Editorial
An Associated Press photograph from 1935 shows New Zealand runner Jack Lovelock being mobbed by fans in New York after winning a race dubbed the Mile of the Century. Front and centre in the picture is the striking image of a silver fern on Lovelock’s black singlet, accompanied by the letters NZ. It is a reminder not only of the potent visual impact of the silver fern logo, but also of its long history as an instantly recognisable symbol of this country. No one was in danger of mistaking Lovelock for an athlete from any other land, just as no one could mistake Peter Snell’s nationality (see page 7) when he won his three Olympic gold medals. The clue was right there on his chest.
Regular Listener readers may guess where this editorial is heading. For decades, this magazine has campaigned for a new national flag – one that expresses our unique nationhood in a way that the present flag does not. It’s a debate that won’t go away, because until we have a flag that we can truly call our own – one that doesn’t risk confusion with others, or perpetuate outdated colonial associations – we remain incomplete as a nation.
Defenders of the status quo will argue that the issue was put to bed in 2016, when 56% of New Zealanders voted to retain the existing design, but the debate leading to that referendum was hopelessly skewed by partisan politics. The proposal to change the flag was seen as then-Prime Minister John Key’s vanity project – his one shot at leaving an enduring personal legacy. As debate raged, it became difficult to discern whether opposition to change was motivated by genuine attachment to the existing flag or a desire to puncture Key’s balloon.
That was slightly less than four years ago, but already it feels like ancient history. Key’s enduring legacy turned out not to be a flag change but the cycleways around New Zealand that are already reducing emissions and will produce health benefits for generations to come.
It is the legacy of an earlier prime minister – Norman Kirk
– that would be enhanced now by a change of flag. Kirk’s embrace of an independent foreign stance in the 1970s is patently incomplete without the removal of the Union Jack from our flag. Changing the flag was, in fact, part of the Labour Party’s election policy in 2014, even if then-leader Andrew Little seemed to become ambivalent about the idea once Key championed it. Yet, this is one policy on which Labour could deliver if it had the courage, like Kirk, to act.
The arguments in favour of change haven’t weakened. If anything, they have become more compelling. Though the Queen remains our titular head of state, we function as a wholly independent sovereign nation. Our relationship with Britain, so long one of subservience, changed irrevocably when that country joined the European Economic Community in 1973, and the links become more attenuated with every passing year. We are now one of the world’s most ethnically diverse countries, with an ever-increasing number of foreign-born citizens who are no doubt bewildered by the anachronism that purports to be our national emblem.
Neither does the passage of time do anything to ease the embarrassment of a flag that even New Zealanders have trouble distinguishing from that of our nearest neighbour, that often gets displayed at international events as Australia’s (and vice-versa), and that invites mockery from Brits at sporting contests such as the recent Rugby World Cup, where English fans jeered “Get yer flag off our flag!”
The tricky bit, of course, as Key’s government found out, is finding an alternative that makes everyone happy. Any debate on the flag must start with acceptance that unanimity on the design is unattainable. Canadians learnt that in the 1960s, when they were polarised by Prime Minister Lester Pearson’s push for a new ensign. In the end, the maple leaf was adopted in the face of anguished protests. Yet, who would argue today that it was the wrong decision?
The silver fern is our maple leaf. The image on Jack Lovelock’s singlet conveys a sense of national pride, achievement and identity. And does it in a way that our present flag can never do.
The image on Jack Lovelock’s singlet conveys a sense of national pride, achievement and identity.