20 October 2026
Most New Zealanders know that if you want to get off the beaten track, there aren’t many places like the East Coast. First to see the sun. Stunning beaches. Home of legends: Māui the demigod who fished up the North Island, Paikea our legendary Whale Rider.
Sir Apirana Ngata helped shape the political fabric of our country. George Nepia and Nehe Milner-Skudder carved up the rugby field. Ngoi Pewhairangi gave us Poi E. Beauty and strength are part of the fabric of Ngāti Porou, our people and our whenua.
Yet logging trucks, uniform pine forests and struggling small towns can paint a different picture. Forestry in Ngāti Porou is easily framed as a David and Goliath story: international corporations, vulnerable land and Māori landowners caught in the middle.
Every story needs a villain. But this is not a simple story. It is a complex economic, environmental and policy problem built up over generations.
To understand how we move forward, we must first acknowledge how we got here, including the role of successive Crown policies in shaping our whenua and the responsibilities that come with that history
If Ngāti Porou is a body, our rivers are our lifeblood, and our whenua sustains us. We cannot remain healthy if we continue to put bandages on wounds that never properly heal.
Ngāti Porou are an industrious people. At the signing Te Tiriti o Waitangi, our people had trade routes stretching across Aotearoa and beyond. The Waiapu River and surrounding catchments sustained our communities, economy and way of life.
Over time, large areas of native forest were cleared for agriculture, driven by Government policies and economic opportunities. Erosion and sediment followed, with catastrophic consequences for our tribal fabric. Cyclone Bola in 1988 exposed how vulnerable much of our land had become.
The Crown’s response included the East Coast Forestry Project. In 1994, the Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment identified a lack of development capital, bridging finance and day-to-day cash flow as major barriers for Ngāti Porou landholders.
Pines were planted to stabilise erosion-prone land and create economic opportunity. Forestry became established across our rohe.
These interventions were intended to address real problems. But they also helped shape the land-use patterns, investment settings and economic dependencies we are now grappling with.
Today, decades after those decisions, changing land use remains far from straightforward. Crown forestry leases, the Emissions Trading Scheme, regulatory frameworks and the division of responsibilities between central and local government influence what Ngāti Porou landowners can do with their whenua.
When Cyclone Gabrielle hit, slash, erosion and flooding caused widespread destruction. Once again, national attention turned to our whenua and the question became: who is responsible?
That question is complicated because responsibility is distributed across Government, councils, landowners, forest owners, lessees, harvesting operators and licence holders.
But we cannot allow the complexity of those arrangements to become an excuse for inaction. Nor can we expect individual landowners and communities to carry the consequences of a system shaped by decisions made over generations.
If successive Crown policies helped create the land-use patterns we have today, the Crown must be part of the long-term solution.
In 2012, Te Rūnanganui o Ngāti Porou (TRONP) settled with the Crown. The settlement affirmed a commitment to enter a new era of collaboration and deliver improved outcomes from government investment in the Ngāti Porou rohe.
That commitment matters now more than ever.
Ngāti Porou collectively owns about 285,000ha of our 400,000ha traditional tribal rohe.
Our settlement relationship includes principles of partnership and giving effect to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Yet, in practice, the back-and-forth between central government and council, often without a genuine conversation about our collective future, falls well short of the partnership we were promised.
Returning land did not automatically restore the freedom to determine what happens to it.
TRONP holds settlement land subject to forestry leases entered into by the Crown. In other cases, when leases end, TRONP can be left facing clean-up costs running into millions of dollars and regulatory requirements based on plans that may no longer reflect the reality on the ground.
This is the contradiction we must confront: Ngāti Porou has a significant ownership stake in our rohe, yet our ability to determine its future is constrained by the legacy of decisions, leases and policy settings beyond our control.
A Treaty settlement cannot be meaningful if the Crown recognises our ownership but fails to work with us to unlock our whenua’s potential.
