Kaitiakitanga: A Proclamation for Indigenous Active Agency in Climate Change in Aotearoa,New Zealand

INTRODUCTION

Growing up I remember hearing stories about how our lands have changed, about how not long ago there were pristine golden sand dunes across the harbor, but all I’ve seen in my lifetime were pine trees, farmlands, and sedimentation of our harbor. I’ve read about the extensive kauri forests that clothed our maunga (mountains) and how the harbor was teeming with life. The harbor used to be so deep that logging ships would dock. However, what I see of my lands and harbor is a different picture to what my ancestors and even my mother’s generation saw. This place that I talk about is Owhata, a low-lying sandspit situated within the Herekino harbor, characterized by its intricate historical backdrop. Traditionally, the whole of Owhata was designated as a māra kai (food garden). However, during the late 1800s local hapū (autonomous subtribal groupings) and whanau (extended families) were forced down to Owhata from their ancestral settlements on the surrounding mountains, owing to colonial processes specifically crown purchases of Māori land. Since then, Owhata has undergone a significant transformation. Over time, anthropogenic activities have markedly altered the landscape, with notable instances, including the extensive deforestation of kauri stands during the early 1900s, attributed to the establishment of a timber mill at Owhata. Subsequent modifications, such as the introduction of pine trees along the sand dunes in the 1980s, have contributed to erosion along the western shores. The imminent threat of sea level rise (SLR) presents a multifaceted challenge, encompassing potential impacts on human settlements, ecological systems, and cultural heritage, with the prospect of exacerbating existing coastal erosion vulnerabilities.

Owhata is used as a case study in this research, and the primary focus of this investigation is to benefit the descendants of this land providing useful information about coastal inundation owing to SLR and how to respond to these impacts. I inhabit a unique positionality, simultaneously insider and outsider. This perspective allows for a comprehensive understanding of the cultural, social, and environmental complexities inherent to the research, enriching its insights with nuanced perspectives.

It is vital to the authors to position this research under a Kaupapa Māori methodology in that the validity of Māori culture, knowledge, and practices are assumed and actively resist the colonial injustice of the research space. ¹ While utilizing the tools and technologies of Western science, employing a decolonial approach centers the perspectives and aspirations of the Māori community this project engaged with. Moreover, the authors of this article are both descendants of the Northland Māori tribal nations with the lead researcher being an active member of the community in which this research was conducted. By acknowledging this positionality, we embody the “by Māori, for Māori” ethic of Kaupapa Māori research.

To adequately grasp the nuances of our research, it is imperative to provide contextual insights into the colonial history of Aotearoa/New Zealand. Relative to other Polynesian nations, Aotearoa/New Zealand has a recent colonial past, owing, in part, to its geographic isolation. Disregarding Able Tasmin’s visit in 1642, the initial contact period was around the late 18th century, resulting in an influx of settler colonials. ² This period, validated by the Doctrine of Discovery, enforced European superiority over Indigenous peoples, legitimizing the dispossession, subjugation, and erasure of non-European races, cultures, and religions. ³ Settler colonial worldviews of land differed heavily from Māori worldviews, resulting in conflicts such as the Aotearoa/New Zealand land wars ⁴ ; changes to environmental systems like the widening of rivers to mimic those in England ⁵ ; and land confiscations ⁶ to highlight a few. Consequently, Māori endured immense loss, witnessing the expropriation of 95% of their ancestral lands. Colonization in Aotearoa/New Zealand has caused a profound transformation in power dynamics, eradicating the authority that Māori held over their lands, peoples, and culture. In stark contrast, British settlers flourished, amassing wealth, privilege, and prosperity amid the colonial enterprise. ⁷ These historical events have resulted in Māori being disproportionately impacted by adversities such as climate change.

