George Orwell once observed that “political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible… Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness…”. 

The current argument about whether the government’s decision to extend the so-called bright line test for the taxation of profits arising from the sale of non-owner-occupied resident investment properties from five years to ten years provides a good example. 

At present, capital gains arising from the sale of non-owner-occupied residential investment properties sold within five years of purchase are taxed at the taxpayer’s marginal tax rate (usually 33% or 39%, depending on their income level). The government has now announced the doubling of that five-year period to ten years, with virtually immediate effect. It argues it is doing so to rein in rapidly rising property prices and to curb speculation. It has also vehemently denied that this amounts to a capital gains tax on investment property sales, so does not break its earlier promises not to introduce such a tax. 

In classic Orwellian style, the Finance Minister has also denied it breaks his own earlier promise not to extend the bright line test. Rather than admit to an about-turn he merely says now that his original commitment had been “too definitive”. It is eerily reminiscent of the language of the fourth Labour Government where the phrase “we have no present plans to” actually meant that the decision was still being finalised. Both statements are true as far as they go, but they convey a clearly different meaning to those hearing them, which conveniently hides their true intent. But then no politician ever likes to admit to breaking an election promise. 

On the broader question of whether the extension of the bright line test constitutes a capital gains tax, the Prime Minister says it does not because it relates only to investment property and does not include land, shares, business and intangible assets as recommended by the Cullen Tax Working Group in 2019. But in the infamous words of Mandy Rice Davies “(s)he would say that, wouldn’t (s)he”. After all, she promised to resign if her government ever moved to introduce a capital gains tax. Most people took that to include property, the most prominent asset of all. 

For that reason, her comments have the air of Orwell’s “defence of the indefensible”, particularly given the “question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness” that has accompanied them. In reality, the only difference between the government’s plans for taxing investment properties, and the Cullen Tax Working Group’s own proposals in that respect is one of timing. Both propose taxing the capital gains at the taxpayer’s marginal tax rate – the only variation is that the Working Group wanted that to apply to all such transactions, whereas the government is limiting the scope to changes within a ten-year period. 

Admittedly, the Working Group also proposed including capital gains other than on property sales, something the government has ruled out so far. However, that does not mean, as the Prime Minister has argued, that the extension of the bright line test on investment property is not a capital gains tax because it does not include these other items. 

More important, though, is what impact the government’s moves are likely to have on cooling the increase in house prices and making housing more affordable for new buyers. The Cullen Tax Working Group was cautious in its 2019 report, saying that it expected “an extension of capital gains taxation would lead to some small upward pressure on rents and downward pressure on house prices. These impacts are likely to be small…”. On a broader front, the Real Estate Institute is already suggesting that based on its own sales figures the new higher housing price caps announced in the package will help less than 500 first home buyers. 

Herein lies the nub of the problem. The real issue with the housing problem in New Zealand is shortage of supply. We simply are not building enough new houses to meet the demands of our population. The Cullen Report emphasised the importance of other government initiatives in this regard, like the ill-fated Kiwibuild project, and there have been other reports over the last couple of years, highlighting the need to build more houses. 

Yet, despite its apparent largesse, this week’s package contained no commitment to a more expansive government sponsored affordable home building programme. Much has been made of the package’s multi-billion-dollar price tag as if that alone means meaningful, action, a good case of “sheer cloudy vagueness”, if ever there was one. 

Even when she ruled out the Tax Working Group’s recommendations for a comprehensive capital gains tax two years ago, the Prime Minister said she still personally believed there should be one on investment property sales. This week, she got her way, despite her persistent promises to the contrary. 

George Orwell would feel his point had been proven.

 

The issue of deporting people who have completed sentences in prison for criminal offences is a vexed one. It has been brought sharply into focus by the application of Australia’s so-called s501 policy which since 2014 has seen the deportation to New Zealand of around 2,000 people who had previously been sentenced to a term of twelve months or more in prison. Events over the last week regarding the apparent deportation of a 15-year-old child have sharpened that focus further and aroused some anger, although the precise circumstances of that case are still somewhat unclear. 

It is an accepted principle that countries have the right to send home convicted criminals who are neither citizens nor residents and many countries do so. New Zealand, for example, allows a residents or other form of visa to be cancelled and a person sent home if they have been sentenced to a term of three months or more in prison. 

