The Whiteness of So-Called Progressivism in Settler Colonial Aotearoa: Virtue Signaling and the Erasure of Human Rights Violations in India
The Whiteness of So-Called Progressivism
Oct 11, 2026

Progressive
Foreign Policy and the 2026 Election, hosted by Te Kuaka and the New Zealand
Fabian Society, Auckland, October 2026. The panel: Teanau Tuiono (Green Party),
Vanushi Walters (Labour), Daniel Eb (The Opportunities Party). Source: NZ
Fabian Society recording.
On a Friday evening in October 2026, four
candidates from the parties of the progressive opposition spent three hours in
Auckland building a principled foreign policy for Aotearoa. India is never
mentioned. Neither is Hindutva, Modi, the BJP, the RSS, caste, Kashmir, Indian
Muslims, Islamophobia, nor the free trade agreement with India that came into
force eleven days later. That same week Indian police were detaining protesters
in their thousands, cutting mobile internet in central Delhi, sealing Jantar Mantar
and hauling in opposition chief ministers and journalists, against a youth
movement demanding the resignation of a Chief Election Commissioner who has
presided over the deletion of more than 133 million names from the electoral
rolls. Amnesty International called it a blatant attack on the right to
assembly, and the UN Human Rights Office in Geneva called on India to release
immediately and unconditionally everyone arbitrarily detained. Labour's foreign
affairs spokesperson, who sat on Amnesty's international board, stood on that
stage and promised a human rights defenders programme, and no one in the room,
including her, said the word India. Three months earlier she had stood beside
Modi for a photograph and written that his visit marked a milestone in the
partnership between "our two democracies."
What is missing
Read the transcript end to end and the shape of the omission is unmistakable. Throughout the progressive dialogue among three mainstream parties that claim the progressive tag on foreign policy, there's not a single mention of India. Nothing on the India-NZ FTA, human rights abuses in India, Hindutva, Modi, the BJP, the RSS, the Sangh, Hindu nationalism, caste, Dalits, Adivasis, Kashmir, Indian Muslims or Islamophobia.
The free trade agreement, one of the most significant elements in New Zealand's foreign policy in 2026, is entirely absent from the conversation. The so-called progressive dialogue, replete with its performative human rights charade, has absolutely nothing to say on fascism or authoritarianism, words that attach to no government in Asia all evening except by implication to China.
The
word colonialism, in any form, about anywhere, is entirely absent, including the country they are
standing in, and nobody says Zionism or settler colonialism while committing to
sanction Israel. Te Tiriti surfaces once, as a mangled half-word inside a
summary of another party's positions, in three hours on what an independent
foreign policy for Aotearoa should be.
Against that, the roll call of what they do name runs a long way. Between them the speakers raise Kiribati, Tuvalu, Fiji, Tonga, the Marshall Islands, the Cook Islands, Niue, Solomon Islands, West Papua, Indonesia, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Taiwan, Ukraine, Finland, the Netherlands, Australia, South Africa, Africa, South America, the United States and China, and they work through the Treaty of Rarotonga, the High Seas Treaty, the crimes against humanity treaty, the Dublin Declaration, the Arms Trade Treaty, the UN Charter, Article 109, the Human Rights Council, the ICJ and the ICC. They track the Wellington FBI office, Project Arcadia, Black Sky's launch permits, Chinese debt in Tonga, the HIV emergency in Fiji, nuclear waste in the Marshall Islands, the frigate tender and the mould in the houses at Linton.
Nobody in that room was underbriefed and nobody was short of moral performativity.
India sits inside their geography and outside their concern, and so does every
word anyone would need in order to describe what India has become.
What was happening while they spoke
The silence would be easier to forgive if
India had been quiet. India was the loudest human rights story on earth that
fortnight, and the New Zealand state was in the middle of the closest economic
embrace it has ever had with the government responsible. Progressive activists and collectives in Aotearoa, including the Aotearoa Alliance of Progressive Indians have been raising consistently the awareness about the human rights abuses in India and the specter of Hindutva.
|
Date |
What
happened |
|
27 Apr 2026 |
New Zealand and India sign the free trade
agreement in New Delhi. Todd McClay signs for New Zealand; Christopher Luxon
attends. |
|
11 Jul 2026 |
The Kia Ora Modi rally fills Spark Arena
in Auckland. Outside, Khalistan supporters, Free Palestine protesters and
anti-immigration activists holding "remigration now" signs are held
back by police. Labour MPs are inside. Walters accompanies Chris Hipkins to a
bilateral with Modi and posts a photograph of herself beside him, calling the
visit a milestone in the partnership between "our two democracies." |
|
24 Jul 2026 |
Amnesty International India's board
chair, Aakar Patel, calls Delhi's invocation of the National Security Act
against protesters "an affront to human rights": detention for up
to twelve months, grounds withheld for fifteen days, no lawyer before the
advisory board. |
|
17 Sep 2026 |
Parliament passes the FTA's implementing
legislation, 93 votes to 29. National, ACT and Labour vote for it. New
Zealand First, the Greens and Te Pāti Māori vote against. |
|
21 Sep 2026 |
New Zealand ratifies the agreement. |
|
2 Oct 2026 |
Amnesty condemns a "blatant
attack" on the right to assembly as the electoral-roll protests spread.
