Done with Destiny — The honest thoughts of a takatāpui wahine

After seeing the footage of Brian Tamaki’s ManUp team violently storming the Te Atatū Library recently, we feel compelled to share some thoughts about what happened.

As a proudly takatāpui wahine, within a team led by members of the takatāpui community, it’s imperative that we talk about what happened and provide some much needed analysis on the circumstances that would allow such lateral violence to occur.

If you missed the news, Brian Tāmaki called for a children’s event to be shut down by members of Destiny Church during the Pride Festival. They blockaded the library, harmed multiple Council staff, members of the LGBTQ+ community and members of the public. They created an environment of fear and then attempted to stop the Pride parade with a haka. It was a horrific display of violence targeting the most vulnerable members of an already vulnerable community.

Truthfully, many faith-based communities have brought meaning and beauty into the lives of many, including people in our own whānau. But the harm that Destiny Church has caused, under the guise of faith, is beyond justification.

If we don’t talk about what’s really going on, then we become complicit in allowing this violence to happen again.

So let’s go there: There is no Destiny Church without the far-right.

The term far-right refers to a specific set of ideas about the world. They often include a belief that there is a rigid social hierarchy, with some people at the top and others (from marginalized backgrounds) at the bottom. They are intolerant of diversity and tend to scapegoat minority groups, blaming them for society’s problems. They try to incite fear and division within communities, often through conspiracies and disinformation. There is a clear rise in the far right groups, in the USA, Europe and here on our own whenua.

So how is it that here in Aotearoa, a predominantly (and intentionally branded) indigenous presenting religious group such as Destiny Church / ManUp able to publicly demonstrate such an appalling upchuck of far-right vitriol? And, importantly, why would they?

The answer is simple: This is a tactic straight out of the far-right playbook.

The idea is to find disenfranchised people and incite lateral violence towards each other. If one minority is fighting with another, then they won’t have the time, energy or resources to challenge their own lack of power in the system you create for them.

Enter Destiny Church.

For a long time, Tamaki has used language and leadership styles that appeal to people and turn them against people in their own communities. Takatāpui have always been a part of Te Ao Māori and yet, Destiny Church calls on its members to protest our own people based on their gender or sexuality. Instead of challenging the real cause of peoples problems, like the rise of the ultra-wealthy driving the cost of living, Tamaki deliberately creates distractions that serve his far right agenda.

To be clear: Takatāpui, trans communities and drag performers are not the reason that many of us are struggling to afford to live.

Dr. Emmy Rākete does a great job in this article explaining that when governments stop providing the things people need to live full, dignified lives, then groups like Destiny Church step in and promise safety and security if they attack gay people, trans people and left-wing social movements.

We have a Coalition Government that is culling jobs, defunding the public services, giving tax breaks to the biggest landlords and allowing huge corporations to make mega profits from the basics we need to survive — they are actively creating the conditions that give people like Brian Tamaki more power.

So what can we do, to turn the tide on hate?

One of the most significant things that can help is taking tangible actions to feed our sense of community. Sometimes this can look like reaching out to others, creating space for joy and consuming LGTBQ+ media and music.

Our team has pulled together a list of things that we think might help others who are asking themselves what we can do in the wake of these events — let us know if we’ve missed something!

Reach out to your takatāpui, LGBTQ+ friends and whānau

This can look however you feel is best — invite them round for dinner, send them a kind message, head to an event together etc. The best thing we can do right now is let the people that you love, know that you love them.

Support those affected

Send a donation to the drag performer who was targeted by Destiny Church — Hugo Grrrl — shout them a coffee here!

Attend an event

Keep an eye out for pride events in your area, take your friends and whānau along to show your solidarity!

Sign a petition

Join the thousands of people who are holding Destiny Church’s violence to account and calling on them to have their charitable status revoked here.

Stay connected

In times like these, it can be really easy to assume that distance and time will heal all wounds, but if there’s one thing that the LGBTQ+ community has taught the world, over and over again, it’s that joy will always win over hate.

To give a personal example, I have an uncle who is openly homophobic — I blocked him from social media years ago. But my Mum (his sister, who has become quite the ally in her later years), frequently sees his anti-queer posts and will put a little rainbow in comments, or says “Love is Love” on everything he shares. Over time, he’s stopped posting as much, even if his attitude hasn’t changed significantly — his expressions of hate have reduced.

These small acts are a reminder that she stands in solidarity with me and my queer cousins. She uses her privilege to remind him that his bigotry isn’t going unnoticed or without consequence. She can love him and disagree with him at the same time. And that’s the kind of solidarity that slowly erodes someone’s rigidity.

So whether your solidarity is a loud proud proclamation or a condescending cheeky wink, make it known, make it kind, make it joyous and ultimately, make it queer. But over all — do what’s best for you, your safety and your wellbeing.

I’ll leave with this whakataukī:

He pōkeke uenuku i tū ai (a rainbow appears brightly amidst the dark, gloomy clouds).

Nei rā he mihi aroha,

Rangimarie, otirā, te tīma o ActionStation

[Rangimarie Sophie Jolley is a writer and Te Tiriti Justice Campaigner within the ActionStation team. To learn more about ActionStation and the work we do, sign up here]