Lands of Red and Gold, Act II

For Islamic rulers, one thing I'm curious about is whether Islam would consider Plirites as dhimmi, or as pagans. Plirism does not strictly require multiple deities, though it does not discourage them either (it just disputes omnipotence).The closest parallel that I can think of is Buddhism, where if I understand it right, Buddhists were eventually considered as dhimmi in some circumstances, though not necessarily all. Whether this would apply to Plirism as well is harder to say.

However, regardless of initial friction, the Nangu do have a tradition of placing commerce above trade, where the trade is profitable enough. In pre-Houtmanian days, they did this with the Atjuntja and Yadji, both of whom forbade Nangu proselytisation. I expect that the Nuttana will work out something similar in terms of designated areas where seeking converts is forbidden.
1) Do the Pliirites have a book. As in canonical scripture? I think that was part of what criteria Islam ended up using for deciding who was a 'people of the Book'. Hinduism, with the Vedas did count, despite the numerous gods in their pantheon. I think.
2) Commerce/trade above religion, yes?
 
1) Do the Pliirites have a book. As in canonical scripture? I think that was part of what criteria Islam ended up using for deciding who was a 'people of the Book'. Hinduism, with the Vedas did count, despite the numerous gods in their pantheon. I think.

Plirism has a number of prestigious written texts, most notably one called Oora Gulalu (The Endless Road) which is very widely-read. These aren't quite canonical scriptures in the strict sense of the word - Plirism frowns on the idea of a strict canon. But it is close enough that Islamic rulers may be prepared to class the Plirites as peoples of a book.

2) Commerce/trade above religion, yes?

Oops. That's indeed what I meant. Thanks for spotting that; it's now fixed.
 
Thanks for spotting that; it's now fixed.

I saw that myself just a few minutes ago - then it wasn't there the next time I looked. I'm a bit sleepy, so I was doubting my senses (and relieved to see that you just fixed it). It's amusing to see this forum operating in real time.
 
Lands of Red and Gold #94: A Three-Part Harmony
Lands of Red and Gold #94: A Three-Part Harmony

E tupu atu kūmara, e ohu e te anuhe.” (As a person’s importance increases so do those who seek their favour.)
- Māori proverb

* * *

From: “The World Historical Dictionary”

Harmony Wars: Also known as Rīriri Paliri [1]. A series of internecine wars fought between Māori kingdoms and clans from 1638 to 1684. The wars were initiated by the spread of Plirism and iron metallurgy into Aotearoa. The warfare increased after Nuttana, French and other colonial powers began selling weapons to Māori groups. The Harmony Wars were a continuation of previous Māori inter-tribal warfare, but were fought with increasing ferocity due to the availability of more effective weapons and religious conflict between Plirite, Christian, and traditionalist Māori. Groups of Māori displaced during these wars often fled overseas as Pakanga raiders (q.v.), mercenaries, or colonists.

The Harmony Wars were fought as overlapping conflicts between different Māori kingdoms and clans, rather than as well-established alliances. The warfare was most intense between approximately 1650 and 1670, with some conflicts continuing into the 1680s. The wars led to the consolidation of the Māori political structure into the Ten Kingdoms (q.v.).

* * *

Aotearoa had long been a land where Māori fought Māori; while they used one name to refer to their people collectively, that term represented cultural unity rather than any form of political cohesion. Māori society was divided into three hierarchical groups which were notionally genealogical, based on shared ancestry, although in truth the claimed lineages were often dubious.

The first level was whānau, which represented all of the people who lived in a particular locality. The second was hapū, a term which is usually translated as clan or subtribe, and which refers to a group of whānau who claim a degree of kinship and who are under the protection of a common leader. The third was iwi, which would usually be translated as tribe or kingdom, and which was the closest Māori equivalent to an organised state [2].

Warfare was common between each of these groups. Every whānau had its group of warriors, who had sworn service to the toka atua, the “god stone” that symbolised the local leader’s power. Every ariki (leader) was judged on their mana [prestige, reputation], and had to be ready to defend their mana in war if required.

Part of this process also involved reciprocal loyalties between the leaders at each social level. Each ariki whānau swore service to the ariki hapū, and they in turn swore service to the ariki iwi. The lesser leader offered service, and in turn the greater leader offered protection, both in warfare and (ideally) in the spiritual benefits of their mana. Every ariki was judged not solely on their power in warfare, but also in their conduct. If a lesser leader became dissatisfied with the actions of their superior, then they could change service to another leader. The leader and warriors of a whānau could change to another hapū, and while it was less frequent, a hapū could also change between iwi.

In such a society, raids were commonplace. Often these raids were small-scale, ended after a few ritualised combats. Sometimes the raids were fought simply for destruction, prestige or revenge. Some raids were conducted to obtain plunder (goods, slave labourers, wives). The largest raids were for outright conquest, to destroy or subdue rival groups and acquire their territory.

The cycle of raids marked part of utu, the Māori view of the need for reciprocity and balance. To maintain their mana, any Māori needed to ensure that both positive and negative actions were returned in kind. Many later historians of this period would emphasise the destructive aspects of utu: the seemingly-endless cycle of revenge raids over an initial, usually minor slight. Such historians would largely ignore the positive aspects of utu: gift-giving and good treatment was encouraged and reciprocated as much as harmful deeds. In many cases this applied to kinfolk, but it often applied more widely. For all of the near-legendary Māori hostility to outsiders (which was often exaggerated), they possessed a firm sense of hospitality for those who were admitted. Historians of the Harmony Wars often commented on how a particular taua [war party] might travel for a long time and distance to strike at an enemy, while glossing over how often such a taua would have been hosted peacefully by many of the hapū whose territory it passed through along the way to its target.

