Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Australia. Show all posts

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Stuff the British Stole


Marc Fennell: Stuff the British Stole (2022-24)


Stuff the British Stole, for those of you who haven't yet come across it, is a "television documentary series which premiered in 2022", but which has only just arrived on Netflix NZ:
A co-production of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, the series is hosted by Australian journalist Marc Fennell, and delves into various controversies around historically and culturally significant objects that were taken by the United Kingdom during its colonial era, and have been the subject of demands for their repatriation back to their homelands.
I guess the point of view it promulgates could be summed up more or less as follows:

Geographic Enigma: Europe According To Ireland (2025)


As one respondent on Facebook, where I found this gem, remarked: "A bit tough on the Welsh!"

In other words, everyone hates the English. I think I'm okay with that. In the second episode of the series, concentrating on the evil King Edward the First's brutal theft of the Stone of Destiny from Scotland, I found myself chanting "They can take my life, but they'll never take my freedom!", and even repeating (with tears in my eyes) Braveheart's celebrated account of the Battle of Bannockburn: "They fought like warrior poets; they fought like Scotsmen ..."

So you can see which side of these various controversies I'm likely to espouse. Which is odd, really, as the Australian side of my genealogy leads back to England and the Vale of the White Horse after a couple of generations. It's only the New Zealand side which is so proud of its descent from Gaelic-speaking Mackenzies, Macleans, and Macleods in the Scottish Highlands (as well, of course, as those penny-pinching Rosses of Dingwall).

Be that as it may, I'm happy to report that Marc Fennell embodies the finest traditions of iconoclastic Aussie journalism. He's brash, vulgar, and sniggers at all the wrong moments. If he's a little prone to over-simplify immensely complex issues, one would have to say in his defence that at least he's prepared to drag them out into the harsh light of day for scrutiny.


William Dalrymple & Anita Anand: Koh-i-noor (2017)


Take the first episode of his TV show, for instance. It deals with the vexed subject of the Koh-i-noor diamond, the "Mountain of Light." Should it still be sitting in the Tower of London, stuck in the Queen Mom's crown? Probably not. Certainly the circumstances of its acquisition - extorted from a 10 (or possibly 11: opinions differ on that)-year-old child, the Maharaja of the Sikh Empire, Duleep Singh, after the annexation of the Punjab by the British East India Company in 1849 - were a little less than edifying.


Franz Xaver Winterhalter: Duleep Singh (1838–1893)


Even at the time this was seen as pretty reprehensible, and Queen Victoria herself apparently felt uneasy about being presented with the jewel by the choleric Governor-General of India, Lord Dalhousie. Was it really his to give, she wondered? She didn't give it back, though. But neither did she wear it, at least until the young Duleep Singh, who'd become a favourite at her court, "regifted" it to her, moments after he was allowed to hold it one more time whilst posing for a portrait in 1854.

Among the many complicating aspects of this sorry saga - acknowledged in passing by Marc Fennell, but spelt out in detail in William Dalrymple & Anita Anand's excellent book on the subject - is the fact that the Sikh empire straddled modern-day India and Pakistan, giving both governments a pretext for demanding the jewel back. Then there are the many descendants of Duleep Singh and his relatives, each of whom has a claim.

And then there's the fact that Duleep's father, the so-called "Lion of the Punjab", Ranjit Singh, himself stole (or "acquired forceably", as he might have preferred to put it) the diamond from Shah Shujah, the erstwhile ruler of the Durrani Empire. The Durranis, in their turn, acquired it from the Afsharid dynasty of Iran, who looted it from the Mughal treasury in Delhi during their invasion of India in 1739. Troubled times.



After that it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish the Koh-i-noor from various other fabled gems in Indian history. It is, however, known to have formed part of the famous Peacock throne of the Mughal emperors.

"Quis?" - to whom? - as Lord Marchmain puts it in Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited, when trying to determine to which of his variously unsatisfactory children he should leave the family estate.

