A larger-than-life figure in New Zealand politics, Sir Tim Shadbolt was the longest-serving mayor in the country’s history, leading Invercargill for nearly three decades. Once known for his charisma and radicalism, his final years in office were marred by controversy, health issues and public criticism. He
Sir Tim Shadbolt: From New Zealand political heavyweight to the unwanted mayor
Sir Tim Shadbolt has retired from the public eye and is said to be in ailing health.
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.
Two years ago – September 28, 2022 – the country’s longest-serving mayor chaired his last council meeting and ended his southern reign, which had been littered with controversy and plainly ailing health in its latter days.
Attempts to contact Shadbolt’s long-term partner, the former model and lawyer Asha Dutt, who he has a son with, were unsuccessful despite several attempts by the Herald. It’s understood that Dutt is very protective of the now 77-year-old Shadbolt, who no longer makes any public appearances.
He was admitted to Calvary Hospital in Invercargill last year but Dutt said at the time it was only for “short respite care”.
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.
Born in Auckland on February 19, 1947, Sir Tim Shadbolt made his mark as one of New Zealand’s most unconventional and longest-serving mayors.
Rising to prominence in the 1960s as an activist, Shadbolt’s early political career saw him arrested 33 times during protests, gaining notoriety with his autobiography Bullshit & Jellybeans.
The young radical’s political career took off in 1983 when he was elected Mayor of Waitemata City, famously towing a concrete mixer named “Karl Marx” behind his mayoral car.
However, controversy followed him, and after a government audit into mismanagement, Shadbolt lost his position in 1989 when Waitemata was dissolved into the newly-formed Waitakere City.
Shadbolt’s political resurgence came in 1993 when he won the mayoralty of Invercargill (one of three cities he campaigned the mayoralty for, including Auckland and Dunedin) a role he held with brief interruptions until 2022.
Shadbolt’s unopposed re-election in 2001 cemented his place as a beloved, albeit eccentric, figure, and he would go on to serve nine terms as mayor.
In 2019, Shadbolt made the New Year Honours List as a Knight Companion of the New Zealand Order of Merit.
However, by 2020, cracks in his leadership began to show when an independent report raised concerns about his performance, sparking internal conflicts and a leadership void at the council.
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.
The final years of Shadbolt’s mayoralty were riddled with controversies and a public loss of confidence.
In June 2021, Shadbolt revealed that he had been diagnosed with muscle tension dysphonia.
That same year, a no-confidence motion and allegations of workplace bullying, alongside legal battles over personal expenses, cast a shadow over his final term.
His decision to abstain from a mayoral debate during the 2022 election further fuelled doubts about his ability to lead.
Shadbolt lost the 2022 mayoral election, marking the end of a nearly 30-year era in Invercargill politics and his status as New Zealand’s second longest-serving mayor.
Radio personality Gary McCormick has been a close friend of Shadbolt for decades, and was a key figure during his early years.
McCormick’s first recollection of Shadbolt was of him striding towards a terrace in Wellington, where a demonstration was taking place.
“I must have been 18 at the time ... He had this big Alsatian dog with him, it might have been called Brutus … And he was going out with a woman who was a model in Auckland at the time. They were a very impressive trio, put it that way,” he recalls.
“I just remember that extraordinary charisma, that big smile and sense of purpose ... That charisma would not have gone unnoticed by anyone. I certainly thought he was just amazing.”
McCormick and Shadbolt’s friendship was quick to take off, and their shared adventures extended into rock festivals and political debates.
McCormick organised an ambitious debate tour around New Zealand with Shadbolt and political commentator Tom Scott.
“The first show we did with Tom, Tim and I and was in Dunedin ... and the town hall manager said, ‘This is the biggest crowd we’ve had since the Beatles’. It was 2500 people to see the debate.”
Behind the public persona, Shadbolt evolved over the years, McCormick said.
“He was very extroverted and confident when he was younger … I do remember him telling me … ‘I think I’ll become Prime Minister of New Zealand,’ and I believed him.”
At that moment, Shadbolt’s ambition seemed limitless, driven by an unshakable confidence.
“Sometimes it bogged him down ... He still came up with great ideas. He was always really welcoming to people, friendly, and generous with his time.”
McCormick recalls one such moment during Shadbolt’s time as Mayor of Invercargill, dealing with the collapse of the roof at a local sporting stadium. They were travelling together when Shadbolt took the call.
“Tim must have made a statement about how he had been worried about the roof in advance of the incident, but then he got a real bollocking from some council officer for speaking out.”
During the later years of his tenure as mayor, Shadbolt’s numerous controversies began to take their toll, specifically a defamation case filed by a city councillor relating to a column Shadbolt had written in local paper, The Southland Times.
“The defamation case really affected his health and wellbeing, particularly the worry over the debt he was left with,” McCormick said.
McCormick believes that Shadbolt’s legacy will be defined by the qualities that made him unique.
“He was the real deal, and that’s something people won’t forget ... He was a natural-born leader. As recently as last week, a guy from Gore came up to me in Lytlleton and said, ‘How’s Tim going? You know, he put Invercargill on the map’. And I hear that probably once or twice a week, even all these years later.”
