SUMMARY
The best-planned housing developments, with optimally
designed and built houses, may nonetheless fail as viable
communities. A possible contributing factor is the manner in
which individualised tenure systems tend to divorce land rights
from social responsibilities. Recognising this, some Māori
planning initiatives in New Zealand have sought to re-introduce
key communal or socially-based tenure principles to the planning
equation. For example, that of emphasing broad aspects of
wellbeing, and of establishing meaningful relationships with
stakeholders throughout the development process. This paper
begins by contrasting the inherent strengths and weaknesses of
socially-based tenure and individualised tenure, then considers
the implications on land tenure when the strand of land rights
is separated from the strand of interpersonal links or social
responsibilities. The paper goes on to describe early progress
on a research project, planned to run for approximately two more
years, which sets out to describe the aspirations and complex
factors involved in such Māori planning initiatives and the
degree to which they are succeeding. The research also considers
extra-ordinary agreements that provide “work around” solutions
to cater for Māori land-right preferences that are not currently
provided for by off-the-shelf cadastral options. Two case
studies are discussed, namely a village project located in
Hamilton and a community development located in Kaitaia. These
cases were selected for initial analysis based on their
documented use and adoption of one or more core social tenure
principles, as well as for having demonstrated positive social
outcomes over a sustained period of time. The paper establishes
a theoretical context and rationale for building socially-based
tenure principles into contemporary planning, with a suitable
legislative framework, and concludes that transferable lessons
and approaches could result.
1. INTRODUCTION
The best-planned housing developments, with optimally
designed and built houses, may nonetheless fail as viable
communities. A possible contributing factor is the manner in
which individualised tenure systems tend to divorce land rights
from social responsibilities. In other words, under
individualised tenure it is possible to be a bad neighbour
without jeopardising rights in land. In contrast, the security
of land rights in communal land tenure systems, otherwise known
as socially-based tenure, depends on good relationships between
individuals and their belonging groups. In this kind of tenure,
group members may view servicing social responsibilities as
tantamount to paying rates. It is possible that in
individualising land rights, a crucial responsibility set has
been “lost in translation”, and that mainstream planning needs
to factor in communal principles better if more sustainable
communities are to be achieved.
In New Zealand, some Māori planning initiatives are
characterised by a recognition that communal principles are
crucial and need to be re-introduced to the planning equation.
This article describes early progress on a research project, due
to run to the end of 2019, that sets out to describe the
aspirations and the complex factors involved in such initiatives
and the degree to which they are succeeding. The article is
structured in four sections. First, this introductory section,
giving the context and background. Second, a brief review of
communal tenure in the twenty first century with particular
reference to characteristics of communal tenure still associated
with Māori Freehold Land (MFL) in New Zealand; strengths and
weaknesses of communal tenure; and implications of separating
land rights from community responsibilities in New Zealand’s
colonial history. Third, a summary and critique of progress to
date on two early case studies of Māori developments that have,
to different degrees, attempted to re-introduce communal values.
Fourth, discussion and conclusions up to this point, and
consideration of international cases, validation of
recommendations, and future research directions.
2. A REVIEW OF COMMUNAL TENURE
Communal tenure, so called to reflect the socially embedded
nature of its rights, still dominates right-holding in many
parts of the world. This includes the Pacific, where the
majority of land is under customary land tenure systems (Ward
and Kingdon 1995), Africa, where only between two and ten
percent of land is covered by formal tenure (Cotula 2006), and
even pockets of land in developed countries such as Port Meadow
in Oxford, England, and saeters in Switzerland and Scandinavia.
One complicating factor when we speak of communal and formal is
the consistent definition of terms. Custom is not static
(Cheater 1990, Ranger 1983, Mamdani 1996, Chimhowu and Woodhouse
2006, 2010), and formal tenure is varied. For the purposes of
this article, normative communal tenure (or socially-based
tenure) is defined as comprising land that is not openly
marketed and whose use-rights are not listed in any register;
has non-exclusive rights (excepting, in some instances,
homesteads); and has land rights that are bound up with the
duties and responsibilities associated with belonging to a
social group. Formal tenure (or individualised tenure) is
defined as having marketable land with rights that are
registered by the state (or sometimes by municipalities (Goodwin
2013b)); has exclusive rights (i.e. it is possible to forbid
trespassing); and has rights that are held separate from social
responsibilities (i.e. the land rights of bad neighbours and
uncaring offspring are not compromised). In practice, between
these two idealised extremes lies a complex continuum of locally
specific land tenure forms (Chimhowu and Woodhouse 2006, 353;
UN-HABITAT 2008).
