars”.
Economically, weakening Treaty rights can have far-reaching negative effects. Much of New Zealand’s distinct economic brand – from tourism to international trade – is built on our indigenous heritage and a reputation for respecting it. Tourists come not just for scenery but to experience Māori culture; our trade negotiations increasingly acknowledge Māori interests (e.g. Māori trade chapters in free trade agreements). Undermining Māori rights through legislation would tarnish New Zealand’s global image as a nation that values its indigenous people. It could invite international criticism or even trade repercussions (for instance, incompatibility with UN Declaration commitments). Domestically, it would alienate Māori from the economic mainstream, repeating past patterns where lack of voice led to policies harmful to Māori well-being and thereby to national well-being. In short, the Bill threatened to destabilize the partnership that underpins Aotearoa’s identity and prosperity.
By advancing this Bill, the Crown (as led by the Government of the day) breached Te Tiriti in spirit and practice. Even though the Bill has been halted (a victory for the people’s voice and reason), the episode raises lasting concerns. It underscores the need for constitutional safeguards so that Te Tiriti rights cannot be eroded by simple majority legislation. It also illustrates why constant vigilance is required: the Crown’s duty is not only to protect Māori rights, but to actively resist moves – even populist or political moves – that would weaken the protection of those rights. I respectfully ask the Tribunal to state clearly that any law reform of Te Tiriti’s status or principles requires full Māori participation and consent, and that the Treaty Principles Bill process was a textbook breach of that requirement, as well as of the substantive principles of partnership and active protection.
Consequences of Inaction or Poor Legislation – Financial, Cultural, Legal, and Constitutional ImplicationsThis section ties together the threads above and emphasizes the very real costs of failing to uphold Te Tiriti. When the Crown does not act, or acts wrongly (as in the Treaty Principles Bill), the consequences are severe – not just for Māori, but for all of Aotearoa New Zealand.
- Economic Losses: Breaches of Te Tiriti that allow cultural appropriation directly translate into lost income for Māori and lost value for New Zealand. The Mānuka honey case is instructive: if “Mānuka” cannot be protected, New Zealand honey producers face competition from lower-cost foreign “Manuka” honey, which can drive down prices and undermine the premium quality association that genuine mānuka has earned. The financial stake is in the hundreds of millions of dollars annually. Likewise, unlicensed use of haka, Māori art, or designs means Māori communities and creators see no royalty or reward from the global popularity of their culture – a wealth transfer from Māori to others. International precedents show the magnitude: in Australia’s fake Aboriginal art market, an estimated 80% of products are inauthentic, representing millions of dollars not going to Indigenous artists and their communities. The Australian Federal Court recognized not only the direct sales diverted (18,000 fake pieces sold by one company alone), but also the “grave and far-reaching” harm including “direct economic loss” to Indigenous people. If the Crown fails to intervene, similar economic harm will continue to befall Māori here.
- Brand Damage and Market Distortion: New Zealand prides itself on unique cultural products (e.g. authentic Māori tourism experiences, arts, indigenous products like mānuka honey). When these are misappropriated or faked, the brand value built up over generations is damaged. The Guardian, reporting on the Birubi fake art case, noted “a weakening of the value of the authentic products” and “erosion of consumer confidence in the entire sector” due to fakes. For example, if tourists come to doubt whether a carving or pounamu they buy is real or a cheap copy, they may lose trust in the market altogether – hurting legitimate Māori businesses. Similarly, if “Manuka” honey becomes seen as a generic commodity from anywhere, New Zealand loses the hard-won market distinction for its product. This is brand dilution, a cost that can be counted in lower export premiums and lost market share. Protecting cultural IP is thus not only a moral or legal issue but smart economics – it preserves the integrity and value of Brand Aotearoa. Inaction by the Crown undermines this, to the detriment of the whole nation’s economic identity.
- Loss of Sovereignty and Rangatiratanga: Perhaps the deepest cost is a less quantifiable one – the loss of Māori sovereignty over cultural matters. Every time a haka is performed overseas as a caricature, or a Māori word is trademarked by someone else, Māori lose a measure of control over how their culture is represented and experienced globally. This erosion of rangatiratanga is corrosive to the Māori psyche and standing. It also betrays the guarantees of Te Tiriti, contributing to grievances that span generations. The Crown’s failure to protect Māori taonga amounts to ceding sovereignty not just to foreign interests, but to a worldview where indigenous rights are not respected. The Tribunal in Wai 262 warned that when others use Māori knowledge without consent, it “sidelines and marginalises Māori” and holds back Māori development. We see this clearly in the digital realm as well: if AI companies take Māori stories and data, Māori lose sovereignty in the digital domain. Such losses are constitutional in scale – they redefine who has authority, which in Te Tiriti’s vision should be a shared authority (kawanatanga alongside rangatiratanga). Poor legislation like the Treaty Principles Bill would have compounded this by trying to write Māori out of the constitution entirely. The consequence of that would have been incalculable: it could unravel the very basis of New Zealand’s legal and moral legitimacy.
