Reflections on identity...

They say that distance brings perspective – perhaps this is why after travelling halfway around the world I can now recognise my cultural identity with such beautiful simplicity. I have been away for nearly two years now; one of the 600,000 New Zealand ex pats who’ve left their home in search of opportunity and adventure abroad. I can still remember the process of leaving so clearly – flying, for the first time, over the Tasman Sea and beyond, seeing the dark green tip of the North Island disappearing miles below me and the infinite blue of the ocean stretching ahead. It was such a surreal feeling – a strange mixture of anguish and exhilaration, of profound loss but limitless freedom.

As a Pakeha, or tau iwi New Zealander, I never really felt like I had a right to claim spiritual connection with the land in Aotearoa, that it wouldn’t be legitimate somehow, that my land lay somewhere offshore, somewhere “out there”. The process of leaving and experiencing life in Europe has proved me undeniably wrong. The feeling of separation remains acute, like I am missing a part of myself, a piece of my soul that must lie deep within the folds of the earth. Such a fundamental part of my being that it means I never feel truly whole while I remain away. Indeed, the longer I am away the more I seem to realise how well Aotearoa New Zealand represents who I am.

The process of my own self-realisation must also somehow echo the process of a nation’s self-realisation: the formation of our collective cultural identity in this new era of Aotearoa New Zealand. Last weekend I stood in the grey, numbing cold of London’s city centre, watching the unveiling of the new war memorial in Hyde Park. It seemed an interesting representation of our nation; this modern, powerful bronze statue christened with a waiata, a haka, a prayer, a speech from our elected leader and