• Events
  • E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent

E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent

Part of E oho! Waitangi series

Video | 1 hour 4 mins
Event recorded on Thursday 14 April 2022

From scary fairies to Ihumātao solidarity and Kiwi QAnon anti-vaxxers: Dylan Owen shares images and stories from his years as a protest photographer.

  • Transcript — E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent — Part 1

    Speakers

    Dylan Owen, Tanja Schubert-McArthur

    Introduction

    Dylan Owen: Kia ora, tēnā koutou katoa, ahiahi mārie. Ko Dylan Owen tōku ingoa.

    Good afternoon. I'm Dylan Owen, and I work for the National Library Te Puna Mātauranga o Aotearoa in Services to Schools. Separate from my role here, as Tanja indicated, I've also been documenting aspects of civic life in Aotearoa and New Zealand, including public protest.

    Background

    And so today, I want to highlight public protest in Whanganui-a-Tara using photographs I've taken over the last 20 or so years, some of which are held in the Alexander Turnbull Library. I've selected these primarily to illustrate some of our major protests and their origins, types of public protest, and how protest communicates its messages of resistance or advocacy.

    First, a few things to note. The reflections and thoughts in this presentation are my own and don't necessarily represent the views of the National Library. Having said that, I should acknowledge that there are many other perspectives to the events and actions I'm describing today.

    As well, photography isn't the only way we gather and retain information about social action. For example, there are physical items like badges and posters and banners. But more importantly, there are the stories of the individuals involved in protest.

    As a photographer recording public protest is a visually intense and dynamic experience. But public protest isn't the only way to progress social change. The real mahi often lies behind the scenes in the planning, the letters, petitions, meetings, legal challenges, lobbying, networking, and of course, since the late 1990s, the use of online activism and social media tools.

    For the demonstrators, protest is also a visual and vocal civic action, one full of passion. So it's no surprise that some of the banners and placards in these images are confronting, blunt, graphic, and a little sweary. But of course, that's their point.

    I also must acknowledge those who have paved the way in documenting dissent in Aotearoa, particularly over the last 60 or so years, people like Ans Westra, John Miller, Bruce Connew, Mark Adams, and Gil Hanly, to name a few.

    Ngā mihi nui camera whānau and also ngā mihi aroha to the many activists and protesters I've met and photographed. Their advocacy, dissent, and convictions are vital for a progressive, inclusive, and, of course, healthy democracy.

    What is public protest?

    A quick look at public protest. Here's my definition. Protest is a public declaration of opinion, frequently dissent. It can be one person. And here is mechanic Sid Hanzlik N in a burqa protesting against the family court over access to his children in 2016. Or it can be many. Here, animal liberation marches are proceeding down Willis Street in November 2020. Protest is usually accompanied with objects, sound, speeches, clothing, and gestures, all designed to reinforce, amplify, and symbolise the views of the protesters.

    Who can protest?

    Who can protest? Anyone can protest, from schoolchildren-- here's a photograph of akonga or primary school children-- at the 2019 school strike for climate protest. And this literally is a supergran. She was part of a group that had come up from Nelson to Wellington to protest at the 2018 oil production conference.

    Now, the right to protest in New Zealand is enshrined in the law under three subsections of the Bill of Rights-- subsections 14, 16, and 17. And they state that there is a right to meet and organise with others, the right to gather and protest with others, and the right to speak out and say what you think with others, although we know, of course, there are some limits to that. And as the sign says here, protest is not illegal and certainly not a crime.

    Emissions Tax Protest

    I first began taking photographs of protests I think around 2003, when John Mohi, who was then National Library's director of Māori, suggested I pop over to Parliament and use the new Services to Schools camera. One of the first was the notorious fart tax protest. This saw farmers invading Parliament with tractors and cows in an effort to stop a proposed world-first tax on methane-emitting livestock.

    That tractor on the left there is the notorious Myrtle, which MP Shane Ardern drove up the steps of Parliament. Notice the placard on the back of that tractor and note the similarities to last year's howl of protest sign-- not my photo, by the way. Politicians may change, but our attitudes towards them often don't. I'll leave you to work out what's more disturbing-- the use of the apostrophe in 'Kiwis' or Jacinda’s communism.

    What isn't widely known is that there were also cows at that protest, both real and unreal. The two cows on the left belonged to MP Lockwood Smith. He also led them up Parliament steps, where one cow did a protest on its own, to the amusement of the farmers that were there. Parliamentary staff were not so happy.

    The placard on the right there refers to Pete Hodgson, then Energy and Environment Minister. The Labour government eventually backed down on this proposed livestock tax, which was a pity, because today, there is still no regulation of agricultural emissions in New Zealand, just a target of 10% reduction in biological methane emissions by 2030 and a further 2050 target.

    Other protests that year include the anti-Iraq war demonstrations against the US-led invasion of Iraq. Note the banner's witty pun there on Skippy, the then-US President Bush, and John Howard, who was the Australian Prime Minister at the time. Australia made a substantial military contribution to that war, but Helen Clarke`'s Labour government did not.

    This protest, again in 2003, was against the lifting of the moratorium on the commercial release of genetically engineered organisms. It was led, in part, by MAdGE, or Mothers Against Genetic Engineering. MAdGE also staged a protest in Parliament's debating chamber the same year by stripping down to their bras. They were immediately evicted and banned from Parliament for two years.

    Equipment

    Now, if some of these early photographs look a bit low res, that's because I was using the latest technology-- this, a Sony Mavica digital camera first launched back in January 2002. I don't know if you can see clearly, but this camera clocked in at a whopping 2 megapixels, which was certainly inferior to the resolution of existing analogue cameras at the time. However, it represented a profound shift in technology and immediacy, and this has led to today's ubiquitous use of smartphones to film and photograph events important to our lives.

    As you can see in this advertisement of the time, the success of this early digital camera was its ability to let you pop in a floppy disk, or memory stick, take pictures, and then instantly review them. At the time, that floppy disk could only hold four JPEGs.

    Anti-National Front Protests

    So what have been some of the prominent Pōneke protests over the last 20 or so years? First, 2003 to 2010. In 2004, '06, and then again in 2008 and '09, there were protests against the New Zealand National Front at Parliament by anti-fascists or, as Inspector Paul Berry of the Wellington police called them at the time, "a radical anarchist punk rocker-type group." These protests occurred in October, when the National Front would hold their self-declared pro-white, anti-immigrant, flag day rally. And here, you can see one of their flags in the background just to the left.

    At times, these were pretty intense confrontations. The National Front would come in from the Hutt by train or car, unfurl their flags at Parliament, and then beat a retreat back to the train station, chased by the Multicultural Aotearoa members and Fairies Against Fascism. On this flag day in 2004, the National Front was surrounded by protesters outside the law school. I remember one protester smashing a wing mirror on the National Front car, at which the owner jumped up onto the bonnet, pulled a knife, and leapt towards us. He was quickly taken down by the police, one of three NF members arrested that day.

    On the left in this 2004 protest is an Anarcho-Fairy, or Scary Fairy, as they are sometimes referred to. In the middle, the Fairies Against Fascism are putting on a dance for the National Front. And at the extreme right, naturally, are members of the National Front. What you can't hear are the counter-protesters chanting, make like your leader and shoot yourself, a reference to Hitler's suicide.

    And this is what white supremacy looked like in 2009. That person in the middle with the cam jacket over his shoulder is the far-right political activist Kyle Chapman, former director of the New Zealand National Front. But when I took this photograph, he had just founded the Right-Wing Resistance, a white supremacist, neo-Nazi group.

    These face-offs ended after 2009, when the anti-fascist group MCA stopped their counter-protests because the confrontations were giving the far right too much local and national publicity. White supremacy groups are still very much alive in New Zealand but operating mainly online.

    Thankfully, there are also a number of anti-fascist activists, researchers, and groups, like Tamaki Anti-Fascist Action and the Paparoa Collective. These groups provide a citizen base watching brief over current New Zealand far-right groups.

    Hīkoi

    Specific to Aotearoa and New Zealand protests is the hīkoi, which today generally refers to a protest march, often led by Māori, that can take days or weeks to complete. Of course, our most famous hīkoi last century was the 1975 "not one more acre" of Māori land, led by Whina Cooper.

    But there were also two prominent hīkoi in the first decade of this century. In April 2004, a hīkoi, again from Northland, arrived in Pōneke to protest against proposed legislation that would see New Zealand's foreshore ownership vested with the Crown. Such was the anger for Māoridom that it led to the creation of the Māori Party. Here's some photographs of the hīkoi when it arrived at Parliament.

    On the left, the hīkoi moves up Molesworth Street, supported by one of the seven Ratana brass bands. And on the right, the hīkoi arrives at Parliament gates. This photograph on the left here shows relatives of Dame Whina Cooper holding a framed copy of that famous photograph. Hinerangi Puru, daughter of Whina Cooper, is also there, just behind the portrait, wearing the red beret and glasses.

    Seven years later and the Foreshore and Seabed Act, passed in 2004, was repealed in 2011. However, this legislation now required Māori to prove customary title to the foreshore and seabed in their rohe It was a bitter disappointment to many Iwi and initiated this second hīkoi.

    On the left here, you can see the hīkoi moving up Molesworth Street. On the right, a wero takes place inside Parliament grounds. Two rākau experts performing with a taiaha on the right and a tewhatewha on the left. And note long-time activist Hone Harawira in the background to the right.

    Here, the hīkoi filing into Parliament grounds. And note the tīpari, or headbands, of rākau, in this case, kōwhai, kawakawa, and I think I can see some rosemary there, as well. In this image, the circlets of kawakawa leaves on the two kuiain the foreground are called parekawakawa, and are a symbol of mourning, often seen at tangihanga.

    Another hīkoi that decade followed the 2007 police anti-terror raids, when armed police raided properties in the Tūhoe rohe, as well as houses in some of our major cities. November that year, Tūhoe Iwi headed towards Wellington to express their riri or anger at the raids and also historic confiscations of Tūhoe whenua.

    This was one protest where I felt a real sense of injustice by protesters. Their mana had been trampled over. And as activist Tame Iti said at the time, we've had 200 years of psychological abuse by the state and the Crown. And this was just the next chapter.

