Josh Masters was sentenced on methamphetamine charges in 2012. Photo / Sarah Ivey
Josh Masters was sentenced on methamphetamine charges in 2012. Photo / Sarah Ivey
OPINION:
The man getting out of the truck instantly recognised the man on the motorcycle at the Harley Davidson shop; they were old friends. He drew a pistol and shot him.
It was a brazen and very personal shooting, and only a jammed gun meant it didn't bring to aclose the man responsible for a dramatic reformation of New Zealand's gang scene. And this is the backdrop to the current gang violence between the Tribesmen and the Killer Beez.
That shooting was in 2019, but the story begins earlier. Perhaps as early as 1990 when a small article in the New Zealand Herald reported that groups of youths in South Auckland were wearing "colours" and dressing like "violent American street gangs". Until that point, gangs had worn back patches and so unfamiliar were these groups that the paper incorrectly referred to them as Crypts rather than Crips.
But driven by wider youth trends such as gangster rap and hip hop, this new style of gang began to grow, and by the early 2000s they were everywhere. This was during a period that the traditional patched gangs were not doing well. The membership had aged and they no longer seemed relevant to rebellious young men. The trends and fashions had changed and consequently, the old groups were failing to attract new members.
One of those gangs, the Tribesmen, had the answer. They would establish an LA-style street gang as a support group, which would act as a feeder of membership. Around 2003, that's what they did and the Killer Beez were formed under the leadership of Josh Masters.
Masters was a charismatic, imposing man and a great fighter; a natural leader. He established a record label and offered young men the promise of brotherhood, reputation, and perhaps even fame. One of those was Okusitino Tae, who years later would shoot Masters and was only foiled in killing him by a jammed gun.
Okusitino Tae. Photo / Doug Sherring
Like numerous Killer Beez who had shown form, Tae had graduated to become a member of the Tribesmen, but by the time of the shooting the Killer Beez were no longer happy to play second fiddle to the group that had established them. Tae was attacking not only his former mate, but also the gang that had started him out.
Before being shot, Masters had spent a decade in prison for methamphetamine dealing. His influence was significant behind bars, and the Department of Corrections moved him around to try to negate his control. But it's in the prisons that we see his broader impact. The growth of the Killer Beez is evident there.
Prison data show that the Tribesmen have 99 gang members and associates in prison while the Killer Beez have 244. For context, only the Mongrel Mob and the Black Power, New Zealand's largest gangs, have more members in prison. The Killer Beez had become a true force and were no longer the young brother to the Tribesmen.
When Masters emerged from prison, the Killer Beez adopted the widespread use of back patches, signalling conclusively their move into the world of the established 'adult' gangs. Conflict was perhaps inevitable.
Josh Masters grew the Killer Beez from inside prison. Photo / Sarah Ivey
And so when Tae came across Masters at a Harley Davidson shop, he pulled out a pistol and shot him off his bike. The bullet went into his spine and Masters could not get away. Tae stood over the prone Masters and again pulled the trigger. Click.
There appear to be fewer jammed guns today. A number of Auckland streets have been shot up as the war between the groups has erupted.
What sparked this outbreak is unclear, but the tit-for-tat escalation is all too familiar. They can begin with relatively minor incidents, that then require utu by the other side. As the harm increases, so does the level of retaliation. Things can spiral quickly out of control.
Clearly, this is unsettling for the public, but it's also tough on the combatants and their families. Members of both groups will be looking over their shoulders in fear of being attacked.
Years back, during a gang war in Invercargill, a gang president said, "I wouldn't mind getting on my bike and riding around like it used to be, [but you can't because] you're thinking about it [the war and getting attacked] all the time - who knows where it will end".
I raise the reality felt by warring gang members not to garner sympathy - clearly, none of that exists - but to highlight a component of how these wars calm down.
Killer Beez gang members pass through the checkpoint at Ramarama near where the gang is having their AGM. Photo / Brett Phibbs
In an environment of intense pressure brought about by war, an end to escalation will not come from within the gangs themselves. The well-proven solution is acute and relentless police attention, which provides an excuse for both sides to pull their heads in without losing mana.
And make no mistake, this war will settle down and things will return to normal, but it won't be fast enough to escape the wrath of the public via political intervention. I worry about kneejerk political reactions to these events, because the results of them in the past have been poor and, more than that, I fear what certain proposals will mean for state power and universal rights.
I appreciate that in a climate of public fear and political opportunism, voices such as mine will be ignored - in fact, they will be scorned. I'm also aware that any legislation that is passed will last far longer than the conflict between the Tribesmen and the Killer Beez.
•Dr Jarrod Gilbert is a sociologist at the University of Canterbury and the Director of Independent Research Solutions. He is the author of Patched: the history of gangs in New Zealand.