The answer is not simply to stop forestry and let the land recover through rest.
Pests have damaged our native forests. Some pine forests sit on steep, vulnerable land. Trees cannot simply be left indefinitely, and in some places there will be short-term pain from continued harvesting before the land can transition to something more appropriate.
Forestry will continue to have a place in this region. But it should be the right tree, on the right land, for the right reasons.
That requires us to look beyond the next harvest, consent and weather event. We need to consider the long-term suitability of land for forestry, native restoration, other productive land uses and economic development.
This is where the Crown’s role becomes critical. If the existing system was shaped by government intervention, then government must be prepared to help reshape it. That means aligning regulatory settings, addressing the legacy of Crown forestry arrangements, enabling
investment and supporting a transition that protects both the environment and economic future of Ngāti Porou.
Our regional and national leaders need to remember decisions affecting Ngāti Porou must be Ngāti Porou-led. For decades, decisions by Government, regulators and industry have shaped the land use we see today. TRONP, alongside our hapū and landowners, will not accept being brought into the conversation after critical decisions have been made.
This is not about excluding Government, councils or industry. It is about establishing the right relationship between those with authority, resources and regulatory responsibilities and those who hold the enduring connection to the land.
The current approach of cleaning up after the latest disaster and regulating against plans developed last century cannot continue. We need a co-ordinated programme that addresses the causes of our challenges, not simply their consequences.
TRONP has initiated a Rural Growth Partnership with Minister Bishop’s Ministry for Cities, Environment, Regions and Transport (MCERT), creating an opportunity to translate our Crown–Ngāti Porou relationship into practical action.
The partnership is an opportunity to bring the Crown, local government and Ngāti Porou together around a shared programme for the future of our rohe. It provides a pathway to connect land-use transition with environmental restoration, rural productivity, infrastructure investment and economic development.
Rather than treating forestry, erosion, housing, infrastructure and economic opportunity as separate problems, we can address their interdependencies through a long-term, place-based approach.
The Rural Growth Partnership is not a substitute for the Crown’s existing obligations or our Treaty settlement. It is an opportunity to give practical effect to the relationship already established and address challenges neither individual landowners nor fragmented government responses can solve alone.
The question is no longer whether the future of Ngāti Porou whenua needs to change. The question is whether we will work together to shape that change, or continue to respond to its consequences.
For Ngāti Porou, the answer is clear. Our whenua, our future and our mokopuna deserve a partnership that looks beyond the next disaster and political cycle.
The future of Ngāti Porou whenua cannot be decided without us. It must be shaped with us, led by us, and supported by a Crown willing to honour commitments it has already made.
20 October 2026
Most New Zealanders know that if you want to get off the beaten track, there aren’t many places like the East Coast. First to see the sun. Stunning beaches. Home of legends: Māui the demigod who fished up the North Island, Paikea our legendary Whale Rider.
Sir Apirana Ngata helped shape the political fabric of our country. George Nepia and Nehe Milner-Skudder carved up the rugby field. Ngoi Pewhairangi gave us Poi E. Beauty and strength are part of the fabric of Ngāti Porou, our people and our whenua.
Yet logging trucks, uniform pine forests and struggling small towns can paint a different picture. Forestry in Ngāti Porou is easily framed as a David and Goliath story: international corporations, vulnerable land and Māori landowners caught in the middle.
Every story needs a villain. But this is not a simple story. It is a complex economic, environmental and policy problem built up over generations.
To understand how we move forward, we must first acknowledge how we got here, including the role of successive Crown policies in shaping our whenua and the responsibilities that come with that history
If Ngāti Porou is a body, our rivers are our lifeblood, and our whenua sustains us. We cannot remain healthy if we continue to put bandages on wounds that never properly heal.
Ngāti Porou are an industrious people. At the signing Te Tiriti o Waitangi, our people had trade routes stretching across Aotearoa and beyond. The Waiapu River and surrounding catchments sustained our communities, economy and way of life.
