Concerns over uni group not surprising

‘‘STRENGTH through honour’’ appeared below the club’s name on its Celticstyled logo, and another of its slogans, found on its Facebook page, was apparently (Civis is Facebook-ignorant) ‘‘Our pride is our honour and loyalty’’: chillingly similar to the Nazi SS’ ‘‘Meine Ehre heisst Treue’’ (‘‘My honour is called loyalty’’). That motto was part of the Third Reich’s drive to instil blind obedience to the Fuhrer, even when his orders were criminal. It’s not surprising that concerns were raised about the ‘‘Auckland University European Students Association’’, which intended to recruit during the university’s orientation week, or that some suspected the club was a ‘‘white supremacy’’ group.

The club denied this, and explained that it aimed ‘‘to promote European culture on campus through activities such as medieval reenactions, outdoor events and concerts with a European theme as well as European cuisine feasts’’. Its unnamed president said that the slogan was chosen because it sounded strong and ‘‘looked cool’’ but admitted that its choice might have been stupid. He said the group also hoped to take part in outdoor activities such as hiking and camping.

Superficially that sounds reasonable — after all, most universities in New Zealand have clubs supporting a variety of ethnicities and their cultures. There is a difference, though: those clubs represent minority cultures rather than that of the dominant majority. And Civis’ feeling of discomfort wasn’t relieved by the club’s choice of pictures that it showed on Facebook. One was Anton von Werner’s painting of the proclamation of the German Empire, at Versailles, in 1871, after the German confederation led by Prussia had crushed France in the 1870 war. Another (the AUESA apparently, despite the Brexit vote, regarded Britain as part of Europe) was of Captain James Cook — a skilled navigator and, at least on his first two Pacific voyages, a careful and considerate commander, but undoubtedly a symbol of annexation and colonisation.

These, and the club’s wish to have ‘‘strong’’ slogans, suggest an interest in AngloSaxon ‘‘manifest destiny’’, the subjugation of ‘‘weaker’’ peoples, the Hegelian teaching that the State is supreme over the individual, and the Trietschkian drive for Prussian domination of the world. The

AUESA’s seemingly innocent plans for outdoor activities such as hiking and camping (why didn’t they join the Auckland University Tramping Club?) brought to mind the Nazi ‘‘Kraft durch Freude’’ (‘‘Strength through Joy’’) movement, and the Hitlerjugend.

Where was reference to other great European cultures? To France’s ‘‘Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite’’? To Spanish or Roma dance? Or, for that matter, to the food and music which the club wanted to promote?

If, as the AUESA’s president insisted, it was all a misunderstanding; the suggestion that the club was racist, or white supremacist, ‘‘total nonsense’’; and its sole aim was to express aspects of European culture; well and good. Civis was looking forward to hearing of students practising Morris dancing, flamenco or schuhplattler, before they tucked into paella, coq au vin, or Hungarian goulash (Civis remembers fondly the goulash served at the Budapest in Stafford St in the 1960s) to strains of Bach or Mozart, though some of the medieval reenactments (burning Joan of Arc? Sacking conquered towns? Knocking each other off charging horses with wooden poles or swords?) might have been less edifying.

But it’s not to be. The president (who tells us he’s received threats of violence) says that ‘‘it has become extremely dangerous for the AUESA to continue with the appalling rhetoric by people on and off campus regarding our group’’, and that it’s disbanding (or has it gone underground?). Perhaps, now that he won’t be reenacting medieval events he’ll have time to attend the university’s English Writing course, and learn about clear sentence structure.

Henry, a rooster, took up residence recently in Glen Rd, and his crowing elicited complaints to the Dunedin

City Council. Attempts to catch him were fruitless, and the DCC regulatory service group compliance solutions manager (what a title!) said that if pest control staff couldn’t do so ‘‘we will need to shoot him’’.

Why? Who was he hurting? His crowing would be quieter than the noise made by the average heavy metal fan, or that once emanated from nearby Carisbrook.

Thankfully, he was eventually caught (a ‘‘honey trap’’) for relocation to the country.

But will the tuis’ dawn chorus bring out DCC shotguns next?