It would make history if the current government only last one term. (Image: Gabi Lardies).
It would make history if the current government only last one term. (Image: Gabi Lardies).

PoliticsJanuary 17, 2025

A complete history of New Zealand’s one-term governments

It would make history if the current government only last one term. (Image: Gabi Lardies).
It would make history if the current government only last one term. (Image: Gabi Lardies).

Summer reissue: The current coalition not lasting beyond this parliamentary term is an idea that’s been seized on by its opponents. History suggests it’s unlikely – but not impossible.

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First published June 20, 2024.

‘We have a very good chance of making this a one-term government,” said Labour leader Chris Hipkins at his party’s recent regional conference. Though he was no doubt bolstered by a room of supporters on Sunday, as well as recent polls that showed the government’s popularity slipping, it wasn’t the first time Hipkins had used the phrase, and he’s far from alone – it’s been repeated by outspoken opponents of the coalition, including the Green Party, for months. Perhaps now enough time has passed since Labour’s dismal election performance for it to gain traction.

But while “one-term government” is becoming a galvanising phrase among opponents of the current coalition – thrown around not only in political speeches and debates but also at rallies and on social media – it is not a common occurrence in Aotearoa. Keeping in mind that the spirit of the phrase excludes coalition changes, such as the Labour-led government dropping NZ First in 2020, here is the complete history of New Zealand’s one-term governments:

  1. The second Labour government led by Walter Nash, 1957-60 
  2. The third Labour government led by Norman Kirk and Wallace (Bill) Rowling, 1972-75

To point out the obvious, there have been just two, and both were Labour. If the current government were to last just one term, it would be the first time in history that a National-led government would so quickly fall from power. Single terms are also rare in Australia – there hasn’t been one there since 1931. In Europe they’re much more common, with most countries seeing a change of government at least every two years.

So what happened for those two 20th-century New Zealand governments to lose popularity just three years after coming into power? Could it happen again in 2026?

A rare sight! Members of the first one-term government at Government House, 1957. (Photo: National Library of New Zealand).

Jim McAloon, a professor of history at Te Herenga Waka, says it’s likely a coincidence that our only two single-term governments were Labour ones. The commonality that isn’t so coincidental is that “what undid them was economic policy or economic events”, he says. That doesn’t necessarily mean the two governments badly managed economic affairs, “but that they were confronted with circumstances that made life difficult for them”. 

The second Labour government came into office in 1957 with just a two-seat majority, so was “​​always going to have a problem holding on”, says McAloon. It also faced a balance of payments crisis, with export earnings down and imports high, which can lead to rapid decline of a currency’s value. In order to get through that without high unemployment or economic damage, the Nash government’s 1958 budget was “a bit tough”, says McAloon. Raising taxes on beer, cigarettes and petrol, it was called the “black budget” by National leader Keith Holyoake (though he probably didn’t coin the phrase), and the label caught on. Holyoake was “a very, very effective and skilled politician”, says McAloon, and was able to run the all-too-familiar National Party line that Labour were bad economic managers and all too happy to raise taxes. “That doesn’t change, does it?” notes McAloon. “Holyoake just said black budget, black budget, black budget every week for three years.”

When the next election rolled around in 1960, Labour was turfed out. It’s wasn’t only that National won over Labour voters, McAloon says, but also that many Labour voters stayed home – something that played a part in Labour’s defeat in the 2023 election too.

The next one-term government came after 12 years of National in charge. The Norman Kirk Labour government was voted in with a huge 23-seat majority amid a national mood that it was time for change. Television had become an important part of politics, and Kirk was good at it. McAloon describes him as “a big, big man and compelling public speaker” who was so popular that a song about him, ‘Big Norm’ by the band Ebony, was fourth on the national charts in January 1974. Unfortunately for Labour, Big Norm died of heart failure in 1975. “That did not help,” says McAloon. His successor, Wallace (Bill) Rowling, was not so good at the theatre of politics, and struggled to assert authority.

Then, the booming economy came to an end. Inflation soared. It was not through Labour’s economic mismanagement, but because the price of oil shot up and pushed the western economic system into a recession, and New Zealand went down with it. Suddenly we were spending much more on imports, and the market for our exports contracted. The UK joined the European Economic Community and we could no longer count on them to lap up our sheep and lamb. A big personality entered the contest for prime minister – Robert Muldoon became leader of the National Party in 1974. He “campaigned on the basis that everything was their fault, you know, which was quite unfair – but politics isn’t fair”, says McAloon, who adds that Muldoon was “pretty good at scapegoating and dog-whistle racism and accusing Labour of being a bunch of out-of-touch, elitist intellectuals”. In the 1975 election, Labour’s majority was reversed.

