Sunday Star-Times

Winston Peters back in his familiar spotlight

Winston Peters will address NZ First’s most loyal members in Auckland today, months after leaving Parliament for the fourth time. Henry Cooke looks at whether his party can really make another comeback.

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After months in the political wilderness Winston Peters popped up in Queenstown on Friday to talk about the political topic of the year: vaccines.

In typical Peters’ fashion, he wasn’t talking to a New Zealand journalist, but to Australia’s Today morning show, braving a wintry South Island morning in nothing but the classic suit and wide tie.

‘‘We’re halfway through the vaccine year and we’ve done about a tenth of the job,’’ Peters said, a clear barb aimed at the woman who he sent to the ninth floor, and who has since washed her hands of him, enacting many policies he personally stopped.

Peters has been avoiding the media ever since crashing out of Parliament with just 2.6 per cent of the party vote at the 2020 election. Three years earlier, before Jacinda Ardern saved her party, there was a real speculatio­n that NZ First was going to overtake Labour in the polls. In 2020 Labour won 1.4 million votes to NZ First’s 75,000.

The polls had predicted that

NZ First wouldn’t make it. But a source close to Peters suggests the loss did come as a real shock to him, that his talk about the polls being wrong wasn’t just media bluster. The then 75-yearold (he’s now 76) retreated to his Whananaki home and was apparently pretty grumbly about his own farewell bash in Parliament.

He didn’t do a Peter Dunne and show up for Victoria University’s post-election conference, giving one last speech in Parliament’s halls in place of a valedictor­y. That would be an admission of defeat, of giving up on political life, and Winston Peters has never given up.

Peters takes the stage today in Auckland to address 150 or so core members who have gathered for the party’s annual general meeting. Everyone Sunday StarTimes talked to for this story was of the strong belief that Peters would not be using the speech to make some sort of final goodbye, but to start the road to the next election. In 2023 Peters will be the same age Joe Biden was when he took on the presidency, after a similarly lengthy political career.

But even Peters will not be able to pretend the loss has not weakened the party.

The Star-Times reached eight of the party’s MPs from the last term and found just two willing to comment on the record – Mark Patterson and Darroch Ball, the current acting president.

Both come from the Right of the party, and are enthusiast­ic about its future chances against a Left-wing Labour government.

‘‘There’s definitely been a lurch to the Left and that is becoming more and more apparent to people,’’ Patterson said.

Ball, who is also working for the Right-wing Sensible Sentencing Trust and is acting president of the party, said labels like Left and Right weren’t useful.

‘‘I think one of the unique things about NZ First is we have a very broad range of different views.’’

One of those with a different view has left, however: Tracey

Martin, a stalwart of the party since its inception.

She declined to comment but was forthcomin­g to media about her departure when it happened, saying the party had left her behind, with policies announced on the hoof that hadn’t been run by her, and becoming too focused

‘‘In the eyes of the public it was the Jacinda and Ashley show. In reality we were part of the Cabinet making all those decisions. In hindsight that was probably a tactical error.’’ Mark Patterson

on the leader and executive.

Martin was well-liked by her Labour colleagues and was seen as the hardest working of NZ First ministers. She worked to a compromise on abortion legislatio­n and then had the carpet pulled from under her when the Right of the caucus decided it actually wanted to demand a referendum on the subject.

It appears she didn’t let this slight go.

One person close to the party, who didn’t want to be named, pointed to Martin’s comments as representa­tive of some wider issues. Former Defence Minister and party stalwart Ron Mark is also understood to be finished with politics.

NZ First’s loss came after an often-chaotic campaign.

In the era of Covid-19 Peters never got to hold many of the big town hall events he was keen on, despite successful­ly pushing for the election to be delayed.

The issues were internal too. A planned walkabout at the O¯ tara Markets got cancelled at the last minute, with journalist­s only finding out once they got off the plane and got themselves to the markets. Ardern herself was due at the markets a bit later, and it didn’t take much of a cynic to suspect Peters might have been wary of allowing media to make the easy comparison between the huge crowds she would attract and his own following.

Many in the party point to the fact Peters was drowned out – as was almost every other politician – by the prime minister’s constant presence at the 1pm Covid-19 briefings. (Unmentione­d is the Serious Fraud Office investigat­ion into donations to the party’s foundation.)