Māori communities are disproportionately affected by SLR as impacts to waterways and food sources threaten Māori rights to rangatiratanga (self-determination/sovereignty) and cultural practices such as kaitiakitanga (natural resource management). ⁸ Coastal marae are on the front line of this; it is predicted that with 2 m of SLR, 30 marae nationwide will experience extreme coastal inundation. ⁹ However, many more are predicted to be affected by other impacts such as lack of marae access, power outages, and coastal erosion. ¹⁰ Despite this, Māori continue to be excluded from decision making relevant to SLR responses, which reflects the continued environmental injustice Māori experience under New Zealand’s colonial system of governance. ¹¹

Marae serve as dynamic centers within both Māori and broader communities, embodying versatile spaces that adapt to diverse occasions while upholding tikanga (customary practices). They can be physical spaces and buildings that facilitate connections to ancestral lineage (past, present, and future) and the spiritual realm, constituting integral elements of Māori identity. Marae epitomizes the core values of Te Ao Māori (Māori worldview), fostering whanaungatanga (kinship) and whakapapa (genealogy), while also serving as hubs for traditional knowledge exchange (wānanga) and communal gatherings (hui). ¹² Furthermore, marae assume pivotal roles during times of adversity, such as natural disasters, transforming into vital community centers ¹³ (Smith et al., 2016), thus highlighting the importance of these places for Indigenous people, communities, and non-Māori.

Kaitiakitanga that can be used as a decolonial approach to environmental and natural resource management has been on the political radar since the term’s inclusion in New Zealand’s Resource Management Act (1991). While we cannot speak to the intentions of the Crown at the time, many critiqued the failed implementation of kaitiakitanga as a resource management strategy, which led to wider negative impacts for Māori communities. Namely, kaitiakitanga found itself to be inaccurately defined as “guardianship,” which continued to privilege Western philosophies of human superiority over human–environmental relationships. ¹⁴ A notable gap exists between consulting and sharing power with Māori in resource governance owing to differing philosophies, economic hardships, and power reluctance. ¹⁵ Inclusion of kaitiakitanga in climate change initiatives is by no means novel. For decades Māori have been challenging colonization through kaitiakitanga since its inclusion in the Resource Management Act (1991). However, to achieve this we must first go beyond inclusion of kaitiakitanga as a value or definition in policy and focus on implementation.

Māori continue to advocate for their self-determination in climate change spaces with Treaty Claims (i.e., WAI 2607) holding the New Zealand Government accountable to its failings to implement adequate policies to address the threats posed to Māori by global climate change. The consequences of this exclusion echo through all levels of governance, leaving Māori iwi (tribal nations); hapū (autonomous subtribal groupings); and whānau (extended families) with a restricted ability to respond to climate change. This ability is derived from the knowledge systems brought by our Polynesian ancestors that continue to evolve to maintain synchrony with the coastscapes of Aotearoa New Zealand ¹⁶ and can be implemented to guide indigenous ways of climate change responses. However, legislative barriers actively prevent the implementation of this knowledge through the Native Schools Act (1867); Tohunga Suppression Act (1907); Water and Soil Conservation Act (1967); and the Public Works Act (1981), which saw to the confiscation of Māori land, customs, resources, and discredited Māori knowledge. In addition to this the Treaty of Waitangi Settlements Act 1992 prohibits iwi from making claims to privately owned land creating significant barriers to their efforts in reclaiming traditional lands. This limitation is particularly pertinent to Owhata, where their ancestral lands are currently held under private ownership.

Direct links between climate change and colonization can be and have been made by Indigenous scholars worldwide. While it is recognized that Māori, alongside all other Indigenous peoples, will be disproportionately impacted by climate change, ¹⁷ colonial structures, such as the Department of Conservation and the New Zealand Climate Commission, continue to keep our communities at risk owing to anthropogenic climate change, rather than acknowledging the exploitative, carbon intensive industries that are forced upon us by colonialism. ¹⁸ In other words, the disconnect Indigenous peoples experience from the environment, and thus from their cultural environmental practices, is created by colonization and is the cause of Indigenous environmental injustice in the face of climate change.^19,20 Consequently, there is great need for a decolonial approach to climate change responses. Māori practices have great potential to improve climate change responses, yet their value continues to be ignored in favor of colonial policies and governing systems. ²¹ While engagement in mātauranga (Māori knowledge and ways of knowing) is gaining momentum in Aotearoa, New Zealand research institutions, there is still a tendency to conduct research without genuine engagement with Māori. However, when appropriately engaged, mātauranga and Māori practices provide innovative insights to natural resource management ²² and climate change responses.

