Anzac spirit’s true origins disclosed
In his new book, historian Nigel Robson says Gallipoli wasn’t the birthplace of Australia and New Zealand’s military camaraderie
The famed “Anzac spirit” was not forged on the battlefields of Gallipoli, as the well-known bi-national narrative has been told, but rather some 15 years earlier in South Africa, a new book claims.
With Anzac Day memorial preparations under way for tomorrow, the bombshell revelations come in Our First Foreign War — The Impact of the South African War 1899 — 1902 on New Zealand.
Historian Nigel Robson examines the social, political and economic impact of an oftenoverlooked war.
And he reveals that Australians and New Zealanders fought shoulder-to-shoulder years before they fought the Germans and Ottomans in World War I.
“That kind of military camaraderie that existed at Gallipoli and on the Western Front — this shared sense of adversity — was predated by at least a decade because a similar thing took place in the South African War,” says Robson, whose grandfathers both fought in the 1914-1918 war.
Soldiers from the fledgling countries joined units from both sides of the Tasman, and served together in mixed British and colonial units, to fight against the Boer republics of South Africa — Transvaal and Orange Free State.
More than 6500 Kiwi men were sent to fight overseas.
Robson says although the numbers are small compared to those who fought during World War I, New Zealand’s response to the conflict was on a grand scale.
In an outpouring of early patriotic sentiment, thousands followed the stories of sieges at Mafeking, Kimberley and
Ladysmith. But rather than delving into military tactics and manoeuvres, Robson sets out to look at the impact the war had on New Zealand itself — told through the eyes of those who experienced it.
“I don’t think it’s had the attention it deserves, mainly because of the enormity of the two world wars, which largely eclipsed it,” he says.
One of the biggest impacts was economically. With the first contingents largely funded by contributions from the New Zealand public, and later by the imperial government, the cost to New Zealand at the time was relatively small.
Profits of war followed, with horses sent for mounted troops, clothing companies making uniforms, and rural regions supplying oats, providing a particular boon for Southland farmers and ports.
Those who signed up represented a crosssection of New Zealand society, a “real national hodgepodge of identities”, with many born elsewhere, including Scotland, Ireland, England, Canada and Australia.
“There were the people you would expect, like farmers, stockmen, horse trainers, but also solicitors, pastry cooks, even a Member of Parliament,” Robson says. “While patriotism was a strong factor in the response to the war, I don’t think it was the sole reason these guys went. Most of them were just young guys who wanted an adventure and get overseas, just like today when young Kiwis go on the big OE.”
The youngest was just 15. The oldest was 70-year-old Robert Bakewell, a doctor who served in the Crimean War (1853-56) alongside Florence Nightingale at Scutari.
Bakewell claimed that 24 hours before the ninth New Zealand contingent was due to sail, Premier Richard John Seddon had wanted him as its surgeoncaptain, despite his age and infirmities.
Suffering from emphysema and asthma while at sea, Bakewell took to smoking the powerful hallucinogen datura to relieve his symptoms.
And on arrival in Natal, Bakewell was hospitalised and played no part in the conflict, returning home as an invalid.
Newspapers back home, feeding on the first time a national force had been sent overseas, often exaggerated the Kiwis’ exploits, Robson says.
“There was a real desire to portray them in a good light, that they were brave, chivalrous, good fighters and, as the book shows, that was not quite true,” Robson says.