Over time, large areas of native forest were cleared for agriculture, driven by Government policies and economic opportunities. Erosion and sediment followed, with catastrophic consequences for our tribal fabric. Cyclone Bola in 1988 exposed how vulnerable much of our land had become.
The Crown’s response included the East Coast Forestry Project. In 1994, the Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment identified a lack of development capital, bridging finance and day-to-day cash flow as major barriers for Ngāti Porou landholders.
Pines were planted to stabilise erosion-prone land and create economic opportunity. Forestry became established across our rohe.
These interventions were intended to address real problems. But they also helped shape the land-use patterns, investment settings and economic dependencies we are now grappling with.
Today, decades after those decisions, changing land use remains far from straightforward. Crown forestry leases, the Emissions Trading Scheme, regulatory frameworks and the division of responsibilities between central and local government influence what Ngāti Porou landowners can do with their whenua.
When Cyclone Gabrielle hit, slash, erosion and flooding caused widespread destruction. Once again, national attention turned to our whenua and the question became: who is responsible?
That question is complicated because responsibility is distributed across Government, councils, landowners, forest owners, lessees, harvesting operators and licence holders.
But we cannot allow the complexity of those arrangements to become an excuse for inaction. Nor can we expect individual landowners and communities to carry the consequences of a system shaped by decisions made over generations.
If successive Crown policies helped create the land-use patterns we have today, the Crown must be part of the long-term solution.
In 2012, Te Rūnanganui o Ngāti Porou (TRONP) settled with the Crown. The settlement affirmed a commitment to enter a new era of collaboration and deliver improved outcomes from government investment in the Ngāti Porou rohe.
That commitment matters now more than ever.
Ngāti Porou collectively owns about 285,000ha of our 400,000ha traditional tribal rohe.
Our settlement relationship includes principles of partnership and giving effect to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Yet, in practice, the back-and-forth between central government and council, often without a genuine conversation about our collective future, falls well short of the partnership we were promised.
Returning land did not automatically restore the freedom to determine what happens to it.
TRONP holds settlement land subject to forestry leases entered into by the Crown. In other cases, when leases end, TRONP can be left facing clean-up costs running into millions of dollars and regulatory requirements based on plans that may no longer reflect the reality on the ground.
This is the contradiction we must confront: Ngāti Porou has a significant ownership stake in our rohe, yet our ability to determine its future is constrained by the legacy of decisions, leases and policy settings beyond our control.
A Treaty settlement cannot be meaningful if the Crown recognises our ownership but fails to work with us to unlock our whenua’s potential.
The answer is not simply to stop forestry and let the land recover through rest.
Pests have damaged our native forests. Some pine forests sit on steep, vulnerable land. Trees cannot simply be left indefinitely, and in some places there will be short-term pain from continued harvesting before the land can transition to something more appropriate.
Forestry will continue to have a place in this region. But it should be the right tree, on the right land, for the right reasons.
That requires us to look beyond the next harvest, consent and weather event. We need to consider the long-term suitability of land for forestry, native restoration, other productive land uses and economic development.
This is where the Crown’s role becomes critical. If the existing system was shaped by government intervention, then government must be prepared to help reshape it. That means aligning regulatory settings, addressing the legacy of Crown forestry arrangements, enabling
investment and supporting a transition that protects both the environment and economic future of Ngāti Porou.
Our regional and national leaders need to remember decisions affecting Ngāti Porou must be Ngāti Porou-led. For decades, decisions by Government, regulators and industry have shaped the land use we see today. TRONP, alongside our hapū and landowners, will not accept being brought into the conversation after critical decisions have been made.
This is not about excluding Government, councils or industry. It is about establishing the right relationship between those with authority, resources and regulatory responsibilities and those who hold the enduring connection to the land.
The current approach of cleaning up after the latest disaster and regulating against plans developed last century cannot continue. We need a co-ordinated programme that addresses the causes of our challenges, not simply their consequences.