The Sikhs have a claim, the Afghans have a claim, the Iranians have a claim, the descendants of the Mughals have a claim, as do the ancient rulers of Hindustan. Even the God Krishna could be said to have a claim. It all makes for riveting TV, that's for sure.




George Healy: Abraham Lincoln (1867)
As a nation, we began by declaring that "all men are created equal." We now practically read it "all men are created equal, except negroes." When the Know-Nothings [= MAGAs] get control, it will read "all men are created equal, except negroes, and foreigners, and Catholics." When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty – to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy.
As usual, Abe Lincoln hits the nail on the head. It's not the fact that British colonial officials were a pack of thieves which is surprising, it's the degree of hypocrisy with which they attempted to disguise their depredations.

All conquerors are light-fingered by nature. I think we can take that as read. How else are you supposed to demonstrate how victorious you've been except with a pile of swag? The whole concept of the Roman Triumph is based around it. The idea of the "spoils of war" has even been carefully legislated in international law.

But just think for a moment how many indignant denunciations you've read of Napoleon's art thefts in Italy and Germany, and how blatantly they served to swell the holdings of the Louvre.


George Clooney, dir.: The Monuments Men (2014)


And then there are those wicked Nazis. There's a whole movie about Goering and the other "collectors" in the Third Reich who did their best to get down on the best of Europe's paintings and sculptures. How vulgar of them! How nouveau riche ...

The contrast with the thieving British colonial proconsuls and administrators, who had to arrange things to make it seem as if they'd somehow stumbled on the valuable artefacts they accumulated with such assiduity, is quite telling. Take, for instance, the notorious remark made by the founder of British India, Robert Clive, about his own restraint after defeating the Nawab of Bengal and his French allies in 1757:
Consider the situation in which the victory at Plassey had placed me. A great prince was dependent on my pleasure; an opulent city lay at my mercy, its richest bankers bid against each other for my smiles; I walked through vaults which were thrown open to me alone, piled on either hand with gold and jewels! Mr. Chairman, at this moment I stand astonished at my own moderation!
Rather than being chided for what he took, he expected to be congratulated for what he didn't take (not a lot, by all accounts).



No wonder Charles Dickens was inspired to create the character Pecksniff to satirise this curious trait in the British character, in possibly the most scathing - and, interestingly, worst-selling - of all his novels, Martin Chuzzlewit (1844).

Steal by all means, but don't pretend you're doing anything but that. The principle was perhaps best summed up in the words of another great British hypocrite, David Cameron (or, if you prefer, Baron Cameron of Chipping Norton - though he's probably better known as the unwitting architect of Brexit), when he was asked to return the Koh-i-noor to India:
During a 2010 visit to India, the British prime minister, David Cameron, told local media that the diamond would stay in Britain. “If you say yes to one [request], you suddenly find the British Museum would be empty,” Cameron said. “I’m afraid it’s going to have to stay put.”
The circular nature of this reasoning appears to have eluded him.

In any case, here are the various episodes of this thought-provoking series available to us so far:



The British Empire stole a lot of stuff. Those objects are housed in museums and galleries across the world. We peel back the true histories behind those objects - and meet those who want them back.
    Series 1 (2022):

  1. Jewel of Denial
    At the heart of the Crown Jewels is the tragedy of a 10-year-old Sikh boy ripped from his mother and kingdom.

  2. Stoned
    Underneath the late Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation throne was a sacred stone that was stolen from Scottish kings. One Christmas night, a group of Glasgow students decided to steal it back.

  3. Chipped
    Scattered across Australia are fragments of a mysterious ancient mosaic found in Palestine. Putting the pieces together, reveals how the British Empire shaped the modern Middle East.

  4. Shadow Boxer
    In the wake of an epic rebellion by Chinese martial artists against foreign military forces a golden warrior statue is looted by British colonial forces. But how on earth did it end up in Australia?

