What Makes Kiwis Tick?

While NZ is a proud little nation, Kiwis traditionally don’t have time for show-offs. Jingoistic flag-waving is generally frowned upon. People who make an impression on the international stage are respected and admired, but flashy tall poppies have traditionally had their heads lopped off. This is perhaps a legacy of NZ’s early egalitarian ideals – the ones that sought to avoid the worst injustices of the ‘mother country’ (Britain) by breaking up large landholdings and enthusiastically adopting a ‘cradle to grave’ welfare state. ‘Just because someone’s got a bigger car than me, or bigger guns, doesn’t make them better’ is the general Kiwi attitude.

NZ has rarely let its size get in the way of making a point on the international stage. A founding member of the League of Nations (the precursor to the UN), it ruffled feathers between the world wars by failing to blindly follow Britain’s position. It was in the 1980s, however, that things got really interesting.

A Turbulent Decade

Modern Kiwi culture pivots on the 1980s. Firstly, the unquestioned primacy of rugby union as a source of social cohesion (which rivalled the country’s commitment to the two world wars as a foundation of nation-building) was stripped away when tens of thousands of New Zealanders took to the streets to protest a tour by the South African rugby side in 1981. The protesters held that the politics of apartheid not only had a place in sport, they trumped it. The country was starkly divided; there were riots in paradise. The scar is still strong enough that most New Zealanders over the age of 40 will recognise the simple phrase ‘the tour’ as referring to those events.

The tour protests both harnessed and nourished a political and cultural renaissance among Maori that had already been rolling for a decade. Three years later that renaissance found its mark when a reforming Labour government gave statutory teeth to the Waitangi Tribunal, an agency that has since guided a process of land return, compensation for past wrongs and interpretation of the Treaty of Waitangi (the 1840 pact between Maori and the Crown) as a living document.

At the same time antinuclear protests that had been rumbling for years gained momentum, with mass blockades of visiting US naval ships. In 1984 Prime Minister David Lange barred nuclear-powered or armed ships from entering NZ waters. The mouse had roared. As a result the US threw NZ out of ANZUS, the country’s main strategic military alliance, which also included Australia, declaring NZ ‘a friend but not an ally’.

However, it was an event in the following year that completely changed the way NZ related to the world, when French government agents launched an attack in Auckland Harbour, sinking Greenpeace’s antinuclear flagship Rainbow Warrior and killing one of its crew. Being bombed by a country that NZ had fought two world wars with – and the muted or nonexistent condemnation by other allies – left an indelible mark. It strengthened NZ’s resolve to follow its own conscience in foreign policy and in 1987 NZ became a nuclear-free zone.

From the Boer to Vietnam Wars, NZ had blithely trotted off at the behest of the UK or US. Not anymore, as was demonstrated by its lack of involvement in the invasion of Iraq. That’s not to say that the country shirks its international obligations: NZ troops continue to be deployed in peacekeeping capacities throughout the world.

If that wasn’t enough upheaval for one decade, 1986 saw another bitter battle split the community – this time over the decriminalisation of homosexuality. The debate was particularly rancorous, but the law that previously incarcerated consenting gay adults was repealed, paving the way for the generally accepting society that NZ is today. In 1999 Georgina Beyer, an openly transsexual former prostitute, would win a once safe rural seat off a conservative incumbent, and in 2013 NZ legalised same-sex marriage.

Yet while the 1980s saw the country jump to the left on social issues, simultaneous economic reforms were an extreme step to the right (to para­phrase one-time Hamiltonian Richard O’Brien’s song ‘The Time Warp’). The public sector was slashed, any state assets that weren’t bolted to the floor were sold off, regulation was removed from many sectors, trade barriers dismantled and the power of the unions greatly diminished.

There was broad agreement that the old economy had to be restructured, but the reforms carried a heavy price. The old social guarantees were no longer as sure. Today, New Zealanders work long hours for lower wages than their Australian cousins would ever tolerate. Compared with other Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) nations, NZ family incomes are low, child poverty rates are high and the gap between rich and poor is widening.