    In 2014, Police Commissioner Mike Bush formally apologised to Ngāi Tūhoe for the police actions during the raids. And here the, Tūhoe hīkoi are marching down Lambton Quay. And note that finely carved taiaha on the left there. And this was a Tūhoe haka performed at the north end of Lambton Quay. The use of rākau weapons-- haka, waiata and, of course, pūkana are common in Māori protests. It's a way to express defiance, hara, injustice, while adding individual, and especially collective, cultural emphasis to tell tautohetoheor protest.

    Occupy Movement

    Significant protests over the last decade in Pōneke were largely a product of international events and global unrest. The Occupy Movement initially began in New York in September 2011 as a protest against corporate greed. In Pōneke, the movement camped out at Civic Square from October 2011 to February 2012, and it consisted of around 30 tents and a fluctuating population of around 60 people.

    As a global protest movement, it was criticised for not having clear demands or agenda to force social change. But it has been credited with showcasing income inequality and bringing that into the public arena. It also represented a training ground for new generations of social and political activists. And to the left here, you can see the Occupy camp and also their famous catchphrase just through the fence. And this photograph was taken at an Occupy protest which was held down on the waterfront in 2011.

    Anti-TPPA Protest

    The Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement, or TPPA-- I might shorten it to just TPA-- was a proposed Pacific Rim regional trade agreement involving 12 countries, including New Zealand, Australia, and the United States. These ongoing trade negotiations resulted in one of our longest-running protests, which was against New Zealand signing the agreement. There were demonstrations and marches throughout the motu from 2014 right up to early 2018.

    In Wellington alone, there were three TPPA protests in 2016. And the demonstrations ended when President Trump abandoned the TPPA trade deal. This photograph here was an anti-TPPA protest that was making its way down Wakefield Street towards Parliament.

    Here's an example of some of the colourful TPPA banners and placards at a Midland Park protest. Those wonderful knitted and crocheted banners in the background there, they came from the Whanganui chapter of the TPPA. This is anti-TPPA protesters at Parliament. The reason the protester there is cracking up is because she'd just seen me burst out laughing at her very subtly worded placard.

    And here's another anti-TPPA protest at Parliament. You know it's going to be an interesting protest-- visually, anyway-- for photographers when someone makes it up the Seddon statue to plant the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. And this TPPA protest was below Parliament, which saw a crowd listening to speakers around the cenotaph.

    At this 2015 TPPA demonstration, extra police were called in to help security as protesters raced across the forecourt to occupy Parliament steps. This is Shane Hayes on the steps that day dressed not as Uncle Sam but as Uncle Scam. He was busy auctioning lipstick at inflated prices. Protesters had claimed that pharmaceuticals and cosmetics would significantly increase in cost if New Zealand signed the trade agreement.

    Now, part of the opposition to the trade deal was the secrecy surrounding negotiations, which protesters claimed was a breach of the treaty obligation to actively engage with Māori. Here, a large group of protesters fighting against the trade agreement aimed to get into the MFAT trade headquarters on Lambton Quay and then seize the TPPA text. However, police created two human barricades, preventing the demonstrators from entering. After their attempts were unsuccessful, a group sat on the road, blocking traffic on Lambton Quay. 26 protesters were arrested.

    Other types of protest

    Now, a little diversion, mid-decade. Public protest is not just marching down a street or hurling yourself at police lines. There are other types of civic actions social and political activists use to make their point. Here's some examples from the last 20 or so years.

    Sit in

    Sit-in-- to occupy a place as a form of protest. This view of Pureora Forest is the site of the world's first treetop sit-in protest led by Native Forest Action Council activists. In September 1978, in order to stop the logging of the virgin Pureora Forest, protesters camped out on makeshift platforms in the large podocarp trees, including these rimu in the background there. The protest gained national attention, and logging finally ceased in 1982.

    This more recent treetop protest in Avondale last year was organised by Mana Rākau in order to save a section of trees on Canal Street-- sorry, Canal Road. Eight people were arrested trying to stop the selling of this urban forest. And that consisted of dozens of mature native trees, including tōtara, kahikatea, karaka, and pūriri.

    Blockade

    Blockade-- to seal off a place to prevent people from entering or leaving. In 2017, peace activists gathered at Wellington's Westpac Stadium to blockade the annual New Zealand Defense Industry Association Expo. This expo was an annual meeting of delegates from some of the world's largest weapon and arms manufacturers.

    Here, Reverend Andy Hickman, on the extreme left there, and members of the Peace Action Wellington are blockading one of the entrances, part of a successful protest tactic called NVDA, or Nonviolent Direct Action. The controversial military expo was finally scrapped by organisers after years of non-violent disruption by peace activists.

    Counterprotest

    Counterprotest-- a protest staged to oppose another protest. This counter-protest took place outside a religious rally demanding that the Speaker of the House, Trevor Mallard, reinstate references to Jesus Christ in parliamentary prayers. These gentlemen outside were offering some alternatives to Christianity, including Nordic mythology, Satanism, Jedi-ism, and the online religion known as the Church of the Latter-Day Dude.

    And why is that protester in the middle there wearing a pirates outfit? If you look at the weird monster on his placard, well, that's a depiction of FSM, or Flying Spaghetti Monster, which is a deity in a religion called Pastafarianism. This movement promotes itself as a real legitimate religion as much as any other. Pastafarianism tenets include a creation myth that the Flying Spaghetti Monster created the universe but after only drinking heavily. And one of its tenets is that pirates are revered as the original Pastafarianism. So now you know.

    Flotilla

    Protests at sea-- in 2015, about 60 protesters took to kayaks, surfboards, waka, and paddleboards to protest against the ongoing offshore oil and gas exploration around the motu.

    Silent protest

    Silent protest-- a protest where participants stay quiet to demonstrate disapproval. Here, Wellington readers and authors attend a silent protest outside Unity Bookshop against the interim banning of a young adult novel, coming of age novel, Into the River by Ted Dawe. Protests were held, also, in Auckland and Dunedin.

    A Family First complaint led to the interim banning of this award-winning novel. Bob McCroskie, director of Family First, had counted up the number of times offensive words had appeared in the book. And he told Radio New Zealand, it's a book that's got the C word nine times, the F word 17 times, and S-H-I-T 16 times.

    The person on the right, Maureen here, didn't want her face in the photo. So I got her to angle her sign up to hide the face. And from there, I think that Elizabeth Knox was just standing behind Maureen at this demonstration.

    This poignant silent protest by the Auckland based collective Oceania Interrupted was held at Waitangi Park in 2015. Their aim was, and is, to raise awareness for West Papua independence from Indonesia. The Pacific Island and Māori Wāhine here are wearing black pareo, or a kind of sarong. And their cotton gags are printed with the morning star flag. That's the West Papua independence flag.

    And this is the Cube of Truth organised by Anonymous for the Voiceless. And it works like this. A team of silent AV supporters wearing Anonymous masks forms a square while their laptops display graphic footage of animal exploitation. Meanwhile, the public have their questions answered by a circulating team. It certainly appeared effective when I photographed this cube in Cuba Street. There was a lot of interest and animated discussion from passersby.

    Union picket

    Picket-- a group of people outside a workplace or other venue protesting and trying to persuade others not to enter. There were a number of pickets last decade, particularly relating to fast food companies and their zero-hour contracts, under which workers had no guarantee of how many hours they worked each week. There were also pickets over increasing minimum pay or paying workers a living wage. Here, a Unite Union picket is held against Restaurant Brands on the corner of Kent Terrace and Pirie Street in Mount Victoria.

    Destiny Church Rally

    Rally-- a mass meeting of people showing support for a cause. This motorcycle rally was part of a campaign by Destiny Church to make the self-improvement Man Up program available in prisons. The rally began with the arrival of some Destiny members on motorcycles. Customary burnouts followed, and then the protesters moved onto Parliament grounds. Here's some photographs of the Destiny Church supporters that attended the rally.

    Peace Vigil

    Vigil-- a stationary, peaceful demonstration in support of a particular cause, typically, without speeches. This candlelit peace vigil was appropriately held outside the cenotaph to mark the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I on August the 4th, 2014. Vigils that night were held all over the motu by Peace Movement Aotearoa and also the Quakers.

    Tuia 250 Protest and Flag Burning

    Flag burning-- it does happen from time to time. The most well-known recent case was in 2007 when a New Zealand flag was burnt on Anzac Day by activist Valerie Morse. Her case went all the way to the Supreme Court, where Morse's conviction for offensive behaviour was quashed.

    Here, activist Sharon Campbell, on the right, having burnt the New Zealand flag, is busy stomping on it in protest against a replica Endeavour which had just tied up on the other side of Tūranganui River in Gisborne. Speaking in the background on the left is activist Marise Lant, who helped lead this Tuia 250 protest at Tūranga.

    Hunger strike

    Hunger strike-- here's one very hungry climate action protester David Goldsmith 15 days into his hunger strike outside Parliament. He survived 21 days on water and vitamins, then handed over to another protester. And on the left supporting him is Molly Melhuish-- climate and energy policy activist.

    School Strike for Climate Change

    And this strike neatly segues us back to the major protests from last decade. This solo practice was not in New Zealand, but it was one of the most famous the last decade. This is Greta Thunberg about three days into her lone protest in August 2018 outside the Swedish Parliament.

    Her sign reads, "School strike for climate". And the leaflets below simply say, "We kids most often don't do what you tell us to do. We do as you do. And since you grown-ups don't give a shit about my future, I won't, either. My name is Greta, and I'm in the ninth grade, and I refuse school for the climate until the Swedish general election."

    She also posed this question-- what if a million schoolchildren skipped school for the climate and instead sat outside parliaments and town halls? That would carry an enormous weight and be talked about worldwide. And it was. In 2019, some of the biggest protests in New Zealand's history took place under the School Strike 4 Climate New Zealand banner. What's more, they were organised by teenagers.

    That year alone saw three schools' climate strike protests in Whanganui-a-Tara And there was also the massive Extinction Rebellion protest in October, which locked down parts of Wellington for a day.

    The first school strike protest in March saw around 20,000 students demanding action from politicians to prevent climate change. And despite the huge amount of media attention leading up and during the protest, it was overshadowed by the tragic mosque attacks on the same day. Here's some photographs from that first protest.

    In May 2019, thousands of students again marched for climate action. This person here in the front is Sophie Handford, then 17 years old. Later, she also helped mobilise more than 170,000 people for the third major climate protest in September. That demonstration was New Zealand's largest protest ever. Here's several images from that May protest.