The importance of gift-giving and good treatment in traditional Māori culture is perhaps most clearly demonstrated by their ritual saying that was uttered when giving a gift: “Ahakoa he iti he pounamu.” (Although it is small, it is greenstone). Pounamu, or greenstone [jade], is revered in Māori society. In the early years of their settlement in Aotearoa, before bronzeworking became widespread, hard greenstone was valuable for weapons and tools. Even after bronze became more readily available, pounamu was viewed as possessing much mana. Greenstone jewellery would be ritually handed from one generation to the next, together with the tale of its previous owners, and was believed to grow in mana with every generation. So this proverb was ritually uttered whenever giving a gift – although the gifts were rarely of greenstone – and epitomised the significance that gift exchange held in Māori culture.

So hospitality and hostility had both been part of Māori culture for centuries. Some later historians would see the outbreak of the Harmony Wars simply as a continuation of that internecine warfare, while others would view it as a new era triggered by external factors. A variety of external factors would be cited:
- the immense social disruption of Old World plagues, both from the direct effects of population loss, and from the shattering of existing relationships between the ariki, which largely relied on personal loyalty and the perceived mana of a particular leader, so that any death inevitably produced political realignments;
- the spread of new religions, namely Plirism and later Catholicism, which provoked increased religious hostility between the iwi;
- the introduction of Nangu iron-working and shipbuilding technology, which allowed improved tool use, particularly in increasing agricultural productivity, and eased the naval transport of larger groups of warriors and captives;
- the spread of imported weaponry, that is muskets and occasional artillery, which not only facilitated greater bloodshed during warfare, but also required the production of trade goods to obtain both weapons and ongoing supplies of powder. Those trade goods were easiest obtained by plundering elsewhere, or required captive slave labour to produce sufficient supplies of trade goods;
- colonial influence from the Nuttana and the Compagnie d’Orient (CDO) [French East India Company], who encouraged the Māori to fight each other [3] so as to preserve their own spheres of influence in Aotearoa, and also to provide further trade goods (principally slaves) for foreign markets; and
- lesser colonial provocation from the (English) East India Company (EIC) and Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie (VOC) [Dutch East India Company], who were mostly distracted by the Anglo-Dutch Wars, but who sold smaller supplies of muskets to traditionalist Māori iwi, with the intention to disrupt their rivals’ influence and market access in Aotearoa.

Much ink and many dead trees would eventually be consumed in scholarly arguments about whether the Harmony Wars should properly be considered a continuation or a product of external factors. Suffice it to say that a case could be made for either.

* * *

The conventional date for the start of the Harmony Wars is simple enough: Arapeta, the ariki iwi of the Ngati Apa in the Taranaki region of Te Ika-a-Māui [North Island], converted to Plirism in 1638. He was the first ariki iwi to accept the new religion. After his conversion, he first resolved all disputes within his own iwi, then proclaimed that from this time on, all raiding must be conducted against other iwi; infighting would no longer be permitted. This naturally led to an intensification of raids on neighbouring iwi, and some not so neighbouring, since raiding taua often went for long distances before striking. Inevitably, it also provoked a response from other ariki iwi, who encouraged their subordinate ariki to strike at rival iwi rather than locally. Prohibitions on iwi infighting were less strict amongst traditionalists, but this nonetheless led to a greater sense of unity amongst each iwi. Increasingly, most raids were indeed directed at rival iwi rather than their own.

During the later 1640s, Arapeta began to campaign more explicitly on religious grounds. He proclaimed his own iwi to be more harmonious, his own mana superior, and he encouraged other ariki hapū to join his iwi, voluntarily or by force if necessary. Since he had better access to iron weapons and muskets, many other ariki hapū concluded that Arapeta’s mana was indeed superior [4].

In 1647, Tūhoe, the leader of the Te Arawa iwi, who lived on the western coast of Te Waipounamu [South Island], became the second ariki iwi to convert to Plirism. Tūhoe converted in part to ensure stability amongst his own people, since many of his own ariki hapū were Plirite, and growing increasingly discontented with a traditionalist ruler. However, Tūhoe also hoped that conversion would provide his iwi with better access to Nuttana-traded muskets and iron-working. He was correct in that belief, and the Te Arawa began a similar campaign of religious-driven expansion across Te Waipounamu.

The course of the Harmony Wars became bloodier, and more complicated, when the Compagnie d’Orient started establishing missions in Aotearoa. Relative to other Kehua [European] states, French involvement came late to the Third World. French attempts to exploit the spice trade had begun around the turn of the seventeenth century, but they had been largely unsuccessful, due to Dutch and Spanish competition. Increasing tales of gold and spices, together with the cessation of the great religious wars in Europe in 1638, revived French interest in the Spice Islands. Louis XIII chartered the Compagnie d’Orient in 1642 [5], and the first company ships were despatched to Madagascar in the same year.

The 1640s were the decade when the VOC and EIC began bitterly fighting the Proxy Wars in Toka Moana [Australia], striking at each others’ interests wherever they could. Any fledgling French efforts to establish a presence there would meet a predictable fate. So in the Third World, the CDO first turned to Aotearoa, as the largest area that did not yet have an established Kehua presence.

