‘I was the token Māori woman, I was the token lesbian’
Why Louisa Wall won’t ‘know her place’
‘‘Who the f... do you think you are?’’ This question, spat out by a senior male colleague in the doorway of her new office in Parliament’s grand Old Buildings, was Louisa Wall’s introduction to Labour Party caucus politics.
It was 2011. Wall (Nga¯ ti Tu¯ wharetoa, Nga¯ ti Hineuru, Waikato and Nga¯ ti Kuri) had re-entered Parliament in April, replacing Darren Hughes who’d resigned after a scandal. (She’d previously had a brief stint in 2008, coming in on the list, just before that year’s general election).
The Legalise Love campaign, to promote legal marriage and adoption equality, was gaining momentum and Labour made a commitment to legalise same-sex marriage. Wall would pioneer that work, and ultimately her member’s bill made that a reality.
It was a conscience vote, meaning MPs could vote freely. But some in the party were worried about alienating conservative Pasifika supporters, particularly in South Auckland strongholds.
‘‘He burst into my room... he’d heard me on the radio, talking about marriage, equality, my role, and the fact that the party had endorsed it.
‘‘For me, ‘who the f... do you think you are?’ said I haven’t got any authority, don’t know my place. It’s quite layered, a senior male MP, and that is what he chose to do.
‘‘As the chair of Labour’s rainbow caucus... that was my responsibility. We’d said this was a priority for us. It was my actual job.’’
Wall, 48, a former Black Fern and Silver Fern, doesn’t lie down. She took her complaint straight to the top.
‘‘My reaction was that I formally went to the leadership. I said that was unacceptable, I don’t have to put up with us. I want it noted. Nothing happened.’’
She now believes Parliament should appoint an independent commissioner to investigate bullying and harassment complaints against MPs, going against the grain of many of her colleagues.
‘‘There needs to be some accountability. We have to have something that protects those who don’t have the power over those who do. Let’s put it to the vote, like we do legislation.’’
When she arrived in politics, Wall was one to watch. Young, Ma¯ ori, gay, and a former champion netballer and rugby player, she was a dream ticket for Labour.
But from the beginning, she was outspoken. As a candidate, she fell out of favour with the party hierarchy during the 2005 campaign, after she suggested vote splitting in the Ta¯ maki Makaurau electorate.
In 2012, her bill to amend the Marriage Act, earned her coverage and profile a backbench MP usually only dreams of. She publicly challenged Fairfax Media, the one-time owner of the Sunday Star-Times, arguing two controversial cartoons were a breach of human rights. The dispute went all the way to the High Court.
But the publicity, and her uncompromising positions, also brought resentment. Because it was a conscience vote, she got little help from the party’s whips or its press team.
‘‘I was the token Ma¯ ori woman, I was the token lesbian, but it was very much about the station and ‘know your place’.
‘‘And it’s unacceptable and obviously I’m never going to be that. They picked the wrong person if they want an acquiescent member of caucus who doesn’t have the capacity to think.
‘‘I’ve had other male colleagues swear at me. Usually because I’ve challenged something and it’s that underlying ‘you don’t know your station, you don’t know your place, you don’t have the right’.
‘‘Well, I do have the right – I’m an elected representative. I have a constituency. I have a job. I’m allowed to do that job.’’
Wall was promoted in both David Shearer and David Cunliffe’s shadow Cabinets. But Andrew Little demoted her and, when Labour took office in 2017, she was overlooked by Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern. This term she has chaired the health select committee, but why hasn’t she been promoted to Cabinet?
‘‘Those aren’t questions I can answer. All I’ve done is my job, to the best of my ability. But I’ve also done my job, my way.’’
Yes, but in the hierarchical and machinating world of party politics, is that the problem?
‘‘That’s a question you would have to ask others. I mean, one would assume. If I was playing sport, it would be a very different story. I used to thrive in pressure situations... because sport is about people having the technical skills, and then being able to execute.’’
She is ‘‘absolutely’’ disappointed that she is yet to be a minister. But she says it has allowed her the freedom to work with other inter-parliamentary groups on equality, human rights in China and West Papua, and other causes closer to home.
Wall worked with NZ Rugby to counter sexism, racism and homophobia, and campaigned for women to be represented on its board.
Since 2016, she’s been pushing Labour to make sanitary products more accessible to all women by subsidising or making them free. In June, Ardern announced 15 Waikato high schools will have access to free products, with the programme going nationwide next year.
Recently, Wall became embroiled in a selection battle for the Manurewa seat, which she has held since 2011. She won in 2017 with a majority of 8374.
She threatened legal action against Labour, which had broken the rules by allowing challenger Arena Williams to submit a nomination after the official deadline.
