Reigniting Politics

My Opinion on this

I included the video because when I first saw it, I got goosebumps—I almost even got emotional. And honestly, I think that was the whole point of it. The haka, performed by Maipi-Clarke and other Māori MPs, was a powerful statement, and it’s disheartening to see so many criticisms of it, especially from people calling it unprofessional or unnecessary. Some even claimed it was an act of retaliation, as though it was a petulant response to not ‘getting what they wanted’. I think anyone who thinks this way is deeply misinformed.

This moment wasn’t just a spontaneous act of defiance—it was a reclaiming of space. Across the world, Indigenous communities have been violently marginalized and erased from their own lands, often in the name of progress, development, or colonialism. As a British person, it’s impossible to ignore the role that the UK—specifically, the British Empire—has played in this long history of exploitation. Resources were stolen, cultures were decimated, and native peoples were forced off their land. The legacy of this imperialist mindset still echoes today, and it’s clear that these issues are far from resolved.

For the Māori MPs, this haka wasn’t just a protest against a political decision—it was an embodiment of their identity and an affirmation of their right to be heard. The Māori have long struggled for representation and self-determination, and this haka was an act of resistance against any attempt to undermine that. It’s particularly significant because it was led by a young woman, something that feels especially empowering. In a space often dominated by older, more established male voices, seeing a younger Māori woman take the lead with such passion was a stark reminder that the fight for justice and cultural preservation doesn’t have to come from tradition alone—it can come from the next generation.

But let’s also take a moment to reflect on the larger context. The Treaty of Waitangi, which the New Zealand government has renegotiated multiple times, has always been at the heart of the Māori struggle. The principles of the Treaty were meant to ensure equity, but over the years, the implementation has been inconsistent, and the Māori people have been sidelined. The debate around Te Aka Whai Ora, the Māori Health Authority, and the reinterpretation of the Treaty’s promises is another reminder of how the Māori are still fighting for what should have been guaranteed decades ago. This haka isn’t just about one bill or one protest—it’s about generations of struggle against a system that, at its core, still refuses to fully honour the Treaty.

It’s also important to note that this haka wasn’t just about the Māori MPs themselves. This was a moment for all Māori people, for all Indigenous peoples around the world. The performance of the haka in Parliament was a message to the government, but also a signal to Māori communities everywhere that their voices matter. It was about reclaiming a cultural practice that has been used for centuries to assert strength, unity, and resistance in the face of adversity.

Critics who call this unprofessional fail to understand that what they’re seeing isn’t just a political protest. They’re witnessing a cultural revival—an act that connects the present with the past. In a world where so much has been taken from Indigenous peoples, the haka is a powerful declaration: we are still here, and we will continue to fight for our rights and our culture.

If anything, the haka is a reminder of the power of resilience, of the strength of Indigenous communities who have faced centuries of oppression and yet still stand tall, still fight, still perform—louder and stronger than ever. This was a statement of survival, not defiance. And, frankly, anyone who dismisses it as ‘unnecessary’ or ‘over the top’ needs to understand the weight of history that’s behind it.

The Welsh Senedd, officially known as Senedd Cymru or the Welsh Parliament, is the devolved legislature for Wales. Established in 1999, it gained increasing powers over time, including control over health, education, and transport. Unlike the UK Parliament, which holds elections every five years, the Senedd elections are typically held every five years, aligning with the standard electoral cycle of devolved administrations in the UK. However, the timing can vary slightly due to circumstances like the 2021 election being delayed by the COVID-19 pandemic.

The Senedd’s proportional representation system, using an additional member voting method, ensures a more balanced representation compared to the first-past-the-post system used in Westminster. This allows smaller parties and independent candidates a greater chance of winning seats, fostering a diverse political landscape in Wales. The Senedd comprises 60 members, with 40 elected directly in constituencies and 20 allocated through regional lists. This distinct electoral setup reflects Wales’s unique political and cultural context, reinforcing the importance of regional governance and identity.⁵

My Opinion on this

Two opinions in one post? Well, I’m not sorry. When it comes to Nigel Farage, I just can’t hold back.

Farage is the kind of figure that makes you cringe, not just because of his politics, but because of his entire approach. I personally can’t stand the man. Sure, putting my personal feelings aside (which is hard), the reality is that Reform UK, the party he’s backing, is a far-right, xenophobic mess. Farage has spent years stirring the pot with anti-immigration rhetoric, feeding into the paranoid, disillusioned sections of the public who would rather blame people looking for a better life than take a long, hard look at the greedy politicians and businessmen who are stealing from their pockets.

And let’s not even get started on his party’s identity crisis. Constant rebranding, from UKIP to the Brexit Party and now Reform UK, raises many questions about its long-term vision and credibility. Political success requires more than catchy slogans and inflammatory rhetoric—it demands coherent policies and a commitment to improving citizens’ lives. Yet, Reform UK’s track record suggests it thrives on division rather than unity, offering simplistic solutions to complex issues. The one time the first-past-the-post system worked to the public’s advantage was in the 2024 general election, where, despite garnering nearly 4 million votes, Reform only won 4 seats.

But now, he’s setting his sights on Wales in the 2026 Senedd election. And while I have faith in the Welsh people—they’re generally no strangers to progressive movements—there’s a worrying trend. Labour has been struggling with its leadership, and Wales, with its rural, predominantly white communities, could be a fertile ground for Farage’s divisive politics. The Welsh electorate has traditionally leaned toward Labour or Plaid Cymru, but if people are disillusioned enough, they might be tempted to vote for “change,” even if that change comes wrapped in nationalist, xenophobic packaging.

I’m not denying that Labour has had its flaws, and there’s a need for revitalisation in Welsh politics, but can we really afford to replace progressive politics with the likes of Farage? When we look at the contrast between the Greens, who push for social justice and sustainability, and Reform UK, which thrives on fear, bigotry, and backward-looking policies, it’s hard to swallow. One offers a future where we’re all equal, and the other fuels division. The fact that these far-right parties can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with left-wing parties in terms of seats is a glaring issue.

I may be biased as a left-leaning person, but there’s no way to justify a party that builds its platform on racism, nationalism, and exclusion. Farage’s whole pitch is based on “taking back control,” but who’s really in control here? It’s the same people who are hoarding wealth, avoiding taxes, and deflecting blame onto the most vulnerable. The Welsh should be wary of this rhetoric, especially with Farage now targeting their Senedd seats. This is a litmus test not just for Wales, but for the UK’s future.