    Rangatahi protesters on Parliament grounds. And the march also featured the Pacific Climate Warriors, a Pacifika grassroots youth network, which led the protest to Parliament grounds that day.

    Other climate protests

    Other climate protests that year included street performances by Extinction Rebellion-- in this case, on Cuba Street during the CubaDupa festival-- and also this, the longest-running protest on Parliament grounds.

    For a hundred days, climate change activist Ollie Langridge set himself up on Parliament grounds during the day, demanding politicians declare a national climate emergency. When I took this photograph, Ollie-- he's on the right-- was running his company using his phone and laptop while protesting at the same time.

    And ongoing to this day are the Fridays for Future Aotearoa New Zealand climate protests. These are held on Parliament grounds every Friday lunchtime.

    Speaking in the background is Dave Lowe, one of our founding climate change scientists. Lowe established the Baring Head air monitoring station in the early 1970s, and that helped prove climate-driven climate change-- sorry, human-driven climate change.

    And incidentally, he also has a Nobel Peace Prize for his part in the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which received the award in 2007.

    And finally, on December the 2nd, 2020, a climate emergency was declared by the Labour government. Here, climate activists watched the declaration on a laptop in Parliament grounds.

    Womens’ March

    Another large global demonstration that decade was the Love Trumps Hate Women's March of 2017. This was in response to Donald Trump's inauguration as US president. As you can see here, a dominant feature of the protest was the pink pussy hat inspired by Trump's misogynistic comments in October of 2016. The hats became such a popular craft activity that the USA reputedly ran out of pink wool yarn.

    Here's a couple of images from that march. I spent ages trying to line up the sign with the Kate Sheppard green traffic sign, which is just hidden by that placard there, but no such luck. And incidentally, this sign is now in the collections of Te Papa. And here's a family with placards protesting on Parliament grounds that day.

    Ihumātao Protectors

    There were also a number of protests in 2019 over the proposed housing development of Ihumātao by Fletchers in South Auckland. Ihumātao and the surrounding area are Aotearoa's first gardens. And it is also the oldest continually occupied Māori village in New Zealand-- over 600 years.

    In fact, this protest and occupation was a six-year-long struggle. It involved hīkoi like this one, petitions, court actions, visits to Parliament, and even a trip to the United Nations. Here, Ihumātao supporters are reaching the gates of Parliament back in March 2019.

    And here is Pania Newton, the face of Protect Ihumātao, along with Green Party co-leader Marama Davidson. It was Pania, along with five cousins, who set up SOUL, or Save Our Unique Landscape, and then peacefully occupied the Otuataua Stonefields Historic Reserve. In this 2019 protest, SOUL and their Wellington supporters had submitted a petition to Parliament demanding the government intervene and stop the confrontation with Fletchers.

    The last Ihumātao protest that year was notable for its use of social media to quickly rally support for the occupiers when the occupiers were served with eviction notices in late July. In Wellington, hundreds attended, almost spontaneously, the August day of action.

    Here, you can clearly see the extraordinary spike of interest over Ihumātao via Google Trends for August 11, 2019. And here, a koha is being handed over for the occupiers of the Ihumātao. Some of the protests also occurred down on Bowen Street intersection. Out of view and off to the left, someone had chained themselves to a car parked in the middle of the road. And here's a group portrait of supporters at Parliament just after the protest had finished.

    Black Lives Matter

    In 2020, thousands of people gathered in our major cities to march in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. The killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis had enraged and energised protesters in the US and across the world. However, in this Wellington demonstration, protesters were not only honouring George Floyd's memory and Black Lives but also raising issues around Indigenous rights, racism, and the need for institutional decolonisation.

    Here's some images from that protest. This demonstration was also the first major protest held under the New Zealand COVID alert level one guidelines.

    Aestheics and components of protest

    Activist protests in public use a variety of techniques and aesthetics to communicate and amplify their messages. Here's a quick look at some of those components of public protest.

    Placards

    So, let's start with the obvious-- placards. Placards are the most ubiquitous objects associated with civic protests, and they signal a unique, creative way to endorse or attack a social issue.

    The do-it-yourself aesthetic of a bold, simple text and graphic design allow for a quick interpretation, while slogans often serve as barometers of social action or inaction. Increasingly, placards like these are being collected by cultural institutions, including Te Papa and Puke Ariki. Here's some examples from recent climate change demonstrations.

    At times, placards can be straight to the point, serious, and, of course, humorous, and just plain bizarre, like these QAnon-inspired, conspiracy-driven signs at an anti-vax Federation – ah Freedom rally last year. Note the range of messages, both national and mostly international, and also the fact that all the placards had been professionally printed.

    Banners

    And let's not forget banners, easily the most significant visual sign in any protest involving collective marching. It's also one frequently captured by photographers, as it can dramatically set the context of a protest. The art is taking the photograph at the last minute and then-- the art is taking the photograph at the last minute and then moving out of the way very, very quickly.

    Clothing

    Clothing has often served as a powerful identification symbol to maximise visual impact. Take this random scattering of shoes on Parliament grounds. Each of these 579 pairs represents a New Zealander lost to suicide in 2016.

    The shoes have travelled across the motu and arrived at Parliament in September 2017, on International Suicide Prevention Day. There were shoes for eight children aged between 10 and 14. 51 were for teenagers, and 70% of the shoes were men's.

    I bet you never thought you would attend a presentation that discusses sanitary pads as an item of protest. So what's going on here? This was Aotearoa inaugural Slutwalk, a protest sparked by a Toronto police officer's remarks that women could avoid being raped by not dressing like sluts. The reference here to menstruating and productive/not productive labels references the Employer Association boss at the time, Alasdair Thompson, and his controversial comments on why women earn less than men.

    "Women take more sick leave than men," Thompson told reporter Mihingarangi Forbes. "I know it's an awful thing to say, but it's true." The gender pay gap is due to women having monthly sick problems. Needless to say, Thompson didn't remain in his job for much longer.

    And here's some stickers that mess with your mind. These are in a reference to the Five Eyes alliance, an intelligence sharing arrangement between the USA, UK, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. This was an anti-GCSB bill protest that marched from Cuba Street to Parliament back in 2013.

    The body can be used as a canvas to literally draw attention to a social or political issue. In this case, a protester has covered her body in crude oil to highlight the opposition to fracking in New Zealand, while here, body paint is used to mock New Zealand's tourism's 100% pure campaign.

    Masks-- this mask has come to symbolise broad protest over the last two decades after it was first used in the graphic novel V for Vendetta and its 2005 film adaptation. It's become a well-known symbol for activist groups like Anonymous, the Occupy Movement, and the Anonymous for the Voiceless, which has led to it being called, well, the Anonymous mask.

    Flags

    Flags are a potent protest symbol symbolising both belonging and defiance, and/or. And these two are especially allied to contemporary Māori protest. The top flag, of course, is the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. In 1989, Hiraina Marsden, Jan Dobson, and Linda Munn designed the flag to represent by Māori for Māori and to symbolise the fight for cultural autonomy and sovereignty, or Tino Rangatiratanga. Below that is the United Tribes flag, a flag selected and used by Ngāpuhi chiefs in 1834.

    Over the last couple of years, I've noticed both these flags becoming common at protests, most recently with the Freedom of Rights Coalition and the Freedom of Choice marches or what is colloquially referred to as the anti-vax protests. It's a point not lost on one of the designers of the Tino Rangatiratanga flag, Linda Munn, who recently said, "I saw our Tino Rangatiratanga flag sitting side by side with that Trump abomination. I was quite dismayed. If you want to make a stance, go back to your whānau and get vaccinated."

    Here, the Tino Rangatiratanga flag has been printed on clothing. And note in the background activist Valerie Morse to the left. And here, of course, both flags are flying at the 2011 foreshore and seabed hīkoi.

    Effigy

    An effigy is a roughly made model of a person that is often destroyed at a protest. This one of Prime Minister John Key featured at the Kiwis for Clean Politics demonstration in 2014. The pooh John Key is holding is probably a symbolic reference to the dirty politics made public in August 2014 by Nicky Hager's book, Dirty Politics. The book was based on thousands of emails and Facebook messages revealing right-wing blogger Cameron Slater's conversations with National Party members.

    Here, a condom filled with water is about to hit an effigy of Donald Trump. Around 200 protesters had gathered outside Parliament to unwelcome the US Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, who had arrived in Wellington for talks. The protest was also a direct response to Trump's decision to pull out of the Paris Climate Accord.

    Incidentally, when Rex Tillerson drove through Wellington, the US media contingent was surprised by the hostile reaction of the Wellingtonians. "I've never seen so many people give the finger at an American motorcade as I saw today, Gardiner Harris, The New York Times Washington correspondent, told Stuff.

    Not all effigies are meant, or are, destroyed. This one depicts our most famous conscientious objector, Archibald Baxter. It was found tied to a post in Frank Kitts Park on Anzac Day in 2016. The effigy references Field Punishment Number One, an incredibly traumatic and, let's call it what it is, painful torture vividly detailed in Baxter's book, We Will Not Cease. Peace Action Wellington created the effigy to, quote, "end the romance of war and the militarisation of Anzac Day." This effigy is now in the collections of Te Papa, which you can just see in the background.

    Costume

    Like clothing, costume provides an effective way to highlight intended messages. Here, these activists in pig costumes, or onesies, are demonstrating outside a pork conference on Featherston Street in 2015. By the way, those hula hoops are not for play or decoration. In a fattening pen, a 70 kilogram pig is given about half a square meter of space, the diameter of a hula hoop. The pigs spend a few months in these fattening pens before being sent to the abattoir.

    And I couldn't go past Herb. Dressed as a joint and advocating for the green fairies, these are people who grow and supply cannabis to those seeking pain relief. I often see them at parliamentary protests, but this was the only time he wasn't riding his Raleigh 20 bicycle dressed in a green three-piece suit printed with marijuana leaves.

    Chalk

    Chalking-- chalking is writing protest messages using chalk. It's tolerated in New Zealand and often found outside Parliament. More recently, in association with anti-1080 and anti-vax protests. Here anti-1080 protesters are chalking up outside Parliament. And these three protesters were supporting Dakta Green, who was being sentenced for running a Wellington cannabis cafe, hence the cannabis leaf chalked on the ground.

