A political prediction — resting on remarkably convenient omissions and unexamined assumptions.
Godfery tells us that Māori power has grown. He does not properly explain how it grew.
His story (bold text) runs through:
Much of the modern expansion of Māori political and economic power did not arise naturally from demographic change.
It was constructed, encouraged and progressively entrenched through government policy.
The transformation accelerated dramatically after 1975, when the Labour Government established the Waitangi Tribunal. Its original jurisdiction was limited to contemporary claims. In 1985, Parliament retrospectively extended that jurisdiction back to 1840.
The consequences were enormous.
In 1882, a Māori delegation led by Hirini Taiwhanga took nine grievances to England and sought an investigation.
By June 2009, 2,034 claims had been registered with the Waitangi Tribunal.
That explosion demonstrates something Godfery’s narrative conveniently obscures: once governments created a permanent institutional mechanism for historic grievances to be lodged, investigated and potentially converted into political and material redress, claims multiplied enormously.
By 2015 the Tribunal had registered more than 2,500 claims. Parliament's own description of the process makes clear that claims can be grouped together, and that settlements generally resolve existing and potential historical claims of a claimant group.
The settlement machinery then transferred substantial resources.
By June 30, 2026, legislation had provided for 115 settlements worth $4.94-billion.
That is an argument against pretending that today's enormous iwi economic base simply emerged from some unstoppable historical process.
Government policy helped build it — deliberately transferring assets, creating new institutional arrangements and progressively expanding the role of iwi in public life.
And then Godfery makes the extraordinary leap from that accumulated economic power to an argument for further political power.
Iwi becoming wealthy does not establish a constitutional right to greater political authority.
Iwi owning land does not establish such a right.
- The New Zealand Wars — initiated by a minority of rebellious tribes.
- Māori urbanisation — Māori moved to the cities seeking work and better opportunities.
- The Labour movement — strengthened by the 1936 Rātana–Labour alliance.
- The Māori renaissance — driven by a growing demand for self-determination.
- Treaty settlements — expanded dramatically after the Waitangi Tribunal gained retrospective jurisdiction to 1840.
- Iwi businesses — strengthened by settlement assets and commercial transfers.
- Māori MPs — supported by dedicated Māori electorates created in 1867.
- The incorporation of tikanga into the state — accelerated through legislation and government policy.
Much of the modern expansion of Māori political and economic power did not arise naturally from demographic change.
It was constructed, encouraged and progressively entrenched through government policy.
The transformation accelerated dramatically after 1975, when the Labour Government established the Waitangi Tribunal. Its original jurisdiction was limited to contemporary claims. In 1985, Parliament retrospectively extended that jurisdiction back to 1840.
The consequences were enormous.
In 1882, a Māori delegation led by Hirini Taiwhanga took nine grievances to England and sought an investigation.
By June 2009, 2,034 claims had been registered with the Waitangi Tribunal.
That explosion demonstrates something Godfery’s narrative conveniently obscures: once governments created a permanent institutional mechanism for historic grievances to be lodged, investigated and potentially converted into political and material redress, claims multiplied enormously.
By 2015 the Tribunal had registered more than 2,500 claims. Parliament's own description of the process makes clear that claims can be grouped together, and that settlements generally resolve existing and potential historical claims of a claimant group.
The settlement machinery then transferred substantial resources.
By June 30, 2026, legislation had provided for 115 settlements worth $4.94-billion.
That is an argument against pretending that today's enormous iwi economic base simply emerged from some unstoppable historical process.
Government policy helped build it — deliberately transferring assets, creating new institutional arrangements and progressively expanding the role of iwi in public life.
And then Godfery makes the extraordinary leap from that accumulated economic power to an argument for further political power.
Iwi becoming wealthy does not establish a constitutional right to greater political authority.
Iwi owning land does not establish such a right.
Māori entering Parliament does not establish such a right.
The incorporation of tikanga into government does not establish such a right.
Yet Godfery treats each development as another stage in an apparently irreversible historical march.
Consider Māori parliamentary representation. There are currently seven Māori electorates, alongside the general electorates and party-list seats.
That is a deliberate feature of New Zealand's electoral system — not an inevitable consequence of history.
So too are the increasingly controversial Treaty obligations and Māori-specific institutional arrangements embedded in legislation and public administration.
