Saturday 5 July 2025 | Written by Thomas Tarurongo Wynne | Published in Editorials, Opinion
Thomas Wynne.
Two recent letters to the editor — one from a writer hiding behind the name “Joe TP”, and the other from my good friend and former Clerk of Parliament, constitutional commentator John Scott — raise timely questions about our sovereignty, our relationship with New Zealand, and whether we are independent or is it a high level of independence?
Perhaps this moment calls for us to pause, to reflect, and to engage in uriuri’anga manako — to ask, to discern, and to listen alone and together. Because good decisions are made with good advice and time to reflect. Poor decisions, however, are made in haste, without consultation, and within the isolated echo chambers of the few.
Professor Cheryl Saunders of Melbourne University reminds us: “A state’s independence is not a matter of performance but of recognition and legal foundation. Without that clarity, a state can act as if it is sovereign, but it does so in a void.” In other words, a country may feel sovereign — but unless others recognise it as such, it acts alone. So where does that leave us, when the United States not only recognised our sovereignty but also our independence in September 2023?
John Scott writes: “Nowhere was there any provision that even remotely permitted either the NZ Government or the Cook Islands Government to unilaterally, or bilaterally, reinvent what the people had decided.”
So should the Cook Islands hold a referendum to clarify our future status? Or should this be left to political leaders and the ministry heads who advise them? Or are we content to continue under arrangements made decades ago — arrangements now navigating vastly different global, regional, and internal circumstances?
As Bruce Ackerman once argued: “Constitutional legitimacy rests not just in the document, but in the people’s ongoing consent to be governed by it.” And how do we determine the consent of the people? By referendum? By public demonstration? By the outcome of the 2026 general election? Or all three?
Do we want full sovereignty — as some argue we already have — and the responsibilities that come with it? Do we want to preserve the benefits of association, such as New Zealand citizenship and support, even if it limits aspects of our foreign affairs autonomy?
Or is there a third course — not yet mapped — grounded in mutual respect, reciprocity, and constitutional clarity?
Joe TP concludes: “Efforts to reach a common understanding must be based upon reciprocity, with mutual respect as equal partners — and not a regression to some bygone colonial era.” But Scott counters: “You can’t have the sovereignty cake and eat NZ citizenship too.” Perhaps it is a cake we have eaten so often, we expect it to always be on the table. Or perhaps, Joe TP suggests it’s time to change the recipe — or the menu altogether?
In 1965, when we became a self-governing country in free association with New Zealand, the number of Cook Islanders living in Aotearoa was around 3000 to 4000. Immigration records show a significant increase in the 1970s, particularly after the completion of Rarotonga International Airport in 1973. In 1971, there were 7389 Cook Islanders in New Zealand. By 1976, that number had risen to 12,223.
Following the economic downturn of the 1990s, the Cook Islands diaspora grew significantly. By 2001, the New Zealand Census recorded 52,600 Cook Islanders — more than triple the population of the Cook Islands itself at that time. This growth made us the second-largest Pacific migrant population in Aotearoa.
Our numbers have since grown tenfold since 1965, and doubled since the 1990s, with close to 100,000 Cook Islanders now contributing to the New Zealand economy. Albert Henry could not have foreseen such a transformation — nor the constitutional framers of 1965 on either side of the reef. And because of this, we have a deeply vested interest in the decisions made at home. This is no longer just about constitutional ties to New Zealand — it is about our people, our futures, and our children in Aotearoa also – let alone the 27,000 in Australia also.
The late Professor Tupua Tamasese Tupuola Tufuga Efi once said: “The future is anchored in the clarity of our past.” Before we sail any further, perhaps we must return to that anchor — to the words of our founding documents, the intent of our former leaders, and tie these securely to the voice of our people today. Because one thing is certain: a nation adrift will eventually reach a shore — but it may not be the one its government envisaged, or its people intended.
And it is why I would contend that our country since 1965, has stood on four pillars and not three. Our Traditional Leaders, who we honoured with Ui Ariki Day yesterday, our Ekalesia, who provide spiritual guidance, and our government, responsible for stewardship of our nation. Alongside Aotearoa New Zealand, with the now 97,000 Cook Islands people who feed into that economy and inadvertently our economy at home.
Our Atamira, upon which our Ui Ariki will sit, has four legs — not three. The Kumete that will hold taonga on the paepae has four legs — not three. So, we must ask: Do we, as a nation, choose four legs or three? And if we choose, let it be by the will of the people — or not at all.