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This is an iHeart podcast. Guaranteed Human. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Aaron Menke. Listener discretion advised. There was no easy solution. As Te Fuero Fuero received reports about attacks on his Maori allies in the coastal town of Waitara, he knew his options were extremely limited. For nearly two years he had walked a meticulously diplomatic line with his immensely powerful adversaries. But By March of 1860, tensions had boiled over due to a complex series of deals, betrayals and armed conflicts. And although Te Fuero Fuero likely got little amusement from it, he surely recognized the parallels to the ill fated military campaign he had led 40 years prior. Because just like that pivotal point of the Musket wars, this risky battle was once again based in the Taranaki region of New Zealand's North Island. However, while the location was basically the same, many other elements had changed. At this point, Te Fuera Fuera was not merely the Rangatira or chief of multiple hap or sub tribes, as well as the overall leader of the Waikatu Iwi or tribe. He was also the first Maori king to have ever been crowned. Furthermore, unlike in his warrior heyday, his opponents were no longer rival tribes and chieftains, but European settler militias, the colonial government Queen Victoria had installed in Auckland and the British monarchy itself. The stakes were incredibly high and the sides were exceedingly uneven. On the colonial side, in addition to locally based militias, 3,500 Imperial soldiers were reportedly directed from Australia to Taranaki. Most sources peg Maori defensive forces as varying between several hundred to 1500 at most. The troops sent by the Victorian government not only vastly outnumbered their Maori opponents, they also had far superior firepower. This included an abundance of individual muskets and rifles, plus, if Maori scouts reports were accurate, the support of the Royal Australian Navy. What was Te Fuero Fuero to do directly opposing the British Crown and its proxies and could escalate the conflict into a full blown war. In addition to obviously causing bloodshed, such large scale violence could alienate his allies, give further ammunition to his rivals and destroy collective Maori power. But if Te Fuero Fuero did nothing, there would still likely be ample bloodshed. And he might alienate numerous Maori factions while undermining his authority by coming off as an ineffectual leader. To make Te Fuer Fuero's predicament even harder, he was by this point quite ill and apparently unable to leave his PA or fortified village once again with his life, his tribe's fortunes and New Zealand's Hierarchy all hanging in the balance, Te Fuero Fuero had to choose a path forward. Who would have thought that the days decades earlier of him single handedly fighting off dozens of enemies would have been so much easier? I'm Dana Schwartz and this is Noble Blood. The process of creating a Maori monarchy is fascinating due to how it bridged cultures, spawned conflict, and elevated a king who initially didn't even want to be king. So in many ways, part two of our story is actually about the Maori king movement, a story that highlights the ultimate first king, Te Fuero Fuero, but also the work of several influential kingmakers. Fascinatingly, the first of these kingmakers, Tamihana Te Roparaha, was the son of Te Fuero, Fuero's former rival, Te Roparaha, the other main formidable chief we had met in part one. His son Tamihana was by most accounts a clever one worldly leader who learned a great deal about Maori and New Zealand history from his renowned warrior father. To quickly recap some significant events that are relevant to his later efforts, Polynesians first voyaged to New Zealand via canoe around 1250 and began settling in greater numbers by about 1350. These hardy explorers formed communities that eventually developed distinct Maori traditions and social structures. Centuries later, European sailors visited the grouping of over 600 islands, and the related etymology of New Zealand provides some insight into the seeds of chaos that eventually sprouted into political upheaval and a transcontinental battle over Maori rights and autonomy. In 1642, Dutch explorer Abel Tesman spotted the main north and south islands, and despite him supposedly never venturing ashore during that journey, cartographers back in the Netherlands who learned of his quote unquote discovery went ahead and named the whole island, grouping Nova Zealandia after a Dutch province. It's not as if Maori individuals didn't already have names for their chosen homelands. The Maori appellation Aortiaroa, which now often is used interchangeably with New Zealand in reference to the country, has origins dating back to those first Polynesian canoes. However, Aotearoa was purportedly only used by Maori individuals to refer to the north island, while the south island had other names. All to say, while Maori tribes shared countless cultural attributes, there's little evidence that they had a firm concept of being part of one collective nation, or at least not in the same sense as many Western countries at that time. Evidently, the name New Zealand was used fairly commonly by European colonists and even some Maori groups during Tamehana's lifetime. This effectively underlined the complicated and often awkward dynamics of the island's 19th century power structures. This was especially apparent in the somewhat haphazard Declaration of Independence of New Zealand in 1835. 