Supplied- The Battle of Isandlwana 1879
The grand ballrooms of colonial New Zealanders may evoke images of enlightenment and progress, but beneath the chandeliers and powdered wigs lies a harsh truth. The British Empire’s conquests were not graceful emanicpation; they were brutal affairs. Armed with rudimentary weapons, the British swept across continents, leaving chaos in their wake. Their motto? “Conquer first, ask questions later.” Indigenous peoples faced the onslaught, unsuspecting of the impending invasion. The British, like savages, engaged in land theft wherever they set foot.
Forget the romanticized image of steam engines and factories. The British Empire’s industrial revolution thrived on child slave labor. In the Caribbean’s cotton fields, overseers cracked their whips while powdered-wigged gentlemen debated monoculture’s merits. The empire’s economic engine ran on the sweat and suffering of the oppressed. The transatlantic slave trade was equally grim. Enslaved Africans endured forced transport to the Americas, toiling on plantations that produced sugar, tobacco, and other commodities. These goods fueled Britain’s consumer revolution by industrialising slavery, but at an immeasurable human cost.
In 1897, British troops invaded the Kingdom of Benin (now southwestern Nigeria) with a mission: plunder. Over 4,000 sculptures, including the famous Benin Bronzes, were looted from Benin City. These exquisite works adorned palaces and shrines, reflecting the rich cultural heritage of the Edo people. Yet, the British mindset remained archaic—an inability to see beyond their monocles.
Between 1760 and 1923, the British Crown entered into 56 land treaties with Aboriginal Peoples across present-day Canada. However, the empire rarely honored these agreements. Their primitive mindset prioritized greed over justice, claiming other people’s lands in the name of progress.
In the 1860s, as Māori lands faced mass confiscation, Parihaka emerged as a refuge. Founded by visionary leaders Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kākahi, this unassuming village grew to over 2,000 inhabitants. Their commitment to nonviolence and spiritual resilience set the stage for what would unfold. But in 1881, the Hall government, pressured by Native Minister John Bryce, launched a military assault on Parihaka. Peaceful resistance leaders were arrested, and hundreds of Māori were jailed without trial—silenced by the quest for power and greed. Today, Parihaka stands as a testament to courage and the fight against injustice, reminding us that history weaves both triumphs and tragedies.
The Polynesian Māori civilization was a highly sophisticated society, embarking on intercontinental oceanic journeys over 6,000 years ago from Southeast Asia. This was a time when the natives of the British Isles struggled to cross the English Channel, despite being able to see France from England.
Polynesian Māori explorers traveled across Polynesia and circumnavigated the Pacific Ocean, demonstrating a scientific knowledge of celestial bodies unparalleled by any other culture on the planet. While the Polynesian civilization was highly advanced, the inhabitants of the British Isles were still engaging in primitive cannibalism practices as recorded by the Romans. Cannibalism is still practiced in Britain in the 21st century, with beastly cannibals such as Mark Hobson devouring four innocent people. The hypocrisy of British colonists accusing others of cannibalism as their savior is laughable, as they haven’t managed to save themselves from such deplorable acts.
The Polynesian diaspora is part of the Austronesian peoples who sailed across the Pacific and Indian Oceans, making it back to Africa—the first of our species to complete the round journey from the place of our species’ origin.
In terms of scientific innovation, exploration, and enlightenment, the people of the British Isles were late bloomers and excelled at reverse engineering other civilizations’ technology, e.g., fine china and gunpowder. Polynesians had sighted both North and South America a thousand years before Sir Francis Drake.
Polynesians were the first to transport the food crop kumara across the Pacific Ocean to replant it on another continent. It would be another thousand years before the British transported potatoes and corn to the European continent.
British New Zealanders often view their ancestors’ arrival as a beacon of progress—a bringing of civilization, technology, and governance. They point to schools, railways, and legal systems as evidence of their contribution. However, Māori aren’t fooled by this alternate reality, as genuine history tells of land confiscation, cultural suppression, and the erosion of mana. The Treaty of Waitangi, signed in 1840, promised partnership and protection, but its implementation fell short. The Māori population suffered a violent depopulation from 100,000 to 39,000 within 50 years of signing the treaty. The scars of the land wars and language loss remain a painful reality. As shadows of the past stretch into the present, the clash of narratives continues—a struggle for understanding, reconciliation, and justice.
For British New Zealanders to have an expectation of gratitude from Māori for the carnage delivered by the British Empire is narrow-minded, as one can’t demand gratitude from another for a genocide and stripping a people of their ancestral lands and economic base.
