What was Chris Bishop thinking? An earnest attempt to figure it out

The Spinoff

a day ago

It's an objectively crazy way to behave. But I kind of get it, writes Duncan Greive.
This time last week, Chris Bishop was having an awesome day. A massive NZ music fan, heading to the big awards show – a great night ahead of him. I saw him there, standing alongside his colleague Paul Goldsmith, next to the bar during the intermission. Bishop looked like he was having an excellent time, though to be fair everyone did – the awards are huge and informal and a great night out.
As we now know, the fun wouldn't last for Bishop. Within a couple of hours he'd muttered derisively during a performance by Stan Walker and had a confrontation with Don McGlashan, a singer and songwriter so universally beloved that both Newstalk ZB and RNZ, which agree on very little, describe him as a national treasure. By the following day, Bishop's comments had become the biggest news story to emerge from the awards in years, and Bishop no doubt deeply regrets not keeping his opinions to himself. In the week since, he has stood by his statements on the night but acknowledged, both to media and to the prime minister, that he 'should have kept my thoughts to myself'.
Bishop confirmed to RNZ that he'd said something about 'performative acclaim' during Walker's performance and referred to it as 'a load of crap'. It was poor timing. It was also just plain wrong. Walker's performance was one of the highlights of the night, a soaring ballad (he is becoming New Zealand's Celine Dion – a huge compliment, to be clear) which really took flight when the room filled with supporters waving Toitū te Tiriti flags, prompting an outpouring from the room. This seems an open and shut case, and I'm not here to defend Bishop – that would be almost as foolish as his behaviour – but there are mitigating circumstances which feel material to the current public prosecution.
1. Toitū te Tiriti is a complex organisation
Stuff political editor Luke Malpass once adroitly observed that the Green Party likely scoop up a non-trivial proportion of its votes from people who feel a general dread about the climate and environment, and feel marginally better by giving the party their vote, and don't look much deeper into the policy platform or what they most emphasise. There's a similar phenomenon at work with Toitū te Tiriti. It's both a phrase and an organisation, a sentiment and closely allied with a specific parliamentary party.
The phrase is well-supported, with more than seven in 10 New Zealanders endorsing the idea of 'harmonious race relations through honouring te Tiriti', according to polling by the Human Rights Commission earlier this year. At a guess, Bishop is one of them, as among the most prominent and unambiguous members of the liberal wing of the National Party.
However, Toitū te Tiriti is also an organisation, one which achieved an awe-inspiring level of support during the hīkoi mō te Tiriti earlier this year. The organisation created a vast, countrywide response to both the Treaty principles bill and what supporters perceive as a large number of policies which go against the spirit of te Tiriti.
But while the support for that general idea is broad and will necessarily include voters for a number of parties, the organisation Toitū te Tiriti has deep ties to Te Pāti Māori, most notably through one of its key organisers, Eru Kapa-Kingi, a teaching fellow at the University of Auckland who stood unsuccessfully for parliament in the 2023 election on Te Pāti Māori's list. Supporting the phrase is one thing, supporting the organisation another, and knowing how to practically apply it across society and politics is, to put it mildly, complicated. This is likely what Chris Bishop was trying and failing to express in the moment.
2. Arts and culture has a near total lack of representation for right wing politics
Labour's Willie Jackson is not wrong in his statement on the Chris Bishop affair. 'Look around the world, people have been doing that for years. Whether it's Bob Marley, Bono, whatever, it's been happening, it's not like something new. He should talk to his Shihad heroes, 'cause the lead singer there's got pretty good politics too.' The phrase 'good politics' is telling there, but likely to be something the vast bulk of the music awards crowd endorses.
I am old enough to have been to music awards since Helen Clark was prime minister. She received cheers and appeared on stage, with (mostly) undivided affection from the crowd. Over the years the likes of Chlöe Swarbrick and Jacinda Ardern, before and after their elevation to party leadership, have been largely lauded while in attendance. One notable exception was Homebrew's Tom Scott, who condemned Ardern for not visiting Ihumātao during the occupation – essentially a criticism of a centre left prime minister from the left, asking for a more explicitly leftist position.
Bishop is manifestly a very genuine fan of New Zealand music. He regularly goes to shows, buys t-shirts, advocates for it whenever he can. He attended multiple dates on the final Shihad tour. He is its most prominent and present champion within the National party, perhaps the biggest fan the party has ever had. He will also not be unaware of the general politics of not only musicians, but arts and culture makers and workers more broadly. But he shows up and attempts to present an acceptable face of a party and a broader worldview which is anathema to many fans and almost all makers in the rooms he frequents.
Where culture and politics collide
What likely boiled over in Bishop is the tension which is always present and rarely voiced in these discussions. Music, TV, film, arts and culture in New Zealand receives a significant amount of support from central and local government. It's not enough, and it's not a huge amount compared to some other countries. But it comes from all taxpayers and ratepayers, which naturally includes many people who hold differing political views. Who might believe in toitū te Tiriti (the sentiment), but not the particular ambitions and ties of Toitū te Tiriti (the advocacy organisation) as a microcosm of the broader goal.
So Jackson is right, music has always been political. And Bishop was wrong: neither Walker's performance nor the emotional heft of the arrival of the Toitū te Tiriti flags and supporters in the room was 'a load of crap'. It was the undeniable emotional heart of the evening. But the Aotearoa Music Awards are publicly funded, and streamed on both TVNZ and RNZ. To have something so close to a party political moment within them would rankle those who don't share those politics. To put it another way, imagine Groundswell or Family First, neither of which are as party aligned as Toitū te Tiriti, showing up and the reception they would receive.
It's part of an increasingly explicit and party political alignment of our cultural figures, particularly in these fractious times, where performers can feel contemptuous of the views of those who are elected to represent them. While arts funding does wax and wane according to different governments, the idea that it should exist has endured for decades. When it goes beyond statements to specific party-aligned organisations, the bipartisan support for such funding might become more contested. Not to mention its broad appeal, inside and outside of parliament.