After the Mt Albert byelection and with Labour stuck in polling doldrums, the case for Jacinda Ardern’s elevation to the deputy leadership had become irresistible. But what happens when she overtakes Little in the preferred leader polling, wonders Toby Manhire

The politics gods’ simmering fury with the New Zealand Labour Party was evidenced again on the weekend, when the landslide byelection victory of Saturday night was greeted with a Sunday morning hangover full of speculation about the leadership. The cork had barely left the bottle before Jacinda Ardern’s big win in Mount Albert was being cited as cause for the jettisoning of deputy leader Annette King, with Andrew Little assailed by questions over whether he had the leadership cojones to make it happen.

“There is no vacancy,” was the clenched response from both Little and Ardern. But there is now. King, who will turn 70 before this year’s election, has this morning announced that she’ll stand down in September and relinquish the deputy role, while endorsing as her successor Ardern, who was three years old when King first entered parliament in 1984.

It’s quite a lurch in direction from her position on Monday, when she came out guns a’blazing, telling the Herald that she was a victim of ageism and had no intention of stepping down. “She even went a little bit Trump,” wrote Claire Trevett, “accusing media of having a vendetta against her.”

That reaction may have proved a large part of her undoing: it added a burst of oxygen to what had up to that point presented substantially as pundit-driven, filling the void of a deeply undramatic byelection aftermath.

And while the tenor of much the coverage may leave an impression that the deputy leader position is of colossal importance, when it mostly just isn’t, the arguments in favour of Ardern – who, remember, stood on a ticket with Grant Robertson, dubbed “Gracinda”, in the party leadership race after the last election – are overwhelming. She’ll be a constituency MP after the next election (King was going list only), she lives in Auckland, where Labour has to up its game considerably if it’s to get anywhere close to government in September. And while King seems to some extent cut from the same old Labour cloth as Little, Ardern is the face of the party’s younger, urban tribe.

Perhaps as important as all that, however, is what it says about Andrew Little’s leadership.

King, whose contribution to a party she joined 45 years ago can hardly be overstated, felt the need to emphasise in her statement that “this is totally my decision”, and told media this morning that there was “no pressure to step aside” and “I can assure you there was no challenge … If I’d wanted to stay there I’d still be there”. But whatever the truth of that it will do Little no harm whatsoever to leave the impression that he has a ruthless streak after all.

Labour surely needed a gust of fresh air, six months out from the 2017 election campaign. Usual caveats about the haphazard nature of their polls notwithstanding, the Roy Morgan numbers published yesterday were grim, grim, grim – down one per cent to 26%, a whisker above their catastrophic result in the 2014 election. Whatever King’s popularity and proficiency in caucus, the case for change had become irresistible.

The risk for Little, meanwhile, is that the elevation of Labour’s rising star might fuel conjecture about leadership challenges, whether from Ardern or in tandem with Robertson. For what it’s worth my guess is that she’s genuinely ambivalent, at best, about any future tilt for the top job. But whatever her appetite, there’s a more than decent chance that she could in the coming months overtake Little in the preferred leader polling, which would be hellishly embarrassing, at the very least. And should Labour flunk again in September, she will be expected by many to stick her hand up.

The caucus will now vote, on Tuesday next week, for a new deputy – and it’s pretty well inconceivable that they’ll do anything other than unanimously back a sole candidate, in the form of the recently elected member of parliament for Mt Albert. Mind you, given the party’s recent run, not to mention the wrath of the gods, nothing can be taken for granted.

The National leader’s mana-enhancing approach was as impressive as the Labour leader’s ‘not kaupapa’ outburst was depressing, says Carrie Stoddart-Smith.

Bewitched by a glass (or two) of smooth red merlot, intoxicated by the ambience of festoon lights nestled among the grapevines in the Hawkes Bay, I sputtered out to the universe (via Twitter) that I could potentially vote for Bill English. To pre-empt the incoming derp: so fucking middle class. I know.

Allow me to provide some context. I was at a function. The theme: whanaungatanga and the importance of Māori business and cultural relationships with China.

Māori economic development is my jam. Māori are leaders in the business world. Although not yet the big money makers, our goods and services are in demand in key international markets. Our business models and stories are envied and cherished. Our iwi asset holding companies, hapū organisations, Māori authorities and business rangatira and entrepreneurs have been able to tap into major markets – despite our scale issues – and forge connections with each other and with economic giants of the world. They do this through practising tikanga, and more specifically whanaungatanga. As such, our business models are evolving, shaping and transforming our domestic industries and our international relationships.

