Thursday, 3 September 2026

Has Te Pāti Māori just ruled itself out of government, or will Labour’s Chris Hipkins cave in, in the pursuit of power? 

Te Pāti Māori's "bottom line" policies of subordinating the sovereignty of Parliament to the Treaty of Waitangi and a separate Treaty of Waitangi Commission, together with a contestable $200 million fund to promote Māori sovereignty issues raise that question. If ever implemented these changes would be the country’s most profound constitutional changes since the establishment of Parliamentary government in 1852.

Two immediate questions arise from these proposals. First, in the highly unlikely event Te Pāti Māori finds a partner in government willing to implement them, how would that occur? A major constitutional change of this magnitude, assuming it was adopted by Parliament, would have to be endorsed by a public referendum, presumably by a two-thirds majority. Or is Te Pāti Māori intending to avoid that path and simply impose its plans as a political deal, the price of supporting a government to take office?

That raises the second more immediately important question. What is the attitude of the Labour Party, the only major party Te Pati Māori will support to lead a government, to these proposals?  So far, unsurprisingly, Labour has not responded to Te Pāti Māori's announcements and their implications, but it will not be able to remain silent throughout the election campaign. National and its allies will ensure that the spectre of Te Pāti Māori's bottom lines hangs over Labour, whatever Labour’s response.

Meanwhile, Labour has raised again the co-governance issue which was so controversial at the last election. Its loose-lipped liability, Willie Jackson, told a weekend television interviewer that Labour would probably have to find different words to describe its co-governance plans, and said subsequently that Labour would not be promoting “silly” co-governance arrangements. All this did was make it clear that co-governance in whatever form remains on Labour’s agenda.

Te Pāti Māori's announcements and Jackson’s comments highlight Labour’s problems when it comes to meeting Māori aspirations. On the one hand, it cannot afford to ignore them and expect to retain its Māori support base. But, on the other hand, it cannot be seen as embracing them too fully, for fear of alienating its own conservative working-class base and floating, middle of the road voters, wary of such issues.

Chris Hipkins’ ongoing equivocation about whether
Labour could work with Te Pāti Māori in government constantly highlights this dilemma. In the current situation, he knows that if he concedes before the election to Te Pāti Māori's bottom lines he will likely not be able to even contemplate forming a government afterwards. Yet without Te Pāti Māori on board, especially if its electorate-vote only strategy succeeds in creating a substantial overhang, Hipkins is unlikely to be putting together a government anyway.

There is a way out of Hipkins’ dilemma – if he is courageous enough to adopt it. He could take the position that Te Pāti Māori's bottom lines effectively rule the party out of being a credible potential partner in government, and that Labour would instead look to form a government with the support of the Green Party and the Opportunity Party. On current polling numbers, that combination would be a real threat to the current government.

Such a decision would put pressure on Te Pāti Māori's electorate-vote only strategy. If voters in the Māori electorates saw there was little likelihood of Te Pāti Māori being in government, they may well conclude they would be better off voting for Labour candidates. That would be to Labour’s clear advantage.

On the other hand, Te Pāti Māori may well be trying to provoke Labour to proactively rule it out of government contention, and so give it a form of martyr status, enabling it to campaign in the Māori electorates that the whole current political system is conspiring against them and Māori aspirations. If it succeeds, it could then choose to sit outside government on the cross benches and use its numerical strength to oblige whoever is in government to have to negotiate with it on every issue of significance.

However, another consequence could be adverse for the Opportunity Party and the prospects of a centre left government. Any increased overt reliance on the Opportunity Party by Labour before the election might lead voters attracted to the party by its stated non-aligned positioning to conclude it really is a centre left stooge after all, and to desert it. That would not be to Labour’s advantage.

Through all this Hipkins’ problem remains that in trying to balance these competing pressures, alongside Labour’s avowed small target strategy which has left the party looking as though it stands for very little, he continues to look uncertain and indecisive. On that basis, rather than rule out Te Pāti Māori's bottom lines altogether, he is likely to look to pouring enough cold water on them to soothe the concerns of anxious voters, while still leaving the door open to some form of post-election discussion.

Whether such a formula will defuse the issue is highly doubtful, especially if National, ACT and New Zealand First, as seems certain, seize upon it, and Jackson continues his record of unguided mouthing-off.

The Opportunity Party may yet hold the ultimate key, should it make it to Parliament. In what is describes as the interests of commonsense, it has already ruled out supporting any government that retains Winston Peters as Foreign Minister. So, it will now be interesting to see whether it chooses to apply the same yardstick to working with any government that embraces Te Pāti Māori's bottom lines to overturn New Zealand’s current constitutional arrangements.