Day 8: A look inside the anti-mandate protest at Parliament. Video / George Heard / Mark Mitchell
OPINION:
From the beginning the Prime Minister has preached kindness.
It's her mantra, urging us all to respect each other. It's a plea she repeated again on Monday afternoon in front of a significantly reduced press gallery audience because of fears one of us may have contracted Omicron.
The seats usually occupied by the familiar and favoured masked faces to Jacinda Ardern were empty - which for the first time in yonks gave me a free run, even getting the first question and some follow-ups.
Hitting my stride, I asked her about kindness and how kind it was for her close buddy and Parliament's Speaker Trevor Mallard to turn on the sprinklers on the parliamentary lawn given it was occupied by families, including children.
There's one thing Ardern's adept at doing and that's avoiding a question by moving on to someone who deigns to put their hand up to give her a steer. But of course, she wasn't about to come close to criticising Mallard anyway, simply saying he's in charge of Parliament's health, safety and security, just as the police are in charge of keeping law and order.
She misses the point because Mallard and the police appear to be on opposite sides, with the police saying the tactics adopted by the Speaker (hiring speakers to blare out bad music and dousing the protesters during a Wellington water shortage) wasn't something they would have done.
The water shortage at least was rectified just as the sprinklers went on, meaning protesters were being rained on from below and above, and the pristine front lawn was turned into a quagmire.
Protesters brave wet conditions during the protest and occupation at Parliament in Wellington on 13 February. Photo / Mark Mitchell
If you talk to protesters, the only thing Mallard - who it seems enjoys provoking them - has done is to strengthen their resolve to stay there. That's why the police are frustrated, and talking to those on the front line, there's no doubt about that.
Watching the carry-on from the safety of the Beehive, the Prime Minister clearly believes she's on firm ground painting the protesters as a bunch of anti-vax nutters. I don't know who she's had down on the mushy ground talking to them, but if they were worth their salt they would have told her a significant group of protesters are anti-mandate, like the teacher of 30 years from the Bay of Plenty who's lost his job, along with his wife.
With more than 94 per cent of our population double jabbed, and all the promises Ardern made of what would happen when we hit 90, of course people are frustrated. Those at Parliament are also frustrated no-one will talk to them.
Parliament's Speaker Trevor Mallard. Photo / Mark Mitchell
And talking to them, if you are a member of the press gallery, is inadvisable in Mallard's book. He'd prefer reporters on his first-floor balcony, looking down at what he clearly sees as the rabble. It simply creates a them and us narrative out on the lawn.
A lack of compliance with Mallard's advice earns a rebuke, not from him personally but relayed through gallery officers, also with a threat there could be consequences. The day a Speaker dictates to the media on how a story can be told would be a dark day for democracy.
It fits with the current Beehive though: a government by remote control, refusing to engage with those on the ground who don't fit their mould and that's most certainly unwise if not unkind.
