In search of a decolonised military: Māori cultural learning experiences in the New Zealand Defence Force

Abstract

Māori people contribute significantly to the New Zealand Defence Force. Māori indigenous knowledge, however, did not feature in military curricula until recently. It was a common expectation that Māori personnel would conform to the dominant Western worldview, which often meant sacrificing indigenous identity. The introduction of the Service bicultural policies has paved the way for significant change in military education practices in the twenty-first century. This paper showcases the Māori cultural learning experiences of 34 members from the New Zealand Defence Force as they reflect on their experiences within the contemporary context of a military education and training environment, and the broader context of a decolonising society. This study argues that the inclusion of indigenous knowledge systems in military curricula improves the learning experiences of all members. Themes relating to individual development and improved organisational morale emerged that were found to be directly or indirectly attributed to the inclusion of Māori cultural training. The study is grounded in a multicultural military organisation, operating within a nation seeking to establish a bicultural co-equal partnership between Māori, the tangata whenua, original inhabitants, and non-Māori, the kaiwhakanoho whenua, or settler population, of New Zealand.

Keywords:

• benefits
• indigenous knowledge
• Māori cultural learning experiences
• military curricula

Introduction

The formal inclusion of Māori indigenous knowledge in the New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF) has contributed positively to the military learning environment. Providing recognition of the value and importance of Māori indigenous knowledge within the organisation, the opening of the first Service marae¹ in October 1995 has promoted a sense of shared identity, based on the fusion of European traditions and the Māori warrior culture. Recognising the mutual obligations and responsibilities under the Treaty of Waitangi, 1840 (referred to hereafter as the Treaty), the NZDF has developed a complementary approach to education by sharing the knowledge systems of two very different societies (Scoppio 2007). The military marae have since become the focal points for Māori cultural training, ceremonial activities, and places of learning for all members, ex-members and their families.

In 1996, the Chief of Staff released a directive that provided the framework for marae activities and directed the teaching of tikanga² Māori across Army training initiatives. Progressive training was to include close-quarter battle training using Māori weaponry, learning the Army haka,³ ethos training and ceremonial activities and was to occur throughout a member's career at every available opportunity. The deliberate inclusion of Māori indigenous knowledge was underpinned by the organisation's goal to inculcate ‘a commitment to service’ and to increase esprit de corps among members. Almost two decades later, the NZDF has implemented bicultural policies and training initiatives developed within each Service.

This study presents a counter narrative to the twentieth-century understanding of militarisation and the Western hegemonic discourse commonly found in Western military establishments. By exploring the experiences of 34 Māori and non-Māori personnel, the benefits of indigenous knowledge in military curricula are discussed. This paper is designed to bring into the social science literature the voices of NZDF personnel and ex-personnel by making visible the ‘points of connection with other sites and courses of action’ (Smith 2006, p. 17) such as political texts, social justice and bicultural discourse. The study argues that the inclusion of Māori cultural training improves the military learning experience and contributes positively to organisational morale and operational effectiveness. The discussion relates these data to emerging frameworks for decolonisation and alternative ways of knowing in a military context that include, but are not limited to, relational accountability and respect (Wilson 2008), improved cultural understanding (Kincheloe & Steinberg 2008) and engagement with diversity (Scoppio 2007).

To place the research in context, it is necessary to provide a brief overview of indigenous military participation during the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Indigenous people and people of colour contributed significantly to military organisations and were often sought after as auxiliaries, trackers, code talkers, reconnaissance scouts, porters, labourers and informants (Holm 1997; New Zealand Army, Ngāti Tumatauenga 2007; Stephens 1990; Nez with Avila 2011; Riseman 2012). In major overseas conflicts, the participation rates of indigenous people and people of colour sometimes exceeded that of their European counterparts, although racially discriminative legislation meant that they were often relegated to the labour-intensive or lower skilled occupations (Enloe 1980; Hall 1995; Holm 1997; Krouse & Dixon 2007). Despite the introduction of anti-race discrimination legislation and equal opportunity policies towards the latter half of the twentieth century, this trend has more or less continued with an over-representation of indigenous people and people of colour in particular rank and trade categories and an under-representation among others (Cheatham 1988; Erai 1995; Dansby et al. 2001).

