In the remote Waimana Valley, the descendants of Maori prophet Rua Kenana need no reminder of the division a police raid can have on the Tuhoe people.

It is 91 years since the unarmed Rua was arrested at Maungapohatu by an armed force of 70 constables who killed two Maori in a subsequent gunfight, the worst clash between police and a Maori community that century.

The Herald visited Rua's grave this week and found his relatives and present-day followers angry at the parallels between his treatment and that received by their tribespeople on Monday in the neighbouring Ruatoki valley.

Their collective message: 91 years is not enough time to forget, let alone be scarred again.

Rua's great-grandaughter Tangi Munn said the Government needed to think about whether the latest raids had solved problems or caused them.

The similarities with the fatal raid on Rua were "overwhelming".

"Seventy police went in to get my koro back then, and 70 police went in to Ruatoki," she said. "It solved nothing then, and from what I am hearing from our people, it will solve nothing now."

Rua believed himself to be the successor to warrior and religious leader Te Kooti and gained a popular following after setting himself up as a New Testament-style prophet at the turn of the century.

He wanted the return of Maori land to Maori and to remove the Tuhoe people from Pakeha influence. He clashed with the prime minister of the time and became a political embarrassment - leading to a crackdown on him that included trumped-up charges.

This culminated in the 1916 shootings at at Maungapohatu, which began after a shot was fired as he was arrested - initially blamed on Maori, although historical argument now says it was the police themselves.

"The police were found wrong then, but they never admitted it," Munn said. "What scares me is that they were different times. We are in the 21st century now and as a country we should be beyond all this."

Munn did not believe that the "hocus-pocus up in the bush" police were describing was true. Camps and bushcraft were Tuhoe tradition, and New Zealanders should not be concerned. If some "silly buggers" had taken it too far, it was unfair an entire community had to be targeted for the actions of a few.

Munn said though the campaign against Rua had targeted him directly, "these police raids are hitting and hurting all of Tuhoe, and all Maori".

Similar feeling were expressed throughout the 20km valley which has a blockade at the bottom to stop American forestry company Rayonier coming in.

A man drew a long screwdriver in a threatening manner when the Weekend Herald approached.

Signs declare you are entering the "Tuhoe Nation" and visitors are allowed only as a "courtesy".

The council is refused access here in relation to the dispute and many residents refuse to pay rates let alone register their dogs or get firearms licenses.

The upper reaches of the valley has a 10-student Maori language school, four maraes and 40 homes.

There is little to mark Rua's grave, just a concrete tomb behind his final home at Matahi.

Munn works as a Maori spiritual healer and has set up the Te Wairua Ote Ora Trust in Waimana. She is a descendant of Rua by his first wife Pinepine, with whom he had 17 children. He had 10 wives in total.

Munn said Rua had predicted the complexities of modern life Maori would come to face, and advised his followers not lose touch with their Maoritanga. She believed Rua would be disconcerted by the way many Maori lived their lives today away from their land, family and traditions.

He had always believed that Maori and Pakeha could live harmoniously side-by-side, but that the colonists should not act as if Maori were there to be "tamed".

Munn said Rua would be worried about the events of this week, but would have a simple message for his people. "He would be saying: "no matter how things are, love one another and love your enemies. Find strength in yourselves."