But economic downturns can’t be wholly blamed for governments lasting only a single term, as they’re not the only ones to have faced them. After the wool market collapsed in 1966, the National Party won a third term. The Muldoon National government also held on through the oil shock of 1979. The National government that delivered the “mother of all budgets” in 1991 did scrape into a second term in 1993, although there was a major swing away from its previous landslide win in 1990. The global financial crisis hit at the end of the three-term Helen Clark Labour-led government, with the 2008 election seeing the beginning of the John Key-led National/Act/United Future/Māori Party three-term government. Three is the most common number of terms for New Zealand governments to last, and there have only been a couple of four-term ones. McAloon says perhaps that’s because “if you’re in power for a long time, inevitably people get bored, disillusioned, annoyed, and just think, ‘Oh, well, time for a change.’”

Something else to consider is that both the second and third Labour governments were elected under a first past the post system – “winner takes all, if you like,” says McAloon. There were no king-makers or parties to form stronger coalitions with. It didn’t take a huge swing of voters to knock seats off a government. Under MMP the whole mechanism is different, with coalitions and blocs that need to be considered. “The likely coalition partners also have to maintain their share of the vote and a reasonable degree of discipline themselves,” says McAloon. To some extent the major parties need their votes too.

The handshake after the coalition agreements were signed, November 24, 2023. (Photo: Marty MELVILLE / AFP).

As for today, McAloon says the current government is gambling that social conservatism will win them more votes than economic austerity will lose them. He’s noticed this government blaming the previous for a bad economy, just like Muldoon did in 1975. “It’s an easy dodge to simply blame the last lot for everything.” Of course, National is not the only party that does that.

There’s some truth, McAloon thinks, in the cliche that oppositions don’t win elections, governments lose them. “I don’t think that’s going to work for Chris Hipkins, though,” he says. “I think he needs to pitch an alternative view, especially if he’s hoping to make Luxon’s a one-term government.” He says getting voters to switch back to Labour, or getting Labour voters to turn up, will take persuasion – not just waiting for the coalition to lose popularity.

Hipkins’ pitch on Sunday to push out the government after one term included being an effective opposition, having new ideas and policies to capture imaginations, and rebuilding and broadening the Labour movement. Greens co-leader Chlöe Swarbrick, who called for a one-term coalition government during her “state of the planet” speech in May, went beyond parliament to organising people to resist and put pressure on the coalition. Either way, if the opposition want to make history by adding a National-led government to our very short list of one-termers, they’ve got about two years and five months of hard work in front of them.

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Keep going!
The cause for someone like Golriz Ghahraman is often derived from the same stress felt by people like you and me. (Photo: Lynn Grieveson/Getty Images, Design: The Spinoff).
The cause for someone like Golriz Ghahraman is often derived from the same stress felt by people like you and me. (Photo: Lynn Grieveson/Getty Images, Design: The Spinoff).

OPINIONSocietyJanuary 16, 2025

Golriz, I think I get it — I shoplifted too

The cause for someone like Golriz Ghahraman is often derived from the same stress felt by people like you and me. (Photo: Lynn Grieveson/Getty Images, Design: The Spinoff).
The cause for someone like Golriz Ghahraman is often derived from the same stress felt by people like you and me. (Photo: Lynn Grieveson/Getty Images, Design: The Spinoff).

What compels someone of significant status in society to break the law, repeatedly, might be the same reason I did as a poor teenager.

Update: Further details have been reported that reveal the supermarket in question did not pass a complaint on to police. This article remains, lightly edited, as a commentary on shoplifting and mental health.

Former Green MP Golriz Ghahraman, who left parliament a year ago today following revelations of shoplifting, is now at the centre of another shoplifting complaint. As reported by Stuff, Ghahraman is under investigation by police for a shoplifting incident at an Auckland Pak’nSave in late 2024, her fifth allegation of stealing. She was convicted on four previous charges in June.

When someone repeatedly does something that they’re not supposed to do – because it is against the law, because they are a former law-maker and lawyer, and because they know better – the typical response is exasperation, akin to wishing your child would just smarten up and learn that bad actions result in bad consequences. Maybe the first response that pops into our heads isn’t “you know what, I think I get why you did that”, because Ghahraman is not supposed to be doing that. But maybe it takes a shoplifter to know a shoplifter.