But that is not the point at issue here. The objections to Australia’s deportation policy are less because of the policy itself and much more about the harsh and indiscriminate way it has been applied under both Labor- and Liberal-led governments. Often people have been deported to New Zealand after lifetimes in Australia, having left New Zealand as babies or small children, and with few remaining family connections in New Zealand. 

Australian Home Affairs Minister Peter Dutton’s callous analogy to putting out the trash may resonate well with his domestic electorate but exemplifies the contemptuous approach Australia has always taken to this issue. Australia’s response that it is simply putting the safety and welfare of its own citizens first does not justify treating those who do not fit as vermin. Their approach is completely out of step with a wider world that no longer tolerates discrimination against minorities in this way. 

I was Minister of Internal Affairs at the time when the deportation flights commenced. The first flight had not even obtained clearance to land in New Zealand prior to arriving, causing some panic in civil aviation and Foreign Affairs circles before it was finally permitted to land here. Moreover, the Australian authorities had made little effort to ensure any of the deportees on that flight had valid papers to enter New Zealand, leaving Internal Affairs and Immigration officials literally scrambling to process arrivals on the tarmac. Such was the contempt that underpinned the Australian approach. 

The difficulty all along has been that from a sovereignty standpoint Australia is following the provisions of its own law as passed by its Federal Parliament. The issue is therefore not a legal one, but a moral one, and Australia has shown itself to be utterly deaf to any criticism of it. 

It is symptomatic of the wider approach Australia has been taking since the early 2000s to New Zealanders who have made their homes in Australia. Despite the annual ritualistic invocation of the special relationship between the two countries each ANZAC Day, Australia has been moving steadily to ensure that New Zealanders living in Australia are treated no differently from any other non-Australian residents. The problem is, though, as the deportation policy typifies, because of the large number of New Zealanders living in Australia – well over half a million at last count – and the basic similarity of our cultures, treating New Zealanders no differently from other non-Australian residents is actually a form of discrimination. 

That is what makes the issue political and is why successive Prime Ministers from Helen Clark onwards have been vocal in their remonstrations to Australia about the policy’s adverse impact on New Zealand. Jacinda Ardern has gone so far as to describe it as a “corrosive” factor. However, reports this week that New Zealand did not raise its concerns with the United Nations when it was reviewing Australia’s human rights policy detract from this somewhat. 

Be all that as it may, New Zealand is right to take the moral high ground approach it has since the early 2000s and to push for better treatment for its citizens resident in Australia. While the brutal candour of Peter Dutton’s comments suggest the current Australian government is a lost cause, it is more worrying that the Opposition Labor Party is showing little enthusiasm to turn things around. But then deportation policy began during its last term in government. 

So, it seems an awful bipartisan consensus is emerging about New Zealand, reflecting once more the maxim that “all politics are local”. As long as the approach remains popular with Australian voters, as currently appears to be the case, the harsh reality is that awful consensus will prevail. More New Zealanders will be deprived of access to government health and welfare services in Australia, despite being taxpayers there, and more petty criminals will be deported to a country that while theirs by birth, they may have never known. 

It will be fascinating to see how Scott Morrison justifies this modern Australian interpretation of “mateship” and the “Spirit of ANZAC” this April 25^th.    

 

 

Around August this year a new Governor-General will take office to replace Dame Patsy Reddy upon the conclusion of her five-year term. A few months before then the Prime Minister will announce whom she has chosen to be the next Governor-General. Following the custom since the late 1960s it will be a prominent New Zealander and the Prime Minister has already indicated it will not be a former politician. 

Again, following the customary practice, the decision will be largely the Prime Minister’s, with the major Opposition party informed shortly before the announcement is made. There will be no public input into the process, nor will the nominee be subject to any form of Parliamentary scrutiny or endorsement. The Governor-General is, after all, the Queen’s Representative as New Zealand’s Head of State so in that respect is not subject to the approval of the New Zealand Parliament. 

The appointment of the next Governor-General is usually a process that passes under the national radar screen until the appointee is announced. However, recent events in the form of the Oprah Winfrey television interview with the Duke and Duchess of Sussex give added flavour to this coming appointment. Whatever view one may have about the appropriateness or otherwise of their actions, the impact and flow-on effects from their comments are likely to colour perceptions of the wider Royal Family for some time to come. For many, they will have confirmed that the Royal Family has been living in a world of its own for years, with no real signs anything much is likely to change in the future, if the attitudes of Princes Charles and William are anything to go by. 