Sir Bob Harvey says Shadbolt was an “extraordinary figure”, capable of captivating audiences with his powerful oratory, humour and boyish enthusiasm.
Harvey recalls their early friendship and the bond they formed during those 1960s protests.
“I remember sitting on the side of the road by the High Court, Tim’s eye was hanging out and we were trying to get his eye back in, and we’d been smacked by batons. That kind of forges a friendship.”
Harvey didn’t hold back when it came to Shadbolt’s often erratic behaviour during his time as mayor of Waitakere.
“That first term, I was in awe of how popular he was. In the second term, I realised just how disastrous he was,” says Harvey, adding that it was a case of public adoration turning to disdain.
Shadbolt’s move south was a role that suited him, said Harvey.
“Invercargill was perfect for him. He cleaned up his act and devoted himself to the city ... But he didn’t spot when to leave the stage, which all good politicians need to know when to leave,” he says.
“It’s very Shakespearean in a way – seeing an old man now losing his voice. He stayed too long.
“His legacy will be remembered by generations. He freed us to have the freedom to walk down the street without being beaten by cops with batons. That’s his legacy.”
Despite his political missteps, Harvey sees Shadbolt as an extraordinary figure.
“Tim was no fool, though the jokes were good. He had the most extraordinary voice, and he believed in the power of words,” said Harvey, likening him to former Prime Minister David Lange.
“I was his confidant. But he started penniless, and I think he probably still is. Even as mayor, he was easily distracted, and others had to do the heavy lifting.
“He’s a legend, and like all legends, his story is half-made up, but that’s what makes it great.”
Darren Ludlow, former deputy mayor and long-serving Invercargill councillor, worked alongside Shadbolt for much of his tenure.
“The early years were an absolute privilege,” Ludlow said.
“He’s an icon, and the longer I worked with him, the more I realised how much people didn’t know.”
Ludlow recalled how Shadbolt was constantly approached by admirers, whether they were local residents or travellers from other parts of the country.
“He couldn’t go anywhere without people coming up to him, wanting to introduce themselves, or take a photo.”
He recalled a trip with Shadbolt to Japan, to visit Invercargill’s sister city Kumagaya, where the absence of constant recognition offered Shadbolt a respite.
“Nobody knew him, and it was like a weight came off his shoulders. We had a pleasant afternoon wandering around Tokyo, but on the way back to the hotel, someone recognised him, and you could just see that weight come back down.”
In his early years as mayor, Shadbolt earned a reputation for being a strong leader, though not in the way many people expected, Ludlow said.
“People thought of him as being a radical, but actually, he was very traditional and played by the old school rules.
“When he made mistakes, he just went, ‘Well, I got that wrong, I’m sorry.’ It was like you wanted to have a go, but then you were in the position of, ‘Damn it, well, he’s just apologised.’”
“I learned the value of the apology and owning mistakes when you made them. That was very early on.”
Shadbolt’s ability to capture attention was crucial during a time of significant transformation for Invercargill.
At the time, Invercargill was going through major changes, including the introduction of the Zero Fees scheme and a major upgrade to the inner city.
“There was a real cultural change going on, and he was the face of it. Occasionally, he was the face of things that weren’t necessarily his, but it didn’t matter – it was all for the betterment of the city.”
Ludlow was quick to acknowledge that not everything Shadbolt did in his early years was without controversy.
“There were mistakes, but there wasn’t anything in those initial years that was horrendously wrong,” he said.
“His penultimate term was when I noticed things beginning to change,” Ludlow said, recalling a specific moment when Shadbolt chose not to support him through a process where the council changed the deputy mayor.
“It just happened. There was no warning, no ‘let’s look at the issues.’ It was just, ‘right, we’re going to change.’ And that was a shift in council culture at that time.”
By Shadbolt’s final term, Ludlow said, “was sadly chaotic”.
Ludlow attributed much of the difficulty to the pressures of the pandemic and Shadbolt’s own personal struggles.
“He seemed to find it harder to focus, but they were really strange times. We were going through a pandemic, there was a lockdown, there was a lot of movement going on.”
Despite the challenges, Ludlow shared one final moment where Shadbolt shone.
“The last positive moment that I hold on to was when council was talking about introducing mana whenua seats. Tim spoke like the old Tim did, with passion. He very much supported it, and you’ve got to put that in the context of him being on that call, being at Bastion Point. The relationship with Māori was something that was important to him.”
On witnessing Shadbolt’s decline, Ludlow said it was a personal challenge.
“We still had some very personal conversations. I know that we had those conversations, and I appreciated that, even though probably an hour later we’d be in a meeting, and I’d want to throttle him – metaphorically,” he said.
“There’s still a great deal of affection for Tim. There are always people who were not his fans, but when you reach that level of recognition, it becomes less grey area – people are more black and white about you.”
While some residents may have shifted their opinions during Shadbolt’s final terms, Ludlow said he believes many will focus on his achievements during his prime.
“We’re past that now. It feels like people just focus on the heydays.”
Sign up to The Daily H, a free newsletter curated by our editors and delivered straight to your inbox every weekday.
