Now, before you roll your eyes and mutter about hyperbole, let’s unpack this with a clear head, a sharp pen, and a few hard facts that cannot be ignored. We’re not here to sling mud for kicks; we’re here to dig into the dirt and see what’s buried.
Fascism, for those who need a quick refresher, isn’t just jackboots and salutes. It’s a political beast that thrives on nationalism, suppression of dissent, scapegoating minorities, and consolidating power for the elite.
Historian Umberto Eco’s 14-point framework for fascism is a handy guide—think cults of tradition, fear of difference, and an obsession with control. Here's how the National Party stacks up when we're talking about the clear and present danger of the indicators of fascism.
1. The Māori Scapegoat and Racial Division (2023 Election Campaign)
During the 2023 election, National’s campaign took a sharp turn into divisive territory. Christopher Luxon’s rhetoric, while carefully polished, leaned heavily on anti-Māori sentiment to score points. Remember his “bottom feeders” comment about the poor, many of whom are disproportionately Māori? Or the push to scrap dual-language road signs, not because they’re confusing (they’re not), but as a dog whistle to those who resent Māori cultural resurgence? This wasn’t just policy disagreement—it was a calculated move to stoke fear of “the other,” a classic fascist tactic. By framing Māori rights as a threat to “Kiwi unity,” National tapped into a playbook that thrives on division, not debate. Their coalition partners, ACT, took it further, openly flirting with white supremacist talking points.
2. Suppressing Dissent: The COVID-19 Response and Beyond
Let’s rewind to 2020-2021, when National was in opposition. Their response to the government’s COVID-19 measures was less about constructive criticism and more about fanning the flames of unrest. Judith Collins and co. gave tacit nods to anti-vax and anti-lockdown protests, which, let’s be honest, weren’t just about “freedom.” These movements, as we saw in Auckland and Wellington, often carried fascist undertones and calls for “purifying” society, and a rejection of scientific consensus. National didn’t outright endorse the tinfoil hat brigade, but they didn’t condemn them either. Instead, they played both sides, amplifying distrust in institutions to weaken Labour’s grip. Eco’s checklist ticks here: distrust in expertise and a fetish for “action over reflection.” Fast-forward to 2025, and National’s silence on rising far-right groups like Action Zealandia speaks volumes.
3. Economic Elitism and Control
Fascism loves a hierarchy, and National’s economic policies often read like a love letter to the 1%. Take their 2023 tax cuts...sold as relief for “hardworking Kiwis” but skewed heavily toward high earners. Meanwhile, funding for social services like healthcare have been put in a choke-hold, leaving the vulnerable to fend for themselves. This isn’t just bad budgeting; it’s a deliberate choice to prioritize wealth over welfare, consolidating power among the elite. Pair that with their push for privatization (think asset sales under Key’s reign, 2008-2016), and you’ve got a system that rewards loyalty to the state’s chosen few while dismissing the rest as “lesser.” Sound familiar? It’s the kind of cronyism that fascist regimes thrive on, dressed up in neoliberal jargon.
4. Historical Echoes: The Legion’s Shadow
Now, let’s get historical for a sec. The National Party was formed in 1936, partly from the ashes of the New Zealand Legion, a radical conservative group that flirted with fascist ideas during the Great Depression. The Legion wasn’t full-blown Mussolini fanboys, but their nationalism, anti-socialist fervor, and calls for “self-sacrifice” had a whiff of authoritarianism. National absorbed some of these elements, including ex-Legionnaires like S.G. Holland, who became leader. While National today isn’t a direct descendant of blackshirts, this origin story shows a willingness to cozy up to far-right fringes when it suits. As conditions worsen—say, economic strife or cultural tension—those roots could sprout again.
5. The Big Data Disturbance (2024-2025)
Here’s a fresh one. National’s coalition government has doubled down on “social investment” models, using AI and big data to decide who gets welfare and who doesn’t. Sounds efficient, right? Except it’s a slippery slope to state overreach. The Ministry of Social Development’s plan to trawl social media to “assess” beneficiaries reeks of a surveillance state...another fascist hallmark. Combine that with moves to loosen oversight on Oranga Tamariki’s child uplifts, disproportionately affecting Māori families, and you’ve got a recipe for systemic control dressed as reform. This isn’t about helping people; it’s about punishing those who don’t fit the “ideal” mold.
Let’s be clear: National isn’t goose-stepping into a dictatorship. But fascism isn’t always blatantly obvious...it creeps in through dog whistles, policy nudges, and strategic silences. Luxon’s National Party has shown it’s happy to play with fire, whether it’s racial division, economic elitism, or tech-driven control. They’re not Action Zealandia, but they don’t need to be. By normalizing far-right talking points and ignoring the warning signs, they’re laying kindling for a system that is much more ugly than what most Kiwis voted for.
