The deputy prime minister has been quick to criticise what fellow MPs are wearing or how they speak, but what about the decorum of his own party?
Parliament – it’s full of suits, ties, and clerks with purple hair. In the debating chamber, members often interrupt and rarely treat each other with civility. Name-calling and insults are frequently thrown around. In fact, you’d struggle to find a moment when a politician isn’t acting raucously or out of order.
Clearly, then, it’s a place founded entirely upon decorum and class.
But one of the country’s longest-serving and oldest active politicians, Winston Peters, believes the decorum and class of parliament is in a state of decay. At 79, you might be forgiven for thinking Peters is long in the tooth. But these aren’t just some throwaway comments from a scorned old man – they come on the back of simmering tensions between New Zealand First and Te Pāti Māori, with Peters growing ever more critical of a party that challenges the long-held traditions of parliament.
The issue came to a head with a speech delivered by Tākuta Ferris from Te Pāti Māori during a general debate last week. Ferris read the speech entirely from a tablet, which was admittedly quite distracting, but not the first time a politician has been seen reading a speech rather than delivering it from memory. During Ferris’s speech, both Peters and fellow NZ First MP Shane Jones interjected with points of order complaining about Ferris reading from the tablet, claiming it went against “tradition”. The speaker of the house Gerry Brownlee seemingly agreed, telling Ferris that reading speeches was “not part of the tikanga of the house”. Ferris continued to read from the tablet anyway.
Speaking to Newstalk ZB about the issue afterwards, Peters reminisced on what can only be described as “the good old days” of debating maestros such as David Lange, Robert Muldoon and Brian Talboys.
“About 75% [of current MPs] are new. They don’t even know what the former environment was. They’ve got no understanding of how good Lange was or Muldoon was, in a different way,” Peters said.
Ah yes, the ever classy Robert Muldoon. So full of decorum and self-respect was Muldoon that he once famously called a snap election while pissed as a fiddler.
But it didn’t start with Muldoon. Nothing illustrates the institutional class of parliament and our country’s MPs better than the first piece of legislation ever passed in New Zealand, which enabled the consumption of liquor in Auckland’s parliamentary buildings. Yep, the very first thing the foundation members of parliament did was make it legal for them to get pissed at their own bar – such was their class.
Reflecting on the not-so-rosy past of New Zealand’s parliament quickly unravels the myth of an institution full of historical decorum and class. Stories of alcohol-related incidents, including MPs being locked in rooms to stop them from voting while drunk, or booze being delivered via chimneys, are just some examples of parliament’s tumultuous beginnings. Another famous example is from 1876, when William Rees gave an alcohol-fuelled speech that went on for more than 24 hours.
In 1883, it was reported that parliamentary sessions were full of “perpetual interruptions caused by indecorous ‘rows’ and repulsive buffooneries”. In 1892, parliament decided it was fine that the acting premier threatened an ex-minister with personal violence, in an act described by media as “a painful scene” . In 1910, it was reported members of the public were sitting on the parliamentary floor during the passing of a bill, while members of the house were lying down fast asleep at their benches.
Parliament was criticised in 1923 as “being weak in debating powers”, with interjections from the benches “seeking to hide this defect”. In 1932, a reporter wrote that some members of parliament “do not scruple to comport themselves as rabble and to use language which could put a savage to the blush” and lacked “qualifications for what should be a high and honourable office”.
It didn’t get much better as the 20th century progressed. Party-confrontation politics were criticised as distracting from the everyday business of politicians in 1979, a year after Peters first entered parliament. It was noted during the debates that there was a threat of the media recording the noise and lack of decorum for as long as it continued.
In 1985, National Party MP Norman Jones commented on the planned homosexual law reforms, saying: “You’re looking into Hades, you’re looking at the homosexuals, don’t look too hard you might catch Aids” and telling gays to “go back into the sewers where you come from…let all the normal people stand up…we do not want homosexuality legalised. We don’t want our children contaminated”.
Nowadays, we have Winston Peters complaining about politicians wearing T-shirts, sneakers and cowboy hats in parliament, claiming it not only shows “contempt for the house but contempt for the country”. He also doesn’t like the fact they read from laptops. Party-confrontation politics once again seem to be at an all-time high. It appears that some things never change.
If they really want to lift standards, perhaps Peters and NZ First should start with the party in the mirror. Admittedly, the NZ First leaders do have a masterful grip on the English language and are almost never caught without a tie on (Peters’ matching ties and pocket squares are quite a display), but they are just as guilty as any other party of lacking decorum when it comes to debate etiquette. Jones is particularly loud and insulting during speeches, especially those delivered by members of Te Pāti Māori. Take, for example, Peters accusing Ferris of “posing to be Māori”, or this fiery exchange where Jones insinuated members of Te Pāti Māori were “parrots” and accused them of having “a Māori day off”, and Peters said they had been “on the taxpayers’ teat all their life”.
They’re also not above petty and offensive insults: who could forget this moment in July, or the repeated references to Gerry Brownlee’s body shape (Peters once said “throw fatty out”, while Jones likened the National MP to a beached walrus).
Peters might have a point but let’s not kid ourselves – parliament has always been a bit of a circus, full of chaos, bad behaviour and questionable decisions. Pretending it’s all velvet curtains and fine china just to take cheap shots at one group or another feels a bit disingenuous. If we’re more interested in someone’s outfit or how they give a speech than what they’re actually saying, maybe the problem runs deeper. That kind of shallow critique probably does more to contribute to the decay than any questionable fashion choice ever could.