For the decade Sue Bradford spent in parliament as a Green MP, party co-leader Jeanette Fitzsimons led by example, bringing a quiet but steely determination to everything she did.

The news of the sudden death of Jeanette Fitzsimons has been a shock. My heart goes out to her dear partner of many decades, Harry Parkes, to all Jeanette’s family and friends, and to everyone who knew her in the Green Party and green movements she made her own.

As happens all too often, it is likely that the true scope of Jeanette’s contribution to the political life of this country will only become apparent now she has left us. From her time in the Values Party of the 1970s onwards, Jeanette dedicated her life to advocacy for the physical world upon which we humans depend for our survival. She was in politics to give Papatūānuku a voice.

She also understood, like the man who became her Green Party co-leader, Rod Donald, that the planet can’t be saved unless people are nurtured and protected too, in a far fairer economic and social system than the one we live in at present.

The dual kaupapa of “caring for earth, caring for people” was why I joined the Greens in 1998, going on to become one of that first group of seven MPs who entered parliament under the name of the Green Party in 1999. It’s moving now to look back at the photos from that time, to see how happy we were, so full of hope that together we might help to change the world. Some of us felt very much outsiders in that place of power, but Jeanette and Rod had already served a term in parliament and were highly effective guides in those early years.

The fact that Jeanette won the Coromandel electorate outright in 1999 was a massive victory in itself, testament to the years of grassroots activism that had already happened in the Hauraki district, and to the respect in which she was held as a representative and leader.

Many people don’t realise that Jeanette had been a university lecturer before she went to parliament. She brought with her a wealth of detailed policy knowledge and the ability to translate that detail into effective advocacy, skills with which not every MP is blessed.

She and Rod melded the new Green caucus into the most effective group that could be achieved given our highly diverse composition. We were a close unit, which is why when Rod died – also very suddenly – in late 2005, we were shaken to the core. I don’t think the Green Party has ever been the same since, and I feel fairly certain that Jeanette would agree with me on that.

She and I went on to pick up the two government spokespeople roles the Greens had negotiated for following the 2005 election – Jeanette as spokesperson on energy efficiency, and me with Buy Kiwi Made, a role that would have been Rod’s if things had turned out differently. These were the only two slim strands of governmental responsibility the Green Party achieved during the time Jeanette was there, and I know she relished the opportunities offered by the quasi-ministerial position.

During her time as co-leader of the Greens, Jeanette brought a quiet but steely determination to everything she did. Her public persona was often of a kindly maternal intelligence, but underneath lay an iron commitment to fighting her corner and achieving what she thought best for the caucus and the party.

In the wider operations of parliament, she was as hard a worker as you’d find anywhere, absolutely committed to select committee tasks and to her contributions in the house. During question time, always that unruly space where we Greens felt embarrassed by the childishness of so much that went on, Jeanette led our crew by example. We really did do our best to demonstrate that one could go to parliament and attack policy and politics, but not the person, in a mature, respectful way.

There was another side to Jeanette too, one that didn’t become apparent to many until some time after she left parliament. Early on, at one of our caucus retreats, Jeanette came up to me and almost whispered with that sweet smile of hers, “You know Sue, I’ve always wanted to be a militant like you. I’ve always dreamed of being in a monkeywrench gang.” (“Monkeywrench” is a word used for environmentalists who use non-violent direct action and sometimes sabotage as part of their activism).

I was delighted to be the recipient of such a confidence, and replied that I hoped one day she’d be able to engage in such activity. And so it came to be. In recent years Jeanette has been prominent on the frontlines of a number of environmental protests, chaining herself to doors, facing down police, and trying – but failing – to get herself arrested. Sometimes you’re just too well known, and too respected.

Jeanette had the heart of a militant ecologist, the mind of an academic, the determination of a politician and the compassion of a partner, mother, mentor and friend. Respect, and may earth’s green flag fly with you always.

*With thanks to Marc Ribot and his song ‘The Militant Ecologist‘, whose lyrics are referenced above

I have reason to believe that New Zealand’s reputation for being corruption-free and its sense of well-being don’t fully align with reality, writes Timothy K Kuhner.

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Alongside Scandinavian countries, New Zealand is consistently cited as one of the least corrupt nations in the world. In Transparency International’s 2019 Corruption Perceptions Index, for example, we are tied with Finland for first place. This sterling reputation increases our ability to exercise a leadership role in regional and international bodies, and to attract foreign investment. I’m also convinced that it provides a sense of political wellbeing. I refer to a certain confidence within the public that this small democracy in a distant corner of the South Pacific has at least as much integrity as any other.