Many indigenous people and people of colour also viewed military participation as a way to legitimise native citizenship (King 1988; LaDuke with Cruz 2013). The four Māori Members of Parliament supported Māori enlistment in the New Zealand armed forces and saw military service as a way to prove allegiance to the British monarchy. Undertaking extensive recruitment campaigns throughout both World Wars, the four Māori Members of Parliament were kept busy travelling the countryside challenging iwi⁴ to contribute more personnel than their neighbouring rivals (King 1988). The literature highlights the significant contribution asked of and made by indigenous people and people of colour in the naming of new nations but suggests that little has been done to recognise those contributions in terms of creating a military that is more receptive to indigenous knowledge systems. As Western militaries are under increased pressure to address gender and racial inequities (Bergin et al. 1993; Silk et al. 2000; Neill 2004; Williams & Gilroy 2006; Yagil 2007; Cowen 2008), it makes good sense to explore some of the benefits and best practices of the NZDF.

Background

In the 1970s, unresolved disputes over the inequitable sharing of power and privilege, economic and educational marginalisation (Smith 1999b), combined with the continued loss of Māori land, culminated in 1984 when Donna Awatere's book, Māori Sovereignty, challenged the core of New Zealand society and questioned the framework on which it was built (Fleras & Spoonley 1999; Campbell cited in Hill & Bonisch-Brednich 2007; Tomlins-Jahnke 2011). Awatere argued that the signing of the Treaty did not relinquish sovereignty of Aotearoa;⁵ instead, Pākehā deception and Crown complicity suppressed it (Fleras & Spoonley 1999). Despite propelling contentious public debate about sovereignty, land rights, education, biculturalism and other important societal issues, Awatere's findings charted the way for new methods of doing business in the twenty-first century (Culpitt 1994; Havemann 1999; Bishop 2010).

NZDF command courses include a workshop to clarify some of the issues. After attending one of these workshops, participants stated unanimously that it had helped to develop a better understanding of the relevant issues, particularly regarding education. The revolutionary journey towards equitable education has been a constant struggle for ethnic minorities. Educational philosopher Paulo Freire (2014) believes this is because transformative and revolutionary praxis that brings about dialogical change stands in opposition to ‘the prescriptive methods of the dominant elites’ (p. 126) and can only proceed with the action and reflection of those whom the elite have sought to dominate. The importance of the bicultural policies in achieving dialogical change was articulated by one NZDF member who stated: ‘without the bicultural policies in place, the NZDF would still be like the British Army’.

Many long-serving members (i.e. 20-plus years) agreed. Before the NZDF established its own chain of command, resident British officers, who had their own ideas about how the organisation should operate, were heavily influenced by their European culture. While experiences in command relationships with Māori personnel may have differed between the Services, generally speaking, the British commanders had little desire to listen to New Zealand personnel prior to the 1980s (three long-serving and two ex-members). Racism was not an uncommon experience throughout the twentieth century, as shown in a letter written by Sir Peter Buck, one of the four Māori members of Parliament, to the Minister of Native Affairs in 1934:

Western culture has accepted as an axiom that any member of their race or races is superior by that very fact to any member of a Native race no matter how gifted that Native may be in his own culture … The Native is a fine fellow so long as he accepts an inferior position. (Sorrenson 1988, p. 163)

Other issues that affected Māori were discrimination and the entrenched assumption that Māori were less intelligent than non-Māori. Three long-serving members commented that they were sometimes treated unfairly and discouraged from pursuing the higher skilled trades or becoming officers at the start of their military careers. This finding is consistent with one of Michelle Erai's findings in her 1995 thesis, Māori soldiers: Māori experiences in the New Zealand Army, when she stated: ‘What the literature has shown is that ethnicity and gender may restrict the corps an individual enters, the rank which they subsequently achieve, and therefore the path of their career within the army’ (Erai 1995, p. 45). While Erai's findings related to promotional opportunities and training experiences in general, comments from the participants in this study related to perceptions about ‘Māori culture’ in particular, and draw attention to the complex nature of hierarchical relationships, racism and institutional discrimination. One long-serving member was told that ‘Māori culture had no place in military life’ and the sooner he forgot about it, the better off he would be. Another member recalled a particularly distressing incident where a British officer informed him: ‘Your culture and your language is inferior and always will be.’ Long-serving Māori participants described the humiliation of being ordered to ‘speak English’ and commented that these were the times they drew on the strength from their own ‘culture’.