  5. The Crow Flies
    Sign a deal with Queen Victoria or face disease and devastation? That was a choice facing one of Canada’s proudest leaders. But did the British forces then literally steal the shirt from his back?

  6. The Return
    In an unmarked grave in Liverpool lies the mystery of one of Western Australia’s greatest resistance fighters. This is the story of a courageous and inventive team that found a way to bring him home.


    Series 2 (2024):

  1. Australia's Mummy?
    Marc Fennell travels to the Pyramids of Giza, down the Nile and to the very heart of the British Empire to uncover the truth of how the ancient Egyptian mummified remains of a child ended up in Australia's oldest university.

  2. Parthenon Sculptures
    Stephen Fry joins Marc Fennell on a gripping adventure, from the pinnacle of the Acropolis to a secluded robotics lab high in the Tuscan mountains, to a shipwreck under the Aegean Sea.

  3. Operation Legacy
    From the bustling streets of Nairobi to a secluded royal retreat in the Kenyan mountains, Marc Fennell is on the hunt for secret documents that reveal a brutal history of war and a crumbling empire.

  4. World's Largest Diamond
    Marc Fennell delves into South Africa's first diamond mine and the opulent realms of London to uncover the intriguing tale of how the largest gem-quality diamond ultimately reached the hands of the British royal family.

  5. The Mystery Sphinx
    For years, visitors to the British Museum have been puzzled by an exhibit: a sphinx that looks almost identical to those from Egypt. Marc Fennell discovers the wild story of theft and the secrets of a breathtaking island.

  6. Irish Giant
    Marc Fennell unpicks the twisting history of Charles Byrne, the Irish Giant. It is a story of betrayal, exploitation, and the brutal reality of the medical industry.

  7. Great Rubber Heist
    Rubber is everywhere now, but it wasn't always this way. Marc Fennell explores the Amazon jungle to help unravel an elaborate botanical heist that changed the world.

  8. The Girl & The Doll
    In 2022, a tattered black doll was sent from Britain to the First Nations people of Lutruwita (Tasmania), carrying with it a devastating story of a stolen child. Marc Fennell unravels a story of heartbreak and injustice.



Marc Fennell: Stuff the British Stole (2020-23)


Before the TV series, Stuff the British Stole started as a podcast in 2020. A very few - Tipu's Tiger, the Elgin Marbles - of the recordings listed below overlap with the TV documentaries, but not many. I suppose it goes to show how many such stolen objects there are to choose from!
Throughout its reign, the British Empire stole a lot of stuff. Today those objects are housed in genteel institutions across the UK and the world. They usually come with polite plaques. This is a series about the not-so-polite history behind those objects.
    Series 1 (2020):

  1. 22/11/2020: A Tiger and a Scream
    How a toy tiger became the symbol of a struggle between India and its former British colonisers.
  2. 29/11/2020: Blood Art
    What if your doorstop was evidence of brutal mass murder and wholesale theft?
  3. 6/12/2020: Best.Named.Dog.Ever
    Don’t let their fluffy hair and judging eyes fool you, Pekingese dogs are hiding a secret. Their history encompasses torture, hubris, war, and some very long sleeves. Most importantly these dogs — well, one in particular — may hold the key to understanding the sometimes vexed relationship China has with the West.
  4. 13/12/2020: The Headhunters
    The arrival of Europeans in NZ kicked off a trade in Mokomokai — tattooed heads but these colonial souvenirs have their own complex history.
  5. 20/12/2020: Shots Fired
    The Gweagal shield is just one of the things James Cook and his shipmates took from the local people when they landed in Botany Bay. Why has it become the most contentious?