34 Northern Chiefs signed the document as the United Tribes of New Zealand along with the Crown's chosen British Resident at the time. But as quite a few scholars argue, the declaration was less a momentous act of revolution and more a self aggrandizing move by the British Resident and a relatively knee jerk response to a commercial shipping issue relating to proper flag usage. Historians and writers seem to almost universally agree that the Declaration of Independence was actually far less consequential than the Treaty of vetangi that came five years later. This 1840 agreement was the result of many northern chiefs wanting protection from possible French annexation and agents of the British Crown happily assisted by drafting a deal that greatly increased British authority over New Zealand. Specifically, that treaty contained three paradigm shifting articles. It essentially gave governmental oversight of New Zealand to the Queen of England. Victoria gave the British Crown the exclusive right to purchase Mori land and in return gave Mori people the protection and rights of of British citizens. As Tamihana ostensibly surmised, and as the last 186 years of subsequent history have confirmed, those provisions are a whole lot to unpack. The Treaty of Waitangi has long been the subject of immense legal debate, partly due to the two different versions that the British Consul circulated, one written in English and the other written in Maori, which as you can probably guess, led to crucial discrepancies in meaning. Although some accounts attribute this to intentional deception on the part of the British, more in depth, modern scholarship argue that the British missionary charged with translating the treaty actually did do a pretty thoughtful job. But due to vast societal differences, such as one side having a long history of written contracts and the other operating almost entirely on oral and verbal agreements, there were simply no direct or ideal translations available in certain cases. For example, as many historians have noted, the English version of the treaty arguably hailed handed complete sovereignty over to the British Crown, while the Maori version seemed to create what many north island chiefs may have interpreted as a system in which they would share power with an incoming governor appointed by Queen Victoria. As you might imagine, the Treaty of Waitangi incited rampant debate among Maori tribal leaders. Many didn't sign it, including Te Fuero. Fuero Te Roparaha did, supposedly thinking it guaranteed him his own domain. But he soon learned a harsh lesson after the colonial government tried to imprison him over a land disagreement in 1843, leading to what's known as the Bairo affray. This violent skirmish reportedly had a big impact on Te Rouparaha's son. He recognized that the more abstract sovereignty disagreements would certainly continue to create issues. But the question of land rights was seemingly the most pressing problem. As numerous scholars point out these the Maori did not historically share the same notions as the British in terms of owning land in perpetuity. So the Crown attempting to buy huge swaths and control all land purchasing rights in New Zealand was a rude awakening. Unsurprisingly, British officials aggressively pursued the issue, while Queen Victoria eventually dispatched an edict in 1846 that all land not actively occupied by Maori tribes automatically belonged to the Crown. Like his elders, Tamehana realized that by being separated from their lands, his people were losing their freedoms, livelihoods and ways of life. In Tamehana's mind, the tribes needed a better strategy and better leverage, which required a better understanding of what they were up against. So in an impressively proactive move in 1850, he sailed to meet Queen Victoria in person to see her monarchy in action. He seemingly kept things cordial while there, but his gears must have been turning because by the end of his trip he'd reached a clear conclusion. To deal with a monarch, the Maori needed a monarch of their own. Tamihana returned to New Zealand eager to get a monarchy started. According to multiple accounts, he had plenty of willing listeners since most Maori tribes were gravely concerned about holding onto their lands and traditions, especially considering Britain's colonial tactics. While the Crown obviously had ample military might at their disposal, economic pressure was plenty effective as an initial motivator. Many chiefs reportedly felt compelled to sell land to the British for a range of interconnected reasons, including supporting those in their sub tribes who had become impoverished because of foreign born infectious diseases and changing laws that favored outsiders of predominantly European descent. However, despite all of these collective grievances, it was tough for Tamihana to convince many tribe chiefs of the value of elevating a single Maori king. For one thing, there were still so many tribal rivalries, even just on the north island where Tamihana focused his efforts. Geography was another issue. Tribes were spread across the north island and the amount of rugged terrain between them meant that traveling by horseback to communicate and coordinate took considerable time and effort. Tamihana was determined, as were other like