As a child, my parents were Labour voters and to me that seemed like the moral choice. John Key’s National government at the time did not have their best interests at heart as they prioritised wealth over wellbeing. New Zealand First, headed at the time by an old Winston Peters, appealed more to my grandparents. Meanwhile, Act was on no one's radar; it was that space filled by centrist Peter Dunne flip-flopping for power. This meant in my youth I was a Labour supporter. The parties I support now, Greens and Māori, were not something younger me considered for when I would hypothetically vote. This was due to the lack of Māori presence in Dunedin at the time, and Greens’ love for nature did not appeal to me at a time where I did not understand what climate change was. As I grew older, I saw the cracks in the system but there was one politician using the kintsugi method to fill those cracks with gold: Chlöe Swarbrick.
Once in high school, where politics start to matter as you start to matter in society, all you see is 120 seats filled with old men and women. You don’t feel represented or spoken for because who would understand you? A young Greens MP from Auckland would. She talks like you, about you, and more importantly to you. She wants to understand what issues you face in your everyday life and how she can fix it on a national level. Through the last few election cycles where she wasn’t even leader for her party, she was still one of the most preferred Prime Ministers for New Zealand. You think Jacinda Adern is great but you want the “woke lesbö”. At least, for a certain point in time.
It is often said that you should not idolise politicians, but with Chlöe it was hard not to. The charisma of Barack Obama with the politics of Bernie Sanders, along with being a member of the queer community, meant a lot to me personally. I met her in 2023 in the Radio 1 office, where I was volunteering at the time, and tried not to hassle her with my admiration. Instead we bonded over both being Cancers. Within the one and a half years between that interaction and my most recent meeting with her when she rocked up to the Critic office with Francesco Hernandez in O-Week, my politics had radicalised. Meeting new people and reading more has opened up my mind on how I want current New Zealand society to operate. Simply put: it’s not working right now. Chlöe agrees with me. Kind of.
I was excited to hear Chlöe’s views since she’s now become the Co-leader of the Greens. But after a long conversation with me and our editor Nina, I felt disappointed. When I mentioned I was radicalised, I meant it. The conversation turned towards the wealth disparity within the country and the world, and I admitted my admiration for Luigi Mangione. I didn’t fully advocate political violence; but I wasn’t fully against it, either. Whether for better or for worse, all revolution means an uprising from the disenfranchised that results in violence. This is shown by the civil rights movement in the 1960s, a brick being thrown at Stonewall, and, most infamously, the French Revolution. When 10% of the world owns 85% of the wealth, it makes sense that people want heads to roll. From my perspective, there has not been a middle class in New Zealand since Rogernomics in the ‘80s. There is only rich and poor. This divide often isn’t focused on due to other forms of politics. Malcolm X and Martin Luther King frequently expressed displeasure with the wealth gap in America, as well as racial injustice. MLK used tactical protests to attack the pockets of white businesses. The Black Panthers in many American states had free breakfast programs for children. These free breakfasts even involved local gangs to help stop gang activity but the programme stopped due to FBI raids, who claimed the organisation was indoctrinating kids. Infamously, many peaceful marches held by MLK ended in violence when cops would use dog units and firehoses to stop protestors.
These are two examples of movements trying to remove inequality and poverty from society in peaceful ways but, due to the capitalist and inherently white supremacist and patriarchal systems in place, were met with violence. You may dispute that this is not the case in New Zealand but it is abundantly clear we are closer to America than we may think. Whether through Luxon’s boot camps that plan to stop youth crime or Seymour’s Treaty Principles Bill, these right-wing politicians are implementing action reminiscent of Regan, Bush and Trump – even if it is in a more subdued way. Chlöe of course agrees with this, but she also wants to fix the system, which I do not believe is possible. As a non-binary person that also suffers from mental health issues, the system hates me. It was designed for me to fail, as is the case for every other marginalised group. This is why I personally advocate for burning society to the ground and rebuilding from there. New carpet doesn’t fix the foundation of the house.
Unfortunately, Chlöe is still a politician so she is fighting for the same system. Her counter-argument offered to me is that when society is burnt it will be awful for those who are disabled as well other marginalised groups. While true, the disabled community is not doing too well anyways – and it doesn’t seem like it will get better when you still have billionaires, corporations, and politicians actively destroying the world. At this point, policy is too slow of a process to save a world that is burning. There needs to be change and it needs to happen now.
I still think Chlöe is a great person, especially off the record, but while she remains a politician who wants to work with politicians who still view a majority of the country as less than human, little will change. It’s a reminder that real change doesn't happen through legislation, it happens through community. People are the power, but there are people in the way. It depends what you want to do about it but, in my opinion, arguing in a building for hours on end isn’t the way.