Few political allies were ever closer to Georgina Beyer than pioneering Labour MP and fellow Rainbow Caucus member Tim Barnett. Writing exclusively for express, Tim reflects on the extraordinary political presence of his close friend, Georgina Beyer.
How can words do justice to a human force of nature who lived an extraordinary life, delivered powerful messages with conviction and impact, and was at the heart of crucial Kiwi law reforms around sex and sexuality through the past quarter century? She had the snarl of a Tina Turner (or maybe Tina has the snarl of a Georgina), the presence of a film star, and promoted complex political values born of her Māori and rural roots and experiences combined with the reformist zeal of the Clark Labour Government and her own gender journey.
Georgina Beyer made her last global appearance (by video) at the opening of Sydney World Pride on February 24th 2023. She died on March 6th, and was cremated the very next day. Although she had been both lower profile and unwell for the past decade and a half, her death still came as a shock to many. She exuded life, she was still relatively young, and her image still lingered in media and online. Inevitably, immediate attention turned to her signal achievements – changing her gender and unleashing a powerful new identity, being elected a mayor then Member of Parliament in rural Wairarapa, bringing to Parliament and the public stage a rare eloquence which spoke directly from her lived experience. So what can we learn and understand from her journey?
I was born a few months after Georgina. I met her the week she was approached to stand for Labour in Wairarapa, she joined me in Parliament in 1999 as one of our three-strong Rainbow Caucus, and – after quite a political and campaign journey together – I spoke to her the day before she died. The shock of that was profound. Thankfully, I have written this, having had just a little time for reflection.
All politicians have a moment in their careers. If we are particularly good or lucky, the moment can stretch through months or even years. Georgina’s moment in the political sun was lengthy – it went on for maybe a decade, from when she was elected as Mayor of Carterton in 1995 until she returned to Parliament as a list MP in 2005. In that period, she went through phases – winning a mayoralty and then a rural seat rarely represented by Labour, being the world’s first transgender MP, being the eloquent voice for the decriminalisation of sex work and recognition of the equal status of same-sex relationships, sharing the anger of Māori communities and many politicians at the handling of the Foreshore and Seabed issue, and morphing back to the entertainment world she loved in Dancing with the Stars. She entered Parliament when she was at peace with herself and her multiply-faceted identities, and had proved she was electable. Once in Parliament, Georgina achieved something which few “celebrities” who enter Parliament manage. She retained her celebrity aura and made it relevant to her new environment.
Words and stories were Georgina’s lifeblood, and it is in stories that I think we see her depth and qualities shine through.
Georgina was a true old-school politician. Off-the-cuff oratory, media and close relationships were her style of communication. She knew what many of us have never fully realised, that e-mails win no awards and generate no memories. So when, as Government Whip, I was told by Parliamentary Services that one of the Labour MPs in my team wanted “that large box” (the desktop computer) removed from her desk because it was getting in the way since she hadn’t used it in 7 years, I didn’t need to ask who they were talking about.
Georgina was unafraid. Her response to the 2004 march on Parliament by the Destiny Church – an event with uncanny and unnerving parallels to images of pre-war Nazi rallies – was to confront those who had marched in the most direct of ways, to challenge them to their faces to question why they were there, to challenge the Tamaki attempt to brainwash them.
Georgina was enigmatic. A week out from the final vote on Prostitution Law Reform she had changed her mind and was opposing it, having fallen victim to a persuasive snake oil merchant of a lobbyist who claimed that all sex workers were victims of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. A week later and back in support of the Bill, her flowing rhetoric in the debate was key to firming up support. Ever one to understand the power of the camera angle, she shifted seats to sit next to me as the final result was announced – and helped create the image of the vote as we embraced in celebration of the win.
Georgina knew the power of the word. My favourite from endless examples was the candidates meeting in Wairarapa when someone heckled her “Where’s your penis?” The sharp retort: “It’s in a jar on the mantelpiece. Where’s yours?”
Georgina had that rare magnetic presence. Pre-pandemic, she lived near us in Wellington and would call in to our home regularly. One day she was there when our neighbours also chose to call in. She mesmerised them in that unexpected encounter with her grace, her stories and her openness. It was in moments like that one reflected that the world could have been at her feet.
Georgina was decisive, but her decisions were not all good. I think she got bored with sameness and was always seeking new challenges. She thought from the heart and not the head. Her departure from Parliament illustrated that. Off the back of Dancing with the Stars, she was offered the chance to co-star in a Fortune Theatre Dunedin production of 6 Dance Lessons in 6 Weeks. She decided this was her chance to move on to a new career, she quit Parliament without negotiating the usual appointments to public bodies to ease the financial impact of leaving, and then she walked out of the theatre production two days before it opened, saying, “I bit off more than I could chew!”
I remember advocating for her to become an international human rights ambassador, to promote and exemplify all that was special about the human rights journey which she and Aotearoa New Zealand had gone through, but the moment had passed, and that was not to be. Her years after Parliament were very tough.
Of course, there are so many more stories. So much more analysis to be attempted. So much more reflection to be had. Georgina really was unforgettable. Powerful. Principled. Inspiring.
Go, girl!
“Kaore te aroha ngau kino I roto ra. Ki tehoa ka riro.”
Alas, the bitter pain which gnaws within
For the friend who has gone.
Tim Barnett was an openly gay Labour MP from 1996 to 2008. Since then he has worked in three countries around development and poverty issues. He now lives in Darwin, Australia.