Enter the Right Honourable Bill English sans the dry balls speech. Speaking candidly to the aspirations of Māori, celebrating the success of Māori models, insisting on the importance of government enabling Māori to lead on their own solutions, and a few jokes at his own expense to whakawhanaungatanga with the audience and it happened – cue *heart eye emoji*. It came on the back of weeks of headlines and think pieces referring to Māori aspirations as “elitist” or questioning the quantum and quality of the Māori-ness of some of our most esteemed leaders. Enamoured by English’s mana-enhancing approach in revering our rangatira Māori, I made my shocking Twitter proclamation.

That day in particular, Andrew Little referred to people whom I and many others respect with all our heart as “hopeless” and claimed the only indigenous designed, led and comprised party in parliament, the Māori Party, was not “kaupapa Māori”. A Pākehā seeking the vote of our Māori peoples for his kaupapa Pākehā party, deciding what constituted kaupapa Māori.

Now, I fully tautoko that there will never be just one kaupapa Māori politics because Māori society is dynamic and made up of “peoples”, ie hapū and iwi are not a homogenous “people”. For me, kaupapa Māori politics is fundamentally about whanaungatanga, manaakitanga and aroha. It is a lived story that does not care for political colours; its focus will always be the kaupapa and the tikanga. However, as I wrote in my chapter “Radical Kaupapa Māori Politics” in the Morgan Godfery-edited BWB text The Interregnum:

To ensure that kaupapa Māori retains its distinctively Māori core we must actively prevent Pākehā narratives from wilting our commitment to retrieve political space. This is the only way we will dismantle the vestiges of colonisation, transform how we interact in a multicultural society, become the architects of our own solutions, and counteract the unequal distribution of power in Aotearoa New Zealand.

Little’s comments were obtuse, intended to disempower Māori voices, an assault on a kaupapa Māori party for his Pākehā kaupapa. The line of rangatira he captured in his derogatory comments include esteemed leaders such as Dr Whatarangi Winiata, Tā Pita Sharples, Dame Tariana Turia, Dame June Mariu, Whaea Rangmarie Naida Glavish and many, many more who built and shaped the political platform of the Māori Party.  Their primary purpose to advance Māori aspiration and wellbeing through a kaupapa Māori approach: by Māori, for Māori, with Māori for the benefit of all New Zealanders.

I cannot fathom ever supporting a leader who openly or otherwise strives to disempower indigenous voices. Am I reconsidering voting for the National Party? Well, although I was impressed with English, and am wholly unimpressed with Little, my voting heart belongs elsewhere.

However, I was weighted toward a “walk away” position for the Māori Party regarding National, but am reconsidering that stance. In my view, whanaungatanga is the means by which not only Māori businesses but also Māori political actors can achieve outcomes through shared experiences and working together to create reciprocal relationships. Without whanaungatanga, Māori could not achieve anything in a political system geared toward the white majority.

In an MMP environment, the Beehive is ripe for the taking by whanaungatanga. Rather than coalition building along binary lines, Māori political actors – as individuals, caucuses or parties can use our tikanga to build cross party partnerships to heal fractured relationships and speak freely, frankly and independently about our desires, aspirations and concerns.

For example, given National’s recent freshwater policy announcement on swimmable rivers by 2040, where wadeable is the new swimmable, there is an opportunity for Māori to advocate for the extension and growth of Te Mana o Te Wai. It is my view, that National’s announcement minimises the Te Mana o Te Wai concept to recognise ‘fresh water as a natural resource whose health is integral to the social, cultural, economic and environmental well-being of communities’. It minimises by not centring the rightful kaitiaki in the freshwater picture, and ignoring the sustainability solutions Māori have practiced for centuries that influence a range of wellbeing indicators from health, culture, and education to business and many more. It will be through whanaungatanga that Māori can influence action in this space.

We need to clear our heads of the white fog. Māori political actors do not need to engage in the shit throwing and personal attacks. Rising above unpleasant behaviour or attitudes and extending aroha without expectation enhances all our mana. Whether you are Māori in a Pākehā party, or Māori in a Māori party, you can embrace whanaungatanga to counteract unequal distribution of power in Aotearoa New Zealand. Whanaungatanga is our political currency. Whanaungatanga opens paths to embedding tikanga and mātauranga Māori. That in itself is an expression of kaupapa Māori politics.

The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and not a reflection of the views of her employer.

Read more
Simon Wilson: PM Bill English gave two speeches on Waitangi Day. Both were remarkable. Both were almost entirely ignored