This excuse comes despite Te Pāti Māori having already paid the audit firm for the work, and it highlights a troubling pattern: the party has repeatedly failed to comply with basic electoral finance laws. Te Pāti Māori’s ongoing issues with late and incomplete financial disclosures – from annual accounts to donation returns – raise serious questions about its commitment to legal obligations and political integrity. The general public should be concerned that a party which aspires to represent Aotearoa’s indigenous voice is also gaining a reputation for flouting the rules meant to ensure transparency and trust in our democracy.
Repeated failures to comply with electoral law
The missing audit report for 2023 is just the latest chapter in Te Pāti Māori’s track record of failing to meet its legal responsibilities. By law, parties must file annual financial statements (with an auditor’s sign-off if the party is an incorporated society) by mid-year. Yet Te Pāti Māori missed the 30 June 2024 deadline for its 2023 accounts, prompting the Electoral Commission to send multiple reminders and eventually refer the matter to Police on 4 October 2024 – see RNZ’s Police warn Te Pāti Māori over financial audit delay
When the party finally did file its accounts on 16 December 2024 – nearly six months late – the documents were unsigned by executives, and the required audit report was conspicuously absent. In addition, the financial statements contained discrepancies: the total donations reported in the 2023 accounts were about $5,793 lower than the figure Te Pāti Māori had reported in its official 2023 donations return back in May 2024.
In other words, the party’s own records didn’t match up, suggesting sloppiness (or worse) in how political donations are being tracked. As of mid-April 2025, the Electoral Commission is still waiting for the overdue audit, with officials repeatedly asking the party to deliver the final audited statements. Each time, Te Pāti Māori has stalled – even after assuring authorities in February that the audit was “being prepared”. The audit report remains missing, well over a year after it was due.
A History of donation failures
The above isn’t an isolated incident. Te Pāti Māori has a history of late or faulty financial disclosures. Back in 2021, the Electoral Commission had to deal with an even more egregious breach: the party (then referred to as the Māori Party) failed to declare more than $300,000 in large donations within the required timeframe – see RNZ’s Māori Party undeclared donations referred to police
Under electoral law, any donation over $30,000 must be declared to the Commission within 10 working days, so that voters know in real time who is bankrolling political parties. Te Pāti Māori utterly neglected this rule during the 2020 campaign – only in March and April 2021 (months after the election) did it belatedly declare three huge donations received in 2020. These included a total of $158,000 from John Tamihere (the former co-leader who is now the party president), about $50,000 from the National Urban Māori Authority, and a single $120,000 contribution via an entity called Aotearoa Te Kahu Limited Partnership. The Electoral Commission promptly referred this breach to the Police in April 2021 as a serious violation of the Electoral Act
For more on these issues in the past, see my previous 2021, 2022 and 2024 columns on this:
1. The Māori Party needs to come clean
2. Te Pāti Māori and vested interests
3. Te Pati Māori political donations scandal gets worse
Te Pāti Māori’s disdain for integrity rules
Te Pāti Māori’s leaders offered explanations for the 2020 donations fiasco – then-party president Che Wilson blamed it on volunteers “misinterpreting” the reporting rules as they hurriedly rebuilt the party. In the current 2023 accounts saga, the excuse is a holdup by an auditing firm.
Whether one believes these explanations or not, the fact remains that Te Pāti Māori has repeatedly broken the rules. Not filing mandatory reports on time, leaving required information incomplete, and misreporting donation totals are not minor technicalities; they strike at the heart of transparency in political financing. The pattern that emerges is one of a party that either does not take its legal obligations seriously, or lacks the internal organisation and governance to comply with them.
Neither is acceptable for a political party represented in Parliament. As critics have noted, Te Pāti Māori at times shows undisguised disdain for the laws and institutions it finds inconvenient. When asked about the long-overdue audit, party president John Tamihere responded with flippant bravado: “All will be revealed in good time. Rest assured the naughty Natives always comply to the letter of the law.”