minded early backers of the monarchy plan, who collectively became known as the Kingitanga, or Maori King Movement. The group gained momentum by resurrecting the tradition of holding runanga, or large war councils. Some of these councils were massive, like a meeting of 2,000 Northern Mori leaders in 1854. Still, most accounts from that time reveal that the movement continually bumped up against their biggest obstacle, ideology. Many chiefs struggled to wrap their heads around the idea of a king. Why should they copy European structure? Would creating an alternate monarch to Queen Victoria provoke a hostile takeover? Wouldn't that all further erode the Maori way of life? Tamihana and his collaborators purportedly argued that the larger goal was wasn't to fully mirror or adopt British culture. It was actually the opposite, to create a position that could give them consolidated negotiating power to protect and preserve Mori customs. But even for Mori leaders sympathetic to that reasoning, there was still an elephant in the room. If they did agree on a king, who would it be? Here. Another figure of the king, Tenga Tamihana's cousin Matene Te Fwifui was instrumental. Te Fwifui reportedly studied the ancestry and deeds of hundreds of possible king candidates. He then traveled extensively with his cousin to persuade those deemed suitable to take the position. But in spite of his well researched pitch and the chance to make royal history, all of the chiefs he approached declined. Some simply weren't aligned with the movement, while others cited regional authority issues. For instance, here is how one chief are correct. I am a chief, a descendant of your ancestors. However, the problem is that my pedigree adheres to only one people. My mountain does not move. I do not agree. But like his determined cousin, Te Fwifui kept at it. The right leader definitely had to tick many specific boxes. First and foremost, he had to have the authority and connections to win the support of enough tribes. His own tribe also needed enough resources to host all manner of royal functions. And the right candidate had to be wise, careful and charismatic enough to represent a wide range of Maori interests while simultaneously dealing with the British. In other words, the first king had to be someone with the utmost mana. As we explored in part one, mana is a complex, sweeping Maori term often interpreted as an individual's overall power, authority, prestige. Per Maori custom and familial lore, seemingly no living chief had more mana than the venerated Tefuero Fuero. So Te Whifi approached him, and Te Fuero Fuero said no. Then Te Fwifui supposedly approached him second, several more times. And Te Fuerafuero kept saying no. And not without good reason. Te Fuer Fuerro was likely almost 80 by this point, and his health was failing. Additionally, as we know from part one, he reputedly had a knack for recognizing traps. Some biographers suggest that the wise chief foresaw that the Maori kingship was would be a thankless position. Such a ruler would be continually hampered by being stuck in the middle of conflicting Maori, British and tribal factions. By 1857, things looked grim for the king movement until perhaps the most influential kingmaker of all made his mark. Wiremu Tamihana, the chief of another Waikato IWI or tribe was was fed up with Auckland's Parliament. You may remember from the articles of the Treaty of Waitanga, Maori individuals were supposed to be afforded the rights and privileges of British citizens. In practice, this was far from the case. Quite a lot of evidence points to the colonial government severely restricting the Maori population from from having a say in broader New Zealand legislation and even hampering them from making and enforcing laws within their own tribes. A couple years earlier, Wiramu had gotten so frustrated with this inadequate system that he tried to petition for Maori representation within Auckland's parliament. But he was allegedly ignored for two full days while waiting outside the Governor's office. All while Pakeha, or white European descended New Zealanders got in without any issue. The incident was essentially the final straw for Wihremu who claimed that Maori were treated like dogs by the colonialist government. And he went back to Te Fuero Fuero. Once more. He beseeched his renowned elder. They needed change, leadership and a collective voice. It's tricky to say what exactly persuaded Te Fuero fuero. If some 19th century historians are to be believed, the chief was senile by then and no longer aware of what he was agreeing to. Conversely, as some later scholars argued, a crucial factor was that Te Fuero Fuero regularly attended church and responded well to the fact that Wiramu himself was a devout Christian convert who supported his political ideas with biblical teachings. Judging by Maori oral traditions, it's also plausible that Wierumu cleverly helped to reframe Te Fuerre Fuero's perception of his serious ailments rather than the storied leader's failing health being a reason he should avoid becoming king. Perhaps accepting the crown could be a final meaningful chance for him to improve Mori lives, honor his lineage and further glorify his legacy when he wasn't quite able to show his mettle on a battlefield. Whatever the case, he finally got Te Fuero Fuero to agree in his 1858 acceptance speech. Te Fuero Fuero walked a fine line that very much seemed