But I have reason to believe that this reputation and sense of wellbeing don’t fully align with reality. Nothing better to call our attention to this than the Serious Fraud Office’s ongoing prosecution of large donors to the National Party and its ongoing investigation of the fundraising practices of the New Zealand First Foundation. The spotlight may soon reveal a few bad apples, but before that specific focus takes over the news cycle, I suggest we focus on the rotten barrel. These cases are merely symptomatic of New Zealand’s extreme vulnerability to the undue influence of concentrated wealth over political parties, laws, and policies.

TI’s 2019 report, published this past January, provides a glimpse of what I’m talking about. Despite coming in first in the ranking, New Zealand largely fails to comply with the report’s urgent recommendations for political integrity. TI’s Chairperson, Delia Ferreira Rubio, states that “governments must urgently address the corrupting role of big money in political party financing and the undue influence it exerts on our political systems.” (See the TI CPI 2019 website here.) Homing in on the “need for greater political integrity,” TI’s Executive Summary reminds the nations of the world that “Public policies and resources should not be determined by economic power or political influence.” To this effect, the report recommends controlling political financing, managing conflicts of interest, and regulating lobbying activities.

Currently, New Zealand imposes no limit on individual or corporate donations to political campaigns or political parties. Even corporations with government contracts are free to donate. Moreover, disclosure rules are weak. Party secretaries are only required to disclose the details of domestic donations over $15,000 (although thankfully this rule applies to multiple small donations from the same source). Thanks to that high bar, the great majority of funds donated to National and Labour in any given year aren’t disclosed to the public (83% of the money donated to National hasn’t been disclosed – $8.7m over six years; and 80% of that donated to Labour hasn’t been disclosed –  $2.8m). Even worse is NZ First, which allows the greatest percentage of its donations to remain secret.

Parliament wisely adopted the Electoral Amendment Act 2019, imposing a new $50 limit on foreign donations, but Golriz Ghahraman’s Electoral (Strengthening Democracy) Amendment Bill hasn’t been taken up. That bill would limit donations (and aggregate donations) to $35,000 and lower the threshold for disclosure. Globally speaking, these provisions are permissive and intended, clearly enough, as a compromise measure to satisfy the major parties’ business models.

In terms of conflicts of interest, MPs must make an annual return on pecuniary and other personal interests pursuant to the Standing Orders of the House of Representatives. While this brings a degree of transparency, conflicts of interest are generally considered an internal matter for party discipline. While a few cases have tackled these issues over the years (such as Field v R and Wilkinson v Osborne), the Standing Orders Committee has issued this worrisome summary:

“Members who have a financial interest in business before the House are not thereby disqualified from participating in a debate on the matter, serving on a committee inquiring into it, or voting on it. It is for members to judge whether they should participate in any of these ways when they possess a financial interest in the outcome of parliamentary proceedings.”

Finally, attention should turn to Holly Walker’s Lobbying Disclosure Bill, which was shot down by the Government Administration Select Committee and the attorney general. The grounds for those rejections could be dealt with through relatively painless revisions, bringing New Zealand in line with sensible lobbying regulations on the books in Canada. But for now, lobbyists face no code of conduct, are not required to register with the government, and their meetings with MPs face no public scrutiny. But they and their clients may donate unlimited sums to political parties and campaigns. And the revolving door between parliament and the private sector remains wide-open with no cool down period.

While the SFO may soon shed light on violations of this already permissive regime of political finance, I’m concerned more with its lawful systemic effects. Take for example, the rising economic inequality reported by Oxfam New Zealand:

• The wealthiest 20% of households in New Zealand hold 70% of the wealth
• The top 10% hold 50% of the wealth
• Two New Zealanders are worth the same as the poorest 30% of the adult Kiwi population
• The bottom 40% of households account for just 3% of total wealth
• In fact, the bottom 90% of the population own less than half of the total of New Zealand’s wealth
• Our wealth concentration is worse than Australia and worse than the OECD average
• Executive director of Oxfam NZ Rachael Le Mesurier notes what a shock is was to discover such inequity. “The gap between the extremely wealthy and the rest of us is greater than we thought, both in New Zealand and around the world. It is trapping huge numbers of people in poverty and fracturing our societies, as seen in New Zealand in the changing profile of home ownership … New Zealanders love fairness, not inequality.”

But when it comes to combatting the undue influence of concentrated wealth over law and policy, New Zealand’s electoral and parliamentary framework doesn’t reflect a love of fairness. It reflects, rather, a love of inequality. And the laws and policies produced within this framework are likely to prioritise the private interest over the public good.

I fear that good governance, citizen confidence, and political integrity won’t survive for long in this rotten barrel.