The amount of time and effort needed to include Māori knowledge in military curricula was perceived considerable. As stated by one Māori participant, ‘Unlike indigenous Australians, Māori has an advantage in that we have been able to get effect from Te Tiriti o Waitangi, albeit late and limited, and provided of course on the back of continual protest.’ Confirming Freire's (2014) finding regarding the dominant elite's reluctance to change, the above comment suggests issues of resistance are ongoing. Race relations scholar David Hollinsworth (2006) writes that much more work is required at institutional and structural levels to find out just how institutions work. The formal inclusion of Māori indigenous knowledge in military curricula provides some recognition for the systematic failure on the part of the institution to fully recognise the significant contribution made by Māori, and contributes to a better understanding of biculturalism.

Much of the recent education debate centres on the issues of what knowledge is, and how it is produced and controlled. Māori struggle to find autonomy where current neo-liberal education practices distort or disregard their worldview, instead asserting the myth that indigenous peoples are peoples without knowledge.⁶ The work of indigenous academics and social justice scholars has achieved considerable success in addressing some of these concerns. However, kaupapa (philosophy) Māori researcher Garrick Cooper (2012) writes that greater cultural congruency, sensitivity, pedagogy, competency and safety in education are not enough. Similar to Hollinsworth's (2006) concerns, Cooper believes that more needs to be done to challenge the underlying issues of ‘epistemological dominance’ that preside in Western institutions. In his article ‘Kaupapa Māori research: epistemic wilderness as freedom’, Cooper discusses a recent trend to address social justice concerns, which he refers to as the ‘culture thesis’. The culture thesis has many discursive manifestations and antecedents. Cultural practices such as the pōwhiri⁷ and kapa haka, which have been embraced by many New Zealand institutions, are perhaps too often taken up on their ‘weakest terms’ (Cooper 2012). For example, as one Māori elder claimed:

Our perspectives are different. We have things that are considered ‘spectacle’ versus ‘substance’. From a Māori perspective, substance always comes first. Unfortunately a lot of people don't understand or respect that; they see the spectacle and not the substance. They don't understand for example the ‘wero’ (challenge). They see just the jumping around and poking out of tongues etc. There is a lot more to it than that. It takes many years of training to be able to perfect that. So when we say ‘sorry, we can't do that (because there is an entire protocol attached to that and we do not perform it after dark or if the karanga (call), the female welcome, hasn't been completed first’, they say ‘oh, that takes too long, we only want to see the other (spectacle) part’.

This extract indicates that aspects of Māori indigenous knowledge have been embraced at the institutional level, but understanding the substance, or kaupapa Māori, is somewhat left to chance. Cultural practices on their own do not adequately challenge or critique issues of epistemological dominance but may inadvertently reinforce the myth that Māori people are cultural bearers and not knowledge holders or producers in their own right. Even worse is that cultural practices on their own could be perceived as tokenistic (Nakata 1991) or contemporary expressions of ‘essentialism’. Essentialism dates back to early ethnographers’ and anthropologists’ assessment of indigenous peoples, when they were viewed as ‘objects’ of study, or the exotic ‘other’, and not as ‘subjects’ with their own knowledge systems and multiple perspectives of the world (Smith 1999b).

Examples of epistemological dominance and contemporary essentialism are all too common in the twenty-first century. One recent example occurred when a visitor from Denmark criticised her experience on a NZDF marae resulting in a racial furore among the New Zealand and Danish public (Pryor 2013; Mortensen 2013). During a visit in 2013, Danish right-wing politician Marie Krarup wrote a scathing account of her official welcome ceremony on to the Royal New Zealand naval marae, in Auckland. Krarup referred to Māori people, their traditions and hospitality in a negative and demeaning manner describing the NZDF cultural training as ‘cultural self-annihilation’ or ‘grotesque’ multiculturalism. Commenting that Māori protocols and traditions are the ‘opposite’ of civilised, Krarup's criticisms not only offended her hosts, but resulted in the resurfacing of negative memories and stereotypical racist comments made to and about Māori people and their knowledge systems in the past (see also Larner & Spoonley 1995; Rocha 2012). Recent political debate within the New Zealand parliament about whether Māori should be legislated for as a cultural or racial group has added yet another layer of complexity to the issue (Gershon 2008). This debate indicates that Māori continue to be discussed in terms of culture or race, by some political leaders, rather than knowledge holders and producers in their own right and suggests that the challenge to overturn this framing of Māori with regard to the politics of knowledge production requires a paradigm change. Despite the identified issues, all members spoke positively about their military careers. As will be shown throughout this paper, the successful inclusion of the pōwhiri and kapa haka, combined with various other Māori learning opportunities in the NZDF, have created a positive framework for change.