The relevance of all this for New Zealand is that during the five years of the next Governor-General’s term it is more than likely that the long reign of the Queen will come to an end, and that Prince Charles will become King, and thereby New Zealand’s Head of State. The Governor-General will be his representative in New Zealand. 

That change alone is likely to bring into stark relief New Zealand’s future relationship with the British monarchy. There is undoubtedly deep affection and respect for the Queen in this country, which has stalled the steadily growing feeling here that it is time to become a republic with our own Head of State. There is no real sign that any of that respect or affection will transfer to her successor, meaning calls for cutting the umbilical cord with the monarchy and becoming an independent republic within the Commonwealth – like almost two-thirds of the Commonwealth’s members are already – will most likely intensify. The reaction to the Sussex’s interview may well fuel that further. 

A potentially complicating factor is the special relationship Maori have held with the British monarch since the signing of the Treaty in 1840. However, the reaction of the Maori Party to the Sussex’s interview suggests that special bond may not now be felt as strongly among younger Maori as earlier generations. Nevertheless, it will be an issue to be carefully navigated in any future constitutional discussions. 

Against that backdrop, the government should be taking the view that in all probability the next Governor-General will be our last Governor-General. It should be seeking to use the five years of the next Vice-Regal term to initiate the debate and referendum process needed for New Zealanders to determine whether we remain tied to the British constitutional monarchy, or whether we will become the republic that so many have described over the years as an inevitability at some point. 

Critical to that decision will be the role and form of our own Head of State. Ideally, we would move to a non-executive President as Head of State, following the example of the Republic of Ireland where the non-executive President performs a virtually identical role to that of our Governor-General, within a Parliamentary system of government headed by a Prime Minister and Cabinet. 

That then raises the question of the process by which the President would be chosen. In the Irish case, and in other Commonwealth republics, the process is one of direct public election, with terms varying between usually five and seven years. While candidates often run under party political labels, the connections are a little looser than in Parliamentary elections, given the more broadly based role that being President of the republic requires. 

If there is a sense of wariness or disdain for an elected Head of State on the grounds that could lead to the process and role becoming more politicised than is desirable, an alternative process would be for the President to be appointed by a super-majority (say two-thirds or three-quarters) of Members of the House of Representatives voting for the appointment. Were that process to be adopted it would require a transparent nomination process to be established to ensure that the best candidates were forthcoming. 

Over the years, New Zealand has been extremely fortunate to have been served by a succession of high quality domestically chosen Governors-General. But the concentration of the current process in the hands of the Prime Minister of the day, and the secrecy that attends that, would be neither adequate nor appropriate for the selection of the President of the Republic of New Zealand.

That needs to be much more an appointment of the people, by the people (or their representatives) than the appointment of the British monarch’s representative in New Zealand could ever be. 

Previously, successive New Zealand governments have been able to put off considering the republic question on the grounds that it was not the right time to do so. However, with the second Elizabethan era most likely drawing to a close during the term of our next Governor-General, the timing excuse will pass. 

All this adds interest to the appointment of our next Governor-General. Will the government use the appointment to signal that future change may be in the wind, or will it play safe with a very status quo appointment? Only the Prime Minister knows the answers to those questions, and for the time being, at least, she is not telling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last year the Prime Minister laid out an astonishingly simple but extremely effective plan for dealing with the threat Covid19 posed to New Zealand. It was basically to take advantage of our isolated location and seal our borders to keep the virus out until such time as there was a vaccine available to minimise the risk it posed. Until then, we would need to be prepared to accept some restrictions on our daily lives, including possible national or regional lockdowns from time to time. But, in return, we would be the first in the queue when vaccines became available, so any hardships to be endured would be relatively short-term. 

The deal seemed so reasonable that most New Zealanders readily bought into it and set about reorganising their lives accordingly. After all, all the indications then were that the disruption would be short-lived and that the advent of vaccines and the early access we were being promised to them would mean that it would not be too long before things were back to normal. 