Have you ever wandered around a museum and thought “How on Earth did all of this stuff get here?” You’re not alone.
Throughout its reign, the British Empire stole a lot of stuff. Today those objects are housed in genteel institutions across the UK and the world. They usually come with polite plaques.
This podcast tells the stories about the not-so-polite history behind those looted objects.
In Season Two, Walkley award-winning host Marc Fennell will take you to a temple, a tree, a lab, a paradise island, a crime scene and a stage. You’ll uncover abductions, scandals and a murder investigation.
Season two of Stuff the British Stole is co-produced with CBC Podcasts.
    Series 2 (2021):

  1. 20/10/2021: The Abductions
    A war. A ransom. And a stunning recovery mission.
    Five elaborately carved panels were buried in a New Zealand swamp to protect it from a war.
    Then 150 years later, they’re acquired by a British collector before being sold to a Swiss-Bolivian collector in Geneva.
    And their long journey home began when a kidnap ransom payment had to be made.
    This is the remarkable story of the Motunui Epa.
  2. 27/10/2021: Losing Your Marbles
    They’ve seen wars, the bottom of the ocean and even - bizarrely - been part of a boxing match.
    The story of how the Parthenon Marbles actually ended up in London’s British Museum is a wild tale featuring bribes, court cases and some extremely dodgy deals.
    There’s been a centuries-long campaign to get them back to their homeland. Now, a team of Greek-Australians have decided that the time for diplomacy is over and a new tactic is required.
  3. 3/11/2021: Cup Runneth
    In County Cork, Ireland, there’s a tree that locals call the Chalice Tree. Local lore says it’s where British Redcoats disrupted a secret Catholic mass, killed two priests and took a sacred chalice.
    Now that chalice sits in London’s Victoria & Albert Museum.
    But what happened in the intervening 200 years is now being pieced together by two Irish families: the O’Keeffes and the McAulliffe’s.
  4. 10/11/2021: Not Your Venus
    Sarah 'Saartjie' Baartman was taken to the UK by a British doctor. But did she know what she was signing up for?
    Stage-named 'The Hottentot Venus', Sarah was paraded around freak shows in London and Paris.
    During her life and even after her death, she was objectified, mistreated and abused.
    More than 200 years after her death, her life story reveals confronting truths about the treatment of black female bodies and how much has, and hasn’t, changed.
  5. 17/11/2021: Strange Fowle
    It’s become a symbol for extinction; the dodo is a semi-mythical creature which most of us know only through Alice in Wonderland.
    But one particular dodo was the victim of a crime – murder.
    Its skull now sits in the Oxford University Museum of Natural History. And it holds the clues to a thrilling mystery which illustrates a little-known colonial legacy.



Throughout its reign, the British Empire stole a lot of stuff. Today the Empire's loot sits in museums, galleries, private collections and burial sites with polite plaques. But its history is often messier than the plaques suggest.
In each episode of this global smash hit podcast, Walkley award-winning journalist, author and genetic potluck, Marc Fennell, takes you on the wild, evocative, sometimes funny, often tragic adventure of how these stolen treasures got to where they live today. These objects will ultimately help us see the modern world — and ourselves — in a different light.
This is a co-production of the ABC and CBC Podcasts.
    Series 3 (2023):