    Chants and music

    Another indispensable part of public protest are the collective chants. This one is from a teacher strike in 2018. Numbers in chants are especially popular, especially 2, 4, 6, 8. And like chants, music often accompanies protest. It can often motivate and inspire a commonality of expression, both emotionally and intellectually.

    In Wellington, we have the Brass Razoo Solidarity Band, which has been performing at pickets and protests and community events for over a decade. Its originator, Don Franks, notes how playing breaks the ice at the start of a picket, especially if that picket's rather small. "We help to build a happy, militant mood." Now, it's highly unusual to carry weapons to demonstrations but common practice in Aotearoa New Zealand regarding Māori protest. Rākau, or traditional Māori weapons, add mana and emphasis to protest through the potent Te Ao Māori cultural values they represent and project.

    Here a Tauranga Moana party toa are making their way to Parliament grounds with taiaha. And this Tauranga Moana protester has a huata, or long spear. This haka party with taiaha are at rest after their performances supporting the Ngā Pakanga o Aotearoa New Zealand Wars Petition to Parliament, which was delivered in 2015 in December.

    Street theatre

    Street theatre-- since the 1960s, street-style theatre has been a recognised protest tool that elevates social or political messages through symbolic action. While not as common today as it was in the 1960s and '70s, it is still an effective tool. Here, members of the campaign group Action Station single out KiwiSaver providers who had invested in armament production. For these performers, the lack of ethical accountability literally means that the KiwiSaver providers had blood on their hands.

    Vehicles

    Vehicles-- long gone are the days when you could literally drive up to the steps of Parliament, park your car, and protest. The last time that happened was when Keith Thurston sparked the parliamentary lockdown on Budget Day in 2016. He'd driven up to Parliament's entrance, set fire to his Ute, and then walked away.

    This car was part of a 2013 anti-state asset sale protest. In this protest, the farmer leaves Civic Square in his tractor. This was part of a protest against North Island farmland, particularly on the East Coast in Wairarapa, being converted into pine plantations.

    Colour

    And let's not forget colour as a unifying theme for protesters. There's purple for midwives, green for farmers, and orange for Generation Zero.

    Recent protests 2021

    So where are we at, protest-wise, as we enter the new decade? Well, despite lockdowns, traffic lights, and COVID's ongoing civic disruption, protest is still taking place, as we know from recent events just minutes from this auditorium. Here's some notable Pōneke protests from this year and late 2021.

    Trans rights

    In July 21, a trans right rally of around a thousand people gathered outside Wellington Town Hall to protest against the Speak Up for Women group meeting. But the transgender supporters were mainly there to support and affirm our gender-diverse community and to acknowledge transgender rights as human rights. Here's some photographs from that evening.

    Anti-Vax Protest and Parliament Occupation

    Meanwhile, at Parliament grounds the same month, pro-Trump, pro-QAnon, pro-democracy reset, anti-vax, anti-mask, anti-mandate, anti-UN and Bill Gates protesters marched up and down Parliament steps, hurling abuse and insults through the doors and windows at reporters inside. It was a portend of what was to come.

    In November and December last year, Brian Tamaki's Freedom & Rights Coalition held two large protest marches in Wellington. While it didn't quite reach the 50,000 attendance predicted by Brian Tamaki, hundreds did march. Again, here's some photographs from that December protest

    Finally, I'll leave you with some images of signs and messages that came out of the convoy protest occupation of February, March this year, certainly, the most surreal protest occupation I've yet photographed, at times deeply unsettling and others more like a badly organised but joyous music festival. It had multiple interest groups, divergent goals-- desires for peace and kindness coupled with bizarre imagery, including threats of arrest and hangings.

    The people I met and talked to were generous with their thoughts and opinions. Some were angry. Some just wanted to talk about their life experiences. Others-- well, it was impossible, for me, anyway, to believe their earnest conspiracy claims, like the occupier outside the cathedral who complained to me that the electromagnetic waves coming from the church tower behind them were giving the occupiers headaches and flu-like symptoms.

    But there's some uneasy questions that need to be considered and addressed. Why were so many Māori involved in these recent protests? Why was there an almost pathological hatred for Jacinda Ardern? How do you deal with a group of people with no unifying leadership? And for us here in Wellington, how did a relatively unorganised group manage so successfully to gridlock a city for weeks?

    The sign there reads, "Satan is Ardern's daddy". And this is looking from the forecourt of the National Library over towards Parliament. Some of the signs that they protest-- this was the early days of the protest, by the way.

    Final thoughts

    Thanks for listening and watching. And a big shout-out to the National Library public engagement team, particularly Tanja and Mark for facilitating this presentation.

    Remember, protest is an essential Democratic right and a fundamental part of being an active citizen. You can use your feet or voice or costume, even your calligraphy skills, but maybe not just yet. The lawns need to dry out and sprout. And like the upside-down flag, this country of five million needs to work out how we turn the world the right way up again and collectively get on with our lives. Thanks very much Any pātai?

  • Transcript — E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent — Part 2

    Questions

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: So thank you, Dylan. I'm just reading off the screen some of the questions. And someone's suggesting you should do a book. What do you think about that?

    Dylan Owen: I agree. I'm too busy photographing at the moment.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: True. It would make a wonderful book, for sure. I'm interested in what got you interested in photographing protests.

    Dylan Owen: My mic on? Yes. I think, visually, it's the intensity of protests. It's a dynamic event, as I said. And you're photographing people, and I love photographing people. But also, I think, to a large degree, protest almost-- some protest-- portends the future. So what happens now in protest will actually become actuality.

    Homosexual legislation is a good example, like the protests around that, Springbok tour. So you're looking ahead in the future. Why people are protesting now becomes an eventuality in the future, often. The Pakanga o Aotearoa New Zealand Wars is a good example of that, the petition that went through.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Yeah, a lot of change starts with protest, for sure.

    OK, here's a question. "Thanks for your presentation, Dylan. I've wondered what has been the protest that has stuck with you the most over your years of photographing dissent?"

    Dylan Owen: Good question. Emotionally, I would say there would be two. And that was a Syrian protest against the bombing of Syrian Christians here in Wellington, protesting against the bombing of their churches in Syria. That was one that really emotionally got to me.

    And another was a protest against institutionalised violence effected on tamariki, kids that were institutionalised back in the '60s, '70s. Now, a number of these people got up and had letters and spoke to the experiences. And it was pretty horrific and incredibly emotional.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: And another question. Have you ever been told to bugger off by protesters who took exception to being photographed?

    Dylan Owen: Interesting question. No, not really. And I expected that when I attended the Brian Tamaki protests because of the often vitriol that was handed out to photographers. And in fact, I photographed a couple that were protesting against the Brian Tamaki protests, and they were beaten up later. But no, no one's ever come up to me and told me to bugger off.

    They have come up to me and challenged what I was doing or asked what I was doing. And I say that these photographs will eventually, hopefully, will end up in the National Library. And they seem kind of interested in that and, not excited, but they thought that that was OK. I wasn't the media. I was something else, so it was OK.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Interesting.

    Dylan Owen: Sorry, I should also add that I've been threatened with more-- with arrest by police than I have by protesters, apart from one incident.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: And is there an online gallery where people can see your photographs?

    Dylan Owen: Yes, National Library. If you just go to the National Library website, I guess type in my name, and a few demonstrations will come up that you can have a look at at your leisure.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Cool. Personal question, when I look at your photographs, I'm impressed how close to the action you are. Sometimes it looks like you're right in front of the march or on a low viewpoint to get a good angle. So what is your advice for people wanting to photograph protests?

    Dylan Owen: Oh, there's lots of advice, just from my own reflections. I use a 28, 35 mil lens, which means that I have to get up close. In the past, I used to watch Ans Westra demonstrations, and I copy from her. She uses a Rolex, and it's waist level, so she's very inconspicuous, and she gets those wonderful images by just going up close. So she doesn't present or thrust the camera in people's faces. And I'm very conscious of photographing people and not getting in their way. I'm just there to observe, in a sense.

    So there's a cliché in photography circles. If you're not getting a good photograph, you're not close enough. But you do need to be close. So you need to be fairly I wouldn't say assertive but confident about your skills and what you need to capture. I'm not there to capture the heroic images. I'm there to capture just people and their responses to the protest, which is why I don't really tend to focus on, say, the politicians or the leaders. It's the people there that I'm interested in, in photographing, anyway.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: So I see a lot of grateful people out there thanking you for your talk and some suggestions about adding your photos to New Zealand history books, perhaps for schools.

    Dylan Owen: That has been done. Some people have used my images in their books, yeah.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Fantastic. And maybe to finish off, there is one question about a process for you to deposit your work into the National Library collection. So that's quite relevant.

    Dylan Owen: How do I go about doing it-- is that the question?

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Yes. If someone were (inaudible).

    Dylan Owen: Well, I'm a bit behind, actually. Normally, I do it every year, but I'm running about four years late through a number of reasons. But I go through an editorial process. So for this last of the COVID occupation, I took quite a few photos of that and of different types, or different themes, within that protest. And I tend to keep those for a year.

    I don't really do social media. I don't get them out straightaway. I like to look at them, think about them, and come back and refine them after about a year, just so they settle down, so to speak. So it takes a couple of years.

    The editorial process takes quite a bit of time. It's easy with a digital camera to shoot heaps, but it takes a lot longer to edit them. So I want a number of images of protest to fully describe what happened at that time frame.

    So I put them through. I think I take them to the curator or ask the curator if she'd be interested in having a look at them. And she sometimes says yes. And then they go through a process where they're assessed and also labelled and described, that sort of stuff, and then finally ingested. But it does take a long time. Because we're very busy, and we've got other things to do, so hence the delay. I hope that's answered the question.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Thank you. So on that note, I would like to thank Dylan Owen once again for his wonderful presentation. And I'm sure he's also open to having questions emailed—

    Dylan Owen: Happy to, yeah.

    Tanja Schubert-McArthur: if you haven't answered any. So thank you very much for joining today. Please register for other events. Ka kite anō.

    Dylan Owen:, Ka kite anō and have a lovely Easter everyone.


    Any errors with the transcript, let us know and we will fix them. Email us at digital-services@dia.govt.nz

Transcript — E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent — Part 1

Speakers

Dylan Owen, Tanja Schubert-McArthur

Introduction

Dylan Owen: Kia ora, tēnā koutou katoa, ahiahi mārie. Ko Dylan Owen tōku ingoa.

