The McGillicuddy Serious Party
McGillicuddy protestors. Photo: Stuff.
You’re not alone if you find chatting about politics either tiresome or a snooze fest. Luckily for you lot, New Zealand politics hasn’t always been a bore! The McGillicuddy Serious Party were a satirical political party that kept kiwi elections colourful throughout the 80s and 90s. These kilt-wearing jokesters built the foundations of their party on impracticality and absurdity, ultimately aiming to guide New Zealand towards, “The Great Leap Backwards,” into the Middle Ages. The history of the Mcgillicuddy’s reminds us that while it is important to make informed decisions about who we want calling the shots, it’s therapeutic to muck around and have a laugh.
This story of extraordinary political triumph begins at the University of Waikato, where in 1978 a group of students united to form Clan McGillicuddy. Upon establishment, they anointed Graeme Cairns, who would later attempt to dodge the 1986 census by insisting he was, “possessed by a four-million-year-old spirit,” as Laird McGillicuddy. It wasn’t until the early 80s that the guild set their sights on politics, expanding Graeme’s role to include the responsibility of party leader for the newly named McGillicuddy Serious Party. Graeme dipped his toes into the local scene early on, running for Mayor of Hamilton in 1983 and 1986 to no avail, unfortunately. By the 1984 General Election, the Laird of Hamilton and his candidates were ready to throw their hat, or more fittingly their tam o' Shanter, in the ring.
Being the groundbreaking revolutionaries they were, it took some time for the general public to become open to their policies such as connecting the North and South Islands by bulldozing the Southern Alps into the Cook Straight or abolishing money in favour of chocolate fish and sand. Upon their debut at the 1984 election, they received just 178 electoral votes but weren’t discouraged. Word of Laird McGillicuddy’s innovative ideas soon spread across the nation and the party clocked in 9,918 votes in 1990, turning the tides of kiwi politics one election at a time.
"It's kind of a pastoral dream about what we could achieve if we just relaxed and took things less seriously."
While their first three elections had been less than kind to the Mcgillicuddy’s, the 90s marked their golden age as they hit their stride. The 1993 Tauranga by-election was boycotted by all major parties, leaving the McGillicuddy Serious Party with an opportunity to strike while the iron was hot. Greg Pittams contested the seat, donning a sporran and advocating for the outlawing of brussels sprouts, carrots, kiwifruit, potatoes, and turnips. As it turns out, the good people of Tauranga were fans of his anti-vegetable agenda. Greg received 2.15% of the votes, which made him the runner-up to Winston Peters and got the ball rolling for a soon-to-be historic run for McGillicuddy. Due to finishing second in the Tauranga by-election, the party accidentally managed to qualify for broadcast funding ahead of the 1993 general election. Previously they’d funded their electoral costs through concerts and Graeme Cairn’s ukulele band, ‘Big Muffin Serious Band.’ With taxpayer money now funding their tomfoolery, many citizens reportedly weren’t appreciative of what their taxes were going towards, according to former McGillicuddy Serious Party president Mark Servian.
Regardless, Graeme Cairns and the Mcgillicuddy’s capitalised on their momentum and set forth on their mission to de-throne Jim Bolger and the National Party. This time around, they introduced policies such as raising the school leaving-age to 65 (as a jab at Parliament who raised it from 15 to 16), abandoning male suffrage on the centennial anniversary of New Zealand achieving women’s suffrage, and allowing post-natal abortion i.e. making abortion illegal but giving mothers the right to kill their child as long as they’re under 18 – quite the unique proposition to piss off both sides of the abortion debate. They also upped their marketing game, running their television ads during children’s programming while proposing to limit voting rights to just minors. This all proved to be a success, as the McGillicuddy Serious Party reeled in 11,714 electorate votes (0.61%) and stood 62 candidates. While not nearly enough to knock National off their peg, progress was being made. The 1996 general election saw much the same as it featured 65 McGillicuddy candidates and the party received 12,177 electorate votes (0.59%). Funnily enough, leader Graeme Cairns sat at #65 on their party list.
Graeme Cairns (centre), leader of the McGillicuddy Serious party, performs in Kaikoura. Photo: Supplied to RNZ.
Computing systems weren’t the only thing in jeopardy at the turn of the century as 1999 was the last year of political relevance for the McGillicuddy Serious Party. Now fifteen years past inception, newer recruits began to see the party as a means of challenging the political system in an anarchist manner rather than just joking about like initially intended by the founders. This uptick in seriousness plus a growing imbalance in their work-to-fun ratio according to Mark Servian led to the downfall of the party. In classic McGillicuddy fashion, party deputy KT Julian put on a front in explaining the reason for their departure from politics, saying that, "If we are so massively wrong [about winning the election], then we won't have the cred to stand again. But we won't do any more elections anyway because we're anticipating the destruction of industrial civilisation.” As it turns out, public interest in the kilted clan was waning. The party dropped to 3,633 electorate votes (0.18%) in the 1999 general election and promptly decided to de-register as a political party. Like any good captain, Laird Graeme Cairns went down with his ship, planting himself in mediaeval stocks where party members pelted rotten fruit at him.
"The bitch-goddess's eunuchs got arrested during some street theatre, and then we crucified Santa Claus in the Christmas parade, so yeah things got a bit out of hand in that campaign.”
After years of painful radio silence from the former political powerhouse, a McGillicuddy Serious Party press-release surfaced announcing intentions to contest the 2005 election. Unfortunately, this was the doing of a former member and the party did not make a grand return to give Helen Clark a run for her money. The Mcgillicuddy’s never took shape as a party again but did have a singular candidate, Steve Richards, stand in the 2008 election and receive 259 votes contesting the West Coast-Tasman electorate. However, that marked the end of the road. While the political dream may have died, the McGillicuddy Clan still occupied cities all across the nation through The McGillicuddy Highland Army, the Clan’s pacifist warfare branch. Armed with what one can only presume were the most dangerously painless weapons found in Oceania, these foam sword swinging warriors rivalled Alf’s Imperial Army, which was founded by the Wizard of New Zealand. Their most notable clash took place in Oamaru on the 31st of December 2007, where the McGillicuddy Martians brought the fury to Alf’s Imperial Army in a War of the Worlds inspired battle. The last known feud these mighty combatants served in was the defending of Castle Almond in 2013 against the local pacifist Waitati Militia.
Other Wacky McGillicuddy Policies:
● Implement beer as a National Defence strategy. Leave bottles on our beaches so attacking armies would give up and get on the piss (the broken bottles would also work as a repellent).
● Free castration for all.
● Give trees the right to vote. There were debates over the status of shrubs and whether native trees should be given the option to vote in Māori electorates.
● Gradually and secretly wipe New Zealand off maps to ensure that no-one can invade us (seems to be in progress).
● Restrict the speed of light to 100 km/h and 50 km/h in Mt Roskill.
● Enforce compulsory homosexuality for a third of the population to stick it to the bigots.
● Fix accountants in concrete and use them as traffic barriers.
● Sort the male population into breeding stock and lifting stock.
● Build ginormous mirrors in space to “melt the polar ice caps and destroy all of the foolish greed-worshipping cities of man in one stroke, thereby returning man to the sea, which he should never have left in the first place” (also seems to be in progress),
● And, of course, break all promises.