to be the product of considerable experience rather than rambling senility. According to modern scholars, his overriding intention was to unite and motivate Maori tribes Who, while simultaneously clarifying that his crowning was not a direct challenge to British power. But representatives of the British monarchy, of course, did not take it that way. The crowning of Te Fuer Fuero apparently made the British Governor of New Zealand, Thomas Brown, exceedingly paranoid. Brown came up with a plot to occupy a block of land in Waitara, despite supposedly being well aware that the sale had been vetoed by the ranking chief there. Assuming that this move would spark violence, he planned to then use any firm displays of Maori defiance as a means to forcibly invade the region to emphasize British sovereignty and undermine the new Maori king. When it came time to side with a monarch who would, many struggling tribes pick the 80 year old rookie who could neither control nor defend his people or the wealthy, all powerful Queen Victoria. But Governor Brown's plan basically backfired since he evidently didn't understand Maori culture well enough. Tribes may have fought fierce wars with each other for centuries, but as some Maori writers and scholars note, they had no inherent problem with the idea of parallel or overlapping authorities. In fact, the Maori population was very used to this with their system of iwi, hapu and Rangatira, or tribes, sub tribes and chiefs. If anything, Governor Brown's shady tactics probably unified more support for Te Fuerro Fuero and the Kingitanga. Even so, Te Fuer Fuero was extremely reluctant to enter into any overt conflict with the British. He was plenty familiar with their power. In addition, for a decently long stretch before his crowning, he had apparently been on solid diplomatic terms with Queen Victoria herself. But then the land dispute in Taranaki escalated to the point that In March of 1860, the British Crown directed imperial troops from Australia as well as a full warship, the HMVS. Victoria was a 580 ton vessel powered by both sail and steam. Interestingly, it was the first warship to be built in Britain and then given to a British colony. And also the first Australian warship to ever be deployed overseas. To put it simply, this was a massive test for the fledgling Maori monarchy. Te Fuer Fuero's initial hesitation to act surely made some of his allies wonder which version of the legendary man they were going to get as a king. Had Te Fuero Fuero become wholly peaceful and passive in his elder years. After all, when he was crowned, he took the title of Pah Tatto, an apparent reference to his love for a dying wife, as opposed to something in reference to his greatness as a warrior chief. Or was the aging king's vaunted patience finally wearing thin? Because on some level he seemingly understood that no matter what he did, anger and blame would be heaped on him anyway. Ultimately, despite Te Fuer Fuerr's side being hugely outnumbered and outgunned, or possibly even because of it, that signature warrior spirit of his finally re emerged. Per most sources, it seems unlikely that Tefuer Fuerro returned to Taranaki in person, but he supported Maori fighters efforts there by sending substantial reinforcements and supplies. Te Fuer Fuero died In June of 1860, about three months after the start of the, as it was later dubbed, First Taranaki War. But the tone he set for the Maori king movement carried on. Despite Britain's resources and military power, the First Taranaki War ended in a stalemate thanks in part to cunning guerrilla tactics by Maori warriors and the timely intervention of the Maori monarch. Though there was still plenty of strife to come, this was a huge win for the united tribes of New Zealand. Like Te Fuero Fuero wielding his digging implement against wave of attackers decades before he would become king. The northern chiefs proved that that they would never go down without a fight. All in all, Te Fuer Fuero's legacy is pretty unique and complex. Though he was a fearsome warrior with a lengthy military career, he didn't become king through a military campaign or a hostile takeover like many other warrior monarchs. Again, he didn't even want to be king at first as some historians have suggested. This might be why, short as his reign was, he was able to partially put his ego aside in order to navigate a nearly impossible set of political circumstances. Despite his short reign, Te Fuero Fuero was able to successfully found a dynasty. Technically he was elected as king and so his successors were did not have to be blood relatives, but it still worked out that way. His son took over as king and Waikato chief and oversaw further violent conflicts against the British colonial government plus other settlers and even Maori tribes allied with them in what would eventually be called the New Zealand Wars. Then his son took over after him and so on. Currently there is a Maori monarch descended from this line, Ngawai Hono Itipo, who was crowned queen in 2024. In many ways, the Maori monarchy and the movement that started it are still fairly divisive and controversial. Just as they were back in the 19th century. The new Zealand wars roped in numerous factions and continued until 1860. But there was essentially no outright winner. Many land and sovereignty issues are still simmering throughout the multi island nation. Although conflicts are now mostly