All the while we were buoyed along by uplifting phrases like “be kind”, live in your “bubble” and play your part in the “team of five million”. People initially adopted an almost jolly and somewhat unreal approach to what was happening, seeing it as more an exciting new adventure to embark upon, so, not surprisingly, went along with it. After all, it was but a short-term problem that would pass soon enough, or so they thought. They listened intently to the daily media conferences and elevated the Director-General of Health to sainthood alongside the Prime Minister for “saving’ the country. 

A lot has changed since then. Our border control system has morphed into an extremely bureaucratic and complex managed isolation and quarantine system which is being breached frequently. Far from being at the head of the queue for a vaccine, we are now at least the 80^th country to begin a vaccination programme, lagging behind previous Covid19 basket cases like Britain and even the United States in vaccinating our general public. Despite the reassuring promises before the election, we are now told vaccination is not the same priority here as in other countries because we do not have the number of Covid19 cases they do. 

Massive government business support and wage subsidy programmes have shielded the economy from total collapse, although many small businesses have gone to the wall, and more look likely to do so in the coming months. Veiled government warnings suggest that the days of largesse may be coming to an end. And regional lockdowns, far from being rare and occasional, are becomingly increasingly common, with the eerie feeling abroad that there are more yet to come. 

Meanwhile, the virus has mutated, and more virulent strains have appeared. It is now by no means clear that it will ever be completely eradicated. Around the world knowledge and understanding about the virus, its spread and its impacts are constantly being updated as scientists and doctors learn more. 

This greater knowledge is also shaping public opinion about the virus and what happens next. If Covid19 is going to be around for a lot longer than first imagined, public response strategies will need to be adjusted frequently to remain relevant.  

Already in New Zealand we are seeing that the messaging we all responded to so well last year is now being increasingly ignored. It has been dismissed by young people as too old, too long and too boring to inspire their compliance. Yet the government seems slow to recognise the changing situation, preferring instead to cling to the approach that worked so well last year. 

And the previously unambiguous message is starting to look a little blurred. For example, Ministers are clearly frustrated and want people to “dob-in” those who are breaking the rules, but properly stop short of referring such instances to the Police to follow up. But that leaves the message appearing somewhat confusing, and the real point about following the rules gets lost as a consequence. Even the international media that has previously lauded New Zealand as the country to follow in terms of an effective, co-ordinated Covid19 response is now beginning to snigger at what is happening here. 

None of this should come as any surprise. Many other countries are suffering similarly from what is being called Covid19 fatigue, and it would be naïve and foolish to think New Zealand should be any different. The ongoing presence of the virus is starting to irk people wondering whether their lives will ever get back to normal. What makes things more difficult in New Zealand is the irony that because of our success to date in keeping the virus from our shores increasing numbers of people feel the battle has been won, making the compliance challenge that much more difficult. 

The events of the last week have shown that New Zealand’s Covid19 response strategy has reached a crossroads. Carrying on the way we are with the real possibility of more regional lockdowns, while mass public vaccination remains many months distant, will become increasingly difficult to enforce, even if the government was of a mind to. Relying on familiar reassuring faces delivering the same messages no longer has the impact it once did. 

Therefore, the government urgently needs to upgrade its strategy. It needs to rebuild its early partnership with New Zealanders (keep to the rules and in return we will keep you safe). The last thing it can afford to do though is resort to a “do this or else” approach that some are advocating. New Zealanders, many of whom feel they have already been through enough, will simply not comply with that. They have to feel included once more in what is happening, not just be told what to do and to fall into line. 

Therefore, the government needs to be more open about what is going on. The growing impression that it is controlling the flow and timing of information to its advantage needs to be immediately dispelled by more transparency. There also needs to be a precise public timetable for the national vaccination programme set out and a clear plan for its delivery made public. Rightly or wrongly, the current impression is that all this is being made up as we go along. It is simply not good enough given the earlier insinuations we would be all lining up for our jabs by now. The current shambles affecting the contact tracing system needs to be sorted out to ensure maximum compliance. In a word, the government has to inject a greater degree of certainty into what it is doing. 

But above all, the messaging around Covid19 must become much sharper and better targeted. All we need to know is the essential information – case numbers, spread and regional implications, vaccination details – without the  ritualistic press conferences, accompanying spin, endless explanation, and mawkish exhortations to be good. 