Such a statement – characterising himself and his party as “naughty Natives” and effectively mocking the idea that they must obey the letter of the law – suggests a troublingly cavalier attitude from the party’s top leadership. It implies that Te Pāti Māori considers itself an exception, that eventually (on its own timeline) it will get around to complying, and that anyone raising concerns is simply impatient or picking on them due to discrimination. This is hardly the appropriate tone from a party president addressing lawful requirements; it reeks of disregard for accountability.
In this context, Te Pāti Māori’s policy that it intends to “establish a Māori Electoral Commission to take things back into our own hands” should be read as a dead end for establishing stronger electoral integrity in this country.
Police warning instead of prosecution
Given Te Pāti Māori’s pattern of non-compliance, many have wondered: where are the consequences? In the most recent case of the missing 2023 audit, the Electoral Commission’s referral did result in a Police investigation, but the outcome was a mild slap on the wrist. Police disclosed that they decided to “formally warn an individual” over the failure to file the audited statements, and indeed a formal warning was issued on 19 December 2024 – see Denise McNabb’s BusinessDesk news report from February: Police issue Te Pāti Māori individual formal warning over late accounts (paywalled)
In New Zealand’s system, a formal warning is an alternative to prosecution; it means the offence is recorded by Police but no further action (like charging or a court case) is taken. Essentially, Police have told Te Pāti Māori: you broke the law, we’ve noted it, now fix it – and don’t do it again. Police later stated they considered the matter “resolved” with that warning, expressing satisfaction that their response was appropriate. For Te Pāti Māori, this is undoubtedly a fortunate outcome, avoiding the fines or even imprisonment that can accompany Electoral Act breaches.
But is it the right outcome from the public’s perspective? On balance, issuing a formal warning in this case was arguably a fair and proportionate response.
However, leniency should not mean impunity. The purpose of a formal warning is to put the offender on notice that their behaviour is unacceptable and must not be repeated. Te Pāti Māori would be extremely unwise to treat the Police’s mild response as a free pass to keep flouting electoral law. The public, and the authorities, will expect the party to clean up its act immediately.
Indeed, the Police have indicated that the formal warning marked the end of this particular matter, implying that if there are future or ongoing violations, those would be new offences dealt with separately. Any further breaches could well trigger a much harsher response. In short, Te Pāti Māori has gotten a generous second chance – now it needs to demonstrate that it will comply “to the letter of the law,” as Tamihere ironically put it, not in a joking manner but in reality.
Scrutinising Te Pāti Māori’s funding
Te Pāti Māori likes to project an image as a peoples’ movement – a humble, kaupapa Māori party funded by grassroots supporters and unswayed by big corporate interests. It often contrasts itself against the major parties that take donations from wealthy businessmen or lobbyists.
However, a closer look at who actually funds and influences Te Pāti Māori tells a more complex story. The party is not as free from “big money” and potential vested interests as its anti-establishment rhetoric might suggest. In fact, some of the largest donations in recent years have come from entities and individuals with very close ties to the party’s leadership and with significant resources at stake, blurring the lines between political, business, and even charitable spheres.
Start with the 2020 undeclared donations scandal: those three huge contributions that Te Pāti Māori failed to report on time were hardly the pennies of ordinary whānau passing the hat around. One was from John Tamihere himself – the very person who now leads the party organisation. Tamihere, a former Cabinet Minister and prominent figure, poured $158k of his own money into the campaign.
Another $120k came from Aotearoa Te Kahu Limited Partnership, an opaque corporate structure whose ultimate benefactors remain a mystery. This limited partnership’s involvement means that a six-figure sum flowed into Te Pāti Māori’s coffers from an unknown source hidden behind lawyer-nominees. It’s the kind of secretive funding vehicle one might associate with big-money politics, not with a grassroots movement.
The third donation, just under $50k, was from the National Urban Māori Authority (NUMA) – a charitable trust. NUMA’s contribution is especially striking: this is an organisation funded largely by taxpayer money through the Whānau Ora programme, which bankrolls social services for Māori. In other words, an entity receiving public funds for community development turned around and donated some of that money (indirectly earmarked for community services) to a political party.
