March 10, 2026
#lifestyle: Waiata of Resistance: Protest Songs that Shaped Aotearoa
The passing of Dilworth Karaka has prompted reflection not only on the legacy of the band Herbs, but on a wider tradition of protest music in Aotearoa — songs that have given voice to movements, challenged injustice and carried the stories of communities often unheard.
For generations, waiata has played a central role in Māori storytelling. Long before the arrival of modern recording studios and radio stations, waiata were used to pass down histories, express grief and joy, and record the events shaping tribal life.
In the modern era, that tradition has continued through music that speaks to political struggles, social movements and cultural identity.
Karaka and Herbs were central figures in that story. Their song French Letter became one of the most recognisable protest anthems in New Zealand history, condemning French nuclear testing in the Pacific and expressing solidarity with communities across the region affected by radioactive fallout.
Later versions such as French Letter ’95 renewed that message for a new generation of listeners, reinforcing the band’s role as a musical voice for Pacific resistance.
Herbs were far from alone in using music as a vehicle for protest.
Across the decades, artists from different genres have contributed to a uniquely Aotearoa tradition of political songwriting. According to research highlighted by the New Zealand music archive AudioCulture, protest songs have been a recurring thread through the country’s musical history.
One of the most powerful examples is Parihaka by Tim Finn, a song that reflects on the non-violent resistance of the Parihaka community and the injustices faced by Māori during the colonial period.
Hip-hop group Upper Hutt Posse brought a new sound to protest music with their landmark track E Tū, widely regarded as the first politically charged hip-hop song produced in Aotearoa. The song called for Māori unity and self-determination during a time of renewed cultural activism.
Singer and activist Moana Maniapoto and her group Moana and the Moahunters also contributed to the movement with Treaty, a powerful song examining the promises and tensions surrounding Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
More recently, artists have continued the tradition in new musical forms. Songs like Freedom to Sing by Tiki Taane have explored the rights of artists to express themselves freely, while Chains by DLT featuring Che Fu became a defining anthem of 1990s Aotearoa hip-hop, reflecting the frustrations and aspirations of urban Māori and Pacific youth.
Earlier songs such as Nuclear Waste by Herbs also reinforced the band’s reputation for confronting environmental and geopolitical issues affecting the Pacific.
Together these songs form part of a uniquely New Zealand tradition where music and politics often intersect.
For Māori in particular, waiata continues to serve as a powerful cultural tool – a way to share stories, honour ancestors and challenge injustice.
The legacy of Dilworth Karaka sits firmly within that tradition.
Through Herbs, he helped create music that did more than entertain. Their songs carried messages of solidarity with land rights protesters, Pacific communities targeted during the overstayer raids, and movements opposing nuclear testing and apartheid.
In doing so, Karaka and his bandmates demonstrated how waiata can become a voice for those whose stories might otherwise remain unheard.
As Aotearoa reflects on his passing, many are also recognising the wider tradition he helped strengthen – a tradition where music becomes a form of storytelling, resistance and cultural memory.
And as long as those songs continue to be sung, the voices behind them will continue to echo across generations.





