New Zealand are set to drop their ‘All Whites’ nickname
The New Zealand national football team could drop their “All Whites” nickname following a review by the federation into cultural diversity.
The national rugby team, known as the All Blacks, play in black, but the football team predominantly wear white and took on the “All Whites” name during qualifying for the 1982 World Cup finals. A black kit was not worn in football as it was not compatible with the traditional referee’s strip. The All Whites name, however, is now being evaluated as part of a wide-ranging project aimed at modernisation and inclusivity.
“New Zealand Football is on a journey around cultural inclusivity and respecting the principles of Te Tiriti o Waitangi,” the NZF said, referring to the 1840 treaty between the British crown and Maori chiefs.
The New Zealand Super rugby side Canterbury Crusaders changed their logo in 2019 from a knight brandishing a sword to a Maori motif following questions over whether references to wars between Muslims and Christians were appropriate.
This does not end well for Exeter Chiefs. It has been patently clear, ever since the club’s contradictory statement on their Native American branding was released last year, that the end was nigh.
It has become a case of when, not if, their headdresses and tomahawk chops are consigned to history. In attempting to sweep the matter under the carpet, it is now festering.
Last year’s internal review, spawned after a group of the club’s own supporters called for the branding to be eradicated, found that their iconography was “in fact highly respectful” to Native American people, although in response the club still saw fit to retire their mascot, “Big Chief ”, as “a mark of respect”.
The painfully palpable question is: if their branding is so respectful, why retire the mascot? The painfully palpable answer is, of course, guilt.
The Chiefs were given an amnesty to banish their needless Native American branding, and they spurned it.
No one was demanding a name change, remember; just that the unnecessary fetish with which Exeter had come to be known be abolished. Whatever your beliefs, be it that this is just another example of the insidious cult of woke, or a crass cultural misappropriation and caricature, the inescapable fact is that the Native American branding is unnecessary and lacking even the slightest link to the brand it is supposed to represent, aside from the polysemous “Chiefs” moniker.
Exeter’s procrastination and obduracy is now catching up with them. Except now the wolves are at the door, and they are hungry.
On Friday night, a group of Wasps supporters wrote to their club’s chief executive, Stephen Vaughan, demanding a ban on any Native American headdresses at the club’s stadium.
The club responded by saying that they would “look into” the group’s request. While this would be a watershed moment for Premiership Rugby, the global precedent has already been set. At the start of August, the Washington Football Team, who had already dropped the controversial name “Redskins”, banned fans from wearing headdresses as well as face paint at their stadium.
But even as Exeter’s desperate boating against the current continues its inexorable journey towards defeat, fans should be asking themselves what it means for other brands within rugby.
Rightly or wrongly, “cancel culture” is often met with the question: “Where do you draw the line?” In this case, rather than using it to flippantly bemoan modern attitudes, it is worth genuinely asking and deliberating: who or what is next?
Following the same logic as those calling for Exeter to abolish their Native American branding, is it culturally appropriate, in 2021, for Saracens fans to continue wearing their emblematic fez at matches, a caricatured symbol of Moroccan cultural identity? Even the name, Saracens, a derogatory Christian term for Arab Muslims and Turks from the Middle Ages, must surely be problematic, too, and in no way representative of the UK’S modern multiculturalism?
The New Zealand franchise, Crusaders, one of rugby’s greatest club sides, has cottoned on to this very imbroglio. After the 2019 Christchurch mosque shootings, the Crusaders considered changing their name because of the symbolism and imagery associated with the religious Crusades against the Muslims. Ultimately, the name remained, but their knight and sword logos were given a red card. How long does the name have left?
By the same rationale, Doncaster Knights, the English Championship side, should be looking over their shoulders. Might, even, the haka be on borrowed time, too?
From a purely sporting sense, it should be; no one has ever adequately explained why any country has a right to perform an intimidatory tribal war dance before a rugby match while the opposition have to politely spectate. In terms of social and cultural status, however, surely it is misappropriation 101?
Rugby’s link to the haka is no more authentic than chalk to cheese or Exeter to the Iroquois indians. The haka is a tribal war dance originating with the indigenous Maori in New Zealand. It has been piggybacked, objectified and commercially exploited by rugby union; a Maori cultural symbol that has been caricatured and fetishised the world over.
And, just like those Chiefs’ headdresses, those Knights, Saracens and Crusaders, its days might be numbered.
No one has ever explained why any country has a right to perform a tribal war dance at a rugby match