How the government responds to the changing public sentiment will determine the success of our Covid19 strategy from this point onwards. More of the same will just not be enough. Dark warnings about not complying will be disastrous – if we really are a team of five million, we should be treated like one, not harangued. New Zealand has come a long way in the last twelve months. While other countries have suffered more, New Zealanders have made many sacrifices and endured hardships in the pursuit of the national good. 

This is the time to reinvigorate the partnership that has already contributed so much to achieving that, not put it all at risk by blaming people when they do not follow the rules the government has decreed.

 

This is likely to be an unpopular column. But there are some things that need to be said, and some debates that need to take place. Over a year into the Covid19 crisis there is an unnatural air abroad where it is still not at all acceptable to question or criticise aspects of New Zealand’s handling of the virus. Yet our lives have been changed and customary freedoms impacted upon to the greatest extent imaginable outside of wartime. 

Let me make it clear at the outset that I am not questioning the broad sweep of New Zealand’s response to Covid19, nor am I making a political attack on the government or Ministers within it over the way they have handled things. My concern and puzzlement run deeper than that. 

One of the great things I have always admired about our national character is our inherent scepticism and talent for spotting cant a long way away off. We have always been a nation of doubting Thomases, wary of anything that looks new or different but more than willing to embrace change if the evidence justifies it. And even then we have always reserved the right to question and to probe as the journey unfolds, to make sure we are satisfied it is broadly taking the direction originally indicated. 

This agnostic scepticism has permeated our national consciousness for generations, it has been a constant theme in our literature and culture throughout. Our natural intolerance of people who are “up themselves” or think “they know what is best for us” is legendary as is our hitherto derisory dismissal of too much government interference in our daily lives as “Nanny state”. 

All this seems to have gone by the wayside in the wake of the arrival of Covid19. Any criticism now is quietly and apologetically whispered only, then quickly replaced instead by the near constant nauseating incantation of belonging to the “team of five million.” 

Some will point the finger at the government over this – I do not. They are doing their job, and are doing it well, although somewhat dishonestly. Despite their constant denials, they are treating the response to Covid19 in an inherently political way, from the staged daily press conferences that say very little, through to the tight control over the release of information, and the very small echo chamber of selected health professionals who, having had a hand in designing the policy approach, can then be relied on to endorse it uncritically. Whenever a dissenting health professional view has been presented, no matter the eminence of the commentator, it has been quickly dismissed and shut down as ill-informed or irrelevant. 

But the government is doing what any government would do in such circumstances – making sure that its decisions and actions are also good politics. That is what all governments do, and those that are good at it – like ours – get re-elected, while those that are bad at it do not survive. For example, contrast the differing fates of the Trump Administration and the New Zealand government at their respective elections last year. 

By way of balance, enabling us to assess whether the government of the day is performing well and deserving of continued support, we rely on the Parliamentary Opposition and the news media to analyse what is happening and provide alternative viewpoints for us to weigh up and decide on their validity. 

This is where things are failing at present. Two of our major media outlets – the state-owned Television New Zealand, and the Stuff network – have become mere mouthpieces, and in the particular case of Television New Zealand enthusiastic uncritical cheerleaders, for virtually every action that the government has taken. Even when the Director-General of Health changes tack on mass community lockdowns and insists there has been no change of approach, when clearly there has been, his assertions are reported faithfully without challenge, despite the evidence to the contrary. 

At the same time, whenever the Opposition has arisen from its heavy slumber to offer a viewpoint, these outlets have either largely ignored what it has to say or presented the story in the most negative and critical way. I am not defending any comments they might make, rather their right to speak out and be treated the same way as the government in the presentation of their views. The usual criticism from governments has been that the media were almost another version of the Opposition, something that could not be said at present. 

Worse than all of that, though, is that we as a population have acquiesced in all this. Our natural wariness and scepticism have given way to what amounts to an unhealthy fear of “rocking the boat” if we dare query what is going on.

That has been accompanied by a new sense of officiousness from people like transport officials or airline staff who feel they can bark instructions at their customers about what they can and cannot do in a way that would never have been tolerated as appropriate or even courteous a year ago. The “sheeple” are being skilfully herded into one narrow compliance pen, and, more is the worry, they do not appear to be objecting. 

With the advent of a vaccination programme here (at last) and small signs that the grip of the virus is lessening abroad, meaning something akin to life as we once knew it might be about to return, we need to recapture our proud national spirit of healthy scepticism and independence. That has been our national hallmark and our challenge now is to reclaim that, rather than continue to rely meekly on the government to tell us what we can and cannot do. 