This article explores indigeneity perspectives from Aotearoa, New Zealand to recenter Māori culture and experiences in relation to SLR. For centuries, Māori have lived in balance with the natural world guided by the practices handed down by our ancestors. ²³ Māori management of natural resources is known as kaitiakitanga, which encompasses environmental conservation and guardianship; along with social regulation; governing practices; and an ontology known as whakapapa that connect Māori to the life force of every being in the natural world. ²⁴ The practical implementation of kaitiakitanga (or kaitiakitanga practices) is unique to every hapū and is an obligation that lies in the sovereignty of each group. ²⁵ Labels like “small,” “vulnerable,” “isolated,” “geographically challenged,” and “poor” are commonly used for Pacific Island communities, which reflects a passive vulnerability narrative. However, it is crucial to realize that external perceptions underestimate their self-management capabilities. ²⁶ We conceptualize kaitiakitanga as the stark opposite to the colonial narrative of passive vulnerability, instead acknowledging the potential of Māori environmental practices when autonomous from the colonial state.

Using our research as a case study, we demonstrate how kaitiakitanga practices are an example of active agency in response to climate change and an example of the continued resilience of Indigenous communities in the face of colonization. Active agency describes communities that are proactive rather than reactive in their climate change responses. Indigenous active agency also necessitates full autonomy and self-determination, which are important in the context of colonial climate strategies.^27,28 This research was developed in response to the needs of a local Māori community on the west coast of Northland, New Zealand. By centering local Māori experiences and worldviews, we critically evaluate the potential responses and preventative actions of the community to SLR. We propose kaitiakitanga as a paradigm for Māori active agency to diversify and reclaim narratives around Indigenous climate change responses.

METHODS

Study site

The study site, known as Owhata, is a small low-lying sandspit approximately 13 ha, located 26 km south of Kaitaia on the west coast of the upper North Island. A large dune system is situated at the northern end, and a protruding spur occurs to the south (see Figs. 1 and 2). Deforested mountain ranges surround the area with pockets of pine trees and native bush directly north of the spit. The harbor on the eastern side of the spit is dominated by mudflats and mangroves. Eleven dwellings (6 permanent and 5 semipermanent) are located on the site, including a marae which holds cultural and historical significance to the local Māori community (Fig. 3).

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FIG. 1.

(a) Map of the upper North Island of New Zealand. (b) Zoomed-in map of Owhata showing the Owhata sandspit.

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FIG. 2.

Map of Owhata showing the Herekino Harbor, Owhata Sandspit, sand dunes, farmland, and pine forests.

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FIG. 3.

Close-up of Owhata sandspit with the areas of interest outlined and numbered (1 marae, 2–7 permanent dwellings [people living there all year around or seasonally and whanau housing], 8–12 semipermanent/unoccupied [abandoned infrastructure, movable structures, e.g., caravans and infrequent occupancy]).

RESULTS

The results have shown that under all SSP scenarios from 2021 to 2060 the percentage of inundation is relatively low with inundation projections between 3% and 6% (see Fig. 4a–c, Fig. 5a–c, Fig. 6a–c, Fig. 7a–c, Fig. 8a–c and 9a–c). Road access to the site becomes inundated in 2030 for SSP5–8.5 (Fig. 8a). Under all projected scenarios except SSP1–1.9 dwelling 3 becomes inundated in 2060. In contrast, high elevation dwellings 3.95 m and above (see Table 1) remain untouched from SLR under all SSP scenarios (see Fig. 4a–f, Fig. 5a–f, Fig. 6a–f, Fig. 7a–f, Fig. 8a–f and 9a–f). From 2090 to 2150, all SSP scenarios diverged with conservative projections SSP1–1.9 and SSP1–2.6 ranging between 9% and 17% total inundation and an increase of water level between 2.25 m and 2.51 m (Tables 1 and 2). It is during these years where we start to observe inundation of infrastructure, specifically dwellings 1, 2, 3, 6, and 8. However, higher SSP scenarios maximum water levels reach 3.87 m by 2150 with an inundation percent of 59%. Under these higher projections most of the dwellings are inundated by 2120 (dwellings 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, and 9) and by 2150 dwellings 12 and 10 being inundated for the first time.

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FIG. 4.

Coastal inundation under the SSP1–1.9 SLR scenario with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f). SLR, sea level rise; SSP, shared socioeconomic pathway; VLM, vertical land Movement.

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FIG. 5.

Coastal inundation under the SSP1–2.6 SLR scenario with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f).

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FIG. 6.

Coastal inundation under the SSP2–4.5 SLR with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f).

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FIG. 7.

Coastal inundation under the SSP3–7.0 SLR scenario with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f).

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FIG. 8.

Coastal inundation under the SSP5–8.5 SLR scenario with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f).

