by Josiah Brown, Maxim Institute
New Zealand is a melting pot, so what happens when the moral values of government collide with those of its citizens? What happens when the rubber meets the road, or more aptly, when the paint hits the pavement as it has recently?
At least two potential hate crimes have been committed in the past few weeks. Police are investigating graffiti vandalism that “on the face of it . . . is consistent with a hate crime”.
Three members of Destiny Church were charged for defacing a rainbow crossing in Gisborne, while another pleaded guilty this week to vandalising the rainbow crossing on Auckland’s K Road. Several ministers rightly condemned these incidents as illegitimate and costly expressions of opinion.
Yet a comparable protest occurred at Te Papa Museum last December when activists painted over the English text of the Treaty of Waitangi. Four months later, the exhibit at Te Papa has not been restored or removed. The museum decided to leave it up to encourage honest conversations.
Contrast that with the immediate action taken to repaint or restore the crossings, and one begins to wonder why essentially the same protest action gets different treatment.
If painting over a rainbow crossing is a hate crime, what about burning an Israeli flag — as was done in Auckland — or attacks on a synagogue in Christchurch? Then again, maybe what matters most is not consistency but the cause.
It would even seem that some MPs from Te Pāti Māori and the Green Party approve of protest vandalism, with photos on social media showing members triumphant in front of the defaced exhibit. Interestingly, one of those same MPs described the K Road vandalism as “frankly embarrassing”.
Here’s the underlying question: Should the government in a modern, secular society take or promote what are essentially religious positions on moral issues where different communities within that society disagree?
Are rainbow crossings installed at public expense consistent with New Zealand’s secular principles as a country that, according to legal scholar David H. Griffiths, “does not favour the religious beliefs of any particular group,” which we view as our national ideal?
Some will contend that the promotion of LGBTQ matters is not religious, but that depends on how you define “religion”. It is, at the very least, an ethical stance grounded in a particular set of values and vision of the good. Different communities will inevitably disagree — in a tolerant society, we should be able to “agree to disagree” about these questions. But when a government openly takes sides or pushes an agenda on these questions of ethics, division arises and tolerance dwindles. Those in power tend to wield it against those who see things differently.
There is always a dominant ethical vision in any society; one that not everyone agrees with. To that extent, the ideal of a truly neutral, secular state is an illusion.
However, the question remains: how do we allow this disagreement to play out, and how will we treat those who do not subscribe to the prevailing worldview?