The media has a critical role in ensuring that the diversity of national opinion can be heard again, without being immediately dismissed as negative or unhelpful. It is not its role to decide the value or merit of particular opinions – that is our right to decide for ourselves as citizens and voters, based on the impartiality and accuracy of the information we get from the media. It needs to recapture the capacity to constructively critique and stop treating all questioning as negative criticism. 

But above all, the community generally needs to snap out of the of mood of national sycophancy and uncritical compliance that has taken over the country in the last year. As New Zealanders we have been and are much better than that, and the time has come for us to start showing it again. 

This does not mean any lessening or wilful defiance of our national compliance response, nor that the government should change what it is doing. Rather, it is a straightforward case of calling for a return of the days where critical analysis and tolerance of independent thought were valued as important – the things we used to pride ourselves on – rather than more of the unadulterated, mealy-mouthed propaganda that has passed for news in recent months. We are a far more aware and intelligent country than the errant child the authorities have been happy to treat us as over the last year. It is high time we were treated as adults once more.

   

Citizenship is the gift that seems to keep on giving as far as Australia and New Zealand are concerned. The Prime Ministers of both countries are adept at using citizenship issues to their mutual advantage, to score political points with their domestic audiences. For Australia, deporting New Zealand citizens who may have lived most of their lives in Australia but have been in prison in Australia plays well with its voters, as does depriving dual citizens of their Australian citizenship if their primary citizenship is New Zealand. Or elsewhere. For their part, New Zealanders love nothing more than evincing moral outrage at heavy-handed and insensitive decisions affecting us, made by Australian politicians. 

It is a win-win for both countries, and both the current Prime Ministers are particularly skilled at playing the roles their respective countries expect of them. Scott Morrison is effective at the “Australia first, keeping Australia safe for Australians” game, which Australians like, while Jacinda Ardern is equally effective at the outraged humanitarian response which resonates with New Zealanders. It is great theatre – and both know it – which is why, with the frequency of cracked records, they will continue to play it, whenever they can. 

This week’s incident over the “terrorist” woman and her two children detained in Turkey is but the latest in a long line of examples. Knowing she was a New Zealand citizen, with dual Australian citizenship, Australia had no hesitation in earlier revoking her Australian citizenship. Because she was already a New Zealand citizen by birth, she would become our problem, but also would not be left stateless in the process. In that regard, she was in no different a situation than the large number of New Zealand citizens deported from Australia in recent years at the completion of sentences. 

The complication in this case, which sparked the New Zealand Prime Minister’s concern, was that the woman has two young children. Removal of her Australian citizenship has deprived them of the immediate right to claim Australian citizenship by descent (because they were not born in Australia) thus raising questions about their status in terms of the Vienna Convention on the Rights of Children. (Because they were born overseas to a New Zealand citizen by birth they face a similar situation with regard to New Zealand. They do not have New Zealand citizenship as of right, but can apply for citizenship by descent at a later stage.) Their position in the meantime is unclear – on both sides of the Tasman. 

The long-standing international principle which no Western nation seriously challenges is that those who become citizens of a country by virtue of being born in that country cannot be deprived of that citizenship, no matter their conduct. To that extent, Australia is right when it says it will deport those it regards as undesirable to the country of their birth, because they are that country’s problem, no matter how long they have been away from it.

However, it is at the extreme edge of moral acceptability when it applies the policy with the rigidity it does, often deporting at short notice people who may have not lived in their home country since they were very young children, and who may no longer have familial links that country. At the other end of the spectrum, New Zealand is on shaky ground when it objects to these returnees, who are legally our problem, being “dumped” here, but is on far stronger ground when it takes issue with the uncaring and callous way in which Australia applies its domestic policy, and calls out Australia for doing so. It is probably in the domestic political interests of both countries for there to be no immediate solution to this. 

The ritual we are seeing being played out right now regarding the current case is typically bizarre. Australia and New Zealand are taking pot shots at each other over the case, pointlessly each saying that the responsibility rests with the other, while the woman and her children languish in Turkish detention. And, as they snipe, the respective Prime Ministers score political points with their respective national audiences. 

