Why Minorities Buy Into Colonial Power Structures
My Journey in Understanding Te Tiriti and Te Ao Māori Part 1.
Dear Curious Minds,
Welcome to Monday which means it’s newsletter day. We have Waitangi Day coming up this week so I have a two part story. It’s a mix of theories I’ve learnt as a social psychology student and how learning to be a treaty partner evolved over the years in my own life. Thank you for being here, I appreciate you.
If I had a dollar for every time I saw a fellow migrant look politely puzzled in a conversation about Te Tiriti o Waitangi, I’d have enough to fund a nationwide BBQ for us all.
But here we are in 2025, where many Tangata Tiriti (non-Māori living in New Zealand) are still grappling with what it means to live in Aotearoa beyond just existing in it.
And honestly? I get it.
As a migrant, especially if you’re from a country that has also experienced colonisation or war, it’s easy to see New Zealand’s history as not your fight. You weren’t here when it happened and it’s not your history. I used to think that way too.
When our familiy first moved here, my priorities were survival: adapting to a new culture and not making a complete fool of myself every single day, working out why Kiwis walk barefoot in supermarkets, turning up to some ‘parties’ that only had two small plates of finger food instead of a feast ready to break the dining table that you are used to, and trying not to butcher English OR Māori pronunciation (spoiler: I still cringe at my early attempts).
But eventually, I had to confront the truth. This land has a history that exists whether I engage with it or not. And my presence in Aotearoa makes me part of that story. Ignoring that doesn’t make me neutral; It just makes me complicit.
But I’m Not a Coloniser! So Why Is There Tension?
One of the papers I enjoyed the most during my postgrad years in psychology is Group Dynamics. I dug a real deep research rabbit hole in particular topic because it was so salient in my life: why minority groups (who should, rationally, be allies in the fight against oppression) sometimes buy into colonial narratives against each other.
Why do some newer migrants hold negative views about Indigenous people? Why has there been historical tension between Māori and Pasifika communities? Why have different racialised groups, whether Black, Asian, or Indigenous, been pitted against each other globally?
If this fascinates you, you will enjoy diving into social psychology theories below:
Theories That Explain Intergroup Tension Between Marginalised Groups
1. Social Dominance Theory (Sidanius & Pratto, 1999)
This theory explains how hierarchical social systems are maintained through institutional discrimination, individual bias, and ideological narratives. Societies create dominance hierarchies, where some groups are systematically advantaged while others are disadvantaged.
Importantly, some marginalised groups participate in this hierarchy to gain proximity to power. This is called “hierarchy-enhancing behaviour”, where even oppressed groups might uphold existing structures if they believe it will protect their status.
This explains why some migrant communities align with dominant (Pākehā/white) narratives. It’s often a survival strategy. Some believe that if they adopt the dominant culture’s views (including racist stereotypes about Māori), they’ll be perceived as the “good minority” who works hard, assimilates, and doesn’t “cause trouble.”
🔹 Example: The 'model minority myth' of East Asians has been weaponised against Black and Indigenous communities globally, including in Aotearoa. Some Asian migrants internalise this because they are rewarded for it (e.g., being perceived as hardworking and non-threatening to white power structures).
2. Realistic Conflict Theory (Sherif, 1966)
Sherif’s famous Robbers Cave experiment demonstrated how competition over limited resources breeds hostility between groups.
If two groups believe they’re competing for the same scarce opportunities (e.g., housing, jobs, political representation), they develop resentment toward each other rather than questioning the system that created scarcity in the first place.
In New Zealand, some Māori and Pasifika communities have seen waves of immigration as a threat to their already precarious access to economic and political power. Meanwhile, some migrants feel they must “prove” their worth in a system that already underfunds Indigenous communities, leading to tensions rather than solidarity.
🔹 Example: In the 1970s, the government used Pasifika migrant workers as labour, then scapegoated them in the infamous Dawn Raids when the economy shifted. Decades later, similar anti-immigrant rhetoric is being used against new waves of migrants such as Asians and Africans, without acknowledging the colonial roots of economic instability that fuel these tensions.
3. Zero-Sum Thinking and the Fixed-Pie Fallacy
A zero-sum belief is the assumption that one person’s gain is inherently another’s loss: a mindset often referred to as the “fixed-pie” fallacy. This perspective can hinder fairness and collaboration.
Zero-sum thinking leads people to perceive the social and economic advancements of one group as directly disadvantaging another.
This mindset is not only incorrect in many situations but also limits the potential for mutually beneficial solutions. Recognising that resources and opportunities can be expanded through collaboration is crucial for overcoming zero-sum biases.
🔹 Example: When government funding is allocated to Māori health initiatives, some non-Māori react as if something is being “taken” from them, rather than recognising that Māori have disproportionately worse health outcomes due to systemic inequities that need to be addressed.
4. Internalised Racism & Colonised Mindsets (Fanon, 1952; Memmi, 1965)
Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks and Albert Memmi’s The Colonizer and the Colonized describe how colonialism doesn’t just oppress people physically; it colonises their minds.
Oppressed groups sometimes adopt the coloniser’s worldview as a psychological defence mechanism, because internalising negative stereotypes about other minorities reduces their own cognitive dissonance about their place in the hierarchy.
Migrants arriving in Aotearoa are often exposed to Pākehā narratives about Māori before they even interact with Māori communities. If we come in without unpacking this bias, we risk replicating it.
🔹 Example: The portrayal of Māori as ‘criminal’ or ‘lazy’ isn’t just a random prejudice; it’s a colonial narrative that justified land theft and ongoing systemic discrimination. If migrants consume mainstream media without critically analysing it, they inherit these false narratives.
So What Can We Do With This Knowledge?
Understanding these psychological and structural forces helps us break the cycle. Here’s what I’ve found useful:
1. Actively Unlearn Colonial Narratives
Read Māori perspectives. Follow Māori academics and activists. Engage with Māori media instead of one or two mainstream sources.
When you hear someone say something anti-Māori, find your own words to challenge it with curiosity, if you feel safe to do so. Ask: “Where did you learn that? Have you spoken to Māori about their perspective?”
2. Build Genuine Relationships
You don’t have to “save” Māori communities (they don’t need saving). But you do need to listen and recognise their voices.
If you’re in a workplace, explore ways to build authentic Māori leadership, not just token consultation.
3. Stop Competing Over Scarcity: Challenge It Instead
Instead of saying “Why do Māori get that funding?” ask “Where is the political will to make enough funding for everyone?”. Don’t let the answer be your head is la-la land. See how the biggest billionaires are about to become trillionaires? There is extensive research to show persistent poverty is a political decision of our systems.
4. Accept That Learning is a Journey, Not a Destination
You will get things wrong. You will say the wrong thing. Keep going. Intent matters, but consistent and corrective action matters more.
Final Thoughts For Now: The Journey is Ongoing
Understanding Te Tiriti and te ao Māori isn’t a box to tick; it’s an ongoing commitment.
And if we, as Tangata Tiriti, care about justice, we have to actively participate in decolonising our own mindsets, supporting Māori self-determination, and unlearning the narratives that were never ours to begin with.
And if that’s too much to process in one go, at the very least, let’s commit to pronouncing Māori words properly. It’s the least we start doing.
In part 2 on Friday, I’ll share some more about my personal journey, embarrasing failures and friends who helped me renavigate the compass.
If this resonated, share it. If it made you uncomfortable, sit with that. If you have thoughts—especially from tangata whenua—I welcome the kōrero. Let’s keep learning together.