The national president of the All India Students' Association, Neha Bora, is
detained in New Delhi. |
|
early Oct 2026 |
Protests run across most Indian states.
More than 133 million names have been removed from the rolls since 2025; in
West Bengal alone around 9 million, roughly 12% of the electorate. The
Supreme Court demands transparent answers from the government. |
|
the
debate |
Three
hours of progressive foreign policy. India: zero mentions. |
|
10 Oct 2026 |
Delhi is locked down. More than 2,000
detained in the capital and around 400 in Mumbai; mobile internet cut in the
central business district; dozens of metro stations closed; Jantar Mantar
sealed; Mamata Banerjee, Arvind Kejriwal and Pinarayi Vijayan detained, along
with five journalists including a Reuters reporter. The UN Human Rights
Office issues a statement from Geneva the same day on mass detentions of
demonstrators, protest leaders, civil society members, lawyers and
journalists. |
|
20 Oct 2026 |
The New Zealand–India free trade
agreement enters into force. |
|
7 Nov 2026 |
General election. |
The protests are led in large part by young
people, by the student unions and by the Cockroach movement that took the slur
thrown at it and wore it. They are being met with mass preventive detention,
communications blackouts and the National Security Act. This is the standard
material of an Amnesty urgent action, and it was unfolding in real time, in the
world's largest democracy, in the weeks when Aotearoa's progressive parties
were asked on a public stage what a principled foreign policy would look like.
How the silence is built
The silence on India is part of the architecture of what passes as progressivism in settler colonial Aotearoa.
The Pacific frame comes first, and Teanau Tuiono states it plainly and states it well: "I'm team Pacific, not team China or team US. You know, I'm I'm even wearing the shirt people." Vanushi Walters makes a resilient and peaceful Pacific her first priority.
Marco de Jong organises the questions around the Pacific Islands Forum, Rarotonga, deep sea mining, West Papua, militarisation. Daniel Eb reaches past the region entirely, to Finland and the Soviet Union, for his analogy.
The
Pacific is the correct priority for Aotearoa, and in this debate it also
quietly sets the outer limit of the territory in which Aotearoa is understood
to have relationships, obligations and complicity. Asia enters only as China,
and China enters only as a security problem. South Asia does not enter. The
same frame that makes Tonga's debt and Fiji's HIV crisis visible as our
business turns the Indian Ocean world into somewhere we merely sell things to.
The register of international law does the
second part. Walters builds her platform on it and her credentials are real:
Amnesty's international board, the Human Rights Commission, community law,
shadow attorney-general. She will recognise Palestine, sanction Israel, join
South Africa's case at the ICJ, seek an advisory opinion on autonomous weapons,
add gender apartheid to the crimes against humanity treaty, stand up a human
rights defenders programme, advocate for democracy in Myanmar. Every item on that
list is serious, and the list has a grammar. Violations are discrete events
that states commit and that courts and treaty bodies afterwards name, which
leaves a ready slot for Myanmar, where the adjudication has happened and the
junta sits outside the circle of respectable partners, and no slot at all for
India, where the violation is the ordinary working of an elected government
whose trade minister Wellington has just signed with. Legalism can see a coup.
It struggles with a popular ethnonationalist movement that takes a state
through elections, courts, police and media, because such a movement never
presents itself as a breach. It presents itself as a majority, and legalism has
no instrument for a majority.
Designating a single Asian authoritarianism
completes the job. China appears thirteen times, as missile testing in the
Pacific, deep sea mining in the Cook Islands, debt in Tonga, the thing the GCSB
and SIS are always eager to brief on, the pretext for the Wellington FBI
office, the point of Project Arcadia. Tuiono's critique here is the sharpest
thing in the transcript: the agencies are loud about China and mute about the
United States, and an independent foreign policy has to be independent of both.
What he does not ask, and nor does anyone else, is why the roster of Asian
powers requiring scrutiny contains exactly one name. India is running a
surveillance state, holding Kashmir under occupation, stripping Muslims of
documentation and the franchise, detaining students in their thousands, and
selling the whole arrangement to Wellington as fellow-feeling between
democracies. It draws no scrutiny in that room because it has already been
filed under democracy, and nothing in the evening's apparatus can move a country
out of that file once it is in.
"This is who we are"
Walters ends her opening with a cadence
worth slowing down over, because it tells you what the evening thinks foreign
policy is for:
It will feel different to have a Labor
government in place. It will feel different to have Labor in foreign affairs
and it will feel like New Zealand because this is who we are. This is who we
have been for decades. They have taken us down a path. We will come back.
The verb is feel, three times in three
sentences, and the thing that will feel different is us. A foreign policy is
being offered here as a restored sensation of national character, and the test
it proposes for itself is whether the country recognises itself again. What
Gaza will feel like, or Kashmir, or Delhi, does not enter the sentence. The
grammar puts the audience in the position of the one whose comfort is being
repaired, and puts the rest of the world in the position of the setting in
which that repair takes place.