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FIG. 9.

Coastal inundation under the SSP5–8.5 p83 SLR scenario with VLM (−1.33 mm/year) for Owhata from 2021 (a) to 2150 (f).

DISCUSSION

In the context of Aotearoa, the impacts of colonization and capitalism result in Indigenous communities being disproportionately affected by SLR, coastal erosion, storm surges, and extreme weather events.^32,33 Despite this Māori have had and will continue to have a long intergenerational relationship with the environment and consequently climate change; this environmental ethic is known as kaitiakitanga. We use Owhata and Owhata marae as a case study to demonstrate how kaitiakitanga can be used as a framework through which Māori coastal communities can respond to SLR.

Climate change responses for marae need to be specific and contextual to individual marae. Without this recognition of marae autonomy, climate justice cannot be achieved as each marae has different needs, experiences, histories, and impacts of climate change. The current location of the Owhata community, its marae, and other infrastructures leaves them highly exposed to the risks and hazards associated with SLR and is a prime example of climate injustice for Indigenous peoples, which is why the aspirations for the hapū of Owhata are to ultimately relocate to the surrounding mountains where their ancestors once lived so that they can fully enact kaitiakitanga over all of their ancestral lands. However, the surrounding mountainous areas are privately owned farms, restricting the hapū of Owhata to reoccupy these lands.

Conversations of SLR in Aotearoa, New Zealand remain dominated by colonial perspectives, in which concepts of climate change place humans in conflict with a dynamic environment. For instance, discussions around the impacts of climate often discuss the vulnerability of a community, centering concepts of risk and exposure to hazards and capacity to respond. These concepts only show part of the story and can act to discredit the active agency these communities have. For example, in the Pacific, the narrative of vulnerability typically denotes disempowerment, framing Indigenous communities as passive agents in the wake of climate change. ³⁴

Owhata’s situation fulfills the criteria of what vulnerability is defined as, where for generations, the community has not been in control of their traditional lands nor their environmental resources, resulting in an increased exposure to the risks of SLR. This research in recentering the communities reaffirm observations and knowledges that the community already knows.

Using SSP projections, our results reflect this vulnerability discourse of a community facing devastating flooding and land loss in the face of SLR. From 2060, inundation begins to occur in all scenarios (except SSP1–1.9) for dwellings 4 and 12 and road access to the site. By 2150, all scenarios predict inundation of dwellings 3–7, including permanent infrastructure where whānau (extended families) live. Physical displacement through the loss of housing/infrastructure, food, and natural resources are among the many impacts that will directly affect the lives of those currently living in Owhata. SLR in Owhata will also likely see the loss of intertidal habitats; changes to erosion; saltwater intrusion; decline of mangroves and wetlands; and the loss of dune systems.^35,36 Pollution from infrastructure inundation is also a high risk with five unoccupied dwellings; sewage tanks and abandoned vehicles are at risk of being washed into the local marine environment. The cultural impacts of this land loss for the Owhata community are more difficult to quantify but among the more straightforward is the loss of the marae and the land. This would pose challenges to the whānau around maintaining their cultural identity; traditional practices; and relationships with their ancestors, because there is an intrinsic connection with place, which cannot be fulfilled elsewhere. This is a core element to being indigenous.

The need for proactive solutions and management plans to diminish cultural, financial, emotional, and lifestyle impacts of coastal inundation is urgent. Initial steps involved shifting the deficit framing of Māori communities to one of empowerment with social and environmental equity as the main goal. This proclamation for active agency is being called for by Indigenous scholars globally, seeking engagement at all levels of climate change impacts, particularly in decision-making spaces.^{37,38,39,40,41} From a Māori perspective, we frame active agency through the lens of kaitiakitanga. Although a recent addition to the literature, active agency is a long-established concept for Māori. Kaitiaki are known as the agents of kaitiakitanga and encompass both human and nonhuman entities that carry out the practices and rituals to protect the life force of the environment. ⁴² When the Owhata community has full autonomy to meet their obligations as active agents in natural resource management and over all their ancestral lands, it is an act of climate justice that will lead to self-determination to shape their own futures in responding to SLR.