Methodology

This study is based on Dorothy E. Smith's (1987, 1999a, 2006) method of enquiry known as institutional ethnography. Institutional ethnography is a qualitative research method that began in the 1970s that takes the standpoint of participants’ perspectives that begins within, and works from, people's embodied experience:

Committed to exploring the society from within people's experience of it, rather than objectifying them or explaining their behaviour, it would investigate how that society organizes and shapes the everyday world of experience. Its project is to explicate the actual social relations in which people's lives are embedded and to make these visible to them/ourselves. (Smith 1999a, p. 74)

Institutional ethnography was best suited to this study because the primary focus was to explicate how institutional policies and practices, and the wider political discourse of biculturalism, were influencing personnel learning experiences. In accordance with kaupapa Māori, it was important that the researcher had an empathetic understanding of the detrimental effects that Western research continues to have for Māori and also indigenous people⁸ in general. Kaupapa Māori research is governed by the understanding that all research that involves Māori must contribute to Māori pride and identity, and takes for granted the validity and legitimacy of Māori language and culture (G Smith cited in Smith 1999b). After satisfying the NZDF organisational research team that the research design and methodology was appropriate to achieve the research aims, and gaining ethical approval,⁹ a two-week study tour to six NZDF establishments was conducted in 2013.

Aspects of kaupapa Māori, such as adherence to local protocols and face-to-face interviews, complemented the research process where possible. For reasons outside the researcher's control, they could not be applied comprehensively. Reasons included the significant participation of non-indigenous personnel and the fact that participants had little involvement in what Professor Russell Bishop (1994) calls the ‘research whānau¹⁰ of interest’ (see also Heshusius 1994). Owing to the researcher's lack of Māori language ability, interviews were conducted in English, which meant that the research was not fully grounded in a kaupapa Māori framework or able to appreciate the multiplicities of Māori worldview (Rangahau 2015; Smith 1990; Bishop 1994; Smith 1999b). Generous hospitality and informative guidance provided by NZDF staff helped to overcome some of these issues.

Participants were serving or ex-serving members, whose ages ranged from 18 to 75. Data were gathered by way of focus group, survey or discussion using a snowballing sampling approach (Babbie 2007). All participants had been involved in the Māori cultural training, in some way, and were fairly evenly distributed across the three Services: 18 identified as Māori and 16 as non-Māori. Discussions were transcribed and analysed together with 21 surveys, personal observations and field notes. The full results of this study tour can be found in a pending chapter as part of a doctoral thesis entitled ‘The potential benefits to the Australian Defence Force educational curriculum of the inclusion of indigenous knowledge systems’. In order to avoid the standardised approaches to the reporting of research and information about Māori, which tend to be ‘comparative and deficit-based’ (Edwards et al. 2007; Mertens et al. 2013), the methodology of institutional ethnography, reinforced by principles of kaupapa Māori, allowed the findings to speak from members’ experiences on its own terms.

Findings

The findings are represented under three main themes: the journey, organisational processes and the learning experience. These themes place the research in context and draw attention to the institutional processes that are helping to shape the Māori cultural learning experience. Providing valuable evidence that contributes to the literature regarding the benefits that indigenous knowledge systems have for military organisations, these themes provide a framework for other militaries and also organisations considering social justice change.

The journey

The NZDF journey to include Māori indigenous knowledge in military curricula has taken place amid the meta-discourse of decolonisation and the longstanding issue to maintain goodwill between Māori and Pākehā. One of the major findings is that the introduction of the bicultural initiatives has had a decolonising effect by acknowledging the long-awaited respect for Māori knowledge:

It is good to see the young people want to learn, especially the Pākehā … we help the commanders and they are very respectful to us … we work it out together. In the old days, no one would listen and pay us respect … it is all different now.