The pronouns carry it. "Our"
attaches again and again to the speaker's own equipment and virtue, to our
values and our approach and our principles, our policy, our commitment, our
aid, our role, and to territory held in a kind of affectionate stewardship,
where the Pacific becomes "our neighbourhood" and "our backyard
and our front yard." What never arrives in three hours is our complicity,
our arms, our money, our trade, our silence. Tuiono gets closest, and does it
honestly, when he says of independence that "on the stage we do like to
talk about us being independent, but in practice we aren't," the one
moment all evening when the first person plural is turned against itself.
The modality is flatly declarative exactly where the stakes are lowest. Walters delivers her platform as an unbroken chain of we will: we will recognise, we will sanction, we will join, we will advocate, we will set up, we will protect peace, we will come back. The hedges arrive the moment anything would cost something. On defence she is "not the defence spokesperson," cannot "say where we would draw those lines" until Labour can "lift the hood," and on the frigates offers only that "it will be up for review."
On Pacific debt, the one
structural analysis she produces all night, she stops to say "I should
preface this bit by saying this is not Labour policy." On the hardest
question of the evening she says "I'm possibly not allowed to say any more
at this stage." Certainty is reserved for commitments that cost nothing in
Wellington; the conditional is wheeled out for anything a minister would have
to defend in office. India needs neither, having never surfaced at all.
The lineage Walters recites is a settler
pantheon: Peter Fraser and the UN Charter, Norman Kirk and the 1973 Springbok
tour, David Lange and nuclear free, Helen Clark refusing Iraq. Tuiono adds the
Springbok march down Queen Street, the bombing of the Rainbow Warrior, testing
at Moruroa, and says "these things shaped the identity of us as a
people" and "these are things that we should be proud of." These
are real and the pride in them is earned. They also function here as a
reservoir of moral credit to be drawn down in place of present-day action, and
the governments in the list did other things too: Kirk's government began the
dawn raids that Pacific families in that room remember, and the nuclear-free
decade was also the decade of Bastion Point and the land march and the
corporatisation that gutted Māori employment. A pantheon assembled without
those details is a pantheon designed to be comfortable.
"We will come back" is the
sentence that gives the game away, because coming back requires somewhere
virtuous to return to. Settler nationalism's characteristic move is to locate
the nation's goodness in the past, so that the present demands restoration
rather than transformation, and so that the question of whether the country was
ever what it remembers being never has to be asked. The word Tiriti is absent
from three hours of foreign policy debate in a country whose only serious claim
to an independent foreign policy runs through it. The identity being invoked is
the 1985 one, plucky and small and nuclear free, not the 1840 one. A country
that dates its character from Lange rather than from Te Tiriti has told you
whose country it thinks it is, and it has told you why a movement like Hindutva
cannot be seen from inside it: seeing Hindutva would require a foreign policy
grounded in an analysis of power rather than in a memory of how good we felt
about ourselves in the eighties.
Eb's contribution runs the same logic
through a different idiom. His party's offer is "stability," an end
to "this pendulum swing between the left and right blocks," and his
model of successful resistance to a great power is Finland, which survived, in
his telling, by making itself an "innovative conduit" passing Western
technology to the Soviet Union. Finlandisation is being admired here as soft
power. Under questioning he confirms the logic: his party would not oppose reinstating
the oil and gas ban but would not introduce one either, because "the
business case now no longer exists." Principle is converted into brand
management and then into market timing, and the brand needs a stable,
unembarrassing world to be marketed into. Naming the ethnonationalism of a
partner the country has just signed a trade agreement with is precisely the
kind of instability the offer exists to prevent.
Palestine without colonialism
Palestine is where the evening is at its
best. All three parties will recognise Palestinian statehood and sanction
Israel, Walters is already in touch with the lawyers running South Africa's ICJ
case, Tuiono has a sanctions bill sitting in the biscuit tin, and fifty
thousand people had marched in Auckland weeks earlier demanding exactly this.
The word genocide is used four times without a hedge anywhere near it. For a
mainstream political panel in a settler state, that is not nothing.
And across all of it the word settler
appears zero times, colonial and colonialism and coloniality zero times,
Zionism zero times. Apartheid appears once, attached to a gender apartheid
clause in a treaty negotiation rather than to Israel. Palestine is admitted to
this room as a breach of international law, a humanitarian catastrophe and a
question of recognition, and never as a settler colonial project of the kind
the people in the room are sitting inside. The omission buys something. Naming
Israel as settler colonial opens a question about Aotearoa that a Fabian panel
four weeks from an election has no appetite for, and it opens a second question
about who else keeps that project running.
Trace that second question and you arrive
at the hole where India should be. India is the largest buyer of Israeli arms
and the state that has absorbed Israeli surveillance into its own occupation;
Pegasus turned up on Indian journalists' phones, and doctrine moves between
Kashmir and the West Bank in both directions. Hindutva's intellectual line has
admired Zionism since Savarkar, and Indian government-aligned accounts were
among the loudest global amplifiers of the assault on Gaza. Committing to sanction
Israel without once naming the state that supplies its diplomatic cover in Asia
and buys its weapons is a commitment whose circuit the room has declined to
follow. Tuiono comes nearest, and gets there through space law rather than
through Asia, when he asks whether a payload launched from Māhia that feeds IDF
thermal imaging can possibly be in the national interest. The question is
exactly the right one. Nobody asks it of the trade agreement that took effect
eleven days later.