That is where the current case will most likely rest, like those before it, were it not for the children. New Zealand’s Prime Minister has already expressed concern about their situation – about which very little has been said publically so far – and it would not be beyond the realms of possibility in this instance for New Zealand to be involved in mediating some form of solution which protects, while leaving their mother at arms’ length to fend for herself. 

The only certainty about this case is that the next time a similar case arises, like two seasoned performers, Scott Morrison and Jacinda Ardern will drag themselves once more onto the dual stage of high dudgeon and moral outrage to reprise the parts they have played so predictably over recent years, for yet one more curtain call. Until next time.     

  

 

Maori Party Co-leader Rawiri Waititi is emerging as one of the stars of the 53^rd Parliament. This is not yet because of the profundity of his comments – that may be still to come – but because of the style he has brought to his role. Already, he would be one of the most well-known Members of Parliament, a considerable achievement for someone elected from a minor party, currently Parliament’s smallest, for the first time at last year’s election.

In this is because of his physical presence – he is the first MP with a mataora moko or full facial tattoo in around 150 years. Add to that his distinctive hats, already the subject of much comment, especially when worn in the Parliamentary debating chamber, and Mr Waititi was clearly marked out as someone to watch, even before this week’s stoush with the Speaker over whether his hei-tiki met Parliament’s definition of appropriate neckwear for male MPs.

The hei-tiki affair is a complete storm in a teacup. It is neither the constitutional outrage Mr Waititi is trying to beat it up to be, nor the assault on Parliament’s Standing Orders the Speaker has implied. It has been clumsily and somewhat arrogantly handled by the Speaker, perhaps feeling under a little pressure following the Opposition making it clear they no longer have any confidence in him. The inconsistency of Mr Mallard’s reaction has been underscored by the fact that he had earlier allowed Mexican born Green MP Ricardo Menendez March to wear a Bona bolo tie on the grounds it was reflective of his culture. On that basis alone it is rather difficult to argue against Mr Waititi’s hei-tiki.

Nor is this issue about whether male MPs should be required to wear ties in the chamber. The Speaker has already polled Members on that point and the majority stated a preference to retain ties. Mr Mallard looked initially somewhat awkward protesting that in view of that he had little option but to respect Members’ wishes, even though he personally is against ties. Now, having changed his mind and rejected Members’ views, because of Mr Waititi’s stance, he just looks plain silly. Fancy tying himself into such a knot over neckties!

The real point of the hei-tiki issue is that Mr Waititi knows that like his hat, the hei-tiki can be quickly established as part of his brand as an MP to be used to his political advantage time and again. It marks him out as clearly different from other MPs, and that difference alone will attract interest in him, and, over time, what he and his Party have to say. Winston Churchill always referred to his Homburg hats, his cigar, and cane as his props, which served him extremely well for more than sixty years in British politics. I recall being counselled against wearing my trademark bow ties some years ago because they “drew attention to me”, which I thought was rather unusual advice to give a politician! (In fact, the real reason I wore bowties, aside from liking them, was the practical one that they are less likely to get in the way, unlike conventional neckties.)     

Mr Waititi has quickly grasped the importance of branding in politics. His cowboy hat and his hei-tiki will become his political trademarks. They have already drawn him to public attention, and he has used them to gain small wins over the system. Although there was already a Speaker’s Ruling from 1999 permitting MPs to wear hats in the Chamber, provided they did not contain advertising material or other slogans, hats have been rarely seen in the chamber during those years.  Mr Waititi was quick to draw attention to that Speaker’s Ruling on his first day in the Chamber, lest anyone challenge him. And now, with the Speaker doing a complete somersault and ruling that henceforth ties shall be optional it really is “game, set and match” to Mr Waititi.

Of course, the whole issue is utterly trivial to the public. It will have no impact on the issues that matter – Covid19, climate change and Labour’s housing crisis. But while the public will see this incident as yet another example of MPs being out of touch with reality, they will at the same take note of Mr Waititi. New Zealanders like nothing more than someone who is “agin the system” and who fights petty rules. Such a person earns one of our highest national compliments – “he’s a bit of a character.”

That is where Mr Waititi has already made his mark. But being a “character” will take him only so far. His props are his tools of the trade – they are not the trade itself. The bigger challenge ahead for Mr Waititi will be use them effectively to promote his wider political message to Maori and Pakeha, to secure his re-election in 2023.