‘‘We did feel outmanoeuv­red by Labour a bit,’’ Patterson says. ‘‘Our ministers who were integral to that response were all sidelined. We felt that pretty keenly. In the eyes of the public it was the Jacinda and Ashley show.

‘‘In reality we were part of the Cabinet making all those decisions. In hindsight that was probably a tactical error.’’

Ball and Patterson are both involved in a review of the election campaign that was presented to members yesterday.

Neither are keen to get into detail on what it found, but both agreed that the campaign ended up being seen as more negative than was helpful, with a focus on things NZ First had stopped Labour doing, rather than things NZ First had achieved itself.

‘‘There was certainly a broad theme from the membership that they felt our achievemen­ts in government – about 90 per cent of which got delivered – were not focused on.

‘‘We didn’t tell that story as well as we could. The narrative about the handbrake got captured.’’

Peters himself took up that narrative with aplomb, bragging about killing Auckland light rail and the capital gains tax.

One of NZ First’s big ‘‘achievemen­ts’’ was the $3 billion provincial growth fund, designed to both boost the regions and NZ First’s vote in the regions.

But party sources are open about the fact that it failed to fire – especially as Grant Robertson was pumping billions into the economy in a much more immediate way with the wage subsidy.

There’s also a belief among several near the party that older people – who traditiona­lly back NZ First in larger numbers than the wider population – decamped in huge numbers to Ardern’s Labour. The first proper postelecti­on study isn’t out yet, but given the results this seems very likely.

Ball and Patterson are optimistic about the party’s future however, pointing to the recent revival of the Ma¯ ori Party in 2020 and NZ First in 2014 as evidence it can happen. Ball says party membership has risen since the election, and says good candidates are joining the party.

‘‘That’s one of the aspects of NZ First that has never changed. People write us off. We always prove them wrong.’’

Alex Liu Flahive

Among the muffled murmurs echoing behind a jail cell wall, Fa’afete’ Fete’ Taito heard inmates plotting to stand over new prisoners who had just arrived at Mt Eden Prison.

Taito knew a familiar face was part of the new batch of prisoners, his old friend, fellow Polynesian Panther and adopted father, Tigilau ‘‘Tigi’’ Ness.

Ness had been sentenced to 12 months’ imprisonme­nt for protesting against the 1981 Springbok Tour.

‘‘I put my head around the corner and asked them what they were doing,’’ Taito told Stuff during its latest major podcast, Once a Panther.

They were planning to extort money out of the protesters by threatenin­g them with violence or sexual abuse. But Taito already knew that; he just wanted to make his presence felt.

‘‘I was 20-yearsold and pretty well known in that world by then,’’ he said.

His notoriety had come from a real-world education in state care.

Taito was born in New Zealand to Samoan parents, but at 12-yearsold he started running away to avoid the discipline he was receiving at home. From there, he was in and out of boys’ homes.

While Waikeria Prison was much more violent, he said Auckland’s O¯ wairaka Boys’ Home was worse because it set him and the other kids on a pathway to gangs.

‘‘I used to teach a lot of the boys in there to read, it was amazing how many couldn’t,’’ Taito said. ‘‘We would run away and stay in abandoned houses until the [police] J-Team found us. We crashed at a house in Ponsonby for a while, which was next door to the Polynesian Panthers. So I got involved with them, delivering pamphlets.’’

Two of those Panthers were Ness and his wife, Miriama Rauhihi Ness. ‘‘By the time I was 15, I had fallen in love with Tigi and Ama; they were like my parents.’’

They tried to show Taito a new style of resistance and, for a short while, he became a youth member of the Polynesian Panthers.

In much of what they did, the Panthers were ahead of their time: no possession of drugs or alcohol during movement time, no weapons, equality of the sexes. They were outspoken and visible – their berets and black uniform adopted from their counterpar­ts in the United States – and they appeared to threaten white middleclas­s New Zealand.

But in contrast to their militant structure, the Panthers’ roots were in community work. The movement started homework centres, organised a food cooperativ­e, created a legal aid booklet with future prime minister David Lange, kept an aggressive police force accountabl­e, facilitate­d prison visits and campaigned for the rights of tangata whenua.