- Legal and Constitutional Risks: Weakening Treaty protections (or failing to enforce them) creates legal uncertainty and conflict. We risk more litigation – Māori forced to fight case by case to defend what Te Tiriti already promises them. Courts have increasingly acknowledged Treaty principles as part of our law; undermining those (as the Bill attempted) would put the Crown on a collision course with not just Māori but with its own established legal precedents. It could also draw international legal scrutiny, given New Zealand’s international obligations to indigenous rights. Conversely, embracing robust Treaty-based protections offers a more stable constitutional path, one where Māori and the Crown move forward in partnership rather than adversarially. The cost of not doing so is a perpetuation of grievances, inquiries (such as this Tribunal claim itself), and social division – all of which carry financial costs (in litigation, settlements, lost productivity due to social issues) and intangible costs in national unity.
Conclusion – Upholding the Promise of PartnershipKo te amorangi ki mua, ko te hāpai ō ki muri. This whakataukī speaks to doing things in the proper order: the leaders (amorangi) must be upheld by those who support (hāpai ō). In 1840, rangatira like my tupuna Tāmati Wāka Nene led by example – he embraced Te Tiriti in hopes of a partnership that would protect his people and allow all of us to prosper. He famously argued for the Treaty, assuring other chiefs that partnership with the Crown, under God, would bring peace and mutual benefit. In return, he expected the Crown’s protection of Māori authority within their own sphere. Today, I appeal to that same promise. The issues raised in this submission show that the Crown’s hāpai (support) for the Māori side of the partnership has been lacking. The Crown has allowed or even enabled the diminution of Māori rights in intellectual and cultural property, failed to shield us from exploitation, and even considered rewriting the very principles of partnership to our detriment. This cannot continue.
In making this submission, I ask the Tribunal to affirm the following:
- That mānuka and other culturally significant species/words are taonga, and the Crown’s failure to protect Māori rights to them (domestically and internationally) is a breach of Te Tiriti. The Crown should actively support legal mechanisms (at home and abroad) that recognize Māori ownership or guardianship of such taonga.
- That the ongoing commercialization of Māori culture without consent (haka, art, language) stems from Crown inaction and breaches the duty of active protection. The Tribunal should recommend urgent implementation of Wai 262 measures – for example, a sui generis legal regime for Māori cultural IP, stronger oversight of overseas use of Māori icons (perhaps via trade agreements or UNESCO conventions), and resourcing Māori to enforce rights. A framework where, as in the Ka Mate Attribution Act, at least acknowledgment is mandatory, should be a bare minimum, with an eye toward giving iwi and hapū real economic rights in their cultural works.
- That Māori data and digital content are taonga, and exploiting them without Māori consent is a modern Treaty breach. The Tribunal should urge the Crown to legislate protections consistent with Māori Data Sovereignty principles, ensuring Maori have governance over how their data and stories are used in AI and tech. Provisions could include requiring informed consent and benefit-sharing for any commercial use of Māori traditional knowledge or expressions in new technologies.
- That the Treaty Principles Bill was inconsistent with Te Tiriti, and any similar future attempt would be as well. The Tribunal’s own interim findings on that matter can be reinforced: the Crown must not legislate away Māori rights or reinterpret Te Tiriti unilaterally. Any constitutional change involving the Treaty must involve co-design with Māori and uphold the tino rangatiratanga and partnership guarantees. The Crown should be reminded that Te Tiriti is a pūtāitanga (sacred covenant) at the heart of our nation; undermining it threatens the whole of Aotearoa’s stability and moral standing.
I respectfully urge the Tribunal to hold the Crown accountable for these breaches and to recommend strong, future-focused remedies – so that my tamariki (children) and mokopuna can enjoy a relationship with the Crown that honors the promise made when my tupuna, Tāmati Wāka Nene, signed Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Let this be the generation where partnership is real, protection is upheld, and the Treaty is treated not as an obstacle but as the foundation of a confident, just, and bi-cultural Aotearoa.
Nāku iti noa, nā (with utmost respect),
Arama Rangihana (Mokopuna of Tāmati Wāka Nene)
on behalf of the claimants and concerned whānau of Ngā Puhi
Sources Cited:
- Waitangi Tribunal Wai 262 report (Ko Aotearoa Tēnei) findings
- Waitangi Tribunal Wai 2522 findings on Māori data as taonga
- Waitangi Tribunal inquiry into Treaty Principles Bill (Interim Report)
- RNZ News report on UK “Mānuka honey” trademark case
- Apiarists Advocate analysis of IPONZ mānuka decision
- The Spinoff article on Māori IP and international trade
- The Guardian coverage of mānuka honey dispute and Australian use
- The Guardian coverage of fake Aboriginal art case (Birubi Art)
- Morgan Godfery in The Guardian on haka appropriation
- Tech Monitor on Māori data sovereignty and digital colonialism
- (And other sources as footnoted in text above.)
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