TRONP has initiated a Rural Growth Partnership with Minister Bishop’s Ministry for Cities, Environment, Regions and Transport (MCERT), creating an opportunity to translate our Crown–Ngāti Porou relationship into practical action.
The partnership is an opportunity to bring the Crown, local government and Ngāti Porou together around a shared programme for the future of our rohe. It provides a pathway to connect land-use transition with environmental restoration, rural productivity, infrastructure investment and economic development.
Rather than treating forestry, erosion, housing, infrastructure and economic opportunity as separate problems, we can address their interdependencies through a long-term, place-based approach.
The Rural Growth Partnership is not a substitute for the Crown’s existing obligations or our Treaty settlement. It is an opportunity to give practical effect to the relationship already established and address challenges neither individual landowners nor fragmented government responses can solve alone.
The question is no longer whether the future of Ngāti Porou whenua needs to change. The question is whether we will work together to shape that change, or continue to respond to its consequences.
For Ngāti Porou, the answer is clear. Our whenua, our future and our mokopuna deserve a partnership that looks beyond the next disaster and political cycle.
The future of Ngāti Porou whenua cannot be decided without us. It must be shaped with us, led by us, and supported by a Crown willing to honour commitments it has already made.
20 October 2026
Most New Zealanders know that if you want to get off the beaten track, there aren’t many places like the East Coast. First to see the sun. Stunning beaches. Home of legends: Māui the demigod who fished up the North Island, Paikea our legendary Whale Rider.
Sir Apirana Ngata helped shape the political fabric of our country. George Nepia and Nehe Milner-Skudder carved up the rugby field. Ngoi Pewhairangi gave us Poi E. Beauty and strength are part of the fabric of Ngāti Porou, our people and our whenua.
Yet logging trucks, uniform pine forests and struggling small towns can paint a different picture. Forestry in Ngāti Porou is easily framed as a David and Goliath story: international corporations, vulnerable land and Māori landowners caught in the middle.
Every story needs a villain. But this is not a simple story. It is a complex economic, environmental and policy problem built up over generations.
To understand how we move forward, we must first acknowledge how we got here, including the role of successive Crown policies in shaping our whenua and the responsibilities that come with that history
If Ngāti Porou is a body, our rivers are our lifeblood, and our whenua sustains us. We cannot remain healthy if we continue to put bandages on wounds that never properly heal.
Ngāti Porou are an industrious people. At the signing Te Tiriti o Waitangi, our people had trade routes stretching across Aotearoa and beyond. The Waiapu River and surrounding catchments sustained our communities, economy and way of life.
Over time, large areas of native forest were cleared for agriculture, driven by Government policies and economic opportunities. Erosion and sediment followed, with catastrophic consequences for our tribal fabric. Cyclone Bola in 1988 exposed how vulnerable much of our land had become.
The Crown’s response included the East Coast Forestry Project. In 1994, the Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment identified a lack of development capital, bridging finance and day-to-day cash flow as major barriers for Ngāti Porou landholders.
Pines were planted to stabilise erosion-prone land and create economic opportunity. Forestry became established across our rohe.
These interventions were intended to address real problems. But they also helped shape the land-use patterns, investment settings and economic dependencies we are now grappling with.
Today, decades after those decisions, changing land use remains far from straightforward. Crown forestry leases, the Emissions Trading Scheme, regulatory frameworks and the division of responsibilities between central and local government influence what Ngāti Porou landowners can do with their whenua.
When Cyclone Gabrielle hit, slash, erosion and flooding caused widespread destruction. Once again, national attention turned to our whenua and the question became: who is responsible?
That question is complicated because responsibility is distributed across Government, councils, landowners, forest owners, lessees, harvesting operators and licence holders.
But we cannot allow the complexity of those arrangements to become an excuse for inaction. Nor can we expect individual landowners and communities to carry the consequences of a system shaped by decisions made over generations.