Vanushi Walters, and the credential that forecloses
Walters opens with what she calls her why,
and it is a South Asian story. She is a Sri Lankan New Zealander. When she was
twelve her mother told her about a journalist in Sri Lanka who spoke publicly
about human rights, knew in 1990 that the secret police were coming for him,
took a job with Reuters in Scandinavia, and was picked up the night before he
was due to fly; his body turned up the next day on a beach outside Colombo. The
transcript renders the name as "Richard Doya" and the account matches
the abduction and killing of Richard de Zoysa in February 1990. From there she
went to Amnesty International and onto its international board, then legal
practice, the Human Rights Commission, community law, Greenpeace, the refugee
council. She is now Labour's foreign affairs spokesperson and shadow
attorney-general.
A brown South Asian body is therefore in
the room, and it is in the room as biography. A death squad in Colombo
thirty-six years ago authorises a human rights vocation, and the vocation then
produces a foreign policy platform in which contemporary South Asia has no
political existence whatever. The story travels to the podium, certifies the
speaker's standing to talk about international law, and is retired; the region
it came from is never consulted about its present. Credential is the word for
what the brown body is doing in that sequence, and credential is what voice
becomes when a settler party finds a use for it.
Follow the platform's own sentences and the
foreclosure is everywhere in them. She will advocate for democracy in Myanmar,
while India purges Muslim voters from the rolls by the tens of millions and her
party says nothing. She will protect human rights defenders, while South Asia's
human rights defenders sit in Indian prisons under the UAPA, Bhima Koregaon
still unresolved, Kashmiri journalists held without trial. She will press for
the rights of women and girls and for gender apartheid in the crimes against
humanity treaty, and does not mention the Muslim women auctioned on Sulli Deals
and Bulli Bai, or the sexual violence of Manipur. She says Labour "will
not use racist comments" and "will not be divisive" in its trade
relationships, a line aimed squarely at Winston Peters, delivered at an event
where the trade relationship most saturated with state-sponsored racism never
comes up. Each commitment is real. Each one stops at the border of the region
her opening story came from.
The Amnesty connection is what makes this
hard to file as oversight. Walters sat on the international board of the
organisation that, thirteen days after the Kia Ora Modi rally, had its India
board chair Aakar Patel describe Delhi's use of the National Security Act
against protesters as "an affront to human rights," and that, in the
days before she took this stage, condemned a "blatant attack" on the
right to assembly and said Indian authorities were trampling on human rights in
their crackdown on the electoral-roll protests. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty
have been documenting this for years and were documenting it that week. The
United Nations went on the record too. On 10 October, the day after this
debate, the UN Human Rights Office in Geneva said through its spokesperson
Thameen Al-Kheetan that it was concerned by reports of mass detentions of
demonstrators, protest leaders, civil society members, lawyers and journalists,
insisted that restrictions on peaceful protest must meet strict tests of necessity
and proportionality, called on India to show utmost restraint and to release
immediately and unconditionally everyone arbitrarily detained, and asked the
government to engage in meaningful dialogue on the concerns being raised.
Amnesty, Human Rights Watch and the UN human rights machinery were therefore
all saying the same thing in the same week, in the plainest possible terms,
about the country nobody on that stage could name. A human rights lawyer does
not need a briefing to recognise mass preventive detention, an internet
blackout in a capital city and the arrest of journalists. She needs a reason
not to mention them, and the reason is in a photograph taken three months
earlier.

Jenny Salesa MP, posting from inside Spark
Arena on 11 July 2026: "This is what around 12,000 people who are waiting
to welcome Hon Prime Minister of India, Shri Narendra Modi to Aotearoa New
Zealand at the Spark Arena looks like. The vibe was amazing." The post
tags Vanushi Walters, Damien O'Connor MP, Priyanca Radhakrishnan MP and Arena
Williams MP.
Her record belongs in the structure rather
than in a file of personal indiscretions. Walters was at Spark Arena on 11 July
2026 for Kia Ora Modi, and she was not alone: Jenny Salesa's own post from the
floor tags Damien O'Connor, Priyanca Radhakrishnan and Arena Williams alongside
her, four Labour MPs inside an arena of twelve thousand welcoming a prime
minister whose government the diaspora's anti-fascist organisers in this
country have spent a decade documenting. Two months later Labour voted for the implementing
legislation, with O'Connor explaining that "this is not the agreement that
Labour would have negotiated" and voting for it anyway. Hindutva's own
communication apparatus reads an appearance like that one exactly as it is
meant to be read, as a brown progressive in the governing party conferring
legitimacy, and the photograph keeps circulating long after the arena empties.
The silence on the Fabian stage and the attendance at the arena are one thing.
A party cannot name a movement it has been photographed blessing, and a
spokesperson will not be asked about it by a room that has no vocabulary for
the question.