Government ministers at the time scrambled to assure the public that no taxpayer money was used for the Māori Party’s campaign, and perhaps the dollars donated were technically from non-government sources. But even if that’s true, it highlights an uncomfortable entanglement: a state-funded charity became a political donor. This raised eyebrows in 2021, and rightly so – it suggests Te Pāti Māori’s finances are entwined with organisations that have their own agendas and revenue streams originating from the public purse.
Then there is Te Whānau o Waipareira Trust, the West Auckland Māori trust which John Tamihere heads as Chief Executive. Waipareira is a major recipient of government funding for health and social programs, and it has also been a major backer of Tamihere’s political endeavours. A recently concluded four-year investigation by the Department of Internal Affairs (Charities Services) found that Waipareira Trust had provided “hundreds of thousands of dollars” in donations and support to campaigns linked to Tamihere – see the Herald’s Matt Nippert: Investigation into Waipareira political donations referred to Charities Registration Board (paywalled)
This dates back to Tamihere’s 2019 run for Auckland Mayor (Waipareira donated $100,000 to that campaign) and continued through to Te Pāti Māori’s general election campaigns in 2020 and 2023. In total, funding from Waipareira to Tamihere’s political ventures amounted to approximately $385,000 over recent years.
Such financial overlap between a charitable entity and partisan politics is not only ethically problematic – it may be outright unlawful for a charity. The investigation’s findings have been referred to the Charities Registration Board, which is in the process of deregistering Waipareira Trust for violating rules that prohibit charities from making political donations – see Matt Nippert’s December article, Regulator to deregister Waipareira over political donations (paywalled)
Deregistration would be a severe outcome, stripping Waipareira of its tax-exempt status and potentially leaving it with a multimillion-dollar tax bill. The fact that Waipareira is facing such consequences underscores how serious these issues are. Te Pāti Māori’s president isn’t just tapping into a grassroots piggy bank; he’s effectively been leveraging a publicly-funded charity to support the party. That calls into question the party’s claims of being free from the influence of big money or vested interests. In this case, one could argue the party itself became a vested interest of a charitable trust’s leadership. It’s a tangled web in which political power, charitable funds, and personal influence are all intermingled.
Beyond the dollars and cents, there are overlapping relationships that further muddy the waters. John Tamihere sits at the nexus of many of these relationships. He is simultaneously Te Pāti Māori’s president, the CEO of the Waipareira Trust, and the CEO of the North Island Whānau Ora Commissioning Agency (which distributes substantial government funding for Māori welfare). He also has influence over affiliated bodies like the National Urban Māori Authority and even a media outlet (Waatea News) under the Waipareira umbrella.
I have previously described these interconnected organisations as a “fiefdom” that Tamihere controls – a network that can be mobilised for both community and political ends. Indeed, numerous critics and observers have suggested that Tamihere’s empire blurs the line between public service and political campaigning.
We saw an example of this blur in the 2023 election: allegations emerged (and are being investigated) that Manurewa Marae, which had a government contract to help collect Census data, misused that role to assist Te Pāti Māori’s campaign in Tāmaki Makaurau. The Marae’s CEO at the time was Te Pāti Māori candidate (now MP) Takutai Kemp, and staff were reportedly copying confidential personal data to identify and turn out potential Māori Party voters. That scandal (separate from finances, but related to integrity) has pulled in agencies from Stats NZ to the Privacy Commissioner. It illustrates how Tamihere’s orbit of organisations – Waipareira Trust, Whānau Ora, Marae, media, etc – can be marshalled in ways that advantage his political party, sometimes at the expense of rules or ethical norms.
Such overlapping interests absolutely demand scrutiny. Te Pāti Māori does not exist in a vacuum of noble grassroots activism; it exists within a network of powerful interests, funding sources, and public institutions. The party may rail against “corporate” influence or claim a high ground against the wealthy elite, but if it is receiving hidden donations from unknown limited partnerships, large infusions from charities or trusts, and possibly even indirect support through publicly-funded programs, then it must answer the same questions about influence and integrity that any big party does.