Improved respect has contributed to a better understanding of kaupapa Māori and the important role that elders and indigenous languages play in the education process. These aspects are common features of many indigenous societies (Grenier 1998) but have been undermined by the processes of colonisation. Despite sustained political attempts to assimilate Māori into the dominant society (Simon & Smith 2001), Māori personnel stated that they have kept their traditions alive wherever possible: ‘We never let it go really, just quietly carried on teaching our culture in our own way’. One long-serving member said Māori language and culture continues to play an important role in his family and military life, as it has done for the past 129 years. The NZDF marae along with the Māori cultural training programmes are fundamental to the survival of tikanga¹¹ Māori, and are critically important for all personnel (see NZDF 2012).

It is only appropriate that officers can stand up, be confident and do the mihimihi¹² on the marae … these things … They have to be taught.

Without the involvement of elders, much of the language and knowledge relating to important military ceremonies would be lost. Speaking formally on the marae is akin to the Māori university where oratory skills need to be of the highest calibre (Muru 1990). Participants noted that learning the correct tikanga assists personnel by teaching them what is expected, so that they can avoid bringing the institution into disrepute. Reaching a critical mass in the NZDF (Scoppio 2007) during the twentieth century, and capitalising on the sharing of Māori ‘culture’ that had been quietly taking place since the late 1800s, Māori personnel with the support of their peers have taken up the challenge:

On our arrival to New Zealand we were given a Pōwhiri, a welcome ceremony, at the Royal New Zealand Navy's Te Taua Moana Marae. The uniqueness of the experience, coupled with our interest opened up a valuable world of rich discoveries. Two weeks later we joined the kapa haka cultural group at the Marae. For the first time in our lives we found ourselves amidst the beautiful Māori language, its people and customs—and our world truly expanded. (Fleissner 2009, p. 19)

As expressed in this statement, evidence of transformative education that liberates both the oppressors and the oppressed (Freire 2014) was commonly found among participants’ experiences. Reciprocated approaches to education are in accordance with kaupapa Māori, and provide lifelong connections and mutual benefits that extend far beyond the immediate experience (Smith 1990; Rangahau 2015). Māori, in particular, described it an honour to impart knowledge to those who have an open mind. After leading a kapa haka performance, one non-Māori member claimed: ‘It's just what we do around here; it is the norm.’ Unlike the Western example of imposing knowledge using the ‘banking’ concept of education, where knowledge is seen as a ‘gift bestowed by those who consider themselves knowledgeable upon those whom they consider to know nothing’ (Freire 2014, p. 72), participants stated that the Māori cultural training was more to do with ‘respect’ and inviting members to learn in a supportive whānau environment.

Organisational processes

This section shifts the focus of the study, but not the participants’ standpoint, to the site of the institution. It provides evidence of how some organisational processes implemented to achieve biculturalism are perceived by members, and how these are contributing to an improvement in cultural understanding.

Te reo Māori – language use and promotion

Language is fundamental to identity. Te Taura Whiri i te Reo Māori's (The Māori Language Commission) Statement of Intent 2011–2014 states that the Māori language is in a ‘critical state’ and efforts to revitalise its use need to be intensified so that it does not become extinct. Professional development opportunities, ceremonial occasions, the promotional education and training continuum, and oral and written measures applied in daily practice have greatly improved the level of te reo Māori within the organisation. With the exception of the kaumātua,¹³ however, there were no members who indicated speaking Māori as their first language. Several participants noted that more personnel, fluent in te reo, were enlisting from the kura (school) kaupapa but concerns were raised that they were not being granted recognition for their advanced levels of Māori knowledge. Paradoxically, in answer to the question ‘is the use of te reo encouraged in the organisation’, all members answered ‘yes’, although one respondent suggested it was used only in ‘certain contexts’ and another said it was not used ‘across all of the training’. Another member commented: ‘Māori perspectives … will never be reduced to a narrow field of military training. The “whole” concept needs to be understood’. These are important issues. Not only do they illustrate the institutional and epistemological concerns raised by Hollinsworth (2006) and Cooper (2012), but they highlight disparities with the bicultural policies and Te Taura Whiri i te Reo Māori.