If successive Crown policies helped create the land-use patterns we have today, the Crown must be part of the long-term solution.
In 2012, Te Rūnanganui o Ngāti Porou (TRONP) settled with the Crown. The settlement affirmed a commitment to enter a new era of collaboration and deliver improved outcomes from government investment in the Ngāti Porou rohe.
That commitment matters now more than ever.
Ngāti Porou collectively owns about 285,000ha of our 400,000ha traditional tribal rohe.
Our settlement relationship includes principles of partnership and giving effect to Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Yet, in practice, the back-and-forth between central government and council, often without a genuine conversation about our collective future, falls well short of the partnership we were promised.
Returning land did not automatically restore the freedom to determine what happens to it.
TRONP holds settlement land subject to forestry leases entered into by the Crown. In other cases, when leases end, TRONP can be left facing clean-up costs running into millions of dollars and regulatory requirements based on plans that may no longer reflect the reality on the ground.
This is the contradiction we must confront: Ngāti Porou has a significant ownership stake in our rohe, yet our ability to determine its future is constrained by the legacy of decisions, leases and policy settings beyond our control.
A Treaty settlement cannot be meaningful if the Crown recognises our ownership but fails to work with us to unlock our whenua’s potential.
The answer is not simply to stop forestry and let the land recover through rest.
Pests have damaged our native forests. Some pine forests sit on steep, vulnerable land. Trees cannot simply be left indefinitely, and in some places there will be short-term pain from continued harvesting before the land can transition to something more appropriate.
Forestry will continue to have a place in this region. But it should be the right tree, on the right land, for the right reasons.
That requires us to look beyond the next harvest, consent and weather event. We need to consider the long-term suitability of land for forestry, native restoration, other productive land uses and economic development.
This is where the Crown’s role becomes critical. If the existing system was shaped by government intervention, then government must be prepared to help reshape it. That means aligning regulatory settings, addressing the legacy of Crown forestry arrangements, enabling
investment and supporting a transition that protects both the environment and economic future of Ngāti Porou.
Our regional and national leaders need to remember decisions affecting Ngāti Porou must be Ngāti Porou-led. For decades, decisions by Government, regulators and industry have shaped the land use we see today. TRONP, alongside our hapū and landowners, will not accept being brought into the conversation after critical decisions have been made.
This is not about excluding Government, councils or industry. It is about establishing the right relationship between those with authority, resources and regulatory responsibilities and those who hold the enduring connection to the land.
The current approach of cleaning up after the latest disaster and regulating against plans developed last century cannot continue. We need a co-ordinated programme that addresses the causes of our challenges, not simply their consequences.
TRONP has initiated a Rural Growth Partnership with Minister Bishop’s Ministry for Cities, Environment, Regions and Transport (MCERT), creating an opportunity to translate our Crown–Ngāti Porou relationship into practical action.
The partnership is an opportunity to bring the Crown, local government and Ngāti Porou together around a shared programme for the future of our rohe. It provides a pathway to connect land-use transition with environmental restoration, rural productivity, infrastructure investment and economic development.
Rather than treating forestry, erosion, housing, infrastructure and economic opportunity as separate problems, we can address their interdependencies through a long-term, place-based approach.
The Rural Growth Partnership is not a substitute for the Crown’s existing obligations or our Treaty settlement. It is an opportunity to give practical effect to the relationship already established and address challenges neither individual landowners nor fragmented government responses can solve alone.
The question is no longer whether the future of Ngāti Porou whenua needs to change. The question is whether we will work together to shape that change, or continue to respond to its consequences.
For Ngāti Porou, the answer is clear. Our whenua, our future and our mokopuna deserve a partnership that looks beyond the next disaster and political cycle.
The future of Ngāti Porou whenua cannot be decided without us. It must be shaped with us, led by us, and supported by a Crown willing to honour commitments it has already made.
