Just Te Tiriti. No Democracy, No Capitalism: A Hypothetical Future
If Te Tiriti were truly at the center of power, then no one should be excluded from questioning it, regardless of the governing model. Below a hypothetical example of how it would work.
With Waitangi Day 2025 behind us—along with the media frenzy, political theatre, and the usual debates over who spoke, who didn’t, who was invited, and whose mic got cut—I want to have a more practical conversation about Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
Rather than circling the same arguments about translations, historical grievances, and symbolic gestures, let’s talk about what it would actually take for Te Tiriti to hold real power. What if it wasn’t just referenced in speeches but became the foundation of governance? If we stripped away democracy, capitalism, and liberalism, and rebuilt a system centred on Te Tiriti, what would that look like? Who governs? Who decides? How do taxes, land, and resources function in this model?
If we’re serious about Te Tiriti, these are the questions we need to ask.
Does Te Tiriti Have Any Teeth?
I don’t think Te Tiriti does—not in any meaningful, consistent sense.
Every time we try to talk about it, the conversation collapses into who is allowed to have an opinion, how we define its principles, and the same cycles of debate over historical grievances, settlement disputes, and the renaming of cities and government agencies. We continually circle back and forth, failing to tackle the more profound question: what does Te Tiriti truly signify for contemporary governance?
Te Tiriti’s role in governance has become a political minefield—where only certain voices are considered legitimate, and others are dismissed. I reject that. If we’re serious about upholding Te Tiriti, it can’t just be something invoked by a few while off-limits to debate for the many.
Right now, it’s largely performative—used in speeches, referenced selectively in policy, and debated behind closed doors in iwi meetings and courtrooms. But if Te Tiriti is to be more than just a symbolic framework, it needs to be something we all engage with, challenge, and integrate into the way we govern ourselves.
So, let’s do a brief experiment—let’s imagine what that might actually look like in practice.
But first, one thing about presentism.
One challenge in discussing Te Tiriti is presentism—judging historical agreements by today’s moral, social, or political standards and context. But if we only critique the past, we risk avoiding the harder question: what does Te Tiriti look like in 2025 and beyond?
Some might argue that this conversation has already happened—that Matike Mai Aotearoa1 has outlined serious and robust alternatives to our current system. And they have. The report offers six models for governance that fully centre Te Tiriti. But outside of legal and academic spaces, has this debate really been had? How useful are their recommendations and models? Matike Mai is far from answering a lot of questions.
If we’re serious about Te Tiriti having real power, we need to move these conversations out of specialist spaces and into the national debate.
So, let’s do that. For the sake of argument, let's assume that democracy, capitalism, and liberalism have disappeared due to popular demand, and we have collectively decided to construct a governance model that is fully centred around Te Tiriti. Even then, it still has to function in 2025, with today’s population, complexities, and geopolitical realities.
A governance model that made sense in 1840 cannot simply be copy-pasted onto a country of five million people, with a diverse, multi-ethnic population, urbanized economies (capitalist or otherwise), and globalized trade. If Te Tiriti is to hold real power, we have to do more than invoke its principles or use it to settle historical grievances—we have to visualize what it actually looks like in practice.
A Thought Experiment: What If Te Tiriti Was the Foundation of Power?
Let’s assume for a moment that we are actually ready to put Te Tiriti at the centre of our governing model—not just as a symbolic reference, selectively invoked when convenient, but as the actual foundation of power.
This isn’t just a theoretical exercise. Māori legal thinkers and political leaders have already explored what Treaty-based governance could look like. The Matike Mai Aotearoa report, developed through 252 nationwide hui, written submissions, and clear terms of reference, proposes six governance models—ranging from full Māori self-determination (tino rangatiratanga) to co-governance structures where Māori and the Crown operate in parallel spheres.
The core idea? The Westminster system is not the only way to govern Aotearoa. If we take Te Tiriti seriously, we have to rethink power itself—who holds it, how it’s structured, and what governance looks like beyond a Western framework.
Following Matike Mai's recommendations, let's set aside democracy, liberalism, and capitalism for the purpose of argument. Not because I think that’s necessarily the right or wrong thing to do—or even possible—but because if we’re talking about upholding Te Tiriti in its fullest sense, then we have to acknowledge that it was never designed to fit within those systems. It was a negotiated agreement between two sovereign entities that predates modern New Zealand governance.
Matike Mai proposes a system where power is divided into three spheres:
The Rangatiratanga Sphere—Where Māori make decisions for Māori.
The Kāwanatanga Sphere—Where the Crown makes decisions for its people.
The Relational Sphere—Where they govern together as equals, requiring a model based on consensus and negotiation.
So what does that actually look like in practice?
First, What Does Te Tiriti Say?
Before we get into what a Treaty-based governing model would look like, let’s be clear on what Te Tiriti actually says—and for the sake of this argument, let’s assume that we have settled the translation controversy and are accepting the Māori version.
Article 1 establishes kāwanatanga—a form of governance for the Crown, but not full sovereignty. Māori never ceded full control over their lands or people. There can be little doubt that the chiefs who signed the Treaty expected to enter into some kind of partnership and power-sharing arrangement in the new system.
Article 2 affirms tino rangatiratanga—Māori authority over their own lands, resources, and taonga remains intact. Māori also agreed to give the Crown the right to buy their land if they wished to sell it.
Article 3 guarantees oritetanga—Māori were to have equal rights and protections as British subjects. In the Māori text, the Crown reassured that Māori would have the Queen's protection and all rights (tikanga) accorded to British subjects.
If we take this at face value, it means that New Zealand’s governance structure, in this hypothesis, would divide power equally between the Crown and Māori authorities. It means Māori should have retained decision-making power over their own lands and people, and the Crown’s role should have been something more like an administrator, rather than the absolute sovereign power it became.