Good afternoon. I'm Dylan Owen, and I work for the National Library Te Puna Mātauranga o Aotearoa in Services to Schools. Separate from my role here, as Tanja indicated, I've also been documenting aspects of civic life in Aotearoa and New Zealand, including public protest.

Background

And so today, I want to highlight public protest in Whanganui-a-Tara using photographs I've taken over the last 20 or so years, some of which are held in the Alexander Turnbull Library. I've selected these primarily to illustrate some of our major protests and their origins, types of public protest, and how protest communicates its messages of resistance or advocacy.

First, a few things to note. The reflections and thoughts in this presentation are my own and don't necessarily represent the views of the National Library. Having said that, I should acknowledge that there are many other perspectives to the events and actions I'm describing today.

As well, photography isn't the only way we gather and retain information about social action. For example, there are physical items like badges and posters and banners. But more importantly, there are the stories of the individuals involved in protest.

As a photographer recording public protest is a visually intense and dynamic experience. But public protest isn't the only way to progress social change. The real mahi often lies behind the scenes in the planning, the letters, petitions, meetings, legal challenges, lobbying, networking, and of course, since the late 1990s, the use of online activism and social media tools.

For the demonstrators, protest is also a visual and vocal civic action, one full of passion. So it's no surprise that some of the banners and placards in these images are confronting, blunt, graphic, and a little sweary. But of course, that's their point.

I also must acknowledge those who have paved the way in documenting dissent in Aotearoa, particularly over the last 60 or so years, people like Ans Westra, John Miller, Bruce Connew, Mark Adams, and Gil Hanly, to name a few.

Ngā mihi nui camera whānau and also ngā mihi aroha to the many activists and protesters I've met and photographed. Their advocacy, dissent, and convictions are vital for a progressive, inclusive, and, of course, healthy democracy.

What is public protest?

A quick look at public protest. Here's my definition. Protest is a public declaration of opinion, frequently dissent. It can be one person. And here is mechanic Sid Hanzlik N in a burqa protesting against the family court over access to his children in 2016. Or it can be many. Here, animal liberation marches are proceeding down Willis Street in November 2020. Protest is usually accompanied with objects, sound, speeches, clothing, and gestures, all designed to reinforce, amplify, and symbolise the views of the protesters.

Who can protest?

Who can protest? Anyone can protest, from schoolchildren-- here's a photograph of akonga or primary school children-- at the 2019 school strike for climate protest. And this literally is a supergran. She was part of a group that had come up from Nelson to Wellington to protest at the 2018 oil production conference.

Now, the right to protest in New Zealand is enshrined in the law under three subsections of the Bill of Rights-- subsections 14, 16, and 17. And they state that there is a right to meet and organise with others, the right to gather and protest with others, and the right to speak out and say what you think with others, although we know, of course, there are some limits to that. And as the sign says here, protest is not illegal and certainly not a crime.

Emissions Tax Protest

I first began taking photographs of protests I think around 2003, when John Mohi, who was then National Library's director of Māori, suggested I pop over to Parliament and use the new Services to Schools camera. One of the first was the notorious fart tax protest. This saw farmers invading Parliament with tractors and cows in an effort to stop a proposed world-first tax on methane-emitting livestock.

That tractor on the left there is the notorious Myrtle, which MP Shane Ardern drove up the steps of Parliament. Notice the placard on the back of that tractor and note the similarities to last year's howl of protest sign-- not my photo, by the way. Politicians may change, but our attitudes towards them often don't. I'll leave you to work out what's more disturbing-- the use of the apostrophe in 'Kiwis' or Jacinda’s communism.

What isn't widely known is that there were also cows at that protest, both real and unreal. The two cows on the left belonged to MP Lockwood Smith. He also led them up Parliament steps, where one cow did a protest on its own, to the amusement of the farmers that were there. Parliamentary staff were not so happy.

The placard on the right there refers to Pete Hodgson, then Energy and Environment Minister. The Labour government eventually backed down on this proposed livestock tax, which was a pity, because today, there is still no regulation of agricultural emissions in New Zealand, just a target of 10% reduction in biological methane emissions by 2030 and a further 2050 target.

Other protests that year include the anti-Iraq war demonstrations against the US-led invasion of Iraq. Note the banner's witty pun there on Skippy, the then-US President Bush, and John Howard, who was the Australian Prime Minister at the time. Australia made a substantial military contribution to that war, but Helen Clarke`'s Labour government did not.

This protest, again in 2003, was against the lifting of the moratorium on the commercial release of genetically engineered organisms. It was led, in part, by MAdGE, or Mothers Against Genetic Engineering. MAdGE also staged a protest in Parliament's debating chamber the same year by stripping down to their bras. They were immediately evicted and banned from Parliament for two years.

Equipment

Now, if some of these early photographs look a bit low res, that's because I was using the latest technology-- this, a Sony Mavica digital camera first launched back in January 2002. I don't know if you can see clearly, but this camera clocked in at a whopping 2 megapixels, which was certainly inferior to the resolution of existing analogue cameras at the time. However, it represented a profound shift in technology and immediacy, and this has led to today's ubiquitous use of smartphones to film and photograph events important to our lives.

As you can see in this advertisement of the time, the success of this early digital camera was its ability to let you pop in a floppy disk, or memory stick, take pictures, and then instantly review them. At the time, that floppy disk could only hold four JPEGs.

Anti-National Front Protests

So what have been some of the prominent Pōneke protests over the last 20 or so years? First, 2003 to 2010. In 2004, '06, and then again in 2008 and '09, there were protests against the New Zealand National Front at Parliament by anti-fascists or, as Inspector Paul Berry of the Wellington police called them at the time, "a radical anarchist punk rocker-type group." These protests occurred in October, when the National Front would hold their self-declared pro-white, anti-immigrant, flag day rally. And here, you can see one of their flags in the background just to the left.

At times, these were pretty intense confrontations. The National Front would come in from the Hutt by train or car, unfurl their flags at Parliament, and then beat a retreat back to the train station, chased by the Multicultural Aotearoa members and Fairies Against Fascism. On this flag day in 2004, the National Front was surrounded by protesters outside the law school. I remember one protester smashing a wing mirror on the National Front car, at which the owner jumped up onto the bonnet, pulled a knife, and leapt towards us. He was quickly taken down by the police, one of three NF members arrested that day.

On the left in this 2004 protest is an Anarcho-Fairy, or Scary Fairy, as they are sometimes referred to. In the middle, the Fairies Against Fascism are putting on a dance for the National Front. And at the extreme right, naturally, are members of the National Front. What you can't hear are the counter-protesters chanting, make like your leader and shoot yourself, a reference to Hitler's suicide.

And this is what white supremacy looked like in 2009. That person in the middle with the cam jacket over his shoulder is the far-right political activist Kyle Chapman, former director of the New Zealand National Front. But when I took this photograph, he had just founded the Right-Wing Resistance, a white supremacist, neo-Nazi group.

These face-offs ended after 2009, when the anti-fascist group MCA stopped their counter-protests because the confrontations were giving the far right too much local and national publicity. White supremacy groups are still very much alive in New Zealand but operating mainly online.

Thankfully, there are also a number of anti-fascist activists, researchers, and groups, like Tamaki Anti-Fascist Action and the Paparoa Collective. These groups provide a citizen base watching brief over current New Zealand far-right groups.

Hīkoi

Specific to Aotearoa and New Zealand protests is the hīkoi, which today generally refers to a protest march, often led by Māori, that can take days or weeks to complete. Of course, our most famous hīkoi last century was the 1975 "not one more acre" of Māori land, led by Whina Cooper.

But there were also two prominent hīkoi in the first decade of this century. In April 2004, a hīkoi, again from Northland, arrived in Pōneke to protest against proposed legislation that would see New Zealand's foreshore ownership vested with the Crown. Such was the anger for Māoridom that it led to the creation of the Māori Party. Here's some photographs of the hīkoi when it arrived at Parliament.

On the left, the hīkoi moves up Molesworth Street, supported by one of the seven Ratana brass bands. And on the right, the hīkoi arrives at Parliament gates. This photograph on the left here shows relatives of Dame Whina Cooper holding a framed copy of that famous photograph. Hinerangi Puru, daughter of Whina Cooper, is also there, just behind the portrait, wearing the red beret and glasses.

Seven years later and the Foreshore and Seabed Act, passed in 2004, was repealed in 2011. However, this legislation now required Māori to prove customary title to the foreshore and seabed in their rohe It was a bitter disappointment to many Iwi and initiated this second hīkoi.

On the left here, you can see the hīkoi moving up Molesworth Street. On the right, a wero takes place inside Parliament grounds. Two rākau experts performing with a taiaha on the right and a tewhatewha on the left. And note long-time activist Hone Harawira in the background to the right.

Here, the hīkoi filing into Parliament grounds. And note the tīpari, or headbands, of rākau, in this case, kōwhai, kawakawa, and I think I can see some rosemary there, as well. In this image, the circlets of kawakawa leaves on the two kuiain the foreground are called parekawakawa, and are a symbol of mourning, often seen at tangihanga.

Another hīkoi that decade followed the 2007 police anti-terror raids, when armed police raided properties in the Tūhoe rohe, as well as houses in some of our major cities. November that year, Tūhoe Iwi headed towards Wellington to express their riri or anger at the raids and also historic confiscations of Tūhoe whenua.

This was one protest where I felt a real sense of injustice by protesters. Their mana had been trampled over. And as activist Tame Iti said at the time, we've had 200 years of psychological abuse by the state and the Crown. And this was just the next chapter.

In 2014, Police Commissioner Mike Bush formally apologised to Ngāi Tūhoe for the police actions during the raids. And here the, Tūhoe hīkoi are marching down Lambton Quay. And note that finely carved taiaha on the left there. And this was a Tūhoe haka performed at the north end of Lambton Quay. The use of rākau weapons-- haka, waiata and, of course, pūkana are common in Māori protests. It's a way to express defiance, hara, injustice, while adding individual, and especially collective, cultural emphasis to tell tautohetoheor protest.

Occupy Movement

Significant protests over the last decade in Pōneke were largely a product of international events and global unrest. The Occupy Movement initially began in New York in September 2011 as a protest against corporate greed. In Pōneke, the movement camped out at Civic Square from October 2011 to February 2012, and it consisted of around 30 tents and a fluctuating population of around 60 people.

