On July 31, 2025, a diplomatic gesture by FBI Director Kash Patel in Wellington, New Zealand, unexpectedly collided with the country’s famously strict firearms laws—sparking a minor international stir and underscoring deep cultural differences around guns. During his visit to officially open the FBI’s first standalone office in New Zealand, Patel presented a series of display stands to at least five of the nation’s top security officials. Each stand included a plastic, 3D-printed replica pistol—a gift that, while inoperable, was nonetheless illegal to possess under New Zealand law without special permits.
According to The Associated Press, the recipients of these gifts included Police Commissioner Richard Chambers, Andrew Hampton (Director-General of the New Zealand Security Intelligence Service, or NZSIS), and Andrew Clark (Director-General of the Government Communications Security Bureau, or GCSB). Two senior elected officials, Police Minister Mark Mitchell and Judith Collins, the minister responsible for military and spy agencies, also received the display stands. A spokesperson for the intelligence agencies described the gifts as "a challenge coin display stand" with the 3D-printed pistol forming part of the design.
But what seemed a well-intentioned gesture from Patel quickly turned problematic. New Zealand’s gun laws are among the strictest in the world, especially since the tragic 2019 Christchurch mosque shootings that left 51 people dead and led to a sweeping ban on semiautomatic weapons. Under current regulations, pistols are tightly restricted; even inoperable weapons are treated as if they were functional if modifications could render them operable. The plastic pistols, though not semiautomatic models, fell squarely under these rules once New Zealand’s gun regulator examined them.
Police Commissioner Chambers explained the sequence of events in a statement to The Associated Press: “To ensure compliance with firearms laws, I instructed Police to retain and destroy them.” The weapons were surrendered and destroyed soon after the officials received them. Chambers did not specify exactly how the pistols had been rendered inoperable prior to Patel’s gift—typically, this involves disabling the firing mechanism—but the law was clear: if a weapon could potentially be made operable, it was not permitted.
New Zealand’s Customs agency confirmed to The Associated Press that all travelers, regardless of status, must declare any firearms or gun parts upon entry. However, the agency declined to reveal what, if anything, Patel had declared when he arrived for his visit. It also remains unclear whether Patel sought the required license to possess a pistol on New Zealand soil, or if any of the officials who received the gifts held the necessary permits.
The incident quickly became a talking point in Wellington. The opening of the FBI’s new office itself had already caused ripples—news of the event was not made public until after it had happened, and Patel’s remarks to reporters about countering China’s influence in the South Pacific led to some diplomatic discomfort. New Zealand officials responded by emphasizing that the increased FBI presence was primarily to foster collaboration on crimes such as child exploitation and drug smuggling, rather than as a bulwark against Beijing. China, for its part, protested Patel’s comments.
James Davidson, president of the FBI Integrity Project and a vocal critic of Patel’s appointment, weighed in on the controversy. Speaking to The Associated Press, Davidson said, “The gift of the replica pistols appeared a genuine gesture from Patel and their destruction was quite frankly, an overreaction by the NZSIS, which could have simply rendered the replica inoperable.” Davidson’s remarks reflect a broader debate over whether the response was proportional or unnecessarily strict, especially given the symbolic nature of the gifts.
New Zealand’s approach to firearms is shaped by a history that sharply contrasts with the United States. Unlike in the U.S., where gun ownership is often considered a constitutional right, New Zealand enshrines it as a privilege. After the Christchurch tragedy, the country moved swiftly to ban semiautomatic weapons and tighten gun controls. The government’s stance is clear: gun ownership is not a cultural touchstone, and the risks posed by even inoperable or replica weapons are taken seriously.
Indeed, guns are not uncommon in rural New Zealand, where they are used for pest control, but violent gun crime is rare, and most urban residents may never have seen a firearm up close. Police officers themselves are typically unarmed during patrols, keeping their weapons locked in vehicles unless needed. This environment makes even the presence of a non-functional pistol a sensitive issue.
As The Inquirer and The New York Post both reported, the destruction of the replica pistols was not just a matter of legal compliance, but also a reflection of the country’s post-Christchurch resolve. The pistols, while not banned semiautomatic models, were still restricted due to the need for specific permits. The law treats 3D-printed weapons with the same gravity as traditional firearms, recognizing the potential for modification and misuse.
Patel’s visit was notable in other respects as well. He is the most senior Trump administration official to visit New Zealand to date, and his trip included meetings and dinners with more than a dozen senior public servants and elected officials, according to public records cited by The Associated Press. The new FBI office in Wellington, which had previously operated under the oversight of the bureau’s Canberra office in Australia, now aligns New Zealand more closely with the FBI’s missions in other so-called Five Eyes intelligence-sharing countries: the United States, United Kingdom, Australia, and Canada.
The FBI declined to comment on the incident when approached by multiple outlets, including The Associated Press. For New Zealand, the episode offered a reminder of the country’s distinct approach to firearms and the care with which it guards its laws—even when diplomatic niceties are at stake.
While some, like Davidson, saw the destruction as overkill, New Zealand’s officials stood by their decision. The incident, though minor in the grand scheme of international relations, highlighted the sometimes surprising ways that cultural and legal differences can surface in the world of diplomacy. For now, the 3D-printed pistols are gone, but the story remains a telling example of how even well-meant gestures can go awry when they cross borders—and laws.