Her trade paragraph contains the only moment in the whole platform where racism is named, and it is worth reading slowly. "We will treat them respectfully, which is not something I should have to say, but that is what it's become. We will treat our trade relationships respectfully. We will not use racist comments. We will not be divisive. It will be unacceptable in our government." The racism under discussion is New Zealand's, directed at a trading partner, and the reference is to Peters. So the entire anti-racist content of Labour's trade policy turns out to be a promise to be polite to India.
Racism practised by the partner
government, against its own Muslims and Dalits and Christians, has no place in
the sentence and could not be fitted into it, because in this grammar India is
a counterparty owed respect rather than a state open to assessment. The only
anti-racist position available on India becomes deference to the Indian state.
Hindutva's diaspora operation runs on precisely that equation, recoding criticism
of Modi as disrespect toward Indians and therefore as racism, and Walters hands
the equation over whole. Anti-racism ends up working for the free trade
agreement.
Democracy appears once all evening, when
she commits to advocating for it in Myanmar, and that single appearance tells
you how the category is being used. Democracy is something other countries
lack. India is assumed to have it, which is exactly the assumption that 133
million deletions put in question, and the question was being shouted in the
streets of Delhi in the days around this debate. Luxon's government sold the
agreement as a deal between the world's oldest and largest democracies, and
Labour did not contest that framing; it voted for the bill. Whether Walters
shares the framing is not a matter for inference, because she had already
written it down.
Walters promises consistency in terms
specific enough to test: "They will not be surprised at the positions that
I take in a room. They will be consistent and human rights based." Lay her
commitments against the severity of the violations they respond to and the
pattern does not hold. Lay them against the size of the domestic constituency
already mobilised and it holds perfectly. Fifty thousand people had marched in
Auckland for Palestine, and she will recognise, sanction and join the ICJ case.
Myanmar costs nothing, and she will advocate for democracy there. Killer
robots, gender apartheid in a treaty still being drafted, a review of the UN
Charter: no domestic price attaches to any of them. India carries a signed
trade agreement, one of the largest migrant communities in the country, an
organised wing capable of filling Spark Arena, and an election four weeks away,
and it gets silence. What predicts her human rights positions is not what is
being done to people. It is what saying so would cost. Human rights has become
a professional idiom here, fluent and sincerely held and bounded exactly where
the party's interests begin.
"Our two democracies"
Three months before the Fabian debate,
Walters posted her own account of meeting Modi. It is the most useful document
in this file, because it is not a photograph someone else took or a tag someone
else applied. It is Labour's foreign affairs spokesperson, in her own words,
describing the relationship she intends to carry into government.

Vanushi
Walters's own post during Narendra Modi's visit to New Zealand, July 2026,
tagging Chris Hipkins. Walters stands second from right, beside Modi; Hipkins
second from left. The post is scored to a track Facebook labels "Indian
traditional folk music."

Start with the four words doing the most
work. "Our two democracies." Not a democracy under assessment, not a
democracy in difficulty, but ours, held jointly, in the same first person
plural she reserves at the Fabian debate for the things she is proudest of. The
possessive binds Aotearoa and Modi's India into a single category and a single
moral community. Two weeks after she wrote it, Amnesty's India board chair was
describing Delhi's use of the National Security Act against protesters as an
affront to human rights. By October the UN was asking India to release everyone
arbitrarily detained. The category held through all of it, because categories
of this kind are designed to.
The word is not decoration, it is a sorting
instrument, and it sorts in advance of any evidence. A state inside the
category has its conduct reclassified as internal affairs, to be handled by its
own courts and its own voters, while states outside it get assessed, sanctioned
and raised at the Human Rights Council. Once India is filed under our two
democracies, the Special Intensive Revision becomes electoral administration,
two thousand detentions in a day become policing, a communications blackout
becomes public order, and the testimony of Indian Muslims and Dalits in
Auckland becomes politics back home. Walters never has to deny anything. The
classification performs the denial for her, in four words, in a caption, set to
music.
The music is worth pausing on, because the
post is scored, and Facebook records the audio as Indian traditional folk
music. A generic folk track is laid under a meeting with a Hindu nationalist
prime minister, and the caption opens with "a real pleasure."
Pleasure here, the vibe at Spark Arena, and "it will feel different"
on the Fabian stage: three statements of the same affective grammar, the
register in which Labour's foreign policy operation describes India to itself.
Hindutva's long project has been to render itself indistinguishable from Indian
culture, so that opposing the movement reads as disrespecting the culture and,
in a settler state, as racism. A caption that dissolves a bilateral with Modi
into traditional folk music is that project working exactly as intended, on a
human rights lawyer, in her own voice.
Set the post beside what she told the
Fabians and the contradiction is not subtle. There she rejected Peters's claim
that New Zealand must choose between its interests and its identity, and said
the country "must hold both its identity and its interest together,"
which is "more ethical, but it's actually also better risk
management." Her own post on India is interests alone. The relationship is
"sound trade and economic policy" and "a long-term investment in
New Zealand's future," and the free trade agreement is "another
significant step." Identity, the thing she would not let Peters trade
away, does not appear in the paragraph, and neither does a single qualifying
clause. The test case arrived in July, the principle lost, and three months
later she restated the principle on a stage as though it had never been put to
the test.