Conclusion: Upholding integrity for all parties
Te Pāti Māori’s pattern of disregarding electoral laws and its entanglement with well-resourced organisations pose a serious challenge to its image as a principled political force. The party cannot have it both ways – it cannot wrap itself in the mantle of grassroots integrity while repeatedly ignoring the rules that ensure transparency and fairness. The ongoing failure to file proper accounts and audits is not just a bureaucratic blunder; it strikes at the credibility of the party’s leadership. Likewise, the evidence that Te Pāti Māori benefits from big donations and institutional support means the party is not above the influence of vested interests. In fact, it suggests the party has its own set of powerful backers and insiders, even as it criticises others for being in the pocket of corporations or lobbyists.
New Zealanders have every right to expect all political parties, no matter their size or ideology, to play by the rules. Electoral law exists to prevent corruption and to maintain a level playing field. When a party flouts those laws, it undermines public trust in the democratic system.
Te Pāti Māori’s voters, many of whom support the party to uplift Māori communities and challenge the status quo, should be the first to insist that their party adheres to the highest standards of integrity. After all, how can one credibly advocate for justice or Tiriti-based ethics in government while neglecting one’s own legal duties in party management? The party’s leaders must take responsibility. They need to urgently straighten out their accounting and compliance processes, fully cooperate with auditors and investigators, and be transparent with the public about any past mistakes. Issuing belated reports with missing pages and joking about being “naughty” lawbreakers is simply not good enough.
For now, authorities have given Te Pāti Māori a chance to right its ship without facing prosecution. But election finance laws need to be enforced, otherwise they might as well not exist. If Te Pāti Māori continues down its current path of delays, omissions, and nonchalant defiance, it risks far more than a warning – it risks legal penalties and, more importantly, a tarnished reputation in the eyes of the public.
Furthermore, the party’s supporters and all fair-minded observers should demand clarity about where Te Pāti Māori’s money comes from and how it is used. Is the party truly independent and grassroots, or is it bankrolled by a small circle of wealthy interests and diverted charitable funds? These are questions that must be answered to dispel any perception of donations-related corruption.
In the end, integrity in politics is indivisible. We should not excuse one party’s breaches just because we sympathise with its kaupapa or constituents. A party that prides itself on challenging the powerful must itself be accountable. Te Pāti Māori has fought for the mantra that Māori voices be heard and respected in New Zealand – a goal many of us applaud.
But along with that goes a responsibility to honour the laws and principles that uphold our democracy. As the proverb says, “Ka mura, ka muri” – we walk into the future with our eyes fixed on the past. Te Pāti Māori’s past and recent behaviour on financial transparency has been poor; if it wants a future as a credible force, it must learn from these mistakes, show that it respects the rule of law, and prove that it can be as clean as it claims to be.
Dr Bryce Edwards is a politics lecturer at Victoria University and director of Critical Politics, a project focused on researching New Zealand politics and society. This article was first published HERE
Repeated failures to comply with electoral law
The missing audit report for 2023 is just the latest chapter in Te Pāti Māori’s track record of failing to meet its legal responsibilities. By law, parties must file annual financial statements (with an auditor’s sign-off if the party is an incorporated society) by mid-year. Yet Te Pāti Māori missed the 30 June 2024 deadline for its 2023 accounts, prompting the Electoral Commission to send multiple reminders and eventually refer the matter to Police on 4 October 2024 – see RNZ’s Police warn Te Pāti Māori over financial audit delay
When the party finally did file its accounts on 16 December 2024 – nearly six months late – the documents were unsigned by executives, and the required audit report was conspicuously absent. In addition, the financial statements contained discrepancies: the total donations reported in the 2023 accounts were about $5,793 lower than the figure Te Pāti Māori had reported in its official 2023 donations return back in May 2024.
In other words, the party’s own records didn’t match up, suggesting sloppiness (or worse) in how political donations are being tracked. As of mid-April 2025, the Electoral Commission is still waiting for the overdue audit, with officials repeatedly asking the party to deliver the final audited statements. Each time, Te Pāti Māori has stalled – even after assuring authorities in February that the audit was “being prepared”. The audit report remains missing, well over a year after it was due.