To Kehua merchants, Aotearoa did not have the same strong lure that Toka Moana offered. It held no kunduri, no large gold haul [6], and many of the more promising spices did not grow there. Still, Aotearoa was not without its attractions. The Māori cultivated common sweet peppers, and in the 1640s the market for that spice seemed limitless. Sporadic reports from the few Kehua who had successfully visited Aotearoa spoke of other plants which were nicknamed “Māori peppers”, and the CDO directors wanted to explore the potential of those spices [7]. Even if those new spices proved worthless, by now the Old World knew of the value of the new kind of flax found in Aotearoa. Ropes and sails from that fibre, together with timber, would allow ships to be repaired and perhaps even built there. At the very least, Aotearoa offered the CDO a base to probe for opportunities in Toka Moana.

So the Compagnie d’Orient made its first visits to Aotearoa during the 1640s. The first expedition, commanded by François Caron [8], arrived in Aotearoa in 1645. Fickleness of weather – that is, a strong south-easterly gale blowing at the crucial time – meant that Caron could not make his planned visit to the western coast of the islands. Instead, he rounded the southern tip of the island chain, and with better winds, sailed up the east coast until he landed at the first good harbour he found.

Caron had landed in the lands of the Waitaha iwi [9], at a place which the local Māori called Ōtepoti [Dunedin]. Here, he found that the Waitaha were cautiously welcoming of visiting Kehua. They had not had any direct contact with Kehua before, but had heard many tales, including exaggerated accounts of thunder-weapons. Caron successfully negotiated to establish a CDO base at what he called Port à Long [Long Harbour], and thus opened French trading relations with the Māori. Following this, he also visited other iwi on his voyage north: the Tainui around Te Whanganui-a-Tara [Wellington Harbour] and Rangitāne at Heretaunga [Hawke’s Bay] [10]. Subsequent CDO voyages converted that initial contact into outposts, too.

Trade with Aotearoa quickly became useful for the Compagnie d’Orient, if not quite as bountiful as the directors had hoped. Māori rope and textiles were everything which had been anticipated. Sweet peppers grew decently in Māori lands, and so were also exported. Māori peppers turned out to be more disappointing; not useless, but of marginal commercial value when compared to sweet peppers. The dreams of easy timber were found partially wanting, for the intensive Māori cultivation of the land meant that in many areas the good shipbuilding timber had already been cleared or was in demand for other purposes (especially fortifications).

Despite some disappointments, the islands of Aotearoa offered enough opportunity to maintain CDO interest. The French trading presence became quickly established in the late 1640s and early 1650s, with muskets and powder being the goods most desired by the Māori in exchange. Thanks to the newly-established French mission society (see below), a French religious presence followed, as some of the Māori converted to Catholicism.

With the Kehua involvement in Aotearoa, the Harmony Wars became both bitterer and bloodier. Introduced weapons led to more Māori warleaders willing to launch raids for glory or plunder, which inspired their opponents to trade for more weapons to respond in kind. This led to a rapidly-increasing spiral of demand both for weapons imports and revenge raids.

The burgeoning export market for slaves played an important role, too. Māori slave labour was increasingly desired by the Nuttana in northern Toka Moana, who used this labour to grow sugar, and then sell some of that back to the Māori. In a perfect vicious circle, the increasing availability of Nuttana sugar led to an increasing ability to purchase ever more Māori slaves, who in turn produced more sugar which the Māori ruling classes were ever keen to buy - and thus raided to obtain more slaves to pay for the sugar. Likewise, religious differences played a role, with a tripartite division into Plirite, Catholic and traditionalist iwi, with each faction using religion to justify raids or conquest of the other two factions.

The combination of these factors made the 1650s and 1660s the bloodiest period of the Harmony Wars, with unstable, ever-shifting alliances and ever more vicious prosecution of raids and conquests to maintain utu. This process can perhaps be best summed up in the words of Haast Eagle’s Julius Vogel: “The moniker Harmony Wars is the greatest oxymoron in the English language: harmony was the quality most readily destroyed by the course of that warfare.”

* * *

In 1622, Pope Gregory XV established the Sacra Congregatio de Propaganda Fide (Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith) to further the cause of Catholic missionary work around the globe, and to oversee ecclesiastical affairs in countries without established Catholic clergy. To further this work, in 1627 Pope Urban VIII created a missionary college within the Propaganda Fide.

Previously, Spain and Portugal had been granted exclusive papal authority to spread the Catholic faith outside of Europe. However, that system had shortcomings due to lack of resources, dependence on the monarchs of Spain and Portugal, and the colonial expansion of the Protestant powers of the Netherlands and England restricting the territories where Catholic evangelism could be conducted. The Propaganda Fide’s activities met with staunch opposition within Protestant regions of Europe; the first missionary was killed in the same year that the institution was founded [11].

With the end of the Twenty Years’ War in 1638, the religious boundaries within Europe were more or less stabilised [12]. The Propaganda Fide began to look to conduct missionary activities in the wider world, and more precisely to Asia, where previous Catholic missionary efforts had suffered reversals due to Dutch and English depredations. Portugal itself was rather less enthusiastic about this prospect, but nevertheless, some efforts continued.

