A New Kind of Zeal

by Michelle Warren

CHAPTER SIX: Lawful Use of Force

  Connor sat in Select Committee Room Three, in Parliament House. Around him, to either side, were four of his Party, and across the large desk from him sat Clarkson and his representatives. To the left of Clarkson was one Member from the Clean Green Party, and to Connor’s left was a Member of the Christian Conservative Party. Between them sat a Member from the Maori Party. And, at the other end of the desk, sat Police Commissioner Derek Peters, and a Ms Kiri Rakena – she was at the computer carrying all the public submissions for the matter at hand.

  Connor glanced briefly up at the wooden carvings of the Maori ancestors, hanging around them on the walls. Then he brought his mind quickly back to task.

  “As Chairperson for the Law and Order Select Committee,” he said, “I want to start by thanking you for your attendance.”

  Clarkson was grimacing – Connor ignored him.

  “We are here to debate The National Lawful Use of Force Bill and The Extension of Maximum Sentences Bill.”

  Alongside him, the Minister of Law and Order, the Honourable Chin Ho, stood.

  “I am presenting these bills to the House,” she said, with slightly clipped English, “in light of growing tensions in New Zealand. It is vital we maintain control, and I consider these law changes essential for sustaining peace in our land throughout the challenges ahead.”

  “What challenges are you talking about?” Kiri Rakena asked, from the computer. “The public haven’t been informed of challenges…”

  “We’ve been warning the public of the implication of climate changes for years!” Tracy Harrison said, from the Clean Green Party.

  “Sure, the temperature’s rising,” Rakena said, lifting her brown hands to animate her words. “It’s getting hot! We’re having more droughts. Some farms have packed it in. But most of these submissions are asking what the Government is doing to help.”

  “The Government is taking stock of the situation…” Connor began, bristling at the words.

  “By trying to control the public,” Rakena said.

  “Exactly!” Clarkson said. “That’s the Government the public voted in!”

  Connor glared at Clarkson, whose face looked annoyingly bright, (grabbing the chance for more votes!), and turned back to Rakena.

  “The New Conservative Party supports individual efforts…”

  “…by not lifting a hand to help,” Rakena said. “A lot of people have written here that they are finding ways to help themselves: growing food in their own sections, sharing with their neighbours…”

  “This is precisely the threat I am talking about!” Connor said, rising to his feet and jabbing a finger at Rakena, staring at Clarkson. “People are growing their own food and sharing! A few oranges here, a few apples there, sure! But what if this becomes the economy of the future? No declarations, no tax: no government!”

  Clarkson rose to his feet in front of him, his eyes steadfast on Connor.

  “Sit down, Right Honourable Prime Minister,” he said. “You are the Chairperson of this debate, not the Dictator of it.”

  Fury filled Connor at the words – his temples throbbed, staring at Clarkson’s gaze. How dare he? Yet he heard truth in Clarkson’s words, took a deep breath, and sat down – gesturing to his right, to the Minister of Law and Order.

  Chin Ho stood again.

  “New Zealand faces new threats,” she began. “There is rising dissatisfaction with the current situation. More people are hungry. More people are stealing. Inflation is rising. Violent crime has increased. Transport is limited, jobs are out of reach. An entire redefining of our society might be ahead of us: the risk of civil unrest is high.”

  The Maori MP stood, Rawiri Heka.

  “Perhaps a redefining of our society is what is required.”

  Connor looked at him: at his greying hair and the aged lines in his warm brown face.

  “Any redefining of our society must be mediated through a democratically voted-in Parliament,” Connor said. “That is why we are here! That is why we have been given the luxury of debating the issues. We have freedom right here, now, to determine our own fates.

  “But what happens if neighbourhoods develop their own food supply, their own economies, their own job structures – their own leadership? Destabilization! Local economy, local law, local politics – tribal wars. Do we really want to return to the Dark Ages?

  “We must retain central leadership. We must retain order, and national cohesion, or we will be lost.”

  There was silence. With satisfaction, Connor saw he had gotten through. Then Richard Holm, of the Christian Conservative Party, stood.

  “But what is the purpose of central leadership?”

  Connor frowned at him: Holm was usually a reliable supporter of the Conservative Party.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What is your goal?”

  Now Connor rose happily to his feet.

  “What is our goal?” he said, gesturing to his other Party Members. “Our goal is a happy, safe, independent, productive New Zealand.”

  “That’s our goal too,” Clarkson said.

  “And ours,” Harrison said, of the Clean Green Party.

  “The devil is in the detail,” Holm said, and Connor sent him a warning glance.

  Rakena shifted on her seat, as if uncomfortable, and then Commissioner Derek Peters rose to his feet.

  “I represent the Police at this Committee,” he began, “and I can tell you this: crime is definitely on the increase in New Zealand. There were twelve thousand three hundred and four cases of serious violent crime last month alone: that represents an increase of three hundred percent compared with 2025, and six hundred percent compared with 2020. Theft also has risen dramatically: the police do not have the resources, as things stand, to deal now with theft – we are struggling to fully respond to all cases of violent crime. There have also been a number of political demonstrations that might have deteriorated into civil unrest.

  “The Police support both bills presented today. In our view, the Police need the authority to implement increased force if it should be required.”

  Connor nodded at him, and looked around the faces at the table. Clarkson was silent – he seemed convinced by Constable Peters. Maori MP Heka also was silent. Harrison, of the Greens, was slowly nodding.

  The only two looking uncomfortable were Holm, of the Christian Conservative Party, and Rakena, representing the public.

  “Just what kind of increased force are we talking about?” Holm asked.

  Peters’ eyes lingered on him, and then returned to Connor.

  “Whatever force is required.”

  “Meaning?” Rakena asked.

  Peters shifted on his feet. He was a respectable looking man, Connor thought: perhaps early forties, with tidy short brown hair – his police uniform pressed, and his eyes firm but also somehow kind.

  He looked at Rakena, and bowed his head to her.

  “Only what is required, Madam, and no more. At present, the police are able to use force to contain danger: to prevent greater harm. This bill only seeks to expand this application: the force must be clearly used to prevent greater harm to our communities, nothing less.”

  Connor saw, in Rakena’s face: the Constable had won her trust.

  “…and so, Mr Speaker,” Connor said, standing at his seat in the House of Representatives, “I would like to thank the Law and Order Committee for considering the bills, and attending hearings, and I now move that the National Lawful Use of Force Bill, and the Extension of Maximum Sentences Bill, be moved a third time. I commend the bills to the House.”

  “This debate has concluded,” the Speaker said. “I’ll ask the Clerk for a Party Vote.”

  The Clerk now stood, in front of the Speaker.

  “Ninety-four votes in favour,” she said. “Twenty-six votes opposed.”

  “The motion is agreed to,” said the Speaker.

  Connor nodded his head, and beat his fist in victory. Another
step! Another step toward securing the safety of New Zealand. Soon they would establish stability! Soon he would safeguard their freedom.