As a global protest movement, it was criticised for not having clear demands or agenda to force social change. But it has been credited with showcasing income inequality and bringing that into the public arena. It also represented a training ground for new generations of social and political activists. And to the left here, you can see the Occupy camp and also their famous catchphrase just through the fence. And this photograph was taken at an Occupy protest which was held down on the waterfront in 2011.

Anti-TPPA Protest

The Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement, or TPPA-- I might shorten it to just TPA-- was a proposed Pacific Rim regional trade agreement involving 12 countries, including New Zealand, Australia, and the United States. These ongoing trade negotiations resulted in one of our longest-running protests, which was against New Zealand signing the agreement. There were demonstrations and marches throughout the motu from 2014 right up to early 2018.

In Wellington alone, there were three TPPA protests in 2016. And the demonstrations ended when President Trump abandoned the TPPA trade deal. This photograph here was an anti-TPPA protest that was making its way down Wakefield Street towards Parliament.

Here's an example of some of the colourful TPPA banners and placards at a Midland Park protest. Those wonderful knitted and crocheted banners in the background there, they came from the Whanganui chapter of the TPPA. This is anti-TPPA protesters at Parliament. The reason the protester there is cracking up is because she'd just seen me burst out laughing at her very subtly worded placard.

And here's another anti-TPPA protest at Parliament. You know it's going to be an interesting protest-- visually, anyway-- for photographers when someone makes it up the Seddon statue to plant the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. And this TPPA protest was below Parliament, which saw a crowd listening to speakers around the cenotaph.

At this 2015 TPPA demonstration, extra police were called in to help security as protesters raced across the forecourt to occupy Parliament steps. This is Shane Hayes on the steps that day dressed not as Uncle Sam but as Uncle Scam. He was busy auctioning lipstick at inflated prices. Protesters had claimed that pharmaceuticals and cosmetics would significantly increase in cost if New Zealand signed the trade agreement.

Now, part of the opposition to the trade deal was the secrecy surrounding negotiations, which protesters claimed was a breach of the treaty obligation to actively engage with Māori. Here, a large group of protesters fighting against the trade agreement aimed to get into the MFAT trade headquarters on Lambton Quay and then seize the TPPA text. However, police created two human barricades, preventing the demonstrators from entering. After their attempts were unsuccessful, a group sat on the road, blocking traffic on Lambton Quay. 26 protesters were arrested.

Other types of protest

Now, a little diversion, mid-decade. Public protest is not just marching down a street or hurling yourself at police lines. There are other types of civic actions social and political activists use to make their point. Here's some examples from the last 20 or so years.

Sit in

Sit-in-- to occupy a place as a form of protest. This view of Pureora Forest is the site of the world's first treetop sit-in protest led by Native Forest Action Council activists. In September 1978, in order to stop the logging of the virgin Pureora Forest, protesters camped out on makeshift platforms in the large podocarp trees, including these rimu in the background there. The protest gained national attention, and logging finally ceased in 1982.

This more recent treetop protest in Avondale last year was organised by Mana Rākau in order to save a section of trees on Canal Street-- sorry, Canal Road. Eight people were arrested trying to stop the selling of this urban forest. And that consisted of dozens of mature native trees, including tōtara, kahikatea, karaka, and pūriri.

Blockade

Blockade-- to seal off a place to prevent people from entering or leaving. In 2017, peace activists gathered at Wellington's Westpac Stadium to blockade the annual New Zealand Defense Industry Association Expo. This expo was an annual meeting of delegates from some of the world's largest weapon and arms manufacturers.

Here, Reverend Andy Hickman, on the extreme left there, and members of the Peace Action Wellington are blockading one of the entrances, part of a successful protest tactic called NVDA, or Nonviolent Direct Action. The controversial military expo was finally scrapped by organisers after years of non-violent disruption by peace activists.

Counterprotest

Counterprotest-- a protest staged to oppose another protest. This counter-protest took place outside a religious rally demanding that the Speaker of the House, Trevor Mallard, reinstate references to Jesus Christ in parliamentary prayers. These gentlemen outside were offering some alternatives to Christianity, including Nordic mythology, Satanism, Jedi-ism, and the online religion known as the Church of the Latter-Day Dude.

And why is that protester in the middle there wearing a pirates outfit? If you look at the weird monster on his placard, well, that's a depiction of FSM, or Flying Spaghetti Monster, which is a deity in a religion called Pastafarianism. This movement promotes itself as a real legitimate religion as much as any other. Pastafarianism tenets include a creation myth that the Flying Spaghetti Monster created the universe but after only drinking heavily. And one of its tenets is that pirates are revered as the original Pastafarianism. So now you know.

Flotilla

Protests at sea-- in 2015, about 60 protesters took to kayaks, surfboards, waka, and paddleboards to protest against the ongoing offshore oil and gas exploration around the motu.

Silent protest

Silent protest-- a protest where participants stay quiet to demonstrate disapproval. Here, Wellington readers and authors attend a silent protest outside Unity Bookshop against the interim banning of a young adult novel, coming of age novel, Into the River by Ted Dawe. Protests were held, also, in Auckland and Dunedin.

A Family First complaint led to the interim banning of this award-winning novel. Bob McCroskie, director of Family First, had counted up the number of times offensive words had appeared in the book. And he told Radio New Zealand, it's a book that's got the C word nine times, the F word 17 times, and S-H-I-T 16 times.

The person on the right, Maureen here, didn't want her face in the photo. So I got her to angle her sign up to hide the face. And from there, I think that Elizabeth Knox was just standing behind Maureen at this demonstration.

This poignant silent protest by the Auckland based collective Oceania Interrupted was held at Waitangi Park in 2015. Their aim was, and is, to raise awareness for West Papua independence from Indonesia. The Pacific Island and Māori Wāhine here are wearing black pareo, or a kind of sarong. And their cotton gags are printed with the morning star flag. That's the West Papua independence flag.

And this is the Cube of Truth organised by Anonymous for the Voiceless. And it works like this. A team of silent AV supporters wearing Anonymous masks forms a square while their laptops display graphic footage of animal exploitation. Meanwhile, the public have their questions answered by a circulating team. It certainly appeared effective when I photographed this cube in Cuba Street. There was a lot of interest and animated discussion from passersby.

Union picket

Picket-- a group of people outside a workplace or other venue protesting and trying to persuade others not to enter. There were a number of pickets last decade, particularly relating to fast food companies and their zero-hour contracts, under which workers had no guarantee of how many hours they worked each week. There were also pickets over increasing minimum pay or paying workers a living wage. Here, a Unite Union picket is held against Restaurant Brands on the corner of Kent Terrace and Pirie Street in Mount Victoria.

Destiny Church Rally

Rally-- a mass meeting of people showing support for a cause. This motorcycle rally was part of a campaign by Destiny Church to make the self-improvement Man Up program available in prisons. The rally began with the arrival of some Destiny members on motorcycles. Customary burnouts followed, and then the protesters moved onto Parliament grounds. Here's some photographs of the Destiny Church supporters that attended the rally.

Peace Vigil

Vigil-- a stationary, peaceful demonstration in support of a particular cause, typically, without speeches. This candlelit peace vigil was appropriately held outside the cenotaph to mark the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I on August the 4th, 2014. Vigils that night were held all over the motu by Peace Movement Aotearoa and also the Quakers.

Tuia 250 Protest and Flag Burning

Flag burning-- it does happen from time to time. The most well-known recent case was in 2007 when a New Zealand flag was burnt on Anzac Day by activist Valerie Morse. Her case went all the way to the Supreme Court, where Morse's conviction for offensive behaviour was quashed.

Here, activist Sharon Campbell, on the right, having burnt the New Zealand flag, is busy stomping on it in protest against a replica Endeavour which had just tied up on the other side of Tūranganui River in Gisborne. Speaking in the background on the left is activist Marise Lant, who helped lead this Tuia 250 protest at Tūranga.

Hunger strike

Hunger strike-- here's one very hungry climate action protester David Goldsmith 15 days into his hunger strike outside Parliament. He survived 21 days on water and vitamins, then handed over to another protester. And on the left supporting him is Molly Melhuish-- climate and energy policy activist.

School Strike for Climate Change

And this strike neatly segues us back to the major protests from last decade. This solo practice was not in New Zealand, but it was one of the most famous the last decade. This is Greta Thunberg about three days into her lone protest in August 2018 outside the Swedish Parliament.

Her sign reads, "School strike for climate". And the leaflets below simply say, "We kids most often don't do what you tell us to do. We do as you do. And since you grown-ups don't give a shit about my future, I won't, either. My name is Greta, and I'm in the ninth grade, and I refuse school for the climate until the Swedish general election."

She also posed this question-- what if a million schoolchildren skipped school for the climate and instead sat outside parliaments and town halls? That would carry an enormous weight and be talked about worldwide. And it was. In 2019, some of the biggest protests in New Zealand's history took place under the School Strike 4 Climate New Zealand banner. What's more, they were organised by teenagers.

That year alone saw three schools' climate strike protests in Whanganui-a-Tara And there was also the massive Extinction Rebellion protest in October, which locked down parts of Wellington for a day.

The first school strike protest in March saw around 20,000 students demanding action from politicians to prevent climate change. And despite the huge amount of media attention leading up and during the protest, it was overshadowed by the tragic mosque attacks on the same day. Here's some photographs from that first protest.

In May 2019, thousands of students again marched for climate action. This person here in the front is Sophie Handford, then 17 years old. Later, she also helped mobilise more than 170,000 people for the third major climate protest in September. That demonstration was New Zealand's largest protest ever. Here's several images from that May protest.

Rangatahi protesters on Parliament grounds. And the march also featured the Pacific Climate Warriors, a Pacifika grassroots youth network, which led the protest to Parliament grounds that day.

Other climate protests

Other climate protests that year included street performances by Extinction Rebellion-- in this case, on Cuba Street during the CubaDupa festival-- and also this, the longest-running protest on Parliament grounds.

For a hundred days, climate change activist Ollie Langridge set himself up on Parliament grounds during the day, demanding politicians declare a national climate emergency. When I took this photograph, Ollie-- he's on the right-- was running his company using his phone and laptop while protesting at the same time.

And ongoing to this day are the Fridays for Future Aotearoa New Zealand climate protests. These are held on Parliament grounds every Friday lunchtime.