Decolonization, although dependent on the inclusion of Indigenous theories and values, cannot occur without associated practical implications.^43,44 As such, merely acknowledging the values of kaitiakitanga isolates it into a political or environmental context, rendering its cultural meaning and relevance ineffective. ⁴⁵ The community at Owhata live by these values and practices and through engagement with this research were able to take back control of their narrative by affirming their roles as kaitiaki. Through the dissemination of this research to the hapū and local community of Owhata, it was highlighted that this research provided insights into the potential future impacts of SLR. Unsurprisingly, many whanau knew or had inclinations that we were going to lose the land, owing to their intimate and intergenerational relationship they have with the area, expressing their innate ability of understanding the land. However, in order for the community to fully enact kaitiakitanga they need to have full autonomy over their lands. The only obstacles seen to effectively fulfill their role as kaitiaki were the continued social and climate injustices created by colonization. Unimpeded kaitiakitanga practices would indeed act as a decolonial tool to assist the people of Owhata in climate change active agency.

Another key element of kaitiakitanga that is often overlooked is sovereignty. ⁴⁶ How Māori respond to climate change at the governance level is vital, particularly considering the autonomous right of all hapū over their natural resource management as stated in Article 26 of the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Matike mai Aotearoa, ⁴⁷ a report that develops a constitutional transformation model based upon New Zealand’s founding documents He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Nu Tireni (1835) and Te Tiriti o Waitangi (1840), is a key guiding document for a genuine kaitiakitanga guided response to climate change. The imperative condition being the autonomy of hapū and marae (i.e., local groupings) to ensure that the tikanga-based bottom-up governance structure of the Māori world is actualized. As this pertains to climate change, it would allow Māori communities such as those at Owhata to have autonomy over their ancestral lands and allowing them to fully embody kaitiakitanga and its Māori practices. It is a climate change response in which Māori worldviews, culture, and tikanga (protocols) are the assumed norm. As the literature calls for managed retreat as the only true solution to coastal erosion and SLR, this is of particular relevance.^48,49,50,51

For Māori, relocating communities from coastal areas to accommodate the changing environment is merely a return to our dynamic settlement lifestyle. It was commonplace for Māori to relocate throughout the years and decades to seasonal dwellings. This allowed for optimized resource harvesting, the maintenance of ancient intertribal relationships, and to mitigate the impacts of our ever-changing environment. Modern marae, which are static, is a concept that has been forced upon Māori communities over the last century owing to land loss through colonization. In the case of Owhata, the ancestors of the community never settled where the current marae is located. Yet, all known dynamic settlement locations within the region are under Crown or private ownership and therefore alienated from the community. Consequently, reclamation of land is an important first step for Māori so that communities have the freedom to relocate within their tribal territories to appropriate settlement areas as the climate continues to change.

Unlike many research articles, the recommended future action of this project is not more research but action. Return to dynamic settlement and kaitiakitanga led climate responses that center the active agency of Indigenous communities. This space needs to be intentional to progress SLR responses in Aotearoa, New Zealand from a decolonial approach to indigenization if climate justice is ever to be achieved for Māori. It is important to acknowledge that this research is a small grass roots step in achieving the aspirations of the hapū and community at Owhata. To allow this, we call for the return of Māori land and autonomous natural resource management.

CONCLUSION

The challenge of rising sea levels (SLR) is intricate and will have significant repercussions on numerous low-lying coastal regions worldwide. Māori communities are poised to bear a disproportionate burden of SLR, primarily because colonial processes have erected barriers hindering their ability to mount effective responses. This research serves as an illuminating case study for a decolonial approach that can guide further research in understanding the broader implications of SLR on Indigenous populations. By centering Māori perspectives in Aotearoa, New Zealand we worked alongside the coastal Māori community at Owhata to gain a more detailed understanding of their experience of SLR on their tribal lands. Harnessing the strengths of Western science and centering the community’s needs and aspirations, we developed SSP projections using a DEM as a decolonial approach to climate change research. Although projections of infrastructure inundation were not surprising to the community, we were able to place timeframes on these events to inform the community’s response. Our results show that addressing the challenges posed by SLR is an urgent matter for Owhata that will necessitate autonomous, community-driven initiatives. We propose kaitiakitanga as a guiding framework in driving the Māori response to climate change, as it places the active agency of the community at the forefront. For this to become a reality, reclamation of land and unimpeded natural resource governance is required as opposed to the vulnerability narrative that is so commonly placed upon Indigenous groups. Instead, we champion an empowerment perspective that recognizes the potential that Māori peoples have and to revitalize our dynamic settlement lifestyles to once again live in synchrony with the environment.