Strictly, Māori Freehold Land (MFL) in New Zealand, comprising
6% of the land area, is not held under communal tenure at all.
However, MFL has retained some characteristics of communal land,
and for those living on general land – for example, in urban
centres – it performs some functions of communal land. MFL has
special issues associated with it that we need to be aware of
when we consider how Māori are attempting to build communal
values into planning. Its geographic location is often remote or
rural, and its tenure often fragmented and multiply owned. There
are challenges involved in raising and securing finance (banks
are often wary, since the land is difficult to sell should the
bank need to recover funds); in planning restrictions (MFL is
often zoned as rural, resulting in costly resource consenting
processes to combat more restrictive housing provisions); in the
lack of infrastructure (servicing is often sparse where land is
zoned as rural); and in the difficulties involved in gaining
acceptance or agreeance among multiple owners or even contacting
them (Durie 1998; Hutchings 2006). This research will consider
developments on MFL within easy driving distance of urban
centres (e.g. at Rapaki, near Christchurch), and on general land
in urban centres that has connections with MFL (see later). It
will also make conclusions more general by drawing on
international case studies, for example in Denmark, the
Netherlands and Africa, probably using a voluntary approach with
willing communities.
There is a growing body of literature that seeks to understand
how Māori frameworks and principles can be applied within a
planning context to advance aspirations of Māori landowners
(Awatere et al. 2013; Awatere et al. 2008; Rolleston & Awatere
2009). Māori interests in urban development are rarely solely
economic, and instead draw in other aspects of wellbeing in a
holistic manner (Ryks et al. 2014). For example, Awatere et al.
(2013) stress the importance of whanaungatanga (kinship) and of
establishing meaningful relationships with stakeholders
throughout the development process in order to advance
aspirations. More generally, Awatere et al. (2008) offer nine
process-oriented Māori urban design principles which can be used
to guide the design of papakāinga (communal villages):
whānaungatanga (participation and membership); kotahitanga
(cohesion and collaboration); wairuatanga (embedded
emotion/spirit); mauritanga (essence/life force); orangatanga
(health and well-being); manaakitanga (hospitality and
security); kaitiakitanga (guardianship or stewardship);
rangatiratanga (leadership, identity and self-determination);
and mātauranga (knowledge and understanding). Similarly,
Auckland City Council has adopted the outcome-oriented Te Aranga
Māori design principles which offer practical guidance for
incorporating Māori values in urban design (Te Aranga 2008). At
a specific level, the Joint Agency Group in the Western Bay of
Plenty have developed Te Keteparaha mo ngā Papakāinga, a toolkit
to assist Māori to develop papakāinga proposals (Kingi &
Viriaere 2015). These and other innovations point to a growing
movement for Māori-focused frameworks to inform and provide for
development of Māori land in a way that Western frameworks have
not always been able to achieve.
In the same way, there is evidence of extra-ordinary agreements
that provide workaround solutions to cater for Māori land-right
preferences that are not currently provided for by off-the-shelf
cadastral options. For example, in 2011, Judge Ambler of the
Māori Land Court granted what he termed a “hybrid partition”
(Ambler 2011: 18) where land was subdivided into different
titles that outlined different use areas for different owners
whilst retaining the underlying ownership of the land in
undivided shares. The result bears similarities to the concept
of cross-lease developments, but required combinations of
occupation orders and trust orders to achieve its purpose. The
hybrid partition concept stemmed from the owners’ aspirations to
partition separate areas for the different owners, combined with
their desire to protect the land from being sold outside of the
family. This case expands the research question to include
whether regular cadastral options on offer may lack certain
land-right preferences acceptable to Māori, and how legislation
could best be modified to assist in re-introducing communal
principles to mainstream planning in New Zealand. Once again,
scrutiny of international legislation underpinning community
housing initiatives is planned in order to make the research
more general. International cases will also be used to validate
any recommendations.
