New Zealand Religious Leader Claims Police Revoked His Gun License Over Immigration Stance

When Destiny Church founder Brian Tamaki posted a live video to X on June 29, 2026, showing New Zealand Police officers confiscating his hunting firearms from his garage, he framed the moment as something far bigger than a routine licensing issue. According to Tamaki’s account, officers informed him his gun license had been revoked—and he connected that decision directly to his public opposition to mass immigration.

The incident raises immediate questions about the intersection of speech, firearms policy, and government authority. Under New Zealand’s Arms Act 1983, police have discretion to revoke licenses when they determine a holder isn’t a“fit and proper person”to possess firearms, a standard that accounts for criminal history, psychiatric concerns, and drug-related matters. Tamaki’s claim that immigration commentary alone triggered the revocation is harder to verify. As of publication, no official New Zealand Police statement confirming the specific grounds for the license revocation had surfaced, leaving the factual basis of his assertion unclear.

Tamaki is no stranger to confrontation with authorities. The founder and leader of the Freedoms New Zealand political party was arrested on January 17, 2022, for allegedly breaching bail conditions after he addressed an anti-lockdown rally in Christchurch’s Hagley Park, which he characterized as a“family picnic”rather than a protest. He’s run for elected office multiple times without success and has consistently positioned himself as a political outsider challenging government overreach. That history frames how supporters and critics are interpreting this latest development.

The timing and framing matter here. In a polarized media environment, one person’s free speech protection is another’s warning sign—and the details of what actually triggered the revocation remain officially undisclosed. Tamaki’s response to police—cooperating rather than resisting—also suggests he understood the legal reality, even if he disputed the reasoning. When asked why he didn’t resist, he referenced his previous prison time, writing“I’m no use in prison mate…So I’m more use fighting for another day.”

What this incident reveals, perhaps more than anything else, is how easily a licensing decision becomes a flashpoint in the broader debate over government authority, political speech, and civil liberties. Without clarity from police on their specific reasoning, the story’s meaning depends largely on who’s telling it—and to whom.