Haka has no place in the modern game

TO think both that the Haka is special and that the Haka must go would seem to be the ultimate contradiction, but it’s precisely because it’s special that it must go.

The Haka is a stirring spectacle, fifteen men lined up, slapping their thighs, clapping their arms, all in rhythm, chanting and singing in harmony. It’s instantly iconic. It’s what non-rugby fans think of when they think of rugby.

That the Haka is a part of Maori culture is a wonderful expression of the synthesis of both the indigenous and the colonising populations. Whether or not New Zealand society writ large lives up to that ideal is for others better placed to decide, but such symbols do matter.

On the pitch the All Blacks certainly live up to it. The respect and harmony between cultures demonstrated by and during the Haka manifests itself in one of the most efficient and ruthless forces international sport has ever known and it’s there that we have to question its continuation as a pre-match ritual.

Performance of the Haka is an obvious and blatant unfair advantage. Just before throw-in New Zealand get a minute and-a-half to rile themselves up and to intimidate their opposition and don’t for a second think it’s not about intimidating the opposition.

The Haka we see the All Blacks use quite often – the Kapa o Pango – usually includes a gesture that looks a hell of a lot like they’re mimicking slitting their opponents throats. Charming we’re sure you’ll agree.

If you were starting with a blank sheet of paper there’s just no way you’d allow it. Custom and tradition and now commercial considerations have allowed it to continue unchecked.

It’s beyond time the Haka situation was addressed. The sport’s integrity depends upon it.