Mr. President,
Mr. Secretary-General,
Friends
I greet you in te reo Māori, language of
the tangata whenua, or first people, of Aotearoa
New Zealand.
I do so not just because it is the same way
I would begin an address if I were at home,
but because there are challenges we face as
a world that I know no better way to express.
Māori concepts like kaitiakitanga.
The idea that each of us here today are guardians.
Guardians of the land, of our environment
and of our people.
There is a simplicity to the notion of sovereign
guardianship.
For decades we have assembled here under the
assumption that we narrowly cooperate only
on the issues that overtly impact on one another;
issues like international trade rules, the
law of the sea, or humanitarian access to
war zones.
The space in between has essentially, been
left to us.
We, the political leaders of the world, have
been the authors of our own domestic politics
and policies.
Decisions have been our own, and we have ultimately
lived with the consequences.
But the world has changed.
Over time we have become increasingly interdependent.
We see more and more often domestic decisions
that have global ramifications.
Physical events have taught us that in obvious
ways: oil spills that show no respect for
maritime boundaries; nuclear accidents and
testing, the impacts of which are never confined
to the exact location in which they occur.
But our interdependence, our connection, runs
so much deeper than that, and experiences
in recent years should lead us to all question
whether any of us ever truly operate in isolation
anymore.
This is a question that we, the remote but
connected nation of New Zealand, have been
grappling with this year.
There are things that we are well known for
in New Zealand.
Green rolling hills, perfect you might say
for hobbits to hide and for plenty of sheep
to roam.
We’re known for manaakitanga, or the pride
we take in caring for our guests, so much
so that it even extends to our most entrenched
sporting rivals.
And now we are known for something else.
The 15th of March 2019.
The day an alleged terrorist undertook the
most horrific attack on a place of worship,
taking the lives of 51 innocent people, devastating
our Muslim community and challenging our sense
of who we are as a country.
There is no changing a nation’s history,
but we can choose how it defines us.
And in Aotearoa New Zealand, the people who
lined up outside of mosques with flowers,
the young people who gathered spontaneously
in parks and open spaces in a show of solidarity,
the thousands who stopped in silence to acknowledge
the call to prayer seven days later, and the
Muslim community who showed only love – these
are the people who collectively decided that
New Zealand would not be defined by an act
of brutality and violence, but instead by
compassion and empathy.
Make no mistake though, we do not claim to
be a perfect nation.
While we are home to more than 200 ethnicities,
that does not mean we are free from racism
or discrimination.
We have wounds from our own history that,
250 years on from the first encounters between
Māori and Europeans, we continue to address.
But since the terrorist attack in New Zealand,
we have had to ask ourselves many hard and
difficult questions.
One example sticks in my mind.
It was only days after the shooting and I
visited a mosque in our capital city.
After spending some time with community leaders
I exited and walked across the car park where
members of the Muslim community were gathered.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a young
boy gesture to me.
He was shy, almost retreating towards a barrier,
but he also had something he clearly wanted
to say.
I quickly crouched down next to him.
He didn’t say his name or even hello, he
simply whispered “will I be safe now?”
What does it take for a child to feel safe?
As adults, we are quick to make the practical
changes that will enable us to say that such
a horrific act could never happen again.
And we did that.
Within 10 days of the attack we made a decision
to change our guns laws and banned military
style semi-automatic weapons and assault rifles
in New Zealand.
We have started on a second tranche of reforms
to register weapons and change our licensing
regime.
These changes will help to make us safer.
But when you’re a child, fear is not discrete,
and it cannot be removed through legislative
acts or decrees from parliament.
Feeling safe means the absence of fear.
Living free from racism, bullying, and discrimination.
Feeling loved, included and able to be exactly
who you are.
And to feel truly safe, those conditions need
to be universal.
No matter who you are, no matter where you
come from, no matter where you live.
The young Muslim boy in Kilbirnie, New Zealand,
wanted to know if I could grant him all of
those things.
My fear is, that as a leader of a proudly
independent nation, this is one thing I cannot
achieve alone.
Not anymore.
In our borderless and technologically connected
world, commentary on race, acts of discrimination
based on religion, gender, sexuality or ethnicity
- they are not neatly confined behind boundaries.