Where it is recognised that innovative approaches have been
adopted in New Zealand (Ambler 2011; Kake 2017; Kingi & Viriaere
2015), a gap exists in the literature in terms of ascertaining
the level of success of such approaches in the short and longer
term. There is also a gap in establishing the manner in which
design principles have been implemented, and the degree of
faithfulness to these principles, which in some cases may only
be at the level of lip-service. The question is also raised of
whether any knowledge frameworks developed could then be
extended to guide development and to build stronger communities
on a wider cross-section of land, not just Māori land.
Harmsworth and Awatere (2013) have raised the idea of a
bicultural approach with an equal emphasis on Western and
indigenous knowledges, but to date, such approaches are in their
infancy with regard to land development.
2.1 Strengths and weaknesses
Before considering case studies of planning attempts that aim
to re-introduce communal principles, it is important to
recognise that neither socially-based tenure nor individualised
tenure offer a “silver bullet.” Socially based tenure has
strengths, such as in the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand
with land rights, but also weaknesses. For example, Sara Berry
notes that investment by right-holders in social relationships
may result in patronage, nepotism, inconsistent application of
law and non-competitiveness in a free market, all of which have
inherent insecurities. She also points to an investment in
channels of access and a proliferation of these channels that
may be difficult to withdraw from and can result in unproductive
patterns of resource use (Berry 1989: 51). Demographics are
important, because population growth adds another source of
instability, in that even those eligible for customary rights
and who have regularly sent remittances home in order to retain
latent rights may be denied access to land where it is in short
supply (Goodwin 2013a: 167).
At the formal extreme, individualised “Western” tenure has a
destabilising propensity for polarisation of rich and poor
unless controls such as death duties, capital gains tax and
limits on farm size are imposed, all of which are difficult and
costly to administer. It is also rare to achieve controls that
are independent of governance and of economic systems, since the
wealthy often possess vested interests, have more experience in
negotiating bureaucracy, and wield inequitable lobbying power.
Furthermore, in contrast with the deeply entrenched notion of
communal land being held in trust for generations yet to be born
(Meek 1949), formal tenure tends to be myopic in its emphasis on
the short-term owing to factors such as finite terms of office
and requirements to demonstrate regular profits. Formal rights
are also often unfairly biased against women, offering them less
security than for male right holders. In addition, commoditised
land is vulnerable to irresponsible sales (for which male
household heads are notorious), and to distress sales (for
example to meet hospital or school fees, or to service debt).
Finally, formal registration, whether imposed or voluntary, has
a tendency to register primary rights and omit secondary rights.
The latter may include grazing rights, gathering wild foods and
materials, and the responsibility to provide food and shelter,
all of which are generally important threads in the safety net
of the poorest sector of society, and of emotional and cultural
well-being.
Between the communal and formal extremes, right-holders are
often denied the social safeguards of customary tenure while not
yet having access to the unemployment, sickness and old age
benefits of mature ‘Western’ tenure systems. At the same time,
land rights in this zone are poorly protected either by custom
or formal registration, with rights of the poor being
particularly vulnerable to opportunistic land-grabs by the rich
and powerful within a country or by outsiders such as
multinational companies (Cotula et al. 2009). Women may be
forced to stay in this unprotected zone longer than men if title
registration is blocked in their names (Chimhowhu and Woodhouse
2006: 347). From the point of view of governance, interim shades
of land tenure are often too varied to administer efficiently.
2.2 Implications of separating land rights
from community responsibilities
It is helpful, when considering the idea of reintroducing
communal values in planning, to understand the implications of
separating the strands of land rights from links with people in
the first place (Goodwin 2011). This kind of separation took
place in New Zealand in the latter part of the nineteenth
century following the passing of the Native Land Act of 1865.
Before separating the strands, land rights are generally only
secure if people remain part of an integrated community, because
there is an inbuilt survival incentive to cooperate for hunting,
cultivation and fighting. However, there is an obvious catch in
re-introducing an element of survival into contemporary society.
The same difficulties emerge as when attempting to re-introduce
predators to wilderness areas, namely that life immediately
becomes less secure, especially for vulnerable groups. While
cutting social security benefits to the point where people need
to rely on their neighbours will probably foster community, it
will also cause suffering and is likely to contravene standards
to which a country has subscribed. It is difficult or impossible
to turn the clock back.