A Treaty-Based Governance Model Without Democracy, Liberalism, or Capitalism
If the Westminster system doesn’t work for a governance model fully centered on Te Tiriti, then we have to ask: What replaces it? If we remove democracy as majority rule, governance cannot be based on elections, political parties, or parliamentary votes. Instead, power would flow from tino rangatiratanga, meaning decision-making would be built around iwi and hapū structures.
But what does that actually mean for everyone else?
Instead of a centralized national government, power would be split between two spheres—the Crown’s role reduced to an administrative function (handling international relations and trade), while iwi and hapū exercise full decision-making authority over their own affairs.
Instead of voting and elected representatives, governance would follow tikanga Māori—built on whakapapa, utu, and manaakitanga rather than individual political rights. Decisions would be made through consensus and negotiation, not simple majority rule. But does this mean only whakapapa Māori could be political leaders in Aotearoa?
Instead of private land ownership, whenua would be collectively stewarded rather than bought and sold like in capitalism. Resources—water, fisheries, and forests—would be controlled under kaitiakitanga, ensuring they are managed not for profit but for future generations. But would this mean all private property is devolved to iwi management?
Instead of a centralized tax system, different iwi and hapū could establish their own revenue models, collecting and distributing resources in ways that align with their governance structures. But then who funds national infrastructure—transport, roads, and public services?
Would this system function in practice? Would non-Māori accept it? Would migrants who came to Aotearoa for economic opportunities support a system that removes private property and democracy? Would it collapse under the weight of modern governance complexities?
I don’t have the answers. But if we are serious about fully upholding Te Tiriti, these are the kinds of questions we need to be asking—not just in theory, but in real, tangible ways.
Land and Taxes—Where the Rubber Hits the Road
Let’s assume we don’t attempt to settle the issue of lost and stolen land for this exercise. Instead, we work with the land, dwellings, and private property structures as they exist today. But that raises a fundamental question: do we retain the idea of private property at all? This, for me, is where the rubber hits the road. I’m want to unpack it and learn how to think about it differently. If you have expertise in private property law or Māori land law, I’d love to hear your perspective.
If tino rangatiratanga (Māori authority, self-determination, and political sovereignty) is truly upheld, then iwi and hapū need financial autonomy. Does that mean Māori collect their own taxes? Would there be a separate tax system for Māori governance structures and another for non-Māori under the Crown? Would taxes be redistributed across regions, or would iwi be responsible for funding their own infrastructure and services? Does that mean two parallel road systems? Two healthcare structures?
The Matike Mai Aotearoa report acknowledges that economic structures would need to shift significantly in a Treaty-centred governance model. Some of its proposed frameworks suggest Māori-controlled fiscal systems, while others envision Crown-Māori joint financial governance. But these discussions remain largely theoretical. When you break it down practically, the idea of a fully Treaty-based economy starts to hit structural limits.
If a Treaty-based model were ever to be implemented in practice, we would need to grapple with not just the high-level principles but the day-to-day realities of running a country in 2025—with existing population demographics, infrastructure, and economic dependencies.
The most challenging aspect is determining how to actually finance this. Would it mean tax increases to 60% and a strict 50-50 split between Māori and non-Māori governance? Would that be politically viable? Economically functional? Fair? I’m not even sure these are the right questions, and I definitely don’t have answers. I’m not an economist or a lawyer, so if anyone reading this has thoughts on how a Treaty-based tax system would work, I want to hear them.
Because if we were to truly centre Te Tiriti in governance, we wouldn’t just be talking about co-governance models or Treaty settlements—we would be talking about an entirely different economic and political structure for Aotearoa.
So what does that look like? How do we make it work practically? Is it even doable in our current context, regardless of who is the sovereign?
Where Does This Leave Us?
If Te Tiriti is to be more than a symbolic gesture, it must be enforceable, scrutinized, and built into the fabric of governance in practical, implementable ways. The Matike Mai Aotearoa report has already laid out possible pathways for constitutional transformation. But reports don’t create political change—public debate does.
So, are we actually ready for Te Tiriti to be the foundation of governance? Are we willing to grapple with the trade-offs, the power shifts, the real-life complexities? Or are we more comfortable keeping the Treaty as an ideal—referenced when convenient, but never fully realized?
Because if we’re not ready to engage with these questions, then maybe we’re not actually serious about Te Tiriti having real power at all. And that, in itself, is a conversation worth having.
This is a hard topic, and I approach it—as always—with respect, humility, and cultural awareness. If you have answers—or more questions—I’d love to hear them.
Matike Mai Aotearoa, the Independent Working Group (the Group) on Constitutional Transformation, was first promoted at a meeting of the Iwi Chairs’ Forum (the Forum) in 2010. The Terms of Reference given to the Working Group were deliberately broad—
“To develop and implement a model for an inclusive Constitution for Aotearoa based on tikanga and kawa, He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Niu Tireni of 1835, Te Tiriti o Waitangi of 1840, and other indigenous human rights instruments that enjoy a wide degree of international recognition.”
I would argue the original spirit of the treaty as implemented would look something like this.
The treaty I would argue was largely an agreement of convenience. The Māori can formalise their trade with the British, the British can formalise their presence in Aotearoa/NZ.
In light of this, commerce and trade are the way forward. Māori get to harness the economic opportunities of being part of the Anglo world, Pakeha can simply continue with existing economic opportunities.
This does require maintaining some form of Anglo constitutional arrangement. The problem with the current system is simply that the central government has too much power/ we’re too dependent on them. There are real opportunities here for iwi groups to fill that gap and provide more locally appropriate solutions.
Love to add to my thinking, thanks for this. Will keep an eye on comments for any experts who respond to your inquiry