They are felt globally.
The fact I received so many letters from Muslim
children from around the world in the weeks
after March 15 speaks to the power of connection.
These children had no sense of distance.
They may have never heard of New Zealand before
March 15.
They just saw an act of hatred against their
community, and it felt close to them.
Whether it is acts of violence, language intended
to incite fear of religious groups, or assumptions
about ethnicities to breed distrust and racism
– these actions and utterances are as globalised
as the movement of goods and services.
Children hear them.
Women hear them.
People of faith hear them.
Our rainbow communities hear them.
And so now, it’s our turn to stop and to
listen.
To accept that our words and actions have
immeasurable consequences.
And to speak not only like the whole world
is listening, but with the responsibility
of someone who knows a small child somewhere
might be listening too.
The spaces in which we communicate are part
of this challenge too though.
In an increasingly online world we need to
create spaces for the exchange of ideas, the
sharing of technology and free speech, while
also acknowledging the potential for this
technology to be used to cause harm.
March 15 was a staggering example of such
harm, and a deliberate effort to broadcast
terror on a massive, viral scale over the
internet.
The alleged terrorist didn’t just take the
lives of 51 people, he did it live on Facebook.
In the first 24 hours after the attack, Facebook
took down 1.5 million copies of the livestream
video.
YouTube saw a copy of the video uploaded,
at times, as fast as once every second during
the same period.
The alleged terrorist used social media as
a weapon.
The attack demonstrated how the internet,
a global commons with extraordinary power
to do good, can be perverted and used as a
tool for terrorists.
And so what happened in Christchurch, as well
as a profound tragedy, is also a complex and
ongoing problem for the world.
And it’s a problem we felt a sense of responsibility
to do something about, so we sought to collaborate
with the technology companies so integral
to the solution.
Two months after the attacks, leaders gathered
in Paris for the Christchurch Call, bringing
together companies, countries and civil society,
and committing to a range of actions to reduce
the harm this content can cause.
In doing so we have kept our focus on the
deeper aim we all want: technology that unleashes
human potential, not the worst in us.
Yesterday, I met with Call supporters to check
on our collective progress.
We announced that a key tech industry institution
will be reshaped to give effect to those commitments
– and we launched a crisis response protocol
to make sure that we can respond to such events
should they happen in the future.
Neither New Zealand nor any other country
could make these changes on their own.
The tech companies couldn’t either.
We are succeeding because we are working together,
and for that unprecedented and powerful act
of unity New Zealand says thank you.
The centrality of technology in our lives
is not the only example of our increasing
interconnection, and our reliance on one another
if we are to respond to the challenges we
face.
There is perhaps no better example of our
absolute interdependence than the issue of
climate change.
When the United Nations Secretary-General
visited the Pacific region this year, he saw
first-hand how countries that have produced
the fewest greenhouse gas emissions are now
facing the most catastrophic effects.
In his words: “To save the Pacific, is to
save the whole planet.”
In fact seven out of the 15 most climate effected
nations in the world sit within the Pacific
region.
Places like Tuvalu, with a population of just
over 11,000 people, barely contributes to
global emissions but is paying the price for
our collective inaction.
Atolls so low lying that in weather events
the water on either side of it can flow together
and join at the narrowest points.
Engulfed by the sea.
Or Tokelau, a beautiful set of three atolls
that can only be accessed by boat, where the
children speak knowledgably about climate
change, knowing that unlike all of the challenges
their self-reliant forbears have ever faced,
this is one that is completely and utterly
in other people’s hands.
They have never met you, nor you them.
But I can tell you that their expectations
on us all are high.
Meeting those expectations will require us
to use every policy lever available – and,
just like the Christchurch Call to Action,
we need to work with partners inside and outside
government to make change.
In New Zealand, we have plenty of work to
do.
We may only make up 0.17% of global emissions,
but like so many others, our gross emissions
have been rising steadily since the 1990s.
That’s why we have coupled ambition with
action.
Over the past two years since we took office
New Zealand has produced our own Zero Carbon
legislation, which puts our domestic economic
transformation in line with the objective
of a 1.5°C limit in global temperature increase.
