Family defiant as Tamaki

Supporters on hand as police arrest the ‘Apostle’ for alleged breach of his bail

Dawn came to Brian and Hannah Tamaki’s rural Auckland home yesterday — and so did the police. The Destiny Church founders had been waiting. Over the weekend, the couple learned that police were intending to again arrest Brian Tamaki, and this time it was unlikely he would be returning home.

His was an unusually solemn face. There was a warm welcome but no interview. For a change, Tamaki had little to say.

Lawyer’s orders, he said, as if legal advice had not already counselled against any action perceived as pushing the boundaries of bail conditions set after earlier arrests.

As the leader of the newly-formed Freedom and Rights Coalition, Tamaki had spoken against Government-imposed public health measures, including vaccine mandates. In doing so, it is alleged, he breached public health orders and was charged.

Since then, he has continued to speak against public health measures. And, as a consequence, he was charged with breaching bail. Then there was the Boxing Day sermon in which he railed against the vaccination of children, pledging to “tow your [vaccination] wagon away and I’ll get the boys to blow it up and all your syringes”.

And attending the rally — styled as a picnic — in Christchurch.

There was anxiety at the Tamaki home in Papakura yesterday morning. About 50 people were present to farewell the spiritual leader they call the Apostle.

There were also those who call him Dad, such as daughter Jamie Warren, 40, who was there with her brother and sister as children at the beginning of the church, wrapped in sleeping bags for late services at which Hannah Tamaki sang while her husband sermonised.

“From a family perspective, our dad has always been a voice, a leader’s voice, and a voice for many who can’t speak for themselves,” Warren says.

“He’s fulfilling what his purpose here is. God has consumed him. This is what they have been called to do.”

Warren is one of three children — two in New Zealand and one in Australia — and spoke as her parents shared time on a deck yet to be bathed in the morning sun.

Hannah Tamaki’s smile seemed stretched thin. Brian Tamaki’s expression was a barren landscape, his eyes fixed on a future about to drive through the front gates.

He was aware, as were the others, that it could be some time before they would see each other again.

Warren said there was a different path for her father from the beginning — his great loves of the bush, fishing, hunting, working the land. “Those are his passions. If he had a choice, that’s where he would be.”

But, she said, there was no choice. And that’s Brian Tamaki — the man without choice fighting for a choice about responding to a global pandemic.

Warren talked of her father being “muzzled” by those laws. There’s a lot of talk about freedom of speech among Tamaki’s supporters, as there is in the wider ecosystem of those resistant — or opposed — to the Government’s public health response.

“My dad’s going to prison for what? Using his voice?”

It wasn’t this way at the outset of the pandemic, she said.

Then, there was anxiety and fear as it spread across the globe, and as the numbers of those who died with, or of, the virus grew.

The first lockdown even brought a feeling of respite from the “hustle grind” of Auckland life, she said. Since then the grind had been turned on the population.

Warren says the need to stop physical church services and shift online saw attendance numbers grow significantly. “When you have doom and gloom in your house every day at one o’clock, you’re looking for something else.”

It invigorated the personal connection forged with the church community. Destiny Church is a tight congregation and as the stress of the pandemic increased, it brought those running the church close to the disruption that crept into parishioners’ lives. With its strong social services wing, the church worked to deal with what Warren says were increasing

From a family perspective, our dad has always been a voice, a leader’s voice, and a voice for many who can’t speak for themselves

Jamie Warren

cases of domestic violence, loss of jobs, mental health impacts and the signs of pressure on young people.

Destiny Church has always seen its ministry as extending beyond the church doors. This is what has pushed Brian Tamaki to campaign on issues such as abortion, euthanasia and same-sex marriage. With Covid19, proximity to the roll call of social issues became entwined with Brian Tamaki’s interpretation of what ministry required, and what God wanted of him.

And, she says, it’s not about being “anti-vax”. “We have so many in our congregation that are vaccinated, and those that aren’t. But it should be a choice. I think everybody, just like everything, has the freedom to choose.”

Warren says she’s aware the love and regard with which her father is held in the congregation is not shared across our nation.

Years of media coverage of their apparently affluent lifestyle — and the other issues on which he has campaigned — meant “there’s a real hate that’s been built up”.

“With Covid, the hate almost doubled because here was this man who dared to say things that went against the Government’s plan.” And, allegedly, against public health orders.

“As he spoke more, it became clear he had insight into things that were going to happen in the future,” Warren said. “Dad’s a reader. He studies things. He’s very knowledgeable.”

That foresight — finding patterns in the pandemic — revealed what Warren described as the “great opportunity” Covid-19 presented to those in power to “manoeuvre” and impose restrictions on freedoms. As a dogma, it aligns with conspiracy theories that posit Covid-19 as a means to the expanding power of government.

In Warren’s view, and those gathered yesterday morning, Brian Tamaki’s role in leading opposition to the public health measures drew attention to “illegal” laws and government overreach.

“He could possibly be New Zealand’s first political prisoner,” Warren said, without reference to Te Rauparaha, Te Kooti, Te Whiti, Tohu Kākahi and others in the 1800s. It’s Martin Luther King Day in the United States, she adds.

Then there was a flurry of activity. The police had arrived at the bottom of the road.

One supporter came out the front door. “Officer, do you require him to wear a mask,” he asked. The response: “Preferably, yes.” And out came Brian Tamaki, mask in place.

“We’ll do the formalities in the car if that’s all right,” said the officer, opening the door then closing it once the prisoner was inside. Hannah Tamaki raced to the back of the police car. “I forgot to kiss him goodbye,” she says, opening the door and planting one.

And then he was gone, on his way to prison and a court hearing.

Hannah Tamaki took a breath and turned to those present. “It’s like Daniel and the lion’s den. We know God will be with us.”