After separating the strands of land links and interpersonal
links, land rights are secure even for uncooperative and
antisocial individuals, and welfare benefits are an automatic
right of citizenship (i.e. State security is more important to
survival than either whakapapa (ancestry) or teamwork). Before
separating the strands, rights to land are bound up with duties
to family, community (including retrospective and prospective
community; in other words, ancestors and children), and the
spirit world. Survival is also tied to sound relationships with
the natural world. After separation, duties to family,
community, posterity and to the natural world become voluntary,
personal and, with the direct link to survival removed,
sometimes excluded from our busy schedules.
Another issue is that of discipline. Before separating the
strands, discipline is possible because excommunication from the
group is a real and possibly even a fatal threat. After, being
able to “opt out” dilutes traditional authority. National and
local political leaders have more authority than cultural heads,
and discipline becomes problematic without either the incentives
afforded by kinship and “being needed,” or of the threat of
ostracism/ excommunication.
Still another issue is the question of how rights are retained
or lost. Before separating the strands, equitable benefits and
group membership pass to all (i.e. no member of the group will
ever be denied shelter and food) but management is passed either
to individuals or families according to need, mana (charisma,
authority), ahi kā (keeping the fires burning, and the effort
and expense invested in this). After separation of the strands,
in the absence of a will, tenancy in common (established under
the Māori Land Court) conveys not only joint land rights but
management of that land. This often results in “large committee”
issues, and inefficient utilisation. Bottom-line food and
shelter benefits are now tied to citizenship and not to the
land.
Finally, before separating the strands, belonging groups share a
common history and usually common ancestor/s, and comprise
kinship units bound by love and affection. After, through treaty
and naturalization, nations comprise larger groups with more
disparate members who may have diverse histories and
experiences. Enhanced unity is sometimes only brought about in
times of war, or even sporting contests. Conversely, national
unity may be eroded by strengthening perceptions of being a
global citizen. Strong cohesion today is more often associated
with smaller groupings and blood lines (families) than with
tribes or nations.
3. RE-INTRODUCING COMMUNAL VALUES IN MĀORI PLANNING
We now turn to some real-world case studies which have sought
to reintroduce communal values into mainstream planning
processes and developments. Case studies are appropriate since
they seek to understand real-world situations predicated on
‘contextual conditions’ which cannot be controlled in the same
way as a laboratory environment (Yin 2014: 16). Two preliminary
cases have been included in this paper: first, a Kaumātua
(elders) village project located in Hamilton, and second, the
Whare Ora papakāinga development located in Kaitaia. These cases
were selected for initial analysis based on their documented use
and adoption of one or more core social tenure principles, as
well as having demonstrated positive social outcomes over a
sustained period of time (longer than one year). Further cases
will be drawn on, both from New Zealand and internationally, to
validate and test the wider applicability of any conclusions.
3.1 Kaumātua village, Hamilton
The concept behind the Kaumātua Village project in Hamilton
arose from a concern regarding the living conditions of some
kaumātua (elders) in the city and a desire to provide them with
warm, safe houses. A joint venture between Rauawaawa Kaumātua
Charitable Trust (RKCT) and Te Runanga o Kirikiriroa (TROK)
enabled the housing development to be born. The project was
developed in two stages, with stage 1 consisting of eight units,
and stage 2 consisting of six units. The units comprise one or
two bedrooms, one bathroom unit and either an integrated garage,
on-site parking (uncovered or carport) or on-street parking.
The units have been designed based on the papakāinga (communal)
model, where people learn to share and care for one another and
look after one another as a quasi-whānau (family). Physically,
the units are generally arranged around a central, communal
space (platform/area under a shade sail) to encourage community
interaction and passive surveillance, whilst also providing for
the need for private spaces within individual units. One of the
benefits of this layout was immediately apparent when a resident
fell ill and other residents could easily rally around and
provide support by cooking meals and watching over them. This
degree of support is unlikely to have occurred in more isolated
units, or where a communal space had not laid a foundation of
trust and cooperation. In the same development, the residents
refused the offer of a commercial gardener to mow the lawns,
with one of the residents insisting he was capable of doing so
himself. He now mows the lawns across the whole site, something
recognised and supported by the other residents with a koha
(donation) in return. These specific aspects align with the
principles of whanaungatanga (participation and membership) and
manaakitanga (hospitality and security) as design qualities
highlighted by Rolleston (2006) and others (e.g. Awatere et al.,
2008). Historically, participation in Māori society included
responsibilities and roles in order to support the day-to-day
functioning of the community, and membership was founded on
genealogy. In this contemporary context, a comparable result has
been achieved by the physical layout of the development, which
encourages mutual support rather than isolation or segregation,
as well as by informal, ad-hoc agreements for mahi (work) which
have promoted a sense of belonging or investment in the group. A
telling comparison should be possible, and is planned, for a
second Kaumātua Village project that for a number of reasons has
a different layout.