In 1640, Alexandre de Rhodes returned to Europe. He was a Jesuit who had arrived in Southeast Asia in 1619, and conducted evangelical activities in much of what another history would call Vietnam, including writing the first catechism for the Vietnamese. Rhodes worked in Vietnam for ten years before being expelled because the Vietnamese rulers were becoming suspicious of Catholicism [13]. He spent nearly a decade in exile in Macau before he decided to return to Europe to seek papal backing for expanded Catholic mission efforts in Asia, to counter the growing Protestant threat [14].

Rhodes obtained his desired papal support, with the pope agreeing to send both bishops and secular priests as missionaries to the “Orient” – which, by papal definition, included Aotearoa and Toka Moana. Rhodes received vigorous support in Paris, both monetary and organisational, and this led to the creation of the Société des Missions étrangères de Paris (Society of Foreign Missions of Paris) in 1641 [15]. The pope agreed to ordain the chiefs of this mission society as bishops.

By fortuitous confluence, the timing of Rhodes’s call for apostolic volunteers coincided with the formation of the Compagnie d’Orient. The new company’s directors were glad to receive ecclesiastical support [16], and agreed to carry Society missionaries on CDO ships. The major early efforts of the Society were focused on building a presence in Siam, the Southeast Asian state most inclined to tolerate their presence, and closer to Rhodes’s desired target of Vietnam. But, following the trade ships, they also sought to establish missions in Aotearoa.

* * *

To those who view history in economic terms, the Harmony Wars can be described as a struggle over commerce. The colonial powers – the Nuttana and French, with smaller Dutch and English involvement – vied for preferential access to markets, both as buyers and sellers. The Māori fought each other to obtain control of economic resources, including the land needed to produce such resources.

While a great many goods were exchanged, the major commodities that the colonial powers supplied were sugar, muskets, power and iron tools, which were traded for Māori slaves, textiles, sweet peppers and other spices, timber, and naval supplies (principally sails and ropes). Some more macabre, populist writers would describe cannibalism as a major driver of the war, describing it as a “struggle for protein”. This was a myth; while Māori in earlier eras had practiced meaningful cannibalism, by this time the cannibalism was a ritualised part of warfare, nothing more. In truth, the major economic driver was slavery, both directly for trade to the Nuttana slave markets, and indirectly for the production of textiles and spices.

To those who view history in technological terms, the Harmony Wars can be described as greater bloodshed facilitated by improved technology. To foreign eyes, the most notorious aspect of this was the introduction of muskets and powder, together with iron- and steel-tipped hand-to-hand weapons. Certainly, this played a part. The first iwi who had access to “iron and thunder” were more successful in warfare – i.e. killed more of their enemies – although traditional weapons were still deadly. However, firearms and iron both became increasingly available through trade or increased domestic production (for iron), and by the later stages of the Harmony Wars, every surviving iwi used them.

Other technology contributed to the warfare in less visible ways. While the Māori already had bronze metallurgy, iron-working produced a revolution in quantity of available metal. Iron tools supported greater land clearing, more efficient farming, the development of armour, and better craftsmanship (such as in wood-working). The introduction of better shipbuilding technology allowed the transportation of larger groups of raiders further and faster than previously, and equally allowed more effective transportation of captured commodities (slaves, plunder) back to the lands of the victorious iwi.

The Māori also made their own technological innovations during the war. The traditional Māori [fort] had been complex affairs, with multiple level terraced earth ramparts, wooden palisades, ditches and other hiding places to allow ambushes, food storage areas, wells or cisterns for water storage, designated locations to allow fighting retreats, and escape passages. With the spread of firearms, the Māori refined the construction of . They simplified the multiple levels of palisades, since they were of less use against firearm-equipped enemies. In their place, the Māori introduced innovations such as trenches and other earthworks to protect the defenders, protective Aotearoan flax padding on the palisades to shield the defenders as they fired, and introducing flanking angles to the walls to allow overlapping fields of fire for the defenders [17]. By the later stages of the Harmony Wars, Māori fortifications and defensive earthworks were amongst the most advanced in the world.

To those who view history in socio-political terms, the Harmony Wars can be described as a process which began with the escalation of chronic small-scale warfare amongst decentralised polities but which developed into a process of political centralisation and the emergence of organised states. For during the earlier stages of the wars, most of the fighting was conducted by relatively small taua [war parties] of five hundred to one thousand warriors who might travel long distances before striking. By the later stages of the wars, Māori warleaders were routinely mobilising armies of more than ten thousand warriors and conducting systematic campaigns of conquest.

This social shift is perhaps best demonstrated in the change in meaning for the term ariki iwi. The phrase means literally “leader of the tribe.” While for ease it would usually be translated as “king”, the true level of authority of an ariki iwi varied considerably. In pre-war times, the ariki iwi had immense prestige and influence, but they were neither lifelong rulers nor absolute monarchs. An ariki iwi who was deemed to have lost too much mana [prestige] might find himself removed from office. Less severely, some of the ariki hapū might choose to switch their clans’ allegiances to another iwi if they deemed that the ariki iwi was mana-deficient.

In most iwi, even the transition of leadership from one generation to the next was usually not hereditary. On the death or deposition of an ariki iwi, the various ariki hapū would gather to acclaim a new ariki iwi. Sometimes the new leader would be from the same family of the departed leader, but sometimes the chosen candidate would simply be the current ariki hapū who was deemed to have the greatest mana.

