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The circus appears to be collapsing. I’m talking about the messy public unravelling of Te Pāti Māori’s MPs, who are no longer able to hide internal struggles and dissent. When you have just six MPs and they start turning on each other, then you know something is not right. It may in fact be much worse than it seems from the outside.
On Thursday, Toitū Te Tiriti, who drove last year’s nationwide hīkoi to Parliament, announced it was distancing itself from Te Pāti Māori. Spokesman Eru Kapa-Kingi told Te Ao Māori News the organisation was not a lobby group for the party. He claims the party has not held its annual general meeting and national council hui, despite constitutional requirements.
Radio New Zealand is reporting Te Pāti Māori will announce a “planned reset” next week.
History shows voters have little appetite for self-centred, power-hungry, ego-driven vanity, especially as Māori voters are more likely to be suffering increased hardship through these tough economic times. Their tolerance for this tussle will be limited.
The unhappiness is no longer under wraps - or aimed at the colonisers. This is far more intense; the first internal scrap to make it out of the caucus. I think it threatens the very survival of Te Pāti Māori. Will its voters walk away? There’s every chance. Infighting and internal warfare, if it’s not knocked on the head, can linger and Māori voters might just lose interest and vote for an insurance policy in Labour instead.
Many Pākehā will rejoice at the division in Te Pāti Māori, after being on the receiving end of some offensive rhetoric. So let’s not sugar-coat it: Te Pāti Māori is fighting for its survival and there’s no future in splitting it into two. What began as a political revival -- bold, unapologetic, by Māori for Māori - has devolved into a circus of internal power plays, egos, and, as Te Tai Tokerau MP Mariameno Kapa-Kingi – Eru’s mother -- said after being stripped of the party whip last month, “dysfunction”.
The whip is middle management, sitting in behind the leaders and organising other MPs, and is meant to be intensely loyal to the leadership. Kapa-Kingi’s crime? She spoke of internal struggles and criticised a team member. To think she would get away with it and face no sanction was simply naive. Her demotion was swift, there was no natural justice or negotiation entered into. She broke the code and only three people can judge that: Te Pāti Māori’s co-leaders Debbie Ngarewa-Packer and Rawiri Waititi and party president John Tamihere.
Tamihere is the powerbroker. He’s the shadowy figure in the background who wields power and keeps things really tight. I’d say he likes control, and the deeper you look, the more it’s clear: this isn’t a team effort anymore, it’s a fight for control of the party.
NOT ALL IN THE SAME WAKA
From the outside, the public sees a party full of energy: a haka in the House, treaty walkouts, scathing speeches about colonisation. But behind closed doors, MPs talk about control, fear, and top-down decision-making.
Mariameno Kapa-Kingi voicing concerns about how the party was being run wasn’t dissent; it was democracy. But in this version of Te Pāti Māori, there’s no room for independent thought unless it aligns with the inner circle. The inner circle is tight, with Tamihere at its centre having genuine skin in the game -- his daughter, Kiri, is married to co-leader Rawiri Waititi.
Although the party’s constitution technically separates the president from the caucus, insiders say Tamihere is the gatekeeper: deciding candidate lists, managing communications and calling the shots on major internal decisions. The MPs may sit in the House, but it’s Tamihere who sets the tone. Public messaging is tightly managed. No one seems to move without the president’s approval.
But Te Pāti Māori was supposed to be the people’s party, a vehicle for Māori aspirations, not a personal fiefdom. Instead, it’s becoming what every political party claims it never wants to be: centralised, paranoid and increasingly intolerant of a challenge.
TWO CAMPS
Some insiders say the party is fractured into two camps: one loyal to the co-leaders and Tamihere, the other quietly disillusioned by how the party is being run. The latter are staying silent, for now, because to speak out is to be excommunicated.
Others say this is the price of activist politics. But movements only survive when they stay open and inclusive, not when they become political monopolies that benefit just a handful. I see Te Pāti Māori as fast becoming a toxic, wholly unlikeable party with an aggressive cult of personality.
Labour leader Chris Hipkins was right when he said Te Pāti Māori appears to be a “long way away” from being ready for a role in government. Eru Kapa-Kingi, a former party vice-president, claims it’s morphed into a dictatorship. You’d expect him to say that; he’s supporting his mum.
Is this the end? Possibly. Voters have little patience for this. But the real question is can Te Pāti Māori point to policies they’ve got across the line that have materially improved Māori lives? No, I don’t think they can.
I can’t imagine there are too many people who have sympathy for the party’s current plight. This version of Te Pāti Māori has lacked humility, empathy and general decency towards anyone who isn’t Māori. Its leaders have been rude, arrogant and dismissive. Its politics have been toxic and self-serving.
Sadly, I’m not sure the current leadership are the right people to lead Māori anywhere, and I believe that view is shared not just by Pākehā New Zealanders, but many Māori, too.