A History of donation failures
The above isn’t an isolated incident. Te Pāti Māori has a history of late or faulty financial disclosures. Back in 2021, the Electoral Commission had to deal with an even more egregious breach: the party (then referred to as the Māori Party) failed to declare more than $300,000 in large donations within the required timeframe – see RNZ’s Māori Party undeclared donations referred to police
Under electoral law, any donation over $30,000 must be declared to the Commission within 10 working days, so that voters know in real time who is bankrolling political parties. Te Pāti Māori utterly neglected this rule during the 2020 campaign – only in March and April 2021 (months after the election) did it belatedly declare three huge donations received in 2020. These included a total of $158,000 from John Tamihere (the former co-leader who is now the party president), about $50,000 from the National Urban Māori Authority, and a single $120,000 contribution via an entity called Aotearoa Te Kahu Limited Partnership. The Electoral Commission promptly referred this breach to the Police in April 2021 as a serious violation of the Electoral Act
For more on these issues in the past, see my previous 2021, 2022 and 2024 columns on this:
1. The Māori Party needs to come clean
2. Te Pāti Māori and vested interests
3. Te Pati Māori political donations scandal gets worse
Te Pāti Māori’s disdain for integrity rules
Te Pāti Māori’s leaders offered explanations for the 2020 donations fiasco – then-party president Che Wilson blamed it on volunteers “misinterpreting” the reporting rules as they hurriedly rebuilt the party. In the current 2023 accounts saga, the excuse is a holdup by an auditing firm.
Whether one believes these explanations or not, the fact remains that Te Pāti Māori has repeatedly broken the rules. Not filing mandatory reports on time, leaving required information incomplete, and misreporting donation totals are not minor technicalities; they strike at the heart of transparency in political financing. The pattern that emerges is one of a party that either does not take its legal obligations seriously, or lacks the internal organisation and governance to comply with them.
Neither is acceptable for a political party represented in Parliament. As critics have noted, Te Pāti Māori at times shows undisguised disdain for the laws and institutions it finds inconvenient. When asked about the long-overdue audit, party president John Tamihere responded with flippant bravado: “All will be revealed in good time. Rest assured the naughty Natives always comply to the letter of the law.”
Such a statement – characterising himself and his party as “naughty Natives” and effectively mocking the idea that they must obey the letter of the law – suggests a troublingly cavalier attitude from the party’s top leadership. It implies that Te Pāti Māori considers itself an exception, that eventually (on its own timeline) it will get around to complying, and that anyone raising concerns is simply impatient or picking on them due to discrimination. This is hardly the appropriate tone from a party president addressing lawful requirements; it reeks of disregard for accountability.
In this context, Te Pāti Māori’s policy that it intends to “establish a Māori Electoral Commission to take things back into our own hands” should be read as a dead end for establishing stronger electoral integrity in this country.
Police warning instead of prosecution
Given Te Pāti Māori’s pattern of non-compliance, many have wondered: where are the consequences? In the most recent case of the missing 2023 audit, the Electoral Commission’s referral did result in a Police investigation, but the outcome was a mild slap on the wrist. Police disclosed that they decided to “formally warn an individual” over the failure to file the audited statements, and indeed a formal warning was issued on 19 December 2024 – see Denise McNabb’s BusinessDesk news report from February: Police issue Te Pāti Māori individual formal warning over late accounts (paywalled)
In New Zealand’s system, a formal warning is an alternative to prosecution; it means the offence is recorded by Police but no further action (like charging or a court case) is taken. Essentially, Police have told Te Pāti Māori: you broke the law, we’ve noted it, now fix it – and don’t do it again. Police later stated they considered the matter “resolved” with that warning, expressing satisfaction that their response was appropriate. For Te Pāti Māori, this is undoubtedly a fortunate outcome, avoiding the fines or even imprisonment that can accompany Electoral Act breaches.
But is it the right outcome from the public’s perspective? On balance, issuing a formal warning in this case was arguably a fair and proportionate response.
However, leniency should not mean impunity. The purpose of a formal warning is to put the offender on notice that their behaviour is unacceptable and must not be repeated. Te Pāti Māori would be extremely unwise to treat the Police’s mild response as a free pass to keep flouting electoral law. The public, and the authorities, will expect the party to clean up its act immediately.
