OPINION: Rodney Hide.
Sitting through karakia I am invariably reminded of the book of Daniel in which faithful Israelites found themselves serving in the courts of pagan Babylon. They showed respect to the authorities, excelled in their duties, and contributed to the empire’s good order. Yet when the king’s table demanded compromise with idolatry or when the law forbade prayer to the true God, Daniel and his companions drew a firm line. They would not bow.
That ancient precedent speaks directly to Christians in today’s New Zealand, where state institutions are steadily importing elements of pre-colonial Māori cosmology into schools, official ceremonies, and the public square.
It is a peculiar development because the Maori and English who founded New Zealand were Christian. By 1845 half of all Maori were attending Christian services with claims that 90% of Māori had converted by 1852. The Treaty era and subsequent missions reflected a meeting of peoples who, despite deep cultural differences, largely accepted the Christian worldview. That shared foundation helped shape a nation of ordered liberty.
Today, secularism has hollowed out explicit Christianity, creating a spiritual vacuum that Māori spiritual concepts are filling under the banner of biculturalism. We need a ritual and so we pop in Maori prayer and protocol. It fills the gap and appears inclusive. But this is no neutral enrichment. It presents a direct challenge to the First and Second Commandments: “You shall have no other gods before me” and “You shall not make for yourself an idol.”
Mana, Modern Chiefs, and Unaccountable Power
The resulting friction is increasingly apparent. Central to this friction is “mana” — inherited and achieved spiritual prestige that traditionally placed tribal leaders beyond casual challenge. Protecting mana drove behaviour and demanded reciprocity. In contemporary politics and business, we see echoes of this: figures shielded by cultural deference who operate with an aura of chiefly authority that resists scrutiny. Questioning them risks being framed as cultural disrespect rather than legitimate democratic accountability.
We see this tension evident in the iwi corporates and the multitude of Maori trusts enriched with taxpayer cash and legal advantage. They are unaccountable and to question them is to cross the cultural line.
This sits uneasily with Christian teaching on authority. Scripture demands that all power be exercised with humility and held accountable to transcendent law. New Zealand’s parliamentary tradition, itself influenced by biblical limits on kingship, assumes open debate and the right to criticise without fear of spiritual taboo. When mana-based status effectively elevates some voices above challenge, it imports a tribal hierarchy into institutions meant to serve all citizens equally.
We had a recent demonstration with Hon Shane Jones lashing journalists questioning his travel expenses. To him they were trying to “malign the Matua’s name” .
Utu Versus Grace
Pre-colonial ethics revolved around “utu” — restoring balance through equivalent return, whether gift or grievance. Forgiveness was secondary to equilibrium and the preservation of mana. Christianity subverts this with radical grace: the Cross settles the ultimate debt, freeing individuals to forgive as they have been forgiven. Repentance and personal transformation replace ritual balance.
Public policy and education increasingly take us back to pagan times. Treaty settlements go on forever and there is no forgiveness for the white children who in school must take on the supposed sins of their forefathers. There is no trial, no defence, and no forgiveness. And the unchallenged sins of the forefathers travel down through the generations without end.
Karakia, Atua, and the Commandments in Schools
The tension is sharpest in education. “Karakia” opening school days or events are downplayed as “cultural mindfulness.” But whenever I check I find they invoke specific “atua” — immanent spiritual powers tied to the “whakapapa” lineage descending from Ranginui and Papatūānuku. For a Christian child, this is not neutral poetry. It directly engages the First Commandment’s prohibition against other gods and the Second’s warning against idols.
Daniel’s friends refused to bow to Nebuchadnezzar’s image even under threat of death. Modern Christian parents face a softer but real pressure: participate or be marked as divisive. The state has no business compelling children into spiritual practices that violate their family’s faith. Respect for Māori culture—its art, history, and “manaakitanga” — does not require participation in its cosmology.
A Call for Principled Pluralism
New Zealand’s institutions should not replace one spiritual monopoly with another. Secularism’s neutrality was always a fiction; the vacuum is now being filled. Christians, like Daniel in Babylon, can serve faithfully, show courtesy, and contribute to the common good while refusing to compromise core allegiance. Families must teach children to stand respectfully yet pray silently to the God of Scripture. Pastors and leaders should articulate these distinctions clearly rather than acquiesce for the sake of social harmony.
The nation was not built on animism and tribal reciprocity. Its strengths — rule of law, individual rights, and capacity for forgiveness — drew deeply from Christian soil. Importing a rival metaphysical system wholesale into public life, while marginalising the historic faith, serves neither Māori nor non-Maori well. It breeds quiet resentment and weakens the shared public square.
Our schools should pursue cultural appreciation without spiritual compulsion. Christians must respond with clarity, courage, and the same steadfastness Daniel showed in Babylon. The Commandments have not changed. Neither has the God who gave them.