The last sentence is the one the diaspora
reads hardest. "Our people to people connections are also thriving, with
Indian New Zealanders making an outstanding contribution across business,
healthcare, education, science, public service, and the arts, enriching
Aotearoa in countless ways." Indian New Zealanders appear as contributors,
itemised by sector, valued for what they add to the host country. Settler
multiculturalism has no purer statement available to it: a community rendered
as an economic and cultural asset, undifferentiated, with no politics of its
own, and then offered up as a reason to deepen the relationship with the
government that is striking some of their relatives off the electoral roll. The
community becomes the warrant for the partnership. Muslim, Dalit, Sikh,
Christian and Kashmiri New Zealanders sit inside that sentence only as unnamed
members of a body being thanked for its contribution, and being mentioned that
way is not easy to tell apart from being erased.
This should be read not as one member's misjudgement, but as the platform of the New Zealand Labour Party.
She is there to "accompany Chris Hipkins," which makes it the leader
of the Labour Party and his foreign affairs spokesperson at an official
bilateral, with the post tagging Hipkins himself. Labour voted the agreement
through in September. Outside the arena on the same visit, police were holding
back Sikhs who fear the Indian state, Palestinians whose cause Walters will
take to The Hague, and far-right activists demanding remigration, three
constituencies Labour claims to speak for or to stand against, all of them on
the footpath while the MPs were inside. Nothing in the platform she delivered
in October acknowledges that any of it took place. Her silence at the Fabian
debate therefore records something other than a gap in her knowledge of India.
It maintains a position she had already taken in public, in writing, under her
own name, and has never withdrawn.
The community Labour went to find
A party that decides to engage the Indian
community in Aotearoa has first to locate it, and the addresses available in
Auckland are largely the ones Hindutva has spent thirty years building: the
temples it has influence over, the cultural associations, the Hindu Council,
the HSS, the youth wings, the business networks, the community media and the
WhatsApp groups that carry an election message faster than any party can. Those
organisations made themselves the door, and they did it patiently, through festivals
and language classes and youth camps and grant applications, which is the
ordinary work of any community body and is also, in this case, the work of
building a political machine. A party walking through that door does not
experience itself as endorsing anything. It experiences itself as showing up
for a community, and the photograph taken on the way in does the rest.
Behind that door stands a particular India
and not the others. Indian Muslims are not in Spark Arena. Neither are Dalit
and Ambedkarite New Zealanders, nor most Sikhs, nor Indian Christians, nor
Kashmiris, nor the Tamil left, nor the trade unionists, nor the students who
came here on the visas the agreement expands and who will not say what they
think while their families remain reachable in Uttar Pradesh. For a Dalit New
Zealander whose parents left caste violence behind, the Indian community as
constituted at that rally is the thing they emigrated from, reassembled under a
New Zealand roof with four Labour MPs in the seats. For an Indian Muslim in
Auckland watching relatives struck off the rolls in Bihar, the footage of those
MPs cheering carries a precise message about where they sit in the party's map
of the electorate.
The erasure runs twice over, and the second
turn of it happens here rather than there. A Muslim voter deleted from an
Indian electoral roll loses the franchise in India. A Muslim New Zealander then
loses the standing to be heard about it in Aotearoa, because the settler
state's multicultural apparatus has already handed the microphone for their
community to the people who want them gone, and because the progressive parties
take their reading of the community from whoever answers the door. Caste makes
the problem concrete: caste is not a prohibited ground of discrimination under
New Zealand law, so a Dalit worker in Auckland facing it has no way to describe
the injury in terms the system will accept, and the Human Rights Commission
that Walters once served has no category to put the complaint in. The injury is
unspeakable in the legal register and unspeakable in the political one, and the
people carrying it are then described as a community that has no issues.
Walters's own formula for them, an outstanding contribution across business,
healthcare, education, science, public service and the arts, is what having no
issues sounds like when a party says it warmly.
These communities are not quiet. They
organise, they publish, they petition, they turn up; they were on the pavement
outside Spark Arena in July while the MPs were inside, and they have been
documenting Hindutva in this country for more than a decade. The problem is not
silence but the absence of anyone obliged to listen, which is a property of the
listening apparatus rather than of the people trying to speak through it. A
foreign policy debate convened explicitly to widen the democratic mandate for
foreign policy, held four weeks before an election, in the week of the largest
protest crackdown in the world's largest democracy, built a platform in which
not one of them has an address.
The trade horizon that skipped India
Walters's trade paragraph is where the
structure shows through most plainly. Labour will "look at the trade
horizon in a decade's time and invest in our current partners," will
"treat them respectfully," will "look at trade horizons
including in Africa and South America," and will look to "weightless
digital trade." A ten-year trade horizon for Aotearoa, delivered without
the words India or free trade agreement anywhere in it. Africa and South
America, with which this country trades comparatively little, are named as
horizons. The agreement signed in New Delhi on 27 April, legislated on 17
September with Labour's votes, ratified on 21 September and in force on 20
October, the largest realignment of New Zealand's trade policy in a generation,
is raised by no candidate, by the chair, or by anyone in the audience, eleven
days before it took effect.