3.2 Whare Ora papakāinga, Kaitaia
The Whare Ora papakāinga is a communal village located on the
outskirts of Kaitaia, a town of approximately 5,000 people in
Northland. This project involved former state houses being
relocated to the site and refurbished to house especially
vulnerable members of society, living in substandard or unsafe
conditions, in comparatively stable, affordable homes and a safe
living environment. The village currently comprises nine houses
and a childcare centre building, and on completion, is envisaged
to include a medical centre, social support service, industry
training facilities and community gardens. Residents sign up to
a drug, alcohol and violence free policy within the village and
utilise a rent-to-buy scheme to eventually own their own home.
This development demonstrates the principle of rangatiratanga
(self-determination) in that it supports families to support
themselves, through wrap-around services such as budgeting for
residents to work towards their goals of home ownership. The
project offered trade training involved with the refurbishment
of the relocated houses, as well as associated opportunities for
sweat equity to lower costs, whereby residents were encouraged
to help paint and decorate houses prior to moving in. As well as
fostering self-determination, this builds in the concept of mahi
and provides opportunities for creativity to blossom.
4. DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS
The research is still in its very early stages, and no firm
conclusions are possible yet. One of the primary aims of this
paper was to establish a theoretical context and rationale for
building socially-based tenure principles into contemporary
planning, and to describe the objectives and methods of the
research project that is planned to run for approximately two
more years. Two other case studies that have also been commenced
already, include: first, the differently configured Kaumātua
Village project in Hamilton, which should provide a good
comparison. Second, a development in Invercargill with some
distinctive features. In addition to further New Zealand cases,
international cases are also planned, for example in Denmark,
the Netherlands and perhaps Africa so as to make the conclusions
more generally applicable and to validate recommendations. A
major challenge of the research is likely to be the number of
interrelated factors involved, and it is hoped that carefully
chosen case study comparisons will enable parameters to be
isolated and ranked.
The second aim of this research is to investigate a suitable
legislative framework to accomplish design aims. It is perhaps
significant that the Whare Ora papakāinga described above needed
the land to be changed from general land to Māori land in order
to utilise the papakāinga provisions in the local district plan
(and therefore to provide mixed-use community facilities as well
as housing). This required an application to, and processing by,
the Māori Land Court, including extensive proof of whakapapa.
This time consuming and costly step could have been avoided had
planning legislation allowed for this type of development on
general land to begin with. There are precedents of constructive
engagement between runanga/representative bodies and their local
district councils which have achieved pragmatic compromises over
papakāinga land, such as Rāpaki, and also the provisions within
the Whangārei district plan. Again, international legislation
will need to be reviewed to contextualise cases from abroad.
Transferable lessons and approaches from these experiences could
assist mainstream planning practice to improve with respect to
achieving viable and sustainable communities.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The authors would like to acknowledge both the University of
Otago and the Building Better Homes, Towns and Cities research
programme for invaluable support and funding for this project.
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
David Goodwin is a Senior Lecturer at Te Kura Kairūri, the
School of Surveying, at the University of Otago. His research
interests include Māori and African land tenure,
archaeoastronomy and literary cartography.
James Berghan (Te Rarawa, Te Aupouri) is a PhD candidate at Te
Kura Kairūri, the School of Surveying, at the University of
Otago. He is a Licensed Cadastral Surveyor with an interest in
land development and resource management planning, particularly
in relation to Māori land.
CONTACTS
Dr David Goodwin
School of Surveying, University of Otago
P.O. Box 56
Dunedin 9054
New Zealand
Tel. +64 3 4796540
Email: [email protected]
Web site:
http://www.otago.ac.nz/surveying/staff/otago040649.html
James Berghan
School of Surveying, University of Otago
P.O. Box 56
Dunedin 9054
New Zealand
Tel. +64 3 4799209
Email: [email protected]