Indeed, the Police have indicated that the formal warning marked the end of this particular matter, implying that if there are future or ongoing violations, those would be new offences dealt with separately. Any further breaches could well trigger a much harsher response. In short, Te Pāti Māori has gotten a generous second chance – now it needs to demonstrate that it will comply “to the letter of the law,” as Tamihere ironically put it, not in a joking manner but in reality.
Scrutinising Te Pāti Māori’s funding
Te Pāti Māori likes to project an image as a peoples’ movement – a humble, kaupapa Māori party funded by grassroots supporters and unswayed by big corporate interests. It often contrasts itself against the major parties that take donations from wealthy businessmen or lobbyists.
However, a closer look at who actually funds and influences Te Pāti Māori tells a more complex story. The party is not as free from “big money” and potential vested interests as its anti-establishment rhetoric might suggest. In fact, some of the largest donations in recent years have come from entities and individuals with very close ties to the party’s leadership and with significant resources at stake, blurring the lines between political, business, and even charitable spheres.
Start with the 2020 undeclared donations scandal: those three huge contributions that Te Pāti Māori failed to report on time were hardly the pennies of ordinary whānau passing the hat around. One was from John Tamihere himself – the very person who now leads the party organisation. Tamihere, a former Cabinet Minister and prominent figure, poured $158k of his own money into the campaign.
Another $120k came from Aotearoa Te Kahu Limited Partnership, an opaque corporate structure whose ultimate benefactors remain a mystery. This limited partnership’s involvement means that a six-figure sum flowed into Te Pāti Māori’s coffers from an unknown source hidden behind lawyer-nominees. It’s the kind of secretive funding vehicle one might associate with big-money politics, not with a grassroots movement.
The third donation, just under $50k, was from the National Urban Māori Authority (NUMA) – a charitable trust. NUMA’s contribution is especially striking: this is an organisation funded largely by taxpayer money through the Whānau Ora programme, which bankrolls social services for Māori. In other words, an entity receiving public funds for community development turned around and donated some of that money (indirectly earmarked for community services) to a political party.
Government ministers at the time scrambled to assure the public that no taxpayer money was used for the Māori Party’s campaign, and perhaps the dollars donated were technically from non-government sources. But even if that’s true, it highlights an uncomfortable entanglement: a state-funded charity became a political donor. This raised eyebrows in 2021, and rightly so – it suggests Te Pāti Māori’s finances are entwined with organisations that have their own agendas and revenue streams originating from the public purse.
Then there is Te Whānau o Waipareira Trust, the West Auckland Māori trust which John Tamihere heads as Chief Executive. Waipareira is a major recipient of government funding for health and social programs, and it has also been a major backer of Tamihere’s political endeavours. A recently concluded four-year investigation by the Department of Internal Affairs (Charities Services) found that Waipareira Trust had provided “hundreds of thousands of dollars” in donations and support to campaigns linked to Tamihere – see the Herald’s Matt Nippert: Investigation into Waipareira political donations referred to Charities Registration Board (paywalled)
This dates back to Tamihere’s 2019 run for Auckland Mayor (Waipareira donated $100,000 to that campaign) and continued through to Te Pāti Māori’s general election campaigns in 2020 and 2023. In total, funding from Waipareira to Tamihere’s political ventures amounted to approximately $385,000 over recent years.
Such financial overlap between a charitable entity and partisan politics is not only ethically problematic – it may be outright unlawful for a charity. The investigation’s findings have been referred to the Charities Registration Board, which is in the process of deregistering Waipareira Trust for violating rules that prohibit charities from making political donations – see Matt Nippert’s December article, Regulator to deregister Waipareira over political donations (paywalled)
Deregistration would be a severe outcome, stripping Waipareira of its tax-exempt status and potentially leaving it with a multimillion-dollar tax bill. The fact that Waipareira is facing such consequences underscores how serious these issues are. Te Pāti Māori’s president isn’t just tapping into a grassroots piggy bank; he’s effectively been leveraging a publicly-funded charity to support the party. That calls into question the party’s claims of being free from the influence of big money or vested interests. In this case, one could argue the party itself became a vested interest of a charitable trust’s leadership. It’s a tangled web in which political power, charitable funds, and personal influence are all intermingled.