  1. 28/06/2023: The Head in the Library
    In an old country town high school library there is a glass case that displays something highly unusual and, for some, confronting.
    Inside that glass case is a mummified head and according to its plaque, it was donated to Grafton High School in 1915.
    Now, over 100 years later, questions are being raised about where it really came from and whether it really belongs there.
  2. 5/07/2023: Bottles in the Basement
    Deep in the cellars of one of England’s grandest country homes, covered in dirt and cobwebs, lay dozens of bottles of ancient rum.
    Their discovery set off a frenzy among collectors vying to own the oldest rum in the world.
    But where did they come from and who produced them? Sealed inside was the story of an enslaved people in one of the first overseas colonies of the British Empire - Barbados.
  3. 12/07/2023: The Unfinished Prince
    There's a body buried in the grounds of Windsor Castle whose real home is thousands of miles away. Since 2007, there have been calls for Prince Alamayu’s remains to be returned to Ethiopia.
    But how exactly did this young royal end up alone in England, and buried at Windsor Castle? To answer that we have to go back to 1868 to hear the message the British wanted to send that still reverberates to this day.
    If this episode has raised any issues for you, call Lifeline on 13 11 14.
  4. 19/07/2023: Zero Marks The Spot
    It’s round. It has a hole in it. It symbolises nothing and yet it is the possibility of something... meet zero.
    The zero we know and love today is the foundation of our modern world. And we have India to thank for it; in particular one special Indian birch bark book — the Bakhshali manuscript.
    This is the story of how these fragile pages travelled to Oxford University and what their future looks like.
  5. 26/7/2023: The Fever Tree Hunt
    Most heists target gold, jewels or cash. This one targeted illegal seeds.
    As the British established their sprawling empire across the subcontinent and beyond, they encountered a formidable adversary — malaria.
    There was a cure — the bark of the Andean cinchona tree. The only problem? The Dutch and the French were also looking to corner the market in cinchona. And the trees themselves were under threat.
    Grab a gin and tonic and come with us to hear how a botanical empire took off — and gave birth to a quintessential cocktail.
  6. 2/8/2023: The Girl Called Pocahontas
    How do you uncover the true life of a woman whose existence is wrapped in myth, propaganda and a famous animated children’s movie?
    This is the true story of Matoaka - a young Powhatan girl who you probably know as Pocahontas. This is the mystery of a child, a hidden history and a stolen story.
    Audio courtesy of Missing Matoaka.



Marc Fennell: No One Saw it Coming (2025)


Friday, December 02, 2011

Jackette



Jacket, the Australian online journal edited by John Tranter and (latterly) Pam Brown, is generally regarded as one of the most influential poetry magazines of the past two decades (you can access its entire forty-issue back catalogue, 1997-2010, from either the link above or the one below).

It's now succeeded by Jacket2, a website including Articles, Features, Reviews, Interviews, Commentaries, Reissues & Podcasts, all centred on contemporary poetry and poetics. The site is based in the US, but retains strong links with the Antipodes.

As proof of that, when I was at the Poetry & the Contemporary symposium in Melbourne in July, Pam Brown approached me about editing a New Zealand poetry feature for the site to parallel the one that she was doing on Australian poetry.

Both features are now up online. You can check out Pam's (which is pretty comprehensive: it's planned to include - eventually - 51 contemporary Australian poets) here, and my more modest selection of a dozen Kiwi poets here.

Once before I went through an exercise of this kind -- in 2004, seven years ago, when I co-edited 12 Taonga from the Aotearoa New Zealand Poetry Sound Archive with Jan Kemp for the nzepc, at the end of our work on that 40-odd-CD-long, 171-poet-strong compilation of recordings and back-up materials.

Interestingly enough, there are two overlaps with the Jacket2 feature: Apirana Taylor and Richard von Sturmer. Besides that, though, I've tried to keep to the same principle of unearthing overlooked treasures in this new international showcase. Once again, it came down to 12 poets (though a number of those I asked were unable to participate for one reason or another -- I'd originally planned on including 15 or so: still well short of Pam's 50 -- we are only a quarter of the size, though: in population, at any rate ...)

The number rises to a neat Baker's dozen when you add in the strong, strikingly colourful images of local artist Emma Smith, which I attached to each page to give a kind of consistency of tone to these otherwise wildly various materials.


[Emma Smith:
"Even though you have lost your horse, don't pursue it"
[oil on canvas] (2011)]



So what's in the feature? It's entitled "Look and look again: 12 New Zealand poets," and the twelve poets in question are (in alphabetical order):


    [Bio: John Adams]

  1. John Adams:

    • Fishing, off Kawau
    • Did you hear the snicker/ of that piwakawaka?/ In which fold/ is the artist squeezed?
    • Out the window there was a round goldfish pond with netting to keep the birds out and an aviary to keep their birds in