Yet there is a dynamism about NZ that was rare in the ‘golden wea­ther’ years before the reforms. NZ farmers take on the world without the massive subsidies of yore, and Wellington’s inner city – once virtually closed after dark by oppressive licensing laws – now thrives with great bars and restaurants.

As with the economic reforms, the ‘Treaty process’ of redress and reconciliation with Maori makes some New Zealanders uneasy, more in their uncertainty about its extent than that it has happened at all. The Maori population sat somewhere between 85,000 and 110,000 at the time of first European contact 200 years ago. Disease and warfare subsequently decimated the population, but a high birth rate now sees about 15% of New Zealanders (599,000 people) identify as Maori, and that proportion is likely to grow.

The implication of the Treaty is one of partnership between Maori and the British Crown, together forging a bicultural nation. After decades of attempted cultural assimilation it’s now accepted in most quarters that the indigenous culture has a special and separate status within the country’s ethnic mix. For example, Maori is an official language and there is a separate electoral roll granting Maori guaranteed parliamentary seats.

Yet room has had to be found for the many New Zealanders of neither British nor Maori heritage. In each new wave of immigration there has been a tendency to demonise before gradually accepting and celebrating what the new cultures have to offer. This happened with the Chinese in the mid-19th century, Croatians at the beginning of the 20th, Pacific Islanders in the 1970s and, most recently, the Chinese again in the 1990s. That said, NZ society is more integrated and accepting than most. People of all races are represented in all levels of society and race isn’t an obstacle to achievement.

For the younger generation, for whom the 1980s are prehistory, poli­tical apathy is the norm. In the 2011 general election only 75% of the population turned out to vote; for the under 30s this drops to less than 64%.

A Long Way from Britain

Most Kiwis (except perhaps the farmers) probably wish it rained a little less and they got paid a little more, but it sometimes takes a few years travelling on their ‘Big OE’ (Overseas Experience – a traditional rite of passage) before they realise how good they’ve got it. In a 2014 study of the quality of life in the world’s major cities, Auckland was rated third and Wellington 12th.

Despite all the change, key elements of the NZ identity are an unbroken thread, and fortune is still a matter of economics rather than class. If you are served well in a restaurant or shop, it will be out of politeness or pride in the job, rather than servility.

In country areas and on bush walks don’t be surprised if you’re given a cheery greeting from passers-by, especially in the South Island. In a legacy of the British past, politeness is generally regarded as one of the highest virtues. A ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ will get you a long way. The three great exceptions to this rule are: a) on the road, where genteel Dr Jekylls become raging Mr Hydes, especially if you have the misfortune of needing to change lanes in Auckland; b) if you don’t speak English very well; and c) if you are Australian.

The latter two traits are the product of insularity and a smallness of world view that tends to disappear among Kiwis who have travelled (and luckily many do). The NZ–Australian rivalry is taken much more seriously on this side of the Tasman Sea. Although it’s very unlikely that Kiwis will be rude outright, visiting Aussies must get pretty sick of the constant ribbing, much of it surprisingly ill-humoured. It’s a sad truth that while most Australians would cheer on a NZ sports team if they were playing anyone other than their own, the opposite is true in NZ.

Number-Eight Wire

You might on your travels hear the phrase ‘number-eight wire’ and wonder what on earth it means. It’s a catchphrase New Zealanders still repeat to themselves to encapsulate a national myth: that NZ’s isolation and its pioneer stock created a culture in which ingenuity allowed problems to be solved and tools to be built from scratch. A NZ farmer, it was said, could solve pretty much any problem with a piece of number-eight wire (the gauge used for fencing on farms).

It’s actually largely true – NZ farms are full of NZ inventions. One reason big offshore film and TV producers bring their projects here – apart from the low wages and huge variety of locations – is that they like the can-do attitude and ability to work to a goal of NZ technical crews. Many more New Zealanders have worked as managers, roadies or chefs for famous recording artists (everyone from Led Zeppelin and U2 to Madonna) than have enjoyed the spotlight themselves. Which just goes to show that New Zealanders operate best at the intersection of practicality and creativity, with an endearing (and sometimes infuriating) humility to boot.