Beyond the dollars and cents, there are overlapping relationships that further muddy the waters. John Tamihere sits at the nexus of many of these relationships. He is simultaneously Te Pāti Māori’s president, the CEO of the Waipareira Trust, and the CEO of the North Island Whānau Ora Commissioning Agency (which distributes substantial government funding for Māori welfare). He also has influence over affiliated bodies like the National Urban Māori Authority and even a media outlet (Waatea News) under the Waipareira umbrella.
I have previously described these interconnected organisations as a “fiefdom” that Tamihere controls – a network that can be mobilised for both community and political ends. Indeed, numerous critics and observers have suggested that Tamihere’s empire blurs the line between public service and political campaigning.
We saw an example of this blur in the 2023 election: allegations emerged (and are being investigated) that Manurewa Marae, which had a government contract to help collect Census data, misused that role to assist Te Pāti Māori’s campaign in Tāmaki Makaurau. The Marae’s CEO at the time was Te Pāti Māori candidate (now MP) Takutai Kemp, and staff were reportedly copying confidential personal data to identify and turn out potential Māori Party voters. That scandal (separate from finances, but related to integrity) has pulled in agencies from Stats NZ to the Privacy Commissioner. It illustrates how Tamihere’s orbit of organisations – Waipareira Trust, Whānau Ora, Marae, media, etc – can be marshalled in ways that advantage his political party, sometimes at the expense of rules or ethical norms.
Such overlapping interests absolutely demand scrutiny. Te Pāti Māori does not exist in a vacuum of noble grassroots activism; it exists within a network of powerful interests, funding sources, and public institutions. The party may rail against “corporate” influence or claim a high ground against the wealthy elite, but if it is receiving hidden donations from unknown limited partnerships, large infusions from charities or trusts, and possibly even indirect support through publicly-funded programs, then it must answer the same questions about influence and integrity that any big party does.
Conclusion: Upholding integrity for all parties
Te Pāti Māori’s pattern of disregarding electoral laws and its entanglement with well-resourced organisations pose a serious challenge to its image as a principled political force. The party cannot have it both ways – it cannot wrap itself in the mantle of grassroots integrity while repeatedly ignoring the rules that ensure transparency and fairness. The ongoing failure to file proper accounts and audits is not just a bureaucratic blunder; it strikes at the credibility of the party’s leadership. Likewise, the evidence that Te Pāti Māori benefits from big donations and institutional support means the party is not above the influence of vested interests. In fact, it suggests the party has its own set of powerful backers and insiders, even as it criticises others for being in the pocket of corporations or lobbyists.
New Zealanders have every right to expect all political parties, no matter their size or ideology, to play by the rules. Electoral law exists to prevent corruption and to maintain a level playing field. When a party flouts those laws, it undermines public trust in the democratic system.
Te Pāti Māori’s voters, many of whom support the party to uplift Māori communities and challenge the status quo, should be the first to insist that their party adheres to the highest standards of integrity. After all, how can one credibly advocate for justice or Tiriti-based ethics in government while neglecting one’s own legal duties in party management? The party’s leaders must take responsibility. They need to urgently straighten out their accounting and compliance processes, fully cooperate with auditors and investigators, and be transparent with the public about any past mistakes. Issuing belated reports with missing pages and joking about being “naughty” lawbreakers is simply not good enough.
For now, authorities have given Te Pāti Māori a chance to right its ship without facing prosecution. But election finance laws need to be enforced, otherwise they might as well not exist. If Te Pāti Māori continues down its current path of delays, omissions, and nonchalant defiance, it risks far more than a warning – it risks legal penalties and, more importantly, a tarnished reputation in the eyes of the public.
Furthermore, the party’s supporters and all fair-minded observers should demand clarity about where Te Pāti Māori’s money comes from and how it is used. Is the party truly independent and grassroots, or is it bankrolled by a small circle of wealthy interests and diverted charitable funds? These are questions that must be answered to dispel any perception of donations-related corruption.