During the Harmony Wars, the ever-escalating pressures of intensified warfare, together with the spread of organised religions that fostered centralisation, led to the consolidation of royal power. In one sense, the tale of these wars, particularly the later stages, is of the emergence of strong central monarchies and the development of a sense of statedom amongst the Māori. Successful ariki iwi expanded their domains, and now needed to exercise effective control over larger areas and ever-growing armies. The worsening toll of revenge raids led to frustration amongst the Māori, many of whom welcomed the prospect of a strong central ruler who could quell the eternal raids. Slavery also played a role here, as a form of political and social control while the more successful ariki iwi expanded their territory and needed to integrate their new subjects and quell rebellious elements.

In short, the Harmony Wars marked a shift in loyalties. Previously the Māori had followed personal loyalty to their leaders, but now they began to shift into a sense of belong permanently to a particular iwi and particular territory. This also marked the beginning of a transition for the lesser ariki, the leaders of hapū and whānau, into bureaucrats who ruled at the ariki iwi’s command, rather than semi-independent rulers of their own.

To those who view history in humanitarian terms, the Harmony Wars were a brutal and largely pointless waste of human life.

* * *

[1] Rīriri is the main allohistorical Māori word for war or warfare. Historically, Pakanga is used as the main general word for warfare (e.g. the Māori name for the Second World War is Pakanga Tuarua o te Ao). In the allohistorical Māori language, pakanga has evolved into a specific word for overseas raiding or raiders, while rīriri has become the general word for warfare or hostility. Paliri is the Māori pronunciation of the Nangu word pliri, “harmony.

[2] The three terms whānau, hapū and iwi existed in historical Māori society too, but had different connotations. Whānau referred more to an extended family than a locality, and hapū generally referred to smaller groups than the allohistorical equivalent; 350-500 people was the norm, although hapū sizes varied enormously. In historical Māori society, it was possible for a person to belong to more than one hapū; in allohistorical Māori society, membership of a hapū is exclusive, although individuals can still change hapū.

[3] Not that the iwi needed much encouragement.

[4] Some concluded this before being conquered, others afterward.

[5] This is 22 years ahead of when the equivalent company was founded historically. Such is the lure of gold. Or perhaps the founders were just influenced by kunduri.

[6] Aotearoa does in fact have gold sources, but the biggest reserves are in lesser-populated parts of the South Island (Otago and Westland), and ideally require ironworking to have sufficient metal tools to extract them, and so are largely unexploited by the Māori.

[7] There are two plants which the Kehua will call “Māori peppers”. One is a small tree which the Māori call kawakawa (Macropiper excelsum), whose leaves are bitter (hence the name, kawa means “bitter”) and used for various medicinal purposes, while its seeds are used as a pungent, peppery spice. Kawakawa is in fact a “true” pepper, related to black pepper (Piper nigrum), and its seeds are flavoured by the same compound (piperine).

The other kind of “Māori pepper” is a shrub that the Māori call horopito (Pseudowintera colorata) whose leaves are also used as a spice (with a hot peppery taste) and for medicinal purposes. Horopito is in fact related to sweet peppers; like them, it is a remnant of the humid Gondwanan flora which was once common across Antarctica, South America, Africa, India, Australia and New Zealand when they were joined into Gondwana. Horopito gets its culinary heat from the same compound (polygodial) that flavours sweet peppers. However, while horopito is used as an occasional spice, for the Māori its primary use is medicinal. This is because by the time the Māori learned about horopito, they had access to domesticated version of Toka Moana’s spices (sweet peppers) that had been bred for higher polygodial content. Both kinds of Māori peppers are in fact cultivated by the Māori as much for medicinal value as culinary appeal. They are unlikely to have much potential as export spices, but the Compagnie d’Orient directors won’t know that until they try.

[8] François Caron was the son of French Huguenot refugees, born in Brussels in 1600. Both historically and allohistorically, he first took service with the Dutch East India Company (VOC), and joined the VOC’s operations in Japan. Historically he worked in Japan from 1619 until 1641 (during which time he married a Japanese woman), and then served in several other high-profile roles before being recalled to the Netherlands in 1651 to answer allegations of private trade (he was acquitted). He later took service with the French East India Company in the 1660s, leading a failed effort to colonise Madagascar and then successfully founding French trading outposts in India.

Allohistorically, Caron’s wife and several of his children died from the Aururian plagues that swept through Japan in 1629-1633. Bereaved, he returned to Europe, and while he made a couple more voyages at VOC behest, he remained based in Europe. Caron is one of a number of French-speaking merchants and navigators whom the fledgling Compagnie d’Orient has lured to serve with them; they have paid high prices for people with knowledge of what they call the Orient.

[9] Historically, the Waitaha were an early (perhaps the first) iwi to settle the southern South Island. Once the moa were hunted out, their population declined, since Māori crops could not be reliably grown so far south. They were then conquered and partially (though not completely) absorbed by later iwi migrating south. Allohistorically, the Waitaha have benefitted from the introduction of crops from Aururia, which can be grown in the South Island (though more marginally south of Oamaru). So while they have been pushed south from some of their former lands, the Waitaha have not been conquered by other iwi.

[10] The areas inhabited by the various Māori iwi are usually different to those which they inhabited historically. While (most of) the Māori iwi that existed historically still live in allohistorical Aotearoa, different histories of warfare and internal migration mean that most of them have ended up dwelling in different regions.

[11] This is as things happened historically; the early years (post-1619) of contact with Toka Moana did nothing to change the course of these religious developments.

[12] Between Catholics and Protestants, that is. Not so much with other religions within Europe (Islam, Orthodox Christianity).

