New Zealand First leader Winston Peters talks to media the day after the 2017 election at the Duke of Marlborough in Russell, Bay of Islands. Photo / Nick Reed
Once more we return to the beautiful Bay of Islands where Winston Peters will balance the country’s future in his hands in the manner of a Wild West poker player - he’ll hold his cards close andlikely have at least one ace up his sleeve.
Pray pity for your faithful correspondent as I seek to again let the country know what is on Peters’ mind after the polls close.
This is not his first rodeo - but neither is it mine. It will be the third election night I have spent at Russell’s Duke of Marlborough for the New Zealand First election party.
Those previous occasions - 2017 and 2020 - provide some insight into what to expect this Saturday.
And so this is what could happen as the nation waits on tenterhooks to see what shape our Government will take.
From about 3pm, those who do the heavy lifting for NZ First have usually start putting up bunting at the Duke and taping black and white balloons across the function area on the deck outside. At this stage, there is no sign of Peters.
NZ First’s supporters usually start to drift in from about 5pm. It’s a thin smattering of people that swells as it gets closer to the polls closing. At this stage, there is still no sign of Peters.
Preliminary results will start being broadcast from 7pm with televisions around the party zone carrying a variety of different media outlets.
At this stage, there is definitely no sign of Peters. With the results uncertain, he will bunker himself in one of the Duke’s comfortable suites with a select group of advisors and wait.
Media gathered outside will scan the upper floor, necks craned upwards in search of a sign from above.
Expect to see Peters emerge after 9.30pm and definitely before 10pm, when the last ferry leaves the Russell Wharf to return many of his supporters to Paihia across the bay. Peters knows he needs to acknowledge those who turned up to show support.
What happens next depends on how the vote falls. In the case that NZ First vaults the 5 per cent hurdle, it will again be in the “kingmaker” position. That lines this Saturday up with 2017, when NZ First came in with 11 seats (8.66 per cent of the vote). Current polls suggest that this will be the case.
In that case, expect to hear a triumphant Peters in the manner of 2017, when he said: “We always knew that tonight, despite all the predictions, all roads would lead to Russell.”
If the polls are wrong, and NZ First falls flat as it did in 2020, the party may again be consigned to political oblivion (predictions it is terminal should be approached with greater caution than they have on previous occasions).
On that occasion, Peters was gracious in defeat, endorsing the power of democracy and those who had captured its mercurial flow. On NZ First, he said: “As for the next challenge, we’ll all have to wait and see.”
No matter the outcome, expect “we’ll all have wait and see”, even though polls show it likely National will need NZ First and Act to form a government.
There will be no answers on Saturday night. If all roads lead to Russell, he will not expect to be the one taking the first steps.
For Peters, time is his friend. The longer it takes, the greater pressure on the major parties to strike a deal. In 1996, the country waited two months. Last time he was in this position it took four weeks (11 days after the special votes were counted).
The most predictable pathways on Saturday night for Peters are these: electoral success will see him at the bar (2017) while failure will lead him back upstairs or off into the night (2020).
It means the question looming at the beginning of the night will remain at its end - what will Winston do next?
Not long after the sun rises - and possibly shortly after Peters has gone to bed (2017) - media will start gathering outside the Duke. Our mission will be to get some sort of indication as to his plans.
Again we have two pathways. In 2017, after what must have been about four hours’ sleep, Peters emerged dapper and sparky to joust with media, threatening at one stage to throw gallery journalist Lloyd Burr into the tide.
Media will fire a barrage of questions and Peters will respond with something like: “Listen sunshine, I’m not going to have a bunch of Philadelphia lawyers trying to dictate to me what the voters of this country are saying.” There will be no insight at all into his plans.
And then there is failure. Media will still gather but it will likely be a pointless exercise. Peters will have no desire to autopsy electoral defeat in public and be quizzed on it by journalists.
It is likely such a task will be left for his loyal lieutenant Shane Jones, as it was in 2020, just hours after the former Cabinet minister was captured in the function area among the wreckage of the party of the night before, as deflated as the black and white balloons around him.
Jones stepped in front of the pack about 10am and spoke of the “red tsunami” that had washed away the right (and a tsunami of red wine with which he had tried to wash himself away). As he dodged questions on NZ First’s future, journalists succumbed to a sneaking feeling Peters was sneaking out the back while they were distracted out the front.
There followed a back-and-forth mad scramble to find the NZ First leader, only to find he hadn’t done so but was taking his own sweet time getting ready to return home to Whananaki.
This Sunday, here we go again, with one terrible complication. At 8am - the time Peters held a press conference on the Russell promenade after NZ First’s 2017 success - the All Blacks play Ireland in what could be their final match of the Rugby World Cup.
In the face of defeat, it would be the perfect time for the wily (don’t dare say “old”) fox to slip away.
If riding high on victory, he will want to speak and say little. He will emerge to do so when it suits and we will wait at his leisure. A game few may try watching the game on their phones. It will be easy to imagine Peters relishing the anguish of a press pack missing the game in the hope he will emerge.
Behind the Duke, the RSA will be opening for the game from 7.30am. In a perfect world, we would call a truce for 80 minutes (plus halftime) and watch the game together.
In all the oddities MMP has ever produced, it would be the briefest and strangest coalition ever. And for the short time it exists - outcome dependent, of course - it could also be the most fulfilling.