First the mayor strategically delayed a scissor snip so that he could lift the ribbon aloft. Then he pocketed it and took it back to his office.
On the surface, the official opening ceremony for the City Rail Link was a festival of grinning and backslapping. Everyone who’d ever been peripherally connected to the project gathered at Te Waihorotiu station to celebrate its long long long long-awaited arrival. They clapped and cheered. One sang. Some were even allowed to sit in the front seat and pretend to drive a train.
But underneath the jubilation, a shadow war was playing out. The room was awash with dignitaries and reporters, and whenever you get that many politicians in front of that many cameras to talk about something other than a natural disaster or their own off-putting scandals, all of them will inevitably fight like rats in a bucket for every ounce of credit on offer.
Friday’s event was no exception. Just look at the ribbon cutting ceremony. Prime minister Christopher Luxon stands in the centre of the frame. To his right stand finance minister Nicola Willis and Auckland minister Simeon Brown, shunting the man who is most responsible for the CRL’s existence, former Auckland mayor Len Brown, to the sidelines. In the second row transport minister Chris Bishop fills out the National contingent.
With all that political firepower in one place, the government should have dominated the news bulletins. But what is that blinding light scarring my corneas? That’s right, it’s Auckland’s deputy mayor Desley Simpson, resplendent in neon yellow, brandishing an AT Hop card in her right hand and grinning for the cameras.
It’s hard to compete for attention with a person who’s wearing the surface of the sun. But National would soon realise that Simpson’s shock and awe tactics were the least of their worries. They were also dealing with sneaky manoeuvring from Auckland mayor Wayne Brown.
The footage from the ribbon cutting is revealing. As the top representatives from the project’s joint funders, government and council, it falls to the prime minister and the mayor to cut the ribbon at the same time. Brown grabs the bull by the horns, initiating a countdown from five. But when he gets to zero, he pauses slightly before his snip. That tiny extra moment allows him to snag the ribbon for himself and hold it aloft like a sports trophy or a particularly impressive fish.
It’s a shrewd move and one The Spinoff can now reveal the mayor carried out deliberately. “Yes,” he says, when asked if the delayed snip was a tactical ploy. Not only that, Brown says he has nicked off with the ribbon itself. “I think it’s in my office somewhere,” the mayor says.
The government doesn’t seem to want to admit it has been snookered. “I want half of it,” says Chris Bishop when informed of Brown’s actions. “He can send it freepost to parliament.” But what if the mayor refuses to mail the ribbon? “I am pondering my options,” the transport minister says.
He can ponder all he likes. Anyone who’s been in Brown’s office would know there’s little anyone can do to prise a keepsake from his hands. The place is a repository for historic ephemera at least on par with Te Papa and perhaps even Bev’s Doll and Toy Museum in Reefton. It’s awash with knick knacks and assorted memorabilia. Now one more artefact has been added to the collection. The ribbon from the CRL opening ceremony was pilfered before our very eyes and it’s unlikely to be moving soon no matter how plaintively Bishop appeals. Perhaps whoever enters the office next will be more amenable to sharing the mayoral spoils.