As a teenager, I stole for many of the same reasons other kids with yet-to-fully-develop brains take five-finger discounts: poor impulse control, the attached thrill and the fact that most of my friends were doing it. But a larger part of this shoplifting was due to having what would be considered a low quality of life: being in a three-person family living in a cramped two-bedroom state home, unpaid bills coupled with empty cupboards, and a general lack of financial stability from living with a solo mother on the dole. Our possessions were secondhand, gifts or nice new things were just about non-existent and for one Christmas, all we got was a single chocolate bar.

Living with limited resources breeds a want to, quite simply, just be like everyone else: a possessor of nice things, and seemingly put-together and stable. In a fucked up way, shoplifting can give you a sense of control, comfort and power purely by finally being in possession of something that represents security, even if it’s a bit of meat from Woolworths – but it’s fucked up, because that comes at the expense of taking something from someone else. In the end though, that still feels better than believing you’re the one whom people are taking from.

Ghahraman, especially at the time of her early crimes, is someone who easily appears to already have it all. As an MP, she was on an annual salary of at least $170,000, and had previously studied at the University of Oxford and worked as a lawyer for the United Nations before life in parliament. On the surface, stealing expensive clothes from expensive retailers when you already have means and status, feels particularly egregious and greedy.

a woman wearing a striped top with long hair medium brown skin and holding a microphone
Golriz Ghahraman, an MP who initially moved to New Zealand as a refugee. Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images

It’s also true that a life of perceived luxury hasn’t always been Ghahraman’s reality. She was famously the first refugee elected to New Zealand’s parliament, having fled with her family from her Iranian hometown, Mashhad, following the Iran-Iraq war to seek political asylum in New Zealand. The war resulted in a million casualties in Iran, and contributed to the displacement of over two million Iranians. When Ghahraman and her family arrived in New Zealand as a nine-year-old, they arrived with only a few small bags; she believed they were just taking a holiday.

“The Islamic regime was in one of its most violent periods in the 1980s when I was born … You see the absolute sea of amputees now in the footage from Palestine, and we were seeing that coming back from the front lines,” Ghahraman told John Campbell in her first sit down interview in 2024. “I have memories of all of that, with big chunks missing as the report [by a clinical psychologist] also acknowledges.” She revealed she had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.

As an MP, Ghahraman also received “pretty much continuous” death threats, as well as threats of a physical and sexual nature. In 2019, the intensity of these threats was so great that she required a security escort – online commentary had called to “[hang] her like a lynch mob”. She told Campbell the threats sent her into a fight or flight mode “which you’re meant to be in for a couple of minutes at a time, but I just stayed for six years of it. And you do numb yourself, you do kind of push it down… but it’s gotta come out somewhere.”

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Shoplifting is one of the most common crimes in the world, and for many people, a coping mechanism. Ghahraman and I have never got together, braided each other’s hair, and swapped shoplifted items and shoplifting stories. In her own words, shoplifting became an option for Ghahraman because she felt “in crisis”. Coming back to a crowded state house, often with little food and/or no power, made me feel in crisis, too.

Shoplifting is one of the most common crimes in the world.

Being an MP and being someone living in poverty are two realities that feel worlds away, and conflating my lived experience with Ghahraman’s undermines how uniquely complex both of our situations are. Maybe we could both agree though, that growing from a childhood compromised by cruelty into a successful adult isn’t enough to totally diminish past trauma or our responses to it.

If you grew up feeling like you have no control, and when you’re finally in a position of power, anonymous people are telling you they will take your life, everything must feel somewhat futile. Nicking $9,978 worth of fancy clothing, quite honestly, does seem like the dumbest thing in the world – but at least you look like everyone else you’re interacting with, and at least for a few seconds, there’s a thrill, a sense of power and a way to numb the pain. She says she felt “shame” following her actions, and presumably that shame intensified with a very public conviction. Sometimes those cycles of shame make us revert to the acts that caused us the feeling in the first place.

When we penalise people who commit crimes under distress, that creates another cycle, too. In Aotearoa, 56.5% of people with previous conviction are re-convicted within two years of leaving prison. Recidivism can happen for many reasons, with the most obvious issue being that whatever has caused the person to commit the crime in the first place hasn’t been addressed.

There’s also an inescapable irony in choosing to view Ghahraman’s actions with empathy. The last time I shoplifted, after I was caught by the retailer’s security team, I figured they would call in the police, or worse, my mother. Under fluorescent lights, a very stern guard told me I was too young to mess up my life so they’d spare me a police call, and was sent off with a slap on the wrist. I don’t think many people would have spared a thinkpiece for me.

Editor’s note: due to the level of abuse the writer has received on various platforms, comments have been turned off.