Compare that with how the evening handles every other economic relationship. Chinese debt in Tonga is named as a sovereignty problem. Eb names chequebook diplomacy as the thing militarisation follows. Tuiono tracks Project Arcadia's supercomputer, the Wellington FBI office, five eyes dependency, the price of interoperability, Black Sky's launch permits and the GCSB advice that arrives as a black page. These are people who follow a procurement chain to its political consequence, repeatedly, for three hours.
The one chain nobody follows runs from a trade agreement with an
ethnonationalist government, through Crown and council funding of that
movement's affiliated organisations here, to the surveillance and harassment of
Indian Muslim, Dalit, Sikh, Kashmiri and leftist communities in Auckland. Te
Kuaka's own opening device, that foreign and domestic policy cannot be
separated, is the exact instrument that would follow it, and it is pointed only
at the Pacific.
The Greens voted against the agreement, and the terms of their opposition are their own indictment. Steve Abel told the House the party opposed the deal "on economic grounds, not racial ones," and worried aloud about the effect of cheap New Zealand butter on India's smallholder dairy farmers. Concern for Indian farmers is decent and the disclaimer is the point: the only party to vote no went out of its way to confirm that its no had nothing to do with what the Indian government is.
Even
the opposition to the FTA was conducted in a register engineered not to see
Hindutva, which leaves the entire New Zealand Parliament, government and
opposition together, without a single sentence about the character of the state
it has just bound itself to.
Whiteness, and the refusal to witness brown politics
Two of the three candidates on that stage
are people of colour, and the tangata whenua and Pasifika presence in the room
runs deep. Tuiono speaks of his mother the cleaner and union delegate, his
grandfather the railway worker who migrated from the islands, the Springbok
tour march down Queen Street when he was six, Ponsonby and Grey Lynn before
Pacific families were pushed out to South Auckland. Whiteness here is not a
count of the bodies on the panel. It is the shape of the frame they are all
speaking inside, which decides in advance which struggles register as politics
and which register only as culture, and that frame works perfectly well,
sometimes best, when brown people are the ones doing the talking.
Settler states have a long-established
method for managing the political life of their brown migrant communities, and
the method is multiculturalism. Communities get funded, consulted and
celebrated as cultures, through festivals and heritage months and ethnic
community grants and community liaison roles, and they are never engaged as
holders of political positions about the states and movements they fled or
fight. Crown money reaching Hindu Council of New Zealand and HSS NZ programmes
demonstrates it precisely: the state can process Hindutva as Hindu culture
deserving support, and has no apparatus whatever for processing it as fascism
requiring a response. Progressive parties inherit that apparatus intact. When
they want to be good to Indian New Zealanders they attend the festival, pose
with the community leaders, and accept as representative whoever presents
themselves as representative, which in Auckland means accepting the
organisations that Hindutva has spent thirty years building.
Read the transcript on Indonesia and the double standard is unmistakable. West Papua is named repeatedly as a human rights crisis demanding UN access and PIF pressure; Walters cites the hundred thousand displaced and the escalation in extrajudicial killings, and Tuiono says it is raised with him constantly across the Pacific. No reluctance at all about naming a large Asian state's occupation of an indigenous people, so long as that people is Pacific and therefore inside the circle of kinship.
India's
occupation of Kashmir, the dispossession of Adivasi communities, the pogroms
and the lynchings carry no such claim, because the brown diaspora of South Asia
is positioned in this country as a culture to be included rather than as a
people whose politics Aotearoa is implicated in. An indigenous struggle becomes
legible to these parties when it is Pacific. A brown anti-fascist struggle
elsewhere stays invisible even when the people carrying it are sitting in the
audience.
The blindness also costs this gathering the
thing it says it most wants. The evening is organised around the problem of the
far right in power: Peters's racist outbursts, the Trump alignment, a coalition
that reshaped foreign policy with no mandate, aid cuts, the inward turn.
Hindutva is the most organised, best-funded and most electorally successful
ethnonationalist movement on the planet, it has branches in this country, a
media operation, charitable status and Crown grants, and it had twelve thousand
people in Spark Arena in July while anti-immigration activists demanded
remigration on the pavement outside. An analysis of the global far right that
cannot see it has located fascism in white men and will go on being surprised
by where it actually turns up. The same frame explains the absence of Te Tiriti
from three hours of foreign policy debate in a country where Te Tiriti is the
constitutional ground of any claim to independence, and the parties that cannot
name Hindutva are the parties whose Tiriti commitments remain declarative.
What the diaspora is left holding
Dr. Arama Rata beautifully and powerfully closes the panel by saying the evening
was "about exposing the limits of where our progressive politics are"
and that "there's a lot of space to the left of what the policies are that
we're currently being presented with." I very much agree with her, and the limit she has
in mind runs along class and the military. Building further on the concept of the limit invites us to trace the erasure that runs
along the colour line of the world, and it decides which brown people's
struggles count as struggles at all.
For Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan, Nepali, Kashmiri, Dalit, Muslim, Sikh and Christian communities organising against Hindutva in Aotearoa, an evening like this one sets out the terms of their inclusion. Their presence is welcome as a story of origin, as a human rights biography, as a face on a list, as a community to be visited at the festival. Their analysis is not welcome, because the programme has nowhere to put it. They are asked to vote for parties that will sanction Israel and recognise Palestine, which they want, while those same parties fill four seats at the Modi rally, vote through the trade agreement, take their census of the community from Hindutva's own organisations, and stay silent while Delhi detains two thousand young people in a day.
The ask is that they treat
anti-fascism as something that applies abroad and stops at the Indian border,
and what they are offered in return is representation without voice. Three
hours of a progressive foreign policy debate, in the week of the largest
crackdown on protest in the world's largest democracy, produced not one
sentence they could take home.
Questions these candidates should be made
to answer before 7 November:
•
Ms Walters, you wrote in July
that Narendra Modi's visit marked a milestone in the partnership between
"our two democracies." Do you still describe India that way, after
133 million deletions from the electoral rolls, two thousand detentions in
Delhi in a single day, and statements from Amnesty International and the UN
Human Rights Office?
•
You sat on Amnesty
International's board. Amnesty says Indian authorities are trampling on human
rights in their crackdown on the electoral-roll protests. What is your
response, and why did none of it reach the Fabian stage?
•
You told the Fabians that New
Zealand must hold its identity and its interests together. Your own account of
the India relationship is trade and investment alone. Which of the two
statements is Labour's position?
•
Will you name Hindutva as a
far-right movement operating in Aotearoa New Zealand, in the same breath in
which you name the Free Speech Union, Remigration NZ and Winston Peters?
•
Will you review Crown and local
government funding to Hindu Council of New Zealand, HSS NZ and affiliated
organisations, and apply to them the standard you would apply to any white
ethnonationalist group seeking public money?
•
The agreement is now in force.
What human rights mechanism attaches to it, and will you raise the SIR
deletions, the CAA, Kashmir, the UAPA detentions of journalists and academics,
and the anti-conversion laws with Delhi?
•
Will you extend the Israel
sanctions logic to India's arms and surveillance trade with Israel, and audit
which New Zealand launch, data and research partnerships feed that circuit?
•
Will you protect diaspora
critics of Hindutva here from transnational repression, and does your human
rights defenders programme cover them?
•
Mr Hipkins: you were in the
room for that bilateral and your foreign affairs spokesperson tagged you in the
post. Is "our two democracies" the Labour Party's description of
Modi's India?
Sources
•
India:
Concerns over mass detentions before and during protests — UN Human Rights
Office (OHCHR), Geneva, 10 October 2026, statement by spokesperson Thameen
Al-Kheetan; also posted by @UNHumanRights
•
UN presses India over
crackdown on voter-roll protests — TRT World
•
India:
Authorities trampling on human rights in crackdown on electoral roll protests
— Amnesty International, October 2026
•
India:
Delhi police must facilitate right to peaceful protest amid lockdown-like
restrictions in capital — Amnesty International, October 2026
•
India:
Invoking of extraordinary detention powers amid Delhi protests is an ‘affront
to human rights’ — Amnesty International UK, 24 July 2026, quoting Aakar
Patel
•
India:
Crackdown on peaceful protesters in New Delhi raises serious human rights
concerns — Amnesty International, July 2026
•
Amnesty
Decries ‘Blatant Attack’ on Right to Assembly Amid Crackdown on India Election
Protests — Common Dreams, 2 October 2026 (133 million deletions; detention
of AISA president Neha Bora)
•
India
detains thousands, locks down Delhi to foil election chief protest —
Business Recorder, 10 October 2026 (2,000+ detained in Delhi, ~400 in Mumbai,
internet suspension, journalists and chief ministers detained)
•
What
to know about nationwide protests in India over voter list changes — NPR
via GPB, 6 October 2026 (SIR scope, Cockroach movement, West Bengal deletions)
•
Thousands
welcome Modi at Auckland rally as protesters gather outside — 1News, 11
July 2026 (Kia Ora Modi at Spark Arena; Khalistan, Free Palestine and
“remigration now” protests outside)
•
More
than 10,000 expected to welcome Modi in Auckland — RNZ
•
India
trade deal brings unlikely allies together in Parliament — Farmers Weekly
(party votes; O’Connor and Abel quotations)
•
India
free trade agreement edges closer after Parliament passes legislation — RNZ
•
New
Zealand–India Free Trade Agreement — signing 27 April 2026, third reading
17 September 2026 (93–29), ratification 21 September 2026, entry into force 20
October 2026; to be replaced with MFAT and Hansard records
•
Vanushi Walters, Facebook post
on accompanying Chris Hipkins to meet Narendra Modi, July 2026 (reproduced
above; original URL and exact date to be added)
•
Jenny Salesa MP, social media
post from Spark Arena, 11 July 2026 (reproduced above; original URL to be
added)
•
NZ Fabian Society, Progressive Foreign Policy and the 2026
Election (video recording; header image above)
•
Te Kuaka and New Zealand Fabian
Society, foreign policy debate transcript, supplied as The Fabian Society Debate and the Foreign Policy Agenda
