You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone today with a bad word to say about the Māori Wardens. Kindness, mana, and community service are what most people associate with them.
So it might come as a surprise to learn that in the 1970s, Māori Wardens were likened to Northern Ireland’s “B Special Force”, and their work described as a form of apartheid.
As a result, the wardens were nearly wiped out. Dismissed by the government of the day as discriminatory relics of a bygone era.
Mātua Peter Walden, many-time president of the New Zealand Māori Wardens Association, was there to see it happen.
“The government tried to get rid of us,” Walden explains, “but the people wanted the wardens.”
In the latest episode of RNZ’s podcast Hi Viz Manaaki: Māori Wardens, hosts Murdoch Ngahau and Dr Amber Hammill dig into the remarkable history of NgāWātene Māori.
A movement older than the police
To understand where the Māori Wardens came from, you need to go way back. Kōrero of the wardens’ founding differ in different regions, but most people, including Peter Walden, trace their roots to 1858, when Pōtatau Te Wherowhero was chosen as the first Māori King.
“There was no Tūrangawaewae then, and his marae was around opposite Taupiri mountain.
“So he went home and he appointed specific people to specific roles so he could build the kingship and manage it properly. The first role he appointed was pirihimana.”
The word “pirihimana” is a transliteration of “police”, but their creation pre-dates the establishment of the New Zealand Police as a national force by decades, and any warden today will tell you wardens and police are very different institutions.

“They were to look after the good people, the good Māori,” Walden explains.
The rise of urban Māori – and the wardens who followed
Until the mid-20th century, most Māori lived close to their marae.
Wardens were usually someone you knew and were related to. But between 1945 and 1966, with rapid Māori urban migration, things had to change.
Recognising the danger of cultural disconnection, Princess TePuea Hērangi pushed the Māori Wardens to become the cultural glue holding urban communities together.
Peter Walden was among that first generation of urban wardens operating in the 1950s.
“There were 500 houses built in Tītahi Bay by prefab,” he remembers.
“The first people into them didn’t have anything. No furniture, no money, no nothing. I remember taking a Māori fella to his new state house and he didn’t have anything, so I took him to the dairy down on brewery street corner … and said, ‘give him what he wants and let me know the amount’.
“And six months later, he came to me and said ‘Peter I got a job. I got some money for you’ and he paid me back what he owed me. That’s what we did.”
The alcohol question
Ask anyone over a certain age about the work of the Māori Wardens, and chances are they’ll mention alcohol.
In 1951, the Wardens were given formal powers under the liquor laws: They could confiscate alcohol on marae and remove intoxicated Māori from licensed premises, and take car keys from Māori they suspected of being intoxicated.
Critics debate whether these powers reflected a problematic notion that alcoholism was a uniquely Māori problem, but Peter Walden doesn’t deny alcohol abuse was a challenge.
“In the 60s and the 50s the flagon era was the worst,” he says. “People would take home a crate with six flagons. They didn’t have any furniture in the State house, so they sat on the box the flagons were in.”
But at the same time, he says context is key. “They were no longer within the environment of their iwi, their whakapapa, their whole holistic empire. They were just living day to day.”
Walden tells the story of helping a man who was struggling with alcohol avoid eviction: “I said to him, ‘you get one jug when you go to the pub on Thursday nights — no more’.
“I told his mates about it, and when he went to get a second jug a big brown hand came over his hand and said ‘the man said one bro’.”
The Wardens’ near-death experience
By the early 1970s, a global movement was challenging racism and colonialism. In Aotearoa, Māori activism was surging. The Waitangi Tribunal was in development. The United Nations conventions against racial discrimination were being signed.
In that context, aspects of how the Māori Wardens operated were causing unease. Especially their special legal powers which could only be enforced against Māori.
“So they tried to get rid of us,” Walden says.
In 1974, the Māori Affairs Minister, Matiu Rata, cancelled all Warden warrants. Instead of life tenure, new appointments would last three years and had to be approved by committees – which, by design or dysfunction, hardly ever met.
Warden numbers collapsed. From 1400 in 1971, they dropped to just 321 by 1979.
“We were definitely going to be wiped out,” Walden says.
The comeback
In 1979, at a national Māori Wardens conference, a resolution was passed: The re-establish the New Zealand Māori Wardens Association as an independent, Māori-run body. Mātua Peter Walden was elected president unanimously.
“I didn’t go there to become president,” he chuckles. “I only went to say hello.”
Walden got to work writing a new constitution. Local branches regained control. Communities pushed to get their Wardens re-warranted.
And with the election of the National government and new Māori Affairs Minister Ben Couch, who Walden says was far more sympathetic, funding increased. The Wardens were back.
“The principle of a Māori Warden is quite simple: You are there because the people want you,” Walden says. “All through that [1970s] period, the people wanted the wardens, and they needed them.”
The future
The law that governs Māori Wardens today, the Māori Community Development Act, was passed in 1962. It’s never been updated.
This means the same legal powers that created conflict in the 1970s still exist, and there is widespread agreement that it should be changed.
However, the question of what should replace the legislation is not at all clear.
Should they continue to receive warrants from the Minister for Māori Affairs? Should they be paid for their services, or remain strictly voluntary?
rnz.co.nz