Analysis: New Zealand First’s 2026 campaign will target “everyday Kiwis” who feel frustrated with the way the world has changed around them.
For this slice of the population, New Zealand First offers the promise of equality and prosperity, a nationalist identity and conservative social politics. The campaign is the result of a five-year effort to cultivate an emotional brand for the party as well as a policy suite.
Party leader Winston Peters promised a richer, wiser country built on the back of a $1 billion push to set up a Norway-style oil and gas field, the profits of which would be used to make New Zealand great again.
Peters’ campaign launch speech touched on many of the party’s hot topics, some new, some well-worn: the Indian free trade agreement, the gene technology bill, the scourge of woke leftism and the villainy of neoliberalism.
Delegates at the event cited all these things as reasons they resonate with New Zealand First. Some, including a few 2026 election candidates, have come from Labour or National, drawn in by the only party they see remaining which appeals to everyday Kiwis and everyday common sense. It was a common refrain in candidate speeches and in delegate commentary.
But there’s another reason, they’ll tell you: New Zealand First is the only party having any fun. It’s a good, old-fashioned party in more ways than one.
At Auckland’s Due Drops Event Centre a record 350 delegates spent as much time enjoying festivities over the weekend as they did debating remits or listening to speeches. Even the venue itself offered a backdrop of excitement: Auckland’s Rainbow’s End looms just over the road, with roller coasters and drop towers dancing for the delegates out for a cigarette.
Party president Julian Paul says the lively atmosphere is by design: an attempt to shift the party towards a more energetic, exciting place, based on what he’s seen as a failure of other parties.
Paul says the way other parties present to their members is akin to a PowerPoint presentation, which isn’t what people want. “People want to get excited about something, people want to have hope and some positive kind of emotion,” he says.
People don’t vote for someone based on a specific policy, he says – they’re attracted to personality. “Vibe is very important to our leadership team, because that’s what draws people in,” says Paul.
New Zealand First isn’t the only party to notice. Act’s latest celebrity candidate Paul Henry took a similar approach on Sunday morning, saying on Q&A that what he’s trying to do is create an “aspirational vibe” to attract voters.
Henry has a history of offensive commentary, and has had to defend himself against claims of racism multiple times. The same could be said for many of New Zealand First’s candidates, often the same ones who provoke the biggest reactions from their loyal crowd, who say it’s New Zealand’s only true “free speech party”.
Paul says there’s more to it: “though we might get accused of tapping into some type of fury within the electorate, there’s actually a hope and constructiveness that we’re building on.”
Paul says New Zealand First is ahead of the competition, even if others are starting to take note. The pivot towards a more emotional experience started five years ago, culminating in its 2026 push for a historic back-to-back term in Government for the party.
The campaign launch is a crucial set piece for the party, something Paul says they’ve been designing for the last two years. “It has to be different,” he says.
Other parties open their conference with a karakia or a prayer; New Zealand First plays a cover of the national anthem backed by electric guitar.
The remit sessions and guest speeches on Saturday were riddled with commentary typical of a Shane Jones oration, the type defended by saying one was “just telling it like it is” while referencing demographic engineering, leftist conspiracy and fellatio. Delegates laughed and cheered and booed, and said the event felt like a family reunion.
If these tactics have enticed any Labour voters to jump to New Zealand First, Labour leader Chris Hipkins says “if they feel they have more fun being racist and sexist, then they can keep them”.
On Sunday, the crowd’s mood before Peters’ speech was one of concertgoers. As youth wing members told Newsroom about how the party felt uniquely familial, a relaxed and friendly space you wouldn’t find at a National or Labour conference, a contingent of Pasifika voters on Peters’ left flank spontaneously broke into song, waving the New Zealand flag. “You’re not getting that anywhere else,” said an audience member.
Soon after, Peters took the stage in a blaze of pyrotechnics, a stage which – the night before – was strutted by a team of Vegas-style showgirls, dazzling their audience with three acts, including one with disco ball headpieces. A delegate in the men’s restroom said he hadn’t seen anything like it since the 1980s.
“They weren’t cheap,” joked Paul the next morning.
Aaron Maxwell, a 15-year-old member of the youth wing, said it was a great time: “I haven’t seen any other parties have such an extravagant performance.”
Peters knows how to put on an extravagant performance of his own. After 33 years, he’s a virtuoso conductor: he knows when to throw in an extra “sausage eater” jab to extend the laughs from his audience. He doubles, then triples down, on the menace of Indian immigration, winding the crowd up before offering his exclusive salvation.
Some of the biggest cheers come during his biggest announcement: $1 billion to explore subsurface oil and gas in New Zealand waters.
Peters packages this in the party’s classic nationalist wrapping. Eventually, half of the profits from these operations will be returned to the public in a Norway-style sovereign wealth fund. It’s announced alongside reminders of how expensive and unfair the world feels at the moment, and how insecure the fuel supply has been coming through the Strait of Hormuz.
It’s a promise of transformative wealth, sitting just on our doorstep – but only New Zealand First has the nous to make that promise a reality. Only New Zealand First has the principles to keep that wealth from being captured by the elite.
“We will find those energy reserves, we will extract them, and what we find, we will use to make our country prosperous again,” he says.
A focus on emotional messaging is part of the party’s strategy around members’ bills, which Paul explained to Newsroom earlier this year: introduce a members bill on a topic their base cares about – like transgender bathroom access – publish a media release on it, then withdraw it and submit another. It makes their base feel heard and seen, and makes the party feel active.
Peters refers to these topics in his speech, orchestrating the crowd through jeers, laughs and whoops of enthusiasm. He promises to fight the “woke nonsense” threatening their way of life, just like he fought the perils of neoliberalism three decades ago.
Peters leaves the stage to a standing ovation of 800 people, said to be as many as could fit in the parking lot before it filled up. Most of them are older, but the party has a growing youth wing and no shortage of energy.
Youth wing chairman Keegan Langaveld has been involved since 2019, and chairman since 2021. This year, his conference outfit is a double breasted suit à la Peters. His conference sentiment is matching, as well; he knows how important it is to feel at home in the party, and to enjoy the work they’re doing.
“Vibes are always high at one of our conferences. Everyone has a good time. I’ve never come across someone that’s not enjoyed a New Zealand First Conference. It’s just a family reunion kind of thing – all we’re missing is a barbecue,” he says.
The mood leaving the venue is one of jubilation, and the vindication of finally having a politician who tells it like it is: someone who can truly represent the anti-establishment views of this slice of the population – even if it’s that politician’s 33rd year running the same lines.