To become an NZDF Māori cultural adviser (MCA), one needs to be fluent in te reo and speak confidently in all military settings. Members who had completed language training stated that they had gained confidence in speaking te reo and had definitely learnt more about the ‘Māori culture’. In the larger context of this study, one non-indigenous Australian Defence Force (ADF) member wrote:

I spent a year in NZ on the staff command course and learnt about NZ's history, Māori people and their connection to land. I also observed many non-Māori speaking and learning the Māori language and protocols. Cultural awareness and military history is important and not fully appreciated in the NT [Northern Territory] … we could do more in this aspect.

This comment shows how the promotion of te reo and Māori knowledge in the NZDF improves cultural understanding, and connects discursively to the experiences of others. The wider implications contribute to a better understanding of the benefits that indigenous knowledge systems offer for improving organisational cultures. As demonstrated, the NZDF bicultural efforts are seen to be recognised favourably by some foreign personnel. Comparisons are drawn between the member's own learning experience and the part that military organisations might play in terms of promoting an educational pedagogy that extends beyond the boundaries and limitations of Western knowledge practices. This point represents a critical stage in an institutional ethnographic study and the wider context of this study. By explicating the actualities in which participants are locally engaged, both NZDF and ADF members are able to see how their attitudes and experiences are implicated in societal efforts towards change. It is precisely at a point such as this, or perhaps the previous finding in relation to epistemological dominance, that the enquiry could lead to a second stage or more detailed investigation (Smith 1999a).

Instructor support, curriculum and professional development

Instructor support and curriculum development is achieved collaboratively by tapping into the wealth of knowledge that exists among NZDF members, ex-members and their communities. Again, the kaumātua play an integral role in this process by overseeing much of the subject matter knowledge. Members involved in the instruction indicated that they were well supported by the kaumātua, support staff and through professional development opportunities. Reiterating the decolonising effects in accordance with kaupapa Māori, many Māori participants stated that they gained more confidence in their identity through learning and sharing their knowledge with others:

My culture is important. [The training] … has allowed me to learn many new skills … and … gain a better understanding of who I am.

I have been fortunate enough to be involved in the cultural awareness programmes and seen that it has opened a lot of eyes—to see the changes in attitudes from the start to where they are at [sic] the end for a lot of people. It's not that New Zealanders are anti the culture or anything; it's just that a lot of people base their opinion on what they believe … as long as you give them facts and back it up, they not only will accept what it is that you have to say, but on most occasions they will embrace it as well.

Understanding Māori creation narratives provides a strong foundation to work off … I feel a sense of accomplishment teaching these ideologies with others within the military. I have noticed that a lot more people have started to support more events that have a cultural component.

The organisational processes set up to support the training are clearly having a beneficial effect. Curricula are developed by the Rūnanga (Māori advisory group), which is a shared responsibility between the Māori education officers and the advisory group. Aligned with the goal to achieve biculturalism, non-Māori are actively encouraged to apply for positions but must be confident and fluent in te reo Māori.

The learning experience

This section summarises some of the information that personnel provided about their learning experiences. Through meaningful engagement with, rather than about, diversity, both individual and organisational benefits relating to pride and identity emerged.

Individual benefits

As a result of their training, 32 respondents indicated an increase in their knowledge or ability to appreciate Māori worldview. The most popular response was that it enhanced members’ pride and their ability to ‘share the best of both worlds’. For Māori members, in particular, the training was perceived as empowering; long-serving members stated that it would have not have been imaginable to learn Māori indigenous knowledge in order to apply for leadership and instructional roles, when they first joined the military in the 1980s. For non-Māori members, the opportunity to learn and appreciate alternative views was described as greatly beneficial: it opens minds to different perspectives, encourages respectful relationships and uses different approaches to viewing problems and finding solutions across various jobs in the military.

Organisational benefits

The uniting factor is the Māori culture … you can talk about being brothers in arms but the Māori culture just takes that one step further; you are part of the same iwi and it is this aspect that opens doors for other indigenous people.