[13] Likewise, this is as things developed historically.

[14] Historically, Rhodes worked in Macau for ten years before returning to Vietnam in 1640 and then continuing further evangelical efforts. He was sentenced to death in 1646 for his efforts, only to have that sentence commuted to exile, and he eventually returned to Europe in 1649. Allohistorically, the depredations of the Aururian plagues, and the greater Dutch and English success in the Far East (due to their exploitation of Aururian resources) leads him to return to Europe sooner to seek more support.

[15] Historically, a similar society was proposed in 1650, but due to vigorous opposition from various groups (especially the Portuguese), it did not begin activities until 1658. Allohistorically, with Portugal busy fighting for its own independence, and with Protestant powers seen as a greater ecclesiastical danger, the society gets founded earlier.

[16] To say nothing of the Paris Mission Society’s funding, of course.

[17] Historically, the Māori came up with similar innovations during the later Musket Wars (1807-1845).

* * *

Thoughts?

P.S. For reasons of length, what was going to be a monster update has been split in two. This instalment has explored the domestic Aotearoan side of the Harmony Wars. The next instalment will explore the conclusion of the Harmony Wars, and how the warfare of the period produced the Pakanga raids and other overseas Māori activity.

P.P.S. For the next segment, I'm also trying to develop a map of Aotearoa after the Harmony Wars. If there's anyone who'd like to assist by designing a map, please let me know.
 
I must say I am intrigued by the idea of Maori warfare in the South Island. The OTL versions will not be particularly relevant here due to change in weapon types, earlier wars, more active European/other trading, deforestation and the like, but what will remain the same is vast mountain and hill ranges, likely covered in scrub or bush.

I don't imagine that Maori settlement patterns would be too different from British settlement patterns either, given that ATL's population density is more along the lines of the latter than OTL. In other words, everyone lives on the East Coast and Nelson Bays, no one lives in the middle spine. Perhaps only the West Coast would be markedly different, with a much higher population than OTL.

I imagine it will be a little like Scotland, in the early modern period. The lowlands will be heavily populated and the fighting will largely occur there, and the uplands/highlands will be lightly populated and hard to control. Then, given the PIRATE angle, we shall have shades of the Viking raids from Australian Maori, Europeans and of course, North Island iwi.

Here are sort of topographical maps of the middle of the South Island, to illustrate mountains

ngeo1582-f1.jpg


NZAlps.jpeg
 
Pure awesome sauce once again Jared.:cool: (except for the humanitarian in me that shares the opinion that it was indeed a waste of life:(, but humanity in general sucks)

The Maori's organization reminds how the Post-Classic Maya states organized themselves (at the Highland ones), with ascending levels of alliances. Though in the Maya's case they were a bit more similar to how the Maori ended up in later part of the Harmony Wars.
 
Are the territories of a given iwi generally contiguous, or might it have hapū scattered throughout the North or South Island?
 
Very nice update.

I have a feeling that giving the shifting nature of the various iwi that they very idea of creating a political map of Aotearoa during this period would be impossible.

"A land that another history would call Vietnam" So I am guessing that it is Nam Viet TTL.
 
Very nice update.

I have a feeling that giving the shifting nature of the various iwi that they very idea of creating a political map of Aotearoa during this period would be impossible.

"A land that another history would call Vietnam" So I am guessing that it is Nam Viet TTL.

Indeed. I would imagine the iwi would have lots of tenuous or contested lands, as per OTl, so a map would probably need lots of shading, ranging from core territories based around the traditional core hapu, then becoming less strong.
 
I must say I am intrigued by the idea of Maori warfare in the South Island. The OTL versions will not be particularly relevant here due to change in weapon types, earlier wars, more active European/other trading, deforestation and the like, but what will remain the same is vast mountain and hill ranges, likely covered in scrub or bush.

I don't imagine that Maori settlement patterns would be too different from British settlement patterns either, given that ATL's population density is more along the lines of the latter than OTL. In other words, everyone lives on the East Coast and Nelson Bays, no one lives in the middle spine. Perhaps only the West Coast would be markedly different, with a much higher population than OTL.

Yes, this is pretty much what I expected too. A much higher population, leading to greater deforestation etc (except in the more rugged alpine areas). Most notably, Westland in OTL preserved just about the only lowland forest left on the main islands; ITTL, it's got a significantly higher population.

While the general settlement patterns will be mostly like Europeans (east coast, Nelson), due to the more limited transportation, there will be no real large cities, but lots and lots and lots of small settlements. Essentially, wherever there's water and semi-flat ground, there's a settlement.

In OTL, the Māori had a saying about the Waikato River which may well apply here too: Waikato taniwha rau. He piko he taniwha, he piko he taniwha. "(River) Waikato of many water-monsters (i.e. chiefs). At every bend of the river, a chief."

The same thing will probably apply to most of the rivers of the east coast of the South Island, throughout Canterbury and Otago. Generally speaking, the further north within the South Island, the higher the population density, since there's a longer growing season for the red yam (the critical crop), but even in southern Otago/Southland, there'll still be lots of settlements. (At every bend of the Clutha, a chief.)

Peeling back the veil a bit, the mostly like post-war outcome for the South Island is three kingdoms, one in Nelson-Westland, one in northern Canterbury-Marlborough, and one in southern Canterbury-Otago-Southland-Stewart Island. With Fiordland being practically uninhabited, but a handy pirate base.