Speaking in the background is Dave Lowe, one of our founding climate change scientists. Lowe established the Baring Head air monitoring station in the early 1970s, and that helped prove climate-driven climate change-- sorry, human-driven climate change.

And incidentally, he also has a Nobel Peace Prize for his part in the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which received the award in 2007.

And finally, on December the 2nd, 2020, a climate emergency was declared by the Labour government. Here, climate activists watched the declaration on a laptop in Parliament grounds.

Womens’ March

Another large global demonstration that decade was the Love Trumps Hate Women's March of 2017. This was in response to Donald Trump's inauguration as US president. As you can see here, a dominant feature of the protest was the pink pussy hat inspired by Trump's misogynistic comments in October of 2016. The hats became such a popular craft activity that the USA reputedly ran out of pink wool yarn.

Here's a couple of images from that march. I spent ages trying to line up the sign with the Kate Sheppard green traffic sign, which is just hidden by that placard there, but no such luck. And incidentally, this sign is now in the collections of Te Papa. And here's a family with placards protesting on Parliament grounds that day.

Ihumātao Protectors

There were also a number of protests in 2019 over the proposed housing development of Ihumātao by Fletchers in South Auckland. Ihumātao and the surrounding area are Aotearoa's first gardens. And it is also the oldest continually occupied Māori village in New Zealand-- over 600 years.

In fact, this protest and occupation was a six-year-long struggle. It involved hīkoi like this one, petitions, court actions, visits to Parliament, and even a trip to the United Nations. Here, Ihumātao supporters are reaching the gates of Parliament back in March 2019.

And here is Pania Newton, the face of Protect Ihumātao, along with Green Party co-leader Marama Davidson. It was Pania, along with five cousins, who set up SOUL, or Save Our Unique Landscape, and then peacefully occupied the Otuataua Stonefields Historic Reserve. In this 2019 protest, SOUL and their Wellington supporters had submitted a petition to Parliament demanding the government intervene and stop the confrontation with Fletchers.

The last Ihumātao protest that year was notable for its use of social media to quickly rally support for the occupiers when the occupiers were served with eviction notices in late July. In Wellington, hundreds attended, almost spontaneously, the August day of action.

Here, you can clearly see the extraordinary spike of interest over Ihumātao via Google Trends for August 11, 2019. And here, a koha is being handed over for the occupiers of the Ihumātao. Some of the protests also occurred down on Bowen Street intersection. Out of view and off to the left, someone had chained themselves to a car parked in the middle of the road. And here's a group portrait of supporters at Parliament just after the protest had finished.

Black Lives Matter

In 2020, thousands of people gathered in our major cities to march in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. The killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis had enraged and energised protesters in the US and across the world. However, in this Wellington demonstration, protesters were not only honouring George Floyd's memory and Black Lives but also raising issues around Indigenous rights, racism, and the need for institutional decolonisation.

Here's some images from that protest. This demonstration was also the first major protest held under the New Zealand COVID alert level one guidelines.

Aestheics and components of protest

Activist protests in public use a variety of techniques and aesthetics to communicate and amplify their messages. Here's a quick look at some of those components of public protest.

Placards

So, let's start with the obvious-- placards. Placards are the most ubiquitous objects associated with civic protests, and they signal a unique, creative way to endorse or attack a social issue.

The do-it-yourself aesthetic of a bold, simple text and graphic design allow for a quick interpretation, while slogans often serve as barometers of social action or inaction. Increasingly, placards like these are being collected by cultural institutions, including Te Papa and Puke Ariki. Here's some examples from recent climate change demonstrations.

At times, placards can be straight to the point, serious, and, of course, humorous, and just plain bizarre, like these QAnon-inspired, conspiracy-driven signs at an anti-vax Federation – ah Freedom rally last year. Note the range of messages, both national and mostly international, and also the fact that all the placards had been professionally printed.

Banners

And let's not forget banners, easily the most significant visual sign in any protest involving collective marching. It's also one frequently captured by photographers, as it can dramatically set the context of a protest. The art is taking the photograph at the last minute and then-- the art is taking the photograph at the last minute and then moving out of the way very, very quickly.

Clothing

Clothing has often served as a powerful identification symbol to maximise visual impact. Take this random scattering of shoes on Parliament grounds. Each of these 579 pairs represents a New Zealander lost to suicide in 2016.

The shoes have travelled across the motu and arrived at Parliament in September 2017, on International Suicide Prevention Day. There were shoes for eight children aged between 10 and 14. 51 were for teenagers, and 70% of the shoes were men's.

I bet you never thought you would attend a presentation that discusses sanitary pads as an item of protest. So what's going on here? This was Aotearoa inaugural Slutwalk, a protest sparked by a Toronto police officer's remarks that women could avoid being raped by not dressing like sluts. The reference here to menstruating and productive/not productive labels references the Employer Association boss at the time, Alasdair Thompson, and his controversial comments on why women earn less than men.

"Women take more sick leave than men," Thompson told reporter Mihingarangi Forbes. "I know it's an awful thing to say, but it's true." The gender pay gap is due to women having monthly sick problems. Needless to say, Thompson didn't remain in his job for much longer.

And here's some stickers that mess with your mind. These are in a reference to the Five Eyes alliance, an intelligence sharing arrangement between the USA, UK, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. This was an anti-GCSB bill protest that marched from Cuba Street to Parliament back in 2013.

The body can be used as a canvas to literally draw attention to a social or political issue. In this case, a protester has covered her body in crude oil to highlight the opposition to fracking in New Zealand, while here, body paint is used to mock New Zealand's tourism's 100% pure campaign.

Masks-- this mask has come to symbolise broad protest over the last two decades after it was first used in the graphic novel V for Vendetta and its 2005 film adaptation. It's become a well-known symbol for activist groups like Anonymous, the Occupy Movement, and the Anonymous for the Voiceless, which has led to it being called, well, the Anonymous mask.

Flags

Flags are a potent protest symbol symbolising both belonging and defiance, and/or. And these two are especially allied to contemporary Māori protest. The top flag, of course, is the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. In 1989, Hiraina Marsden, Jan Dobson, and Linda Munn designed the flag to represent by Māori for Māori and to symbolise the fight for cultural autonomy and sovereignty, or Tino Rangatiratanga. Below that is the United Tribes flag, a flag selected and used by Ngāpuhi chiefs in 1834.

Over the last couple of years, I've noticed both these flags becoming common at protests, most recently with the Freedom of Rights Coalition and the Freedom of Choice marches or what is colloquially referred to as the anti-vax protests. It's a point not lost on one of the designers of the Tino Rangatiratanga flag, Linda Munn, who recently said, "I saw our Tino Rangatiratanga flag sitting side by side with that Trump abomination. I was quite dismayed. If you want to make a stance, go back to your whānau and get vaccinated."

Here, the Tino Rangatiratanga flag has been printed on clothing. And note in the background activist Valerie Morse to the left. And here, of course, both flags are flying at the 2011 foreshore and seabed hīkoi.

Effigy

An effigy is a roughly made model of a person that is often destroyed at a protest. This one of Prime Minister John Key featured at the Kiwis for Clean Politics demonstration in 2014. The pooh John Key is holding is probably a symbolic reference to the dirty politics made public in August 2014 by Nicky Hager's book, Dirty Politics. The book was based on thousands of emails and Facebook messages revealing right-wing blogger Cameron Slater's conversations with National Party members.

Here, a condom filled with water is about to hit an effigy of Donald Trump. Around 200 protesters had gathered outside Parliament to unwelcome the US Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, who had arrived in Wellington for talks. The protest was also a direct response to Trump's decision to pull out of the Paris Climate Accord.

Incidentally, when Rex Tillerson drove through Wellington, the US media contingent was surprised by the hostile reaction of the Wellingtonians. "I've never seen so many people give the finger at an American motorcade as I saw today, Gardiner Harris, The New York Times Washington correspondent, told Stuff.

Not all effigies are meant, or are, destroyed. This one depicts our most famous conscientious objector, Archibald Baxter. It was found tied to a post in Frank Kitts Park on Anzac Day in 2016. The effigy references Field Punishment Number One, an incredibly traumatic and, let's call it what it is, painful torture vividly detailed in Baxter's book, We Will Not Cease. Peace Action Wellington created the effigy to, quote, "end the romance of war and the militarisation of Anzac Day." This effigy is now in the collections of Te Papa, which you can just see in the background.

Costume

Like clothing, costume provides an effective way to highlight intended messages. Here, these activists in pig costumes, or onesies, are demonstrating outside a pork conference on Featherston Street in 2015. By the way, those hula hoops are not for play or decoration. In a fattening pen, a 70 kilogram pig is given about half a square meter of space, the diameter of a hula hoop. The pigs spend a few months in these fattening pens before being sent to the abattoir.

And I couldn't go past Herb. Dressed as a joint and advocating for the green fairies, these are people who grow and supply cannabis to those seeking pain relief. I often see them at parliamentary protests, but this was the only time he wasn't riding his Raleigh 20 bicycle dressed in a green three-piece suit printed with marijuana leaves.

Chalk

Chalking-- chalking is writing protest messages using chalk. It's tolerated in New Zealand and often found outside Parliament. More recently, in association with anti-1080 and anti-vax protests. Here anti-1080 protesters are chalking up outside Parliament. And these three protesters were supporting Dakta Green, who was being sentenced for running a Wellington cannabis cafe, hence the cannabis leaf chalked on the ground.

Chants and music

Another indispensable part of public protest are the collective chants. This one is from a teacher strike in 2018. Numbers in chants are especially popular, especially 2, 4, 6, 8. And like chants, music often accompanies protest. It can often motivate and inspire a commonality of expression, both emotionally and intellectually.

In Wellington, we have the Brass Razoo Solidarity Band, which has been performing at pickets and protests and community events for over a decade. Its originator, Don Franks, notes how playing breaks the ice at the start of a picket, especially if that picket's rather small. "We help to build a happy, militant mood." Now, it's highly unusual to carry weapons to demonstrations but common practice in Aotearoa New Zealand regarding Māori protest. Rākau, or traditional Māori weapons, add mana and emphasis to protest through the potent Te Ao Māori cultural values they represent and project.

Here a Tauranga Moana party toa are making their way to Parliament grounds with taiaha. And this Tauranga Moana protester has a huata, or long spear. This haka party with taiaha are at rest after their performances supporting the Ngā Pakanga o Aotearoa New Zealand Wars Petition to Parliament, which was delivered in 2015 in December.

