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Treaty Negotiations Minister Paul Goldsmith doesn’t think Māori and the Crown can “agree to disagree” about sovereignty. He says that kind of clause-included in the Te Whānau-ā-Apanui settlement under the previous government-is “constitutional experimentation” and “adventurism.” But here’s the irony. In the same breath, Goldsmith admits we don’t actually know what Māori were thinking in 1840. “It’s impossible to know what was in the mind of somebody in 1840,” he told Maiki Sherman hosting TVNZ’s Q+A programme. “Historians can argue about that all day.” So let’s pause there.
The Minister says we can’t know what Māori understood when they signed Te Tiriti-but insists Māori ceded sovereignty anyway. That’s not constitutional confidence. That’s colonial convenience. Goldsmith doubled down, saying: “The Crown’s position is that, yes [Māori ceded sovereignty], and through a series of acts the Crown asserted that sovereignty in 1840 and has defended that sovereignty ever since.” In other words, the Crown assumed, legislated, and enforced sovereignty, and now calls that historical fact. But from a Māori perspective, that’s the very heart of the breach. The Crown’s unilateral assertion of power is exactly what Te Tiriti was supposed to prevent.
Kāwanatanga, yes. Dominion, no. Goldsmith’s stance is more than legally contradictory-it’s politically revealing. He frames any challenge to the Crown’s version of sovereignty as a threat to democracy, rather than a long-overdue reckoning with the truth. What’s more, he refuses to include even a diplomatic clause in a Treaty settlement that reflects shared disagreement-a position that, ironically, undermines the very public trust he claims to protect.
Let’s be clear: Treaty settlements are political instruments, not constitutional blueprints. But when the Crown uses those settlements to entrench its version of history while rejecting Māori narratives, that’s not negotiation. That’s narrative control. Some would argue this is just caution. But those who understand the constitution-how it actually works, how it shifts and stretches to accommodate power-know better.
Aotearoa-New Zealand’s constitutional arrangements aren’t fixed. They’re political, unwritten, and built on layers of convention. There’s room for pluralism. The question is whether there’s political courage to allow it. If the Minister truly believes in a democratic society built on trust, then there should be room for the idea that Māori never ceded sovereignty—and for that truth to sit alongside Crown assumptions. That isn’t “adventurism.” That’s constitutional maturity. And here’s where the rubber hits the road: Goldsmith says he’s heading to Te Tai Tokerau to re-engage with Ngāpuhi. His preference? One commercial settlement, with six or seven cultural redress agreements underneath. That’s neat and efficient-on paper. But Ngāpuhi isn’t paper. It’s over 100 hapū, each with its own mana, tikanga, and political whakapapa.
He may arrive with policy options, but the political climate in the north is charged. Let’s not forget: in 2024, Ngāpuhi and other iwi leaders walked out on Crown ministers at the National Iwi Chairs Forum. At Waitangi in 2025, wāhine rangatira from Te Tai Tokerau, draped in paraikete whero, stood in silence and turned their backs on Minister Tama Potaka and ACT leader David Seymour. These aren’t stunts. They’re reminders. Māori are not passive recipients of policy-they’re signatories to a treaty. Goldsmith says he hopes all settlements will be completed by 2040, just in time for the bicentennial of Te Tiriti.
But many Māori aren’t interested in deadlines. They’re interested in dignity, recognition, and rangatiratanga. So no, Minister Goldsmith-“agreeing to disagree” isn’t constitutional adventurism. It’s diplomacy, on Māori terms. And let’s be clear: Māori have been holding that line since 1840. Māori never ceded. The Crown just refuses to listen. Māori will keep agreeing to disagree-until the Crown finally agrees.
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