The organisational benefits resulting from the training were described by one member as ‘huge’. All members, particularly those who had been deployed overseas, supported this comment. Providing a case in point during the handover of the NZDF MCA at Defence Headquarters in Wellington, the Chief of the Defence Force (CDF) described an incident where the Māori cultural group (MCG) was instrumental in dispelling potential hostilities between the crew of a New Zealand naval vessel and a group of Papua New Guinean villagers. Obviously unsure of the reasons why a military vessel was attempting to berth in their shores, villagers brandishing weapons gestured animatedly for the ship to leave. The commander was not about to abort the mission and made an executive decision to send forward members of the MCG who performed a cultural routine to show no hostilities were intended. Later recounting the incident with crew members and the CDF it was stated that potential disaster had been avoided through using a ‘culturally appropriate approach’. Highlighting the operational advantages of ‘working well together’, one member summarised the benefits below:

(The culture) … brings people together and makes the organisation stronger, others see us in a positive light, if we can work well together ourselves, other nations are more comfortable about working with us … it opens doors. (see also Phillips & Scherr 2009)

Other benefits included: adherence to the Treaty, breaking down barriers, adding to the organisation's knowledge base, setting benchmarks for other institutions, increasing recruitment and retention rates and, as the previous comment illustrates, creating a positive public image.

Discussion

There are few examples of institutions proactively recognising the importance of the knowledge of indigenous peoples in education. The NZDF learning environment is one such example. By upholding the principles of the Treaty and redefining the organisation to reflect its shared military heritage, the NZDF is committed to serving the interests of the New Zealand government and its people. Through formal and informal measures coordinated through the Service bicultural policies, Māori indigenous knowledge is being successfully included in various NZDF contexts and has positively influenced the learning experiences of the participants in this study.

This paper has subsequently argued that the NZDF bicultural initiatives have made a significant contribution towards societal change. The findings relate to improved organisational morale and operational effectiveness, which provide a useful framework for understanding the benefits that derive from the inclusion of indigenous knowledge systems in military curricula. The benefits identified related to: improved relationships and respect; increased knowledge and understanding; and individual and institutional pride. Together, they provide sound evidence that the NZDF Māori cultural training initiatives have a beneficial effect on members’ learning experience, the organisation and biculturalism.

Themes from the data reflect members’ perceptions of the initiatives and organisational processes that have supported the training as collaborative and respectful. Instructors indicated being well supported through the wealth of knowledge that exists among the Rūnanga and support positions, while the significance of learning through the concept of whānau—in accordance with kaupapa Māori—has established respect for Māori knowledge and affirmed the importance of elders and te reo Māori in the military education process. This is a significant achievement. Meaningful engagement in a supportive non-competitive learning environment has allowed personnel to experience one of the transformative and fundamental differences in knowledge and education practices between indigenous and non-indigenous societies (Freire 2014; Grenier 1998; Bishop 1999).

Despite significant progress, evidence suggests that issues of institutional and epistemological dominance remain. In accordance with Cooper's (2012) cultural thesis concerns, issues that emerged at various points in the journey reflect a lack of understanding at the philosophical level. As one member aptly pointed out: ‘Unfortunately a lot of people don't understand or respect that; they see the spectacle and not the substance.’ Findings are perhaps influenced by reluctance on the part of the institution to affect major structural change and to fully explore alternative paradigms: ‘Māori perspectives … will never be reduced to a narrow field of military training’. Both statements suggest that the issue surrounding knowledge production is complex (Gershon 2008).

In summary, the findings indicate that a deeper understanding of Māori epistemologies and kaupapa is required at every level of the organisation. A paradigm shift also needs to occur both within and external to the NZDF, so that Māori indigenous knowledge systems are viewed as credible and legitimate sources of knowledge that exist alongside, rather than in isolation, to Western knowledge systems. The NZDF journey towards biculturalism has made a valuable contribution towards this goal.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Notes

1. Māori meeting place(s).

2. Meaning/customs (Ryan 2009, p. 136).

3. Fierce dance (Ryan 2009, p. 35).

4. Tribe or tribes.

5. Māori name for New Zealand.

6. Garrick Cooper (2012) discusses the knowledge versus culture debate, and the implications of ‘coloniality’ and multiple epistemologies.

7. Māori welcome ceremony.

8. For an understanding of how Western scientific research continues to stigmatise indigenous people, and how indigenous approaches to research differ in design, approach and methodology to Western research, refer to the works of Bishop (1994, 1999), Smith (1999b), Smith (1990), Wilson (2008) and Kovach (2012).

9. Ethical approval was gained from the New Zealand Defence Force Ethics Committee, the Australian Defence Force Ethics Committee and Charles Darwin University.

10. Concept of family.

11. Māori customs.

12. Greetings.

13. Respected elder (ex-member).