In the end, integrity in politics is indivisible. We should not excuse one party’s breaches just because we sympathise with its kaupapa or constituents. A party that prides itself on challenging the powerful must itself be accountable. Te Pāti Māori has fought for the mantra that Māori voices be heard and respected in New Zealand – a goal many of us applaud.
But along with that goes a responsibility to honour the laws and principles that uphold our democracy. As the proverb says, “Ka mura, ka muri” – we walk into the future with our eyes fixed on the past. Te Pāti Māori’s past and recent behaviour on financial transparency has been poor; if it wants a future as a credible force, it must learn from these mistakes, show that it respects the rule of law, and prove that it can be as clean as it claims to be.
Dr Bryce Edwards is a politics lecturer at Victoria University and director of Critical Politics, a project focused on researching New Zealand politics and society. This article was first published HERE
9 comments:
We are a just a corrupt little country at the bottom of the world. Your article is a wonderful example of this. I really thought that people like the author and many other writers could bring attention to all our issues but there is no effective fourth estate. No-one knows what is happening. It is a shame on our country and will lead to us being a corrupt little country sunk at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. MC
As Michael Laws says: The rules do not apply to Maori https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKM4TN9ILjE
Further, as I have written before, New Zealand does not appear to have a clue when it comes to CME, that is Compliance Monitoring and Enforcement, partlicularly when it comes to one particular group. Yes, that 'E' stand for ENFORCEMENT, strange that?
So without compliance, I assume that TPM will be disqualified from standing in the 2026 election ?
As a general observation, Maori and money don't mix, as they have an attitude of what's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine alone.
Years ago an accountant told me that the IRD usually gave Maori a degree of latitude that didn't apply to normal people.
If we all identify as Maori, then the rules no longer apply to us as well. Maybe we need to all get on this bandwagon and use the system that they have created to our advantage.
A conviction from the NZ Electoral Commission means that the person convicted is placed on the Corrupt Practices list for three years on top of the fine etc . That is why TPM and their funders did not want to have a day in Court becuse a corrupt person notation would not be good for future Government funding or Election participation.
In a similar vein is there any accounting for the billions of dollars handed to Maori in good faith assuming that it will be used for the purpose ?
Any auditing at all ?
Sets of accounts carefully kept ?
Any scrutiny of the people handling the money ?
Then ask why after all these decades of hand outs why the Maori at the lower echelon are still struggling while their kaumata are driving around in flash Rangerovers ?
Corruption at the highest levels setting a very poor example for the whole tribe.
CORR...." corrupt and bankrupt little country."....
and there we have it, their corruption must be hidden at all costs. Yet we had the SFO go after Winston and NZF more than once only to get mud on their faces. Anyone else sick of the duplicity?
Can I relate this opine to a recent set of events that involved Donald Trump. He cut off the " money supply " to the African National Congress (ANC) - the reasons being ' fraud being considered, as conducted by them on previous "donations" of US money supposedly for infrastructure development - but apparently was ' siphoned' for other uses, by ANC Party Members. Something that Mrs Winnie Mandela was very capable of doing, back in the day.
Now the ANC moaned that they were ' hard done by ', by this action - the interesting thing - that some Afrikaner's, using the medium of YouTube posted videos of what was happening, with guiding verbal commentary - very interesting to say the least re the recent ongoings of the ANC. Who consider themselves a ' Law unto themselves ', sounds like Te Pati Maori
Now if you do not know - South Africa is bankrupt, from ineptitude by the ANC over past years. Of recent, the supply of power to consumers has been poor to non-existent - the main Power Authority - is managed by the ANC.
Got this far - scratching your head - well - equate above to Te Pati Maori and other Iwi plus - who have held their hands out for the ' white dollar '.
Also ask yourself - " why did the Otago Regional Council, give (yes give) $5 million to a local Iwi "- something that Michael Laws (The Platform) reported on - BUT not the Otago daily Times, that newspaper that is considered to be the leading contender for " most trusted media outlet in NZ "??
I have spoken to former Citizens of South Africa, they have stated often, that NZ is heading the same way that SA did, with the rise of The ANC, but they can not fathom, why New Zealander's do not "seem to understand or care"!
And you now have an idea why, among many other factors, 80, 000 Kiwis have moved to Aussie.
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