I imagine it will be a little like Scotland, in the early modern period. The lowlands will be heavily populated and the fighting will largely occur there, and the uplands/highlands will be lightly populated and hard to control. Then, given the PIRATE angle, we shall have shades of the Viking raids from Australian Maori, Europeans and of course, North Island iwi.

A good analogy. While there will be some efforts to strike through the passes in the Southern Alps, that won't be easy. During the early stages of the wars, Haast Pass, Lewis Pass and Arthur's Pass will all be used as passage occasionally; in the later stages, they will probably be fortified or watched. Of course, much of the long distance raiding would occur by sea, particularly between the west coast and east coast.

The highlands will be fun for anyone to try to control, yes. Probably where a lot of disgruntled warriors from the lowlands flee, at least those who don't go overseas. And who love to raid into the lowlands.

Also plenty of raids from North Island iwi. (Though, to be fair, the South Island iwi will often return the favour in the North Island). European companies usually aren't directly involved in the fighting (preferring to just sell weapons), but there's no shortage of European adventurers around the place. Plus Māori going back and forth across the Tasman in raids, etc, etc. A right old mess, basically.

In some ways it's a shame that I can't go into more detail about the kinds of warfare happening there, but at least for the main thread of the timeline, I'm mostly planning to move on to later events after the next wrap-up instalment. Possibly room for a return to this aspect at a later stage, and this is also one potential area where I'd consider guest posts if someone is feeling particularly inspired. (PM me first before writing things, though; I don't want someone to waste time writing something that would be contrary to what I have planned for the timeline.)
 
... The leader and warriors of a whānau could change to another hapū, and while it was less frequent, a hapū could also change between iwi.

* * *

Thoughts?
Interesting as always.

How does physical contiguity affect this? Would it be harder (or even impossible) for a whānau or hapū to switch allegiance to a non-contiguous hapū or iwi? If one becomes isolated from its hegemon, what happens?

If a hapū switched, would all its whānau come along, or would it be likely for some to break off and remain with the old iwi?

BTW, I learned recently that grass is not native to New Zealand. The native ground cover was ferns. Sheep grazing wasn't possible till grass got there and displaced the ferns.
 
Pure awesome sauce once again Jared.:cool: (except for the humanitarian in me that shares the opinion that it was indeed a waste of life:(, but humanity in general sucks)

To be sure, reading through a lot of human history is depressing, given the human penchant for pointless bloodshed.

The Maori's organization reminds how the Post-Classic Maya states organized themselves (at the Highland ones), with ascending levels of alliances. Though in the Maya's case they were a bit more similar to how the Maori ended up in later part of the Harmony Wars.

Interesting comparison. I hadn't actually thought of the post-classic Maya states, but they do have some relevance. I may have to do a bit more mining of potential ideas during the Ten Kingdoms (post-HW) stage of Māori history.

Very nice update.I have a feeling that giving the shifting nature of the various iwi that they very idea of creating a political map of Aotearoa during this period would be impossible.

And even before this period, really. It would given even cartographers of the Holy Roman Empire (with its 300+ states, at one stage) a headache. Any map would be out of date pretty much as soon as it was drawn.

The post-HW political map will be much more straightforward, at least.

"A land that another history would call Vietnam" So I am guessing that it is Nam Viet TTL.

Mostly a reflection of the fact that at this stage, the modern state of Vietnam was not united, but divided into about 3 (I think) states.

What that ends up in TTL's twentieth century... well, we're a very, very long way from that stage of the story. :D Though I do hope to pick up the pace a fair bit from now on.

Indeed. I would imagine the iwi would have lots of tenuous or contested lands, as per OTl, so a map would probably need lots of shading, ranging from core territories based around the traditional core hapu, then becoming less strong.

Quite. During this era, there would be lots of shading, overlapping claims, and generally a right old mess. Each iwi would have a few core territories which would be reasonably stable, but everything else would move around frequently.

Things are much more stable - though certainly not fixed - at the end of the Harmony Wars.

Glad to see the French have finally made it in :D

Yes; you can't keep the most populous state in Europe out of things forever.

Besides Aotearoa, the French do have some influence in a couple of other places, too. As has been touched on (very briefly) in the instalment which dealt with the end of the Proxy Wars, the French also have some influence in *Tasmania and a couple of places on the east coast. Their presence is still very small when compared to the Dutch or even the English, though.

Are the territories of a given iwi generally contiguous, or might it have hapū scattered throughout the North or South Island?

Depends on the era. In the pre-HW time - and for the early stages of that war - then an iwi's territories are usually near each other, but not necessarily contiguous. It depends on which hapū decide to change allegiance, the fates of warfare, and so on. There wouldn't be territories ridiculously far apart, since part of the requirement is to be close enough to provide common defence. So no iwi with one hapū in Whangarei and another in Whanganui, for instance. But a certain element of non-contiguous territory was possible.

During the worst stages of the Harmony Wars (1650-1670), things were a confusing mess. What with frequent raids, displaced peoples migrating, hapū shifting allegiance, deaths of old leaders breaking down personal loyalties, pretty much every surviving iwi had some non-contiguous territory for a while.

By the end of the Harmony Wars, things had stabilised a lot more. With the major armies that were being mobilised, and the erosion of the independence of the lesser ariki, things moved much more toward contiguous territory. With a couple of minor exceptions, by the end of the wars, pretty much every iwi has contiguous territory. Though the individual hapū within it may not necessarily be contiguous.