We’ve continued with our goal of planting
1 billion trees.
We have created a $100 million green investment
fund.
We’ve stopped issuing new offshore oil and
gas exploration permits.
We’re creating a plan to achieve 100% renewable
electricity generation, and to incentivise
low emission transport options.
And we’re supporting our Pacific neighbours
with projects to increase solar power, reduce
the use of diesel generators, protect coastlines
and stop sea water entering water supplies.
But some answers to the climate challenge
are easier than others.
The vast bulk of our greenhouse gas emissions
for instance, don’t come from transport,
energy generation or waste – but from one
of the things that we pride ourselves on.
Our food production for the world.
We know this requires us to adapt.
In fact our farming leaders have made their
own commitment to cutting emissions from food
production.
Over the next five years we will collaborate
with farmers to build systems in New Zealand
which every farmer will be able to use to
measure, manage and reduce their own farm’s
emissions.
We are doing this because we are unique.
Agriculture makes up nearly half of our greenhouse
gas emissions, setting us apart from our OECD
counterparts.
But we won’t stay out there on our own for
long.
When other countries cut pollution from traditional
sectors like energy and transport, their profiles
will start to look more and more like ours
does today.
New Zealand will never produce all the food
the world needs, no matter how many sheep
you may think we have.
But we can produce the ideas and technology
the world needs for everyone to farm and grow
in the most sustainable way possible.
New Zealand is determined to do good, and
be good for the world.
And that is why we are also focused on tackling
the billions of dollars that countries spend
annually on fossil fuel subsidies – billions
that could instead be spent on transitioning
to new forms of clean energy generation.
Despite commitments to phase out such subsidies
by groups like the G20 and APEC, we are still
struggling to see concrete action.
It’s time to do things differently.
New Zealand will once more be calling on countries
to support an end to fossil fuel subsidies
at the 12th WTO Ministerial Conference in
June 2020.
This week New Zealand alongside a group of
like-minded countries, will also announce
the launch of a new initiative that applies
trade levers to climate related goods, services
and technologies.
It’s time for trade deals to become a force
for good on climate action.
They need to stop allowing perverse subsidies
that incentivise pollution, and finally remove
tariffs on green technology.
Fossil fuel companies should no longer reap
the benefits of subsidies that many like our
farmers and others have been asked to give
up.
Without the billions in subsidies that go
to the fossil fuel industry, green energy
can compete on an even footing.
It’s both the most fair and economically
consistent thing to do.
My question is will you join us?
And this is where we return to the concept
again that challenges our modern political
environment.
We are being asked to make decisions that
are local, but with consequences that are
global.
And yet, it is what climate change requires
us to do.
That is what historically, our commitment
to the United Nations Charter and the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights, asks us to do.
It’s what standing up against acts of violence
and discrimination asks us to do.
Our globalized, borderless world asks us to
be guardians not just for our people, but
for all people.
There may have been a time when being unified
under common challenges was an easier concept
than it is today.
But undeniably, we are living in a time where
our greater reliance on one another, has collided
with a period of greater tribalism.
Now, it would be wrong to assume that this
is a new phenomenon.
Research in fact has shown that humans are
so inclined to form natural tribes that if
you put a completely unconnected diverse group
of people into a room and flip a coin for
each, those two groups will automatically
form a suspicion of one another based on nothing
more than heads vs tails.
Scientist and writer Robert Sapolsky recently
reminded us that humans organize.
Whether it’s class, race, country or coin
flipping– there has always been a tendency
to form us vs other.
But he also asks the question, what if we
change what ‘us’ means?
If instead of fierce nationalism or self-interest,
we seek to form our tribes based on concepts
that can and should be universal.
What if we no longer see ourselves based on
what we look like, what religion we practice,
or where we live.
But by what we value.
Humanity.
Kindness.
An innate sense of our connection to each
other.
And a belief that we are guardians, not just
of our home and our planet, but of each other.
We are borderless, but we can be connected.
We are inherently different, but we have more
that we share.
We may feel afraid, but as leaders we have
the keys to create a sense of security, and
a sense of hope.
We just need to choose.
Tatou tatou.
No reira, tena koutou, tena koutou, tena koutou
katoa.