Street theatre

Street theatre-- since the 1960s, street-style theatre has been a recognised protest tool that elevates social or political messages through symbolic action. While not as common today as it was in the 1960s and '70s, it is still an effective tool. Here, members of the campaign group Action Station single out KiwiSaver providers who had invested in armament production. For these performers, the lack of ethical accountability literally means that the KiwiSaver providers had blood on their hands.

Vehicles

Vehicles-- long gone are the days when you could literally drive up to the steps of Parliament, park your car, and protest. The last time that happened was when Keith Thurston sparked the parliamentary lockdown on Budget Day in 2016. He'd driven up to Parliament's entrance, set fire to his Ute, and then walked away.

This car was part of a 2013 anti-state asset sale protest. In this protest, the farmer leaves Civic Square in his tractor. This was part of a protest against North Island farmland, particularly on the East Coast in Wairarapa, being converted into pine plantations.

Colour

And let's not forget colour as a unifying theme for protesters. There's purple for midwives, green for farmers, and orange for Generation Zero.

Recent protests 2021

So where are we at, protest-wise, as we enter the new decade? Well, despite lockdowns, traffic lights, and COVID's ongoing civic disruption, protest is still taking place, as we know from recent events just minutes from this auditorium. Here's some notable Pōneke protests from this year and late 2021.

Trans rights

In July 21, a trans right rally of around a thousand people gathered outside Wellington Town Hall to protest against the Speak Up for Women group meeting. But the transgender supporters were mainly there to support and affirm our gender-diverse community and to acknowledge transgender rights as human rights. Here's some photographs from that evening.

Anti-Vax Protest and Parliament Occupation

Meanwhile, at Parliament grounds the same month, pro-Trump, pro-QAnon, pro-democracy reset, anti-vax, anti-mask, anti-mandate, anti-UN and Bill Gates protesters marched up and down Parliament steps, hurling abuse and insults through the doors and windows at reporters inside. It was a portend of what was to come.

In November and December last year, Brian Tamaki's Freedom & Rights Coalition held two large protest marches in Wellington. While it didn't quite reach the 50,000 attendance predicted by Brian Tamaki, hundreds did march. Again, here's some photographs from that December protest

Finally, I'll leave you with some images of signs and messages that came out of the convoy protest occupation of February, March this year, certainly, the most surreal protest occupation I've yet photographed, at times deeply unsettling and others more like a badly organised but joyous music festival. It had multiple interest groups, divergent goals-- desires for peace and kindness coupled with bizarre imagery, including threats of arrest and hangings.

The people I met and talked to were generous with their thoughts and opinions. Some were angry. Some just wanted to talk about their life experiences. Others-- well, it was impossible, for me, anyway, to believe their earnest conspiracy claims, like the occupier outside the cathedral who complained to me that the electromagnetic waves coming from the church tower behind them were giving the occupiers headaches and flu-like symptoms.

But there's some uneasy questions that need to be considered and addressed. Why were so many Māori involved in these recent protests? Why was there an almost pathological hatred for Jacinda Ardern? How do you deal with a group of people with no unifying leadership? And for us here in Wellington, how did a relatively unorganised group manage so successfully to gridlock a city for weeks?

The sign there reads, "Satan is Ardern's daddy". And this is looking from the forecourt of the National Library over towards Parliament. Some of the signs that they protest-- this was the early days of the protest, by the way.

Final thoughts

Thanks for listening and watching. And a big shout-out to the National Library public engagement team, particularly Tanja and Mark for facilitating this presentation.

Remember, protest is an essential Democratic right and a fundamental part of being an active citizen. You can use your feet or voice or costume, even your calligraphy skills, but maybe not just yet. The lawns need to dry out and sprout. And like the upside-down flag, this country of five million needs to work out how we turn the world the right way up again and collectively get on with our lives. Thanks very much Any pātai?


Transcript — E oho! Picturing protest and photographing dissent — Part 2

Questions

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: So thank you, Dylan. I'm just reading off the screen some of the questions. And someone's suggesting you should do a book. What do you think about that?

Dylan Owen: I agree. I'm too busy photographing at the moment.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: True. It would make a wonderful book, for sure. I'm interested in what got you interested in photographing protests.

Dylan Owen: My mic on? Yes. I think, visually, it's the intensity of protests. It's a dynamic event, as I said. And you're photographing people, and I love photographing people. But also, I think, to a large degree, protest almost-- some protest-- portends the future. So what happens now in protest will actually become actuality.

Homosexual legislation is a good example, like the protests around that, Springbok tour. So you're looking ahead in the future. Why people are protesting now becomes an eventuality in the future, often. The Pakanga o Aotearoa New Zealand Wars is a good example of that, the petition that went through.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Yeah, a lot of change starts with protest, for sure.

OK, here's a question. "Thanks for your presentation, Dylan. I've wondered what has been the protest that has stuck with you the most over your years of photographing dissent?"

Dylan Owen: Good question. Emotionally, I would say there would be two. And that was a Syrian protest against the bombing of Syrian Christians here in Wellington, protesting against the bombing of their churches in Syria. That was one that really emotionally got to me.

And another was a protest against institutionalised violence effected on tamariki, kids that were institutionalised back in the '60s, '70s. Now, a number of these people got up and had letters and spoke to the experiences. And it was pretty horrific and incredibly emotional.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: And another question. Have you ever been told to bugger off by protesters who took exception to being photographed?

Dylan Owen: Interesting question. No, not really. And I expected that when I attended the Brian Tamaki protests because of the often vitriol that was handed out to photographers. And in fact, I photographed a couple that were protesting against the Brian Tamaki protests, and they were beaten up later. But no, no one's ever come up to me and told me to bugger off.

They have come up to me and challenged what I was doing or asked what I was doing. And I say that these photographs will eventually, hopefully, will end up in the National Library. And they seem kind of interested in that and, not excited, but they thought that that was OK. I wasn't the media. I was something else, so it was OK.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Interesting.

Dylan Owen: Sorry, I should also add that I've been threatened with more-- with arrest by police than I have by protesters, apart from one incident.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: And is there an online gallery where people can see your photographs?

Dylan Owen: Yes, National Library. If you just go to the National Library website, I guess type in my name, and a few demonstrations will come up that you can have a look at at your leisure.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Cool. Personal question, when I look at your photographs, I'm impressed how close to the action you are. Sometimes it looks like you're right in front of the march or on a low viewpoint to get a good angle. So what is your advice for people wanting to photograph protests?

Dylan Owen: Oh, there's lots of advice, just from my own reflections. I use a 28, 35 mil lens, which means that I have to get up close. In the past, I used to watch Ans Westra demonstrations, and I copy from her. She uses a Rolex, and it's waist level, so she's very inconspicuous, and she gets those wonderful images by just going up close. So she doesn't present or thrust the camera in people's faces. And I'm very conscious of photographing people and not getting in their way. I'm just there to observe, in a sense.

So there's a cliché in photography circles. If you're not getting a good photograph, you're not close enough. But you do need to be close. So you need to be fairly I wouldn't say assertive but confident about your skills and what you need to capture. I'm not there to capture the heroic images. I'm there to capture just people and their responses to the protest, which is why I don't really tend to focus on, say, the politicians or the leaders. It's the people there that I'm interested in, in photographing, anyway.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: So I see a lot of grateful people out there thanking you for your talk and some suggestions about adding your photos to New Zealand history books, perhaps for schools.

Dylan Owen: That has been done. Some people have used my images in their books, yeah.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Fantastic. And maybe to finish off, there is one question about a process for you to deposit your work into the National Library collection. So that's quite relevant.

Dylan Owen: How do I go about doing it-- is that the question?

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Yes. If someone were (inaudible).

Dylan Owen: Well, I'm a bit behind, actually. Normally, I do it every year, but I'm running about four years late through a number of reasons. But I go through an editorial process. So for this last of the COVID occupation, I took quite a few photos of that and of different types, or different themes, within that protest. And I tend to keep those for a year.

I don't really do social media. I don't get them out straightaway. I like to look at them, think about them, and come back and refine them after about a year, just so they settle down, so to speak. So it takes a couple of years.

The editorial process takes quite a bit of time. It's easy with a digital camera to shoot heaps, but it takes a lot longer to edit them. So I want a number of images of protest to fully describe what happened at that time frame.

So I put them through. I think I take them to the curator or ask the curator if she'd be interested in having a look at them. And she sometimes says yes. And then they go through a process where they're assessed and also labelled and described, that sort of stuff, and then finally ingested. But it does take a long time. Because we're very busy, and we've got other things to do, so hence the delay. I hope that's answered the question.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: Thank you. So on that note, I would like to thank Dylan Owen once again for his wonderful presentation. And I'm sure he's also open to having questions emailed—

Dylan Owen: Happy to, yeah.

Tanja Schubert-McArthur: if you haven't answered any. So thank you very much for joining today. Please register for other events. Ka kite anō.

Dylan Owen:, Ka kite anō and have a lovely Easter everyone.


Any errors with the transcript, let us know and we will fix them. Email us at digital-services@dia.govt.nz


Documenting public protest

Since the early 2000s photographer Dylan Owen has been documenting public protest in Wellington. In this presentation he will share some of his images and detail how these hikoi, rallies and demonstrations communicate their messages of resistance or advocacy, often in ways unique to Aotearoa New Zealand.

This event will be delivered using Zoom. You do not need to install the software in order to attend, you can opt to run zoom from your browser.

Register if you’d like to join this talk and we'll send you the link to use on the day.

Register now

About the speaker

Dylan Owen is an experienced research librarian working for the National Library. Over the last three decades, he has documented how our lives are lived and expressed in the everyday of public spaces. Some of his photographs are held by the Photographic Archive of the Alexander Turnbull Library and available online through the National Library of New Zealand. His work has appeared in books and exhibitions, most recently ATL 100 exhibition Mīharo Wonder.

Check before you come

Due to COVID-19 some of our events can be cancelled or postponed at very short notice. Please check the website for updated information about individual events before you come.

For more general information about National Library services and exhibitions have look at our COVID-19 page.

Two people standing in front of Parliament. One has a Tino Rangatiratanga flag on as a cape.

Two protestors performing waiata and pūkana at the National Day of Action Ihumatao protest, Parliament Wellington August 2019. Photo Dylan Owen.