fought in courtrooms instead of on battlefields. For added context, New Zealand ended their status as a British colony and in 1907, then gradually became an independent nation that is still today part of the British Commonwealth. So in a sense, there are dual heads of state in New Zealand, the British monarch and the Maori monarch. That said, it's worth pointing out that similarly to how many Maori chieftains, neither elected nor supported, supported Te Fuerafuero as king, many still do not recognize the Maori monarch. Furthermore, as some writers acknowledge, the Maori monarchy functions in something of a ceremonial role, although the chosen monarch does have a certain amount of power and cultural significance, especially within the Waikato tribe. Given all of the hurdles, paradigm shifts, and the British Crown's increasingly fraught history of land grabs, discrimination and forced assimilation in New Zealand throughout the 19th century, it's easy to wonder how the monarchy that Tefuero Fuero founded actually survived. Again, a lot comes down to mana, as well as the related concept of tapu. Tapu essentially means sacred and under protection from atua, the Maori ancestor. Gods, people, places and things can all be imbued with it. Like mana, tapu is connected to ancestry and can evolve over time. In becoming the first Maori monarch, Te Fuero Fuero infused tapu into the position, making the role, at least to some tribes, sacred, untouchable and inherently tied to the land. In other words, the king making movement may have originally been emulating the British monarchy, but in the end they in effect created a royal structure that was uniquely Maori. That was part two of the story of Te Fuero Fuero's unique rise to royalty. But stick around after a brief sponsor break to learn the profoundly relevant meaning behind several key mori words. By now you've heard quite a bit about Maori IWI and Hap tribes and subtribes, as well as the violence and tragedy that arose when these groups were separated from their generational homelands. Fittingly, these concepts are firmly connected in Maori etymology. According to the wonderfully detailed online resource Te Ara, the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, the word hap literally means both clan and pregnant, which compellingly emphasizes the genealogical link between members of the same sub tribes. Relatedly, fwennua, the Maori word for land, can also be translated as placenta, which underscores the life giving connection between land and people. Finally, the word iwi or tribe can also refer to bones, a correlation that scholars claim exemplifies tribes veneration for their ancestors. Noble Blood is a production of iheartradio and Grim and Mild from Erin Manke. Noble Blood is hosted by me Dana Schwartz. Writers for Noble Blood are Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Paul Jaffe, Natasha Lasky and me, Dana Schwartz. The show is edited and produced by Jesse Funk and Gnomes Griffin, with supervising producer Rima Il Kayali and executive producers Erin Menke, Trevor Young and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. This is an iHeart podcast. Guaranteed Human.
Date: July 7, 2026
Host: Dana Schwartz
Podcast: Noble Blood (iHeartPodcasts & Grim & Mild)
This episode dives into the creation and complex legacy of the Māori monarchy in New Zealand, focusing on the life and reluctant crowning of the first Māori king, Te Wherowhero, and the political and cultural forces that led to its formation and survival. Dana Schwartz traces the movement’s origins, key players, and how the intersection of Māori traditions and British colonial pressure shaped a unique form of monarchy that endures—though contentiously—to this day.
“However, the problem is that my pedigree adheres to only one people. My mountain does not move. I do not agree.” (Unnamed chief, paraphrased by Schwartz, [19:30])
On the difficulties of early kingship:
“Who would have thought that the days decades earlier of him single handedly fighting off dozens of enemies would have been so much easier?” (Dana Schwartz, [02:56])
On the challenge of creating a Māori monarchy:
“Many chiefs struggled to wrap their heads around the idea of a king. Why should they copy European structure? Would creating an alternate monarch to Queen Victoria provoke a hostile takeover? Wouldn’t that all further erode the Māori way of life?” (Schwartz, [17:30])
On colonial attitudes toward Māori representation:
“Maori were treated like dogs by the colonialist government.” (Wiremu Tamihana via Schwartz, [24:20])
On the core of the monarchy’s survival:
“A lot comes down to mana, as well as the related concept of tapu... people, places and things can all be imbued with it.” (Schwartz, [37:45])
Dana Schwartz’s narration is both thorough and wry, employing speculative yet respectful language about historical motivations. The show foregrounds the complexity of Māori–colonial relations, the limits and power of leadership, and the sometimes paradoxical ways that tradition and adaptation can merge.
This episode offers a deeply researched and narratively rich account of how the Māori monarchy took shape out of a maelstrom of colonial anxiety, cultural innovation, and the weight of mana. It doesn’t shy away from historic injustice but gives equal space to Māori agency, internal debate, and cultural resilience—showing how sometimes, even the most reluctant king can leave a dynasty.