This is why Godfery's argument is backwards.
He mistakes the consequences of political decisions for the laws of history.
There is another awkward fact his racial narrative largely sidesteps: modern New Zealanders are of increasingly mixed ancestry.
New Zealand has experienced generations of intermarriage and shared family, community and economic life. Yet as those social boundaries have become increasingly blurred, the political system has simultaneously become more conscious of racial categories.
The question therefore becomes unavoidable:
If New Zealanders are increasingly integrated as individuals and families, why should ancestry increasingly determine political representation and institutional treatment?
Godfery never really answers that.
Instead, he celebrates Māori moving “from the streets to the boardroom” and from protest into the state.
But who opened the doors?
Parliament did. Governments did. The public service did. The universities did. Crown agencies did.
The modern expansion of Māori institutional power was not simply something that happened to New Zealand.
It was something short-sighted governments deliberately encouraged and progressively entrenched.
However what governments create, governments can change.
That is why Godfery's conclusion that the present conflict will “almost certainly resolve in favour of Māori” is so revealing.
There is no law of history requiring it.
The Treaty does not contain a provision saying Māori political influence must continually expand.
It does not establish two classes of New Zealand citizen.
It does not say that historical grievances must produce an ever-expanding system of separate representation and institutional authority.
Those developments are products of modern political decisions and interpretations.
Godfery wants us to believe the argument is already over because history has chosen a winner.
It hasn't.
Perhaps the real race-relations crisis is not resistance to Māori progress at all.
Perhaps it is the growing realisation that equal citizenship is being replaced by an increasingly elaborate system of racial differentiation — and that this transformation was never put to New Zealanders as a single constitutional choice.
Godfery has mistaken momentum for legitimacy.
And he has mistaken political direction for political destiny.
**History does not get to decide New Zealand's future - New Zealanders do.**
Geoff Parker is a passionate advocate for equal rights and a colour blind society.
The incorporation of tikanga into government does not establish such a right.
Yet Godfery treats each development as another stage in an apparently irreversible historical march.
Consider Māori parliamentary representation. There are currently seven Māori electorates, alongside the general electorates and party-list seats.
That is a deliberate feature of New Zealand's electoral system — not an inevitable consequence of history.
So too are the increasingly controversial Treaty obligations and Māori-specific institutional arrangements embedded in legislation and public administration.
This is why Godfery's argument is backwards.
He mistakes the consequences of political decisions for the laws of history.
There is another awkward fact his racial narrative largely sidesteps: modern New Zealanders are of increasingly mixed ancestry.
New Zealand has experienced generations of intermarriage and shared family, community and economic life. Yet as those social boundaries have become increasingly blurred, the political system has simultaneously become more conscious of racial categories.
The question therefore becomes unavoidable:
If New Zealanders are increasingly integrated as individuals and families, why should ancestry increasingly determine political representation and institutional treatment?
Godfery never really answers that.
Instead, he celebrates Māori moving “from the streets to the boardroom” and from protest into the state.
But who opened the doors?
Parliament did. Governments did. The public service did. The universities did. Crown agencies did.
The modern expansion of Māori institutional power was not simply something that happened to New Zealand.
It was something short-sighted governments deliberately encouraged and progressively entrenched.
However what governments create, governments can change.
That is why Godfery's conclusion that the present conflict will “almost certainly resolve in favour of Māori” is so revealing.
There is no law of history requiring it.
The Treaty does not contain a provision saying Māori political influence must continually expand.
It does not establish two classes of New Zealand citizen.
It does not say that historical grievances must produce an ever-expanding system of separate representation and institutional authority.
Those developments are products of modern political decisions and interpretations.
Godfery wants us to believe the argument is already over because history has chosen a winner.
It hasn't.
Perhaps the real race-relations crisis is not resistance to Māori progress at all.
Perhaps it is the growing realisation that equal citizenship is being replaced by an increasingly elaborate system of racial differentiation — and that this transformation was never put to New Zealanders as a single constitutional choice.
Godfery has mistaken momentum for legitimacy.
And he has mistaken political direction for political destiny.
**History does not get to decide New Zealand's future - New Zealanders do.**
Geoff Parker is a passionate advocate for equal rights and a colour blind society.
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