The Enemy Within

The Enemy Within by Maire Leadbeater. Potton & Burton (2024). RRP $40.00. PB, 250pp. ISBN: 9781988550657. Reviewed by Allan McEvoy.

Activist, author and social worker Maire Leadbeater’s latest nonfiction book The Enemy Within is a first rate exposé of Aotearoa New Zealand government-sponsored intrusion into the lives of social activist movements and its lasting effects for those targeted. 

Leadbeater illustrates how successive governments over the past century utilised police and security services to monitor individuals and groups whose ideas and activities fell outside their boundaries of what was deemed ‘acceptable,’ whether from conflating unionism with the ‘evil’ of Communism, to casting anti-racist and climate change activists as threats warranting surveillance.

A portion of the book draws on personal experience, as Leadbeater’s own family was targeted in this way and, when she was 10, the SIS opened a file on her. She herself remembers being raised in an environment steeped in lively engagement around social justice issues, by mother Elsie Locke, a children’s author, historian and activist in the feminism and peace movements, and father Jack Locke, a leading member of the Communist Party. Both wanted their offspring to seek participation in societal change for the betterment and fair treatment of all New Zealanders, ‘where individual and collective needs are in harmony.’

An extensive amount of research along with engaging stories drawn from her family’s own experiences, including those of her late brother, former Green Party MP Keith Locke, paints a sobering picture of the motivations amongst politicians and police throughout the 20th century. Activity on her parents included informants being infiltrated into the groups they belonged to, meaning that one could never be sure who was a true friend and comrade and who might be a government agent or police informant. That unknown agents might steal into your home and search for incriminating evidence must have taken a huge toll, and Leadbeater mentions that the monitoring of Elsie in particular was ‘intense’ to the point of overkill, and included surveillance of many personal areas of her and her family’s life that had no political significance and certainly posed no threat to the state.

Brother Keith was also targeted from childhood. As the Locke children grew older, their gravitation toward areas of social justice invoked more in-depth surveillance of both themselves and the groups they belonged to. In a 1971 SIS file note, Keith and a colleague were noted to have ‘fitted Yale locks in their rented home and office premises’ due to their awareness of some of the government’s surreptitious surveillance methods. Surveillance continued even when he was elected as a Member of Parliament, and he was described in a 2013 joint SIS and GCSB induction document as ‘being a threat.’

Leadbeater also delves into strikes, times of war, and social conflicts, which elicited sometimes contrary actions from government agencies charged with protecting New Zealand’s national security. During World War Two, conscientious objector John Chalmers offered to pay his own passage to England to engage in the civilian service ‘available there to conscientious objectors.’ The government declined the offer, instead interning him at taxpayer expense in a ‘defaulter’s camp.’

The ongoing exiling by police and security forces of Sāmoans who dared question the moral justification or legality of the 1914–1936 occupation of Sāmoa, and the brutal actions of New Zealand police in Sāmoa on ‘Black Sunday’, 28 Dec 1929, is covered, as is communism, that big bogey after the Bolshevik takeover of Russia, triggering increasing levels of internal spying on citizens with left-leaning political views. As well as conscientious objectors, penal reform advocates and those seeking to have the death penalty abolished also came under scrutiny. 

Post-1945, Leadbeater highlights ongoing monitoring and political interference of those identified as presenting potential risk, covering the eras of Vietnam protest, anti-nuclear campaigns, Springbok tour opposition, climate activism, and green politics. Much weakened unions, along with left-wing groups and political movements, and possible Islamic threats, were also regarded with suspicion. It’s striking, and dismaying, to see just how many of the activists targeted appear to be singled out because of seemingly petty and vindictive reasons, with individual career options impacted by security assessments based more on innuendo than fact. 

Scandals brought on by ineptitude of government agents are also touched on, illustrating the kind of political interference that Muldoon exercised. In response, former New Zealand Conservative Party founder Ross Meurant was quoted as saying, ‘Personally, I believe Muldoon unashamedly used the police in a cynical political initiative of dividing the nation.’

Alongside the desire of services to align with international partners like the ‘5 Eyes’ nations, the book delves behind the cloak of secrecy that encapsulates state security agencies, too often insulating them from public scrutiny. Also discussed are Aotearoa’s international security involvements, our ongoing engagement in these arrangements, and the potential for internal impacts, such as extensive surveillance of citizens, arising from these external alliances.

Leadbeater demands an end to this kind of surveillance, acknowledging the trauma caused for victims of such spying and their families. She notes that Sedition, defined in the Crimes Act of 1908 as ‘an intention to bring into hatred or contempt, or to excite dissatisfaction against the Crown or the New Zealand government,’ is a vague appellation. Its meaning changed over time as perceived security concerns arose from ever-evolving sociopolitical norms and suspected threats, of situations requiring monitoring of increasingly disparate groups. Despite the inadequacy of its definition, a case is clearly outlined for SIS activity to be confined within what is legal—with wider awareness and accountability for New Zealanders who find themselves in the situation of being under surveillance, and a clear call for the New Zealand police and court system, ‘with their built-in accountability procedures’ to manage much of what secret services have previously carried out. 

The Enemy Within is an eye-opening book, as well as easy to read, highly educational about factors that affect all New Zealanders, and academically sound. Even when shining a light on aspects of dubious government overreach, it’s an enjoyable experience and a must-read for activists and students engaged in political, legal and social justice studies. I recommend it for all New Zealanders.


Allan McEvoy is a social worker with over two decades of clinical experience in the disability and mental health sectors. He specialises in working with high levels of challenging behaviour and risk. More recently he has been lecturing, writing, and providing external supervision to those who continue the mahi.