The Power of Indigenous Print

ARTS | TE AO MĀORI | TUAKIRI / IDENTITY

Written by Skye Lunson-Storey (shethey) | @uku_rangi | Arts, Culture, and Te Ao Māori Editor

Kia whakatōmuri te haere whakamua: ‘I walk backwards into the future with my eyes fixed on my past. 

In an age of disappearing stories and endless scrolling, there’s something radical about ink on paper. It archives. It refuses to vanish. For Indigenous and minority communities in Aotearoa, that permanence has always mattered. Print has historically been a tool of resistance for Māori, Pasifika, the queer community, and our wāhine. It remains a space students must continue to claim. As the first issue of Debate 2026 looks at identity, I reflect on the history of print media in Aotearoa. From Te Hokioi e rere atu na, to Mana, and Broadsheet. Reiterating the relevance they hold today and the importance of ‘Who gets to tell your story?’

To understand print as resistance and identity, we must reflect on Aotearoa's historical foundations, starting with Te Hokioi e rere atu na. The first newspaper in Te Reo Māori, printed by the Kīngitanga in 1862-1863. During this period, print was what radio, television, and the internet are to us today. This countered colonial narratives as an act of political sovereignty. This wasn’t just news. It was a declaration that we can, and we will speak for ourselves. As part of the pro-kīngitanga political propaganda, Te Hokioi had nine known issues. Sharing official announcements from Kīngi Tāwhiao and reporting on news within and beyond the Kīngitanga. The production of this newspaper was revolutionary, asserting the Kīngitanga’s ability to convey its voice to the wider Māori community. It was written by Māori, for Māori.

Mana emerged during a time of severe social and political unrest in 1977-1978. It has become recognised as one of the earliest/first multi-lingual Polynesian newspapers. Mana amplified Māori and Pasifika voices, covering land rights, activism, self-determination, and cultural pride. When mainstream media misrepresented or ignored Māori and Pasifika issues, Mana documented the truth for its own communities. Thus, providing a space where Indigenous perspectives weren’t filtered for mainstream comfort. If you haven’t already, go visit the Mana: Protest in Print exhibition held at Tāmaki Paenga Hira (Auckland War Memorial Museum). As stated by Dr Wanda leremia-Allan, one of the curators for Mana: Protest in print, “The legacy of Mana continues to resonate today, and its vision for a more inclusive and informed society remains as powerful and relevant now as it was in 1977.”  

Broadsheet was a feminist publication produced in Auckland from 1972 to 1997. Reporting on politics, sexuality, art, and crime, it helped shape women’s activism in Aotearoa. Demonstrating how minority-focused print can shift national discourse. I first encountered Broadsheet while archiving some of its first issues at the Charlotte Museum Te Whare Takatāpui-Wāhine o Aotearoa. I was in awe of the pages dedicated to interviewing Māori and Pasifika women. Giving voice to the lived realities we face, from raising children alone to loving other women in a society where homophobia was not only present, but normalised. Across the different movements of Māori sovereignty, Pacific activism, and feminism, print allowed communities to define themselves on their own terms.

Why is reporting for a community different? Well, reporting on Māori for a mainstream audience often frames issues through an outsider’s lens. Whereas, reporting for Māori centres lived experience, whakapapa, tikanga, and community. As a result, the language shifts, and so does accountability. Creating the ultimate power shift. There is a difference between being observed and being heard. Being analysed and being understood. Identity isn’t something others explain about us. It’s something we articulate ourselves.

So why does print still matter in a digital age? I acknowledge that digital and social media dominate while print media faces funding cuts and shrinking platforms. However, choosing to write in print today is an act of manaaki and permanence. There is something so beautiful about the tactile aspect of print media and the way a printed page cannot be buried by algorithms. Sitting in libraries, bedrooms, and archives, we are reminded that print is both archival and physical. Allowing depth over reaction while it silently waits to be found by someone who needs it.

You carry mātauranga and the stories shaped by whānau, migration, colonisation, and resistance. Those perspectives are not niche; they are foundational to Aotearoa. University publications are training grounds for future journalists, writers, researchers, and artists. In a way, representation begins here. Take the opportunity to write in your reo and about your communities. Also, to write about joy, not just struggle, you are allowed to write beyond trauma narratives. Claim space and take it!

Identity is not passive; it is constructed, defended, and shared. Reflecting on our history, it becomes evident that print has always been part of that construction. Ink has always carried more than words. It carries whakapapa. If identity is about knowing who we are, then print is one way we ensure no one else defines that for us.

Mauri ora!