Pulling the Maori Party threads together

Tariana Turia

Tariana Turia's red lipstick contrasts sharply with her elegant black dress and jauntily gelled-back hair.

If it were a little less silvery-steel she would, on the day we speak, perfectly personify the Maori Party's colours speaking out from the T-shirts hanging on the office wall behind her.

White, black and red - adopted from the famous proverb of the first Maori King, Potatau Te Wherowhero: "Kotahi te kohao o te ngira e kuhuna ai te miro ma, te miro pango me te miro whero." It translates as: "There is but one eye of the needle through which the white, black and red threads must pass," a metaphor for racial harmony, the party's leaders say.

The party's policies (tikanga) are based on a set of nine kaupapa (values) representing what it says is a traditional Maori world view.

The kaupapa of whanaungatanga for example, will result in tikanga which promote "activities that enhance and strengthen whanau participation in community activities".

The framework is a branding difference for the party, distinguishing it not just from other parties - but other unsuccessful "Maori parties".

Born through huge antipathy to the Government's handling of the foreshore debate and led by a particularly astute MP, it had the best possible start.

While rating between just 2 and 3.4 per cent in the polls, it could take all seven Maori seats on a good election day.

Current polls suggest that with fewer seats than that it could still hold the balance of power, determining the flavour of the next Government.

But six weeks out from the election it has a critical task ahead in order to cement in its current polling advantage in most of the Maori seats - and to convince other parties they should feel comfortable negotiating with it.

It needs to begin clearly translating what it stands for.

Turia admits it is "been quite hard to constantly think kaupapa and tikanga ... but our young people love that whole idea of the restoration of values and practices".

Labour quite likes the tikanga talk, too - but for a different reason.

In the tense but so far relatively dignified struggle for the Maori seats, it's using it to question what actual policy positions lie behind it and to suggest to voters there are very few.

On Tuesday, as the Herald interviews Turia, there is just the kaupapa framework and the foreshore policy on the website.

There have been other policy positions outlined on superannuation, tertiary education and tax - and Turia is surprised they are not on the website, but has been too busy to look.

Candidates working the hustings are speaking from a 48-page policy draft which she says she's happy to provide the Herald with - and does.

It is as detailed in terms of direction as would be expected from any comparatively new party.

There are gaps and a number of final positions yet to be nailed down - but plenty to package up.

Turia is often obdurate in her refusal to admit to problems in any waka she's steering - to media at least.

But other party members admit that making progress in this area has proved more complicated than anticipated and potential voters are demanding more detail.

As the Herald files out of Turia's office after an 8am interview, the candidates and campaign team are heading in for an all-day meeting to thrash out this very issue. Squeezed in between is a chat with a prospective communications adviser - much needed.

In Parliament Turia has only a receptionist, a recently acquired researcher and her long-time political adviser and right-hand woman Helen Leahy, a Pakeha.

Like the MP, who despite the earliness of the hour is tired if not exhausted, Leahy appears to work more than 24 hours a day.

She manages Turia's diary, political negotiations and the media - not to mention speech and press release writing.

All the key candidates hold down busy jobs and much of the daily work is managed by Turia's office.

Funds are tight and some initially intent on helping are now less keen, or in the case of some privately supportive public servants, have been spooked out of any overt involvement with the party.

And out on the streets as the foreshore recedes into a memory, so does talk of a collective Maori movement that speaks with one voice.

The meeting agrees the party must make firm stands on health, education and jobs - as well as Treaty issues and the foreshore heading into the formal campaign period.

There remains, however, a desire for some caution.

There have been glitches, some spontaneous policy announcements made with little consultation.

There have also been mistakes, such as Turia's meningococcal B campaign criticisms, which such an experienced politician shouldn't have tried to blame a journalist for writing after an on-record interview.

Too much haste nailing colours to the mast could result in more missteps which - while far from terminal so far - could undermine confidence in the party's long-term credibility if they pile up.

Strategically the party's leadership had little choice but to embrace a culturally "inclusive" philosophy.

But there is ongoing debate over the extent to which the energy of such a fledging party should be dissipated to cater for non-Maori and general electorates - although Turia again denies this is an issue.

She's unimpressed by a slightly tongue-in-cheek suggestion it is the party's own "iwi vs kiwi" debate - a phrase first coined by Labour's Shane Jones during the foreshore debate.

Yet as the Maori Party is finding - and working on with valiant determination - encouraging the red, black and white threads that are Maori voters through the eye of just one needle will be task enough.