Former party chairman Will’ Ilolahia puts it more simply: ‘‘What was it all about being a Polynesian Panther? Standing up on behalf of our people, being good to your neighbour, don’t take no s... and stop this racism.’’

But despite the Panthers’ influence,

Taito’s boys’ home ‘‘education’’ would lead him to only one place.

‘‘Back then, they had a thing called kingpins. It was like an old English housemaste­r thing,’’ Taito revealed. ‘‘They would make us fight for their entertainm­ent, Sunday boxing they used to call it.’’

That’s how Taito became wellknown; his kingpin title kept him in a secure unit rather than the boys’ dormitorie­s. ‘‘They were basically cells.’’

He didn’t know it at the time. Still, his fearsome reputation would keep him away from the housemaste­rs who preyed on boys after inviting them into their accommodat­ion for the easier chores.

‘‘I used to be jealous because I thought they would be eating nice food and drink and stuff, but little did we know that’s where all the abuse was happening.’’

There was only one pathway in front of Taito and the other boys, predominan­tly Ma¯ ori and Pasifika kids, once put in state care. ‘‘I

would see the same faces all the time at the boys’ homes, and then I would see them in prison, but we were men now, so we go to Mt Eden.’’

It was fortunate, yet tragic, that Taito would be in Mt Eden for Ness’ first day to tell the inmates planning to stand over him that ‘‘Tigi’s with me’’.

‘‘I was so happy I could be there for Tigi,’’ Taito said. ‘‘I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him while he was in there.’’

Ness would wake up in the morning to find Taito sitting at the end of his bed, warding off any would-be intruders. ‘‘If it hadn’t been for Fete, I would’ve been raped.’’

Ness’ time in prison left him disorienta­ted and lost – but he did meet ‘‘a lot of ‘‘good brothers in there’’.

‘‘A lot of the kaha (strength) from Ma¯oridom is locked up in there,’’ Ness said. ‘‘If they had the education and resources? Man, what a powerhouse this country would be.’’

Ness has gone on to be an influentia­l figure in the education of young men. It’s a road that Taito would eventually travel after getting himself out of the gang lifestyle.

‘‘I had a strong mind, and when you are a career criminal, I guess you understand the reason you’re there is for the money, but once the drug becomes more important, you’re more lost than before,’’ he said.

‘‘I had been a P addict for 10 years, and getting off that was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do,’’ he said.

But he did. His partner, who he has been with 30 years, was wary of him going back to his old ways and urged him to do something with his time.

He applied for a bridging course at the University of Auckland and now has a Bachelor of Arts with a double major in sociology and Ma¯ ori.

He is also an integral voice at the Royal Commission of Inquiry Abuse in Care.

The inquiry examines abuse in foster care, police custody, schools or special schools, disability care or facilities, youth justice placement, or at a health camp.

‘‘The commission needs that diversity of voices, if we don’t speak to gang members and the hard-to-reach people, all we have is a monocultur­e voice, and nothing will change because those voices will reflect the recommenda­tions.’’

Education and a new pathway changed his attitude about what to a lot of things.

Survivors now call the commission and ask for Taito personally because of the mana he still holds.

‘‘I used to feel a little embarrasse­d by it, but now I embrace it – I just want to help those people that came through the same pathway as me.’’

‘‘A lot of the kaha from Ma¯oridom is locked up in [prison]. If they had the education and resources? Man, what a powerhouse this country would be.’’ Tigilau ‘‘Tigi’’ Ness

The first five episodes of Once a Panther can be found on Stuff or through podcast apps, including Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher or via an RSS feed.

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 ?? CHRIS MCKEEN/ STUFF ?? When she left NZ First, Tracey Martin said the party had become too focused on its leader and executive – but that won’t stop Winston Peters being front and centre today at the NZ First AGM in Auckland.
CHRIS MCKEEN/ STUFF When she left NZ First, Tracey Martin said the party had become too focused on its leader and executive – but that won’t stop Winston Peters being front and centre today at the NZ First AGM in Auckland.
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 ?? DAVID WHITE/STUFF ?? Tigilau Ness, left, says he would wake up in Mt Eden Prison to find Fete Taito, main photo, sitting at the end of his bed, protecting him.
DAVID WHITE/STUFF Tigilau Ness, left, says he would wake up in Mt Eden Prison to find Fete Taito, main photo, sitting at the end of his bed, protecting him.

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