How does physical contiguity affect this? Would it be harder (or even impossible) for a whānau or hapū to switch allegiance to a non-contiguous hapū or iwi? If one becomes isolated from its hegemon, what happens?

If a hapū switched, would all its whānau come along, or would it be likely for some to break off and remain with the old iwi?

Physical contiguity (or at least proximity) made it much easier to switch allegiance, but was not automatically necessary. If the distance was too great, or if there were particularly hostile neighbours in between, then in practice the allegiance would not hold. The relevant whānau or hapū would need to switch to someone who could offer meaningful protection.

But if the neighbours were not particularly hostile, then it would still possible to remain non-contiguous. This was partly due to the Māori tradition of hospitality - except for avowed enemies' territory, it was perfectly possible for a warband to negotiate passage across neutral territory to provide support for a non-contiguous whānau or hapū. (And with fortifications, also possible for an isolated group to hold out until help arrived.)

Where a hapū switched, in most cases all of the whānau would come along with it. However, this was not really a dictation of terms from the ariki hapū, but a reflection of the general will of the ariki whānau. Because of the Māori tradition of influential people meeting at the marae (meeting hall) to discuss a situation before making a decision, then the ariki hapū would know the attitude of his lesser leaders, and take that into account before deciding to switch.

It would, of course, be possible for a few holdout whānau to decide to switch to another hapū and so remain with the old iwi. Because of the nature of how these decisions were made, those whānau would usually have time to prepare themselves.
By the end of the Harmony Wars, the power of lesser ariki to switch has been reduced enough that this is less of an issue. Not completely gone, but much less of a concern.

BTW, I learned recently that grass is not native to New Zealand. The native ground cover was ferns. Sheep grazing wasn't possible till grass got there and displaced the ferns.

Hmm. I'm not sure about that. There's definitely some grass species that are native to New Zealand. Off the top of my head, there's the tussock grasslands in New Zealand, which are a distinctive feature in some of the highland regions (and take several centuries to grow, so they're not just recent invaders). The tussock grasslands of Fiordland are where the takahē hid when it was believed extinct for 50 years.

There's also the "weeping rice" (Microlaena stipoides) which I have suggested as being domesticated in *Australia - it's also native to New Zealand. It grows in NZ together with 3 other Microlaena species, though the others are much less common nowadays. See here, for example.

But there are certainly a lot of ferns in New Zealand, too. It's entirely possible that the ferns were the predominant plants, and the native species of grass which did exist in New Zealand weren't really suitable for large-scale sheep grazing, and so sheep husbandry only become practical after introduced grasses spread.
 
Mostly a reflection of the fact that at this stage, the modern state of Vietnam was not united, but divided into about 3 (I think) states.

More or less, Two Warlord families fighting each other for power while a puppet emperor twiddled his thumbs. With Champa kingdom slowly but surely losing ground to the Nguyen Lords.

Nice opportunity for anyone wanting to sell guns

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trịnh_lords

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nguyễn_lords

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Champa
 
More or less, Two Warlord families fighting each other for power while a puppet emperor twiddled his thumbs. With Champa kingdom slowly but surely losing ground to the Nguyen Lords.

Nice opportunity for anyone wanting to sell guns

Intriguing prospect! I have no idea how involved the VOC was in Vietnam at this stage in OTL, but perhaps with extra money to throw around they may become involved (or more involved) ITTL. Perhaps the French or Nuttana, too, though they have less of a presence- the French because of their late start in the Far East, and the Nuttana because they can't buy an unlimited number of guns from Japan.
 
Intriguing prospect! I have no idea how involved the VOC was in Vietnam at this stage in OTL, but perhaps with extra money to throw around they may become involved (or more involved) ITTL. Perhaps the French or Nuttana, too, though they have less of a presence- the French because of their late start in the Far East, and the Nuttana because they can't buy an unlimited number of guns from Japan.

VOC was involved. Not massively, mostly because, IIRC, on the very few things all Vietnamese factions agreed about was keeping strangers' presence in their affairs limited.
I am also under the impression that Vietnam was more or less able to satisfy the local demand for guns with internal production, but I may be grossly wrong on this point.
The French had some involvement in the area IOTL too, as it is obvious.
 
Interesting comparison. I hadn't actually thought of the post-classic Maya states, but they do have some relevance. I may have to do a bit more mining of potential ideas during the Ten Kingdoms (post-HW) stage of Māori history.

A lot of them were more stable - in terms of the membership of their segments - than the Māori currently are in, but I agree they could serve as good examples when they reach the Ten Kingdoms phase.

Here's a PDF link to a archaelogical article that really helped me grasp it (considering the Spanish chroniclers made far too much of a comparison to European ideas of nobility, while later archaeologists had a series racial bias, and tried to describe them in terms of more hunter/gather tribes). The latst translation of the Kaqchikel Chronicles, done by the University of Texas also does an excellent of job of explaining the subject.
 
A lot of them were more stable - in terms of the membership of their segments - than the Māori currently are in, but I agree they could serve as good examples when they reach the Ten Kingdoms phase.

Here's a PDF link to a archaelogical article that really helped me grasp it (considering the Spanish chroniclers made far too much of a comparison to European ideas of nobility, while later archaeologists had a series racial bias, and tried to describe them in terms of more hunter/gather tribes). The latst translation of the Kaqchikel Chronicles, done by the University of Texas also does an excellent of job of explaining the subject.

Wow, this seems excitingly interesting.
 
Top