Supported by Cabinet Minister Nanaia Mahuta, and former National MP Dame Marilyn Waring, Wall negotiated a compromise. She withdrew in return for a winnable spot on the party’s list.
The episode left her sad, especially for her electorate staff Verina Kingsley-Jones and Bill Marshall, who decided to leave their jobs.
‘‘What people need to know is that I was nominated by my Labour electorate committee. I’m talking about life members – one had been on the LEC for 39 years – so this beat-up, that the locals didn’t want me, is not true.
‘‘It was a very traumatic process. It became pretty obvious that some factions didn’t want me to have the seat... there are people who haven’t liked my advocacy. There had been unrest about my marriage bill, initially. The Pacific sector was really outspoken.
‘‘And last year did I provoke more by being really outspoken on the End of Life Choice Bill and the abortion law reform? That was a factor.’’
Wall is very clear: the end goal was to get rid of her. She was painted as ‘‘polarising’’ and ‘‘abrasive’’. But that is something she rejects, and points to her record of cross-party collaboration. Marriage equality came about because of strong bonds she forged across the House with Green MP Kevin Hague, and National’s Nikki Kaye and Tau Henare.
More recently, Wall and other female MPs made history, working together to change Parliament’s rules to finally ban female genital mutilation in all forms.
‘‘There is the narrative about me, and the reality. I know I can never do anything by myself. That defines my work.
‘‘I’ve played in national sports teams: one’s won a World Cup, the other lost by one goal to Australia. So I know exactly what being in a team is about and I know about working with people, collaborations, partnerships, and through that collective effort being successful.
‘‘Everything that I’ve done is with others, they just haven’t always been members of my party. So maybe that’s the rub.
‘‘But you can’t achieve the change I have done within an individual party. We are talking about alliances, collaborations and partnerships with like-minded politicians that is based on particular kaupapa.
‘‘There’s a characterisation about me, I think, that’s been used to justify why I’ve been excluded.’’ But doesn’t being excluded hurt?
‘‘I’m definitely aware that people don’t like me. But I don’t care about being liked. I just want to be respected.
‘‘Life is all about priorities... a lot of the areas that I choose to involve myself in I’m a disrupter. And at the end of the day, are people going to find me hard or not like what I say? Are they going to be oppositional to what I think? Well, I’m very clear about the things I believe in, I’m principled. I’m not very political, to be honest.’’
‘‘I was the token Ma¯ori woman, I was the token lesbian, but it was very much about the station and ‘know your place’. And it’s unacceptable and obviously I’m never going to be that.‘‘ Louisa Wall
She’s happy to own the adjective ‘abrasive’. ‘‘That’s because of some people’s perceptions of how a woman should behave and our status. [If I was a man] it would have been strong, steadfast, principled, doesn’t compromise. It would have been a positive.’’ Wall credits her late father Leslie’s Irish ancestors for her fighting spirit, and her luck, which has seen a number of her member’s bills pulled from the ballot. He died 14 years ago, and she dissolves into tears talking about him and his community work.
Watching the All Blacks with him, inspired her sporting career. She was named a Silver Fern aged 17, made the Black Ferns in 1995 and was part of that team’s first world cup win three years later. Her father taught her to have pride and confidence because then she would ‘‘have the strength and power to advocate for others’’.
Off the field, Wall, who is married to lawyer Prue Kapua, pursued a career in public policy, working for AUT University, the Human Rights Commission, and Counties Manukau District Health Board.
As well as her marriage bill, she also drafted legislation to allow alcohol licence renewals to be assessed against local alcohol policies. It’s currently before Parliament.
Wall also worked for three years on legislation to modernise surrogacy laws, but the party wouldn’t allow her to sponsor it. It’s in the ballot in MP Ta¯ mati Coffey’s name. ‘‘More appropriate, I guess, because he and his husband had gone through the process.’’ She picked herself up, and moved on to the next thing. In early July, her ‘‘revenge porn’’ bill was drawn and then debated as Parliament came to a close.
It would make non-consensual posting of intimate images and recordings an offence punishable with a three-year jail term. MPs can only have one piece of proposed legislation in the biscuit tin ballot at any time. Just a couple of weeks later, her bill to create safe zones to deter protests outside abortion clinics was drawn after only two days in the ballot, and passed its first stage.
‘‘The proof’s in the pudding,’’ she says. ‘‘And if we base our role on legislative reform, I am quite happy to put my credentials on the table. Because that’s actually our primary job, only MPs can make legislation. ‘‘People say it’s luck... but it’s a moment in time when you are in position to take opportunities. ‘‘So, my try is in scoring a piece of legislation.’’