  2. Raewyn Alexander:

    • 'aged famous rockers tour the world'
    • girls soft as new grass
    • India - early 20th Century and other Tales


  3. [Bio: Jen Crawford]

  4. Jen Crawford:

    • promontories
    • The Black Valley


  5. Scott Hamilton:

    • Elegy for a survivor of the war on Afghanistan
    • Walking to the Dendroglyphs on Christmas Eve (a dream)


  6. Leicester Kyle:

    • Happy Valley: A Lament for a landscape about to be mined (3 pp.) [31/10/03]
    • I Like It When The Sun Doesn’t Shine [12/9/03]


  7. Aleksandra Lane:

    • Card games
    • Three cheers for liberation
    • Easter


  8. Thérèse Lloyd:

    • The Nail I
    • We’re All Here Buried
    • Takaka


  9. Richard Reeve:

    • Uptake
    • Meeting in a Field
    • Croak


  10. Michael Steven:

    • Dunedin Fives
      o The Octagon
      o Raven Books
      o Spring Broadcast
      o The Excelsior Cafe
      o Meridian
      o Le Punk
      o Dented Moon
    • Elegy


  11. Apirana Taylor:

    • fighting with words
    • dame Margot on the line
    • rat a tat tat


  12. Richard Taylor:

    • In the Silence Museum
      o again)
      o again) (2)
      o again) (3a)
      o again) (4)


  13. Richard Von Sturmer:

    • Book of Equanimity Verses
      o 58.
      o 59.
      o 60.
      o 61,
      o 62.
      o 63.




  14. [Bio: Jack Ross]

  15. Jack Ross:

    • Look and look again: Twelve New Zealand poets



  16. [Bio: Emma Smith]

  17. Emma Smith




So obviously I think that each of these poets has something interesting to say to us right now. Check them out and see if you agree. It's an idiosyncratic selection, no doubt, but not one that I've put together without thinking about it quite a lot: a kind of personal anti-canon, perhaps - but one that's intended to intrigue you rather than provoke your wrath.

The "Jackette" pun was Jen Crawford's, in the first place, but it does seem rather appropriate to what I've tried to do here, so I've gratefully adopted it ... Enjoy.


Emma Smith:
"Hecate"
[mixed media on paper]
(2010)]

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Just Another Funloving Aucklander


[Matt Stenning: Auckland Skyline (2009)]


When I was a kid, my parents used to take us on camping trips all over New Zealand. One year it would be East Cape for a couple of weeks, the next Rotorua and the Lakes. On at least a couple of occasions we drove right around the South Island, which took us roughly three weeks. I'm not quite sure when it dawned on me that the place we came from was somehow different from the places we were visiting.

It was certainly nothing in those places themselves: dairies, playing fields, beaches. Everything seemed pretty normal to me. It was more in the attitude of the people we encountered. It became clear over time that it was exceedingly unwise to admit straight out that you came from Auckland.

Later, as I grew up, I began to encounter terms such as JAFA and Dorklander more and more often. Even when I went overseas as a graduate student, I still had to weather that automatic grimace or joke when answering that inevitable "Where are you from?" from a fellow Kiwi.

"Oh, Auckland, that's not New Zealand - that's a suburb of Sydney," was one bon mot I remember, from a silly young Wellingtonian ("You can talk," was the first riposte that sprang to mind, but I sensibly held my peace).

I wondered why the - very prosaic and ordinary - place I came from elicited such violent and extreme reactions. I still do. I suppose I began by assuming that it was just a bit of humorous joshing, that no-one could seriously imagine that a third of the population of New Zealand were somehow "different" - that merely crossing the Bombay Hills could create an insatiable appetite for latte, bohemian black, and other forms of pretentious trendiness.

There was a certain venom detectable behind it that seemed to preclude the "all in good fun" explanation. Even the most sensitive and cultured of my friends from other centres simply refused to drop the mask and admit that there was nothing particularly special about Auckland whenever I tried to raise the subject seriously.

It used to worry me a bit, I must confess. Like (I suspect) most Aucklanders abroad, I learned to apologise automatically for the place I came from. I would claim to hale from "north of Auckland" (the North Shore, in other words), or simply try to evade the question altogether.

Then, one day in Hamilton, I ran into an old university buddy wearing a T-shirt blazoned with the proud legend "Quite Frankly Auckland" (you understand that this was in the era of "Absolutely Positively Wellington"; "Yes, You Canterbury" - unfortunate double entendre there, I've always thought - and all those other regional mottos). "Auckland is for lovers" was the only other (mercifully short-lived) attempt I heard of to replace the more prosaic "City of Sails".

"How the hell do you get away with it?" I asked him. "Don't you find them waiting outside the pub at closing time to give you a kicking?"

"No, not at all. I had it made up when I moved here. No-one's ever mentioned it before, actually."

Mark's defiance heartened me. I stopped apologising for being from Auckland, stopped trying to blend in and look inoffensive whenever I headed south of the hills. In short, I came to terms with the fact that whatever problems other New Zealanders have with Aucklanders are their problems, not ours. I guess I was aided in this by the fact that my mother comes from Sydney, so growing up on a constant diet of anti-Australian jokes and badinage rather accustoms you to ignoring the silliness of it all.

It isn't just silly, of course. I'm still at a bit of a loss when I read news reports about children being sent home from school for wearing the wrong team colours (the school was in Christchurch, I believe, and the child in question's parents hailed from Dunedin). "All in good fun" once again, no doubt. I'm sure the child in question didn't mind too much missing a day of school. I doubt that he or she relished the atmosphere of hazing and ritual humiliation hanging over it all, though. Why not just burn a cross on their lawn and have done with it?

My mother did rather put it all in perspective for us one day when, after some particularly vituperative piece of anti-Australian raving from some semi-sentient sports commentator, we asked her how Australians felt about New Zealanders.

"They never think about them," she replied. "Until I came here I seriously doubt that I'd spent ten minutes of my life thinking about it. Of course I knew that New Zealand was there, but it just never came up."

There you have it. The root cause of irrational hatred is jealousy. New Zealanders find it difficult to bear that Australians so seldom talk about or even seem to notice them, when we ourselves just can't keep off the subject. The same would appear to apply to Auckland (fortunately to a somewhat lesser degree). Auckland too seems - at any rate for a New Zealand city - big, bewildering and appallingly self-sufficient.

It isn't that Aucklanders necessarily think more of themselves than other New Zealanders, but they do think a lot about themselves. The city is so diverse and huge that it takes some navigation. It's possible to live here all your life and never see large tracts of it. And, yes, this is more of the kind of lifestyle we associate with huge urban centres such as Sydney and Melbourne (giants though they are next to Auckland) than with the more culturally homogeneous and somehow more comprehensible other cities of New Zealand.

I think it was Hazlitt who remarked, "the smaller and more backward the hamlet, the more certain its inhabitants are that it is a pinnacle towards which civilization has been painfully struggling for generations." I think it might just be time for New Zealanders to grow up a bit and stop grousing so much about the evils of Australia (and Auckland, too, for that matter). Let's face it: they are really us. To the rest of the world, the fine distinctions we'd like to draw are largely invisible. There's a lot more to lose than there is to gain by clinging to silly provincial prejudices. Most of the population of Auckland was born elsewhere anyway, so how much logical sense can be attributed to this alleged "difference" anyway?

It may begin as a joke, but fomenting irrational hatreds does tend to end up by making them only too horribly real. So the history of Europe over the last century or so would suggest, at any rate. And the awful thing is that Aucklanders don't really, by and large, have any particular negative feelings about the rest of New Zealand at all. We just don't think about it. Those of us who like to travel tend to regard the whole kit and kaboodle as our own country. Why on earth would we want to restrict ourselves solely to the vistas we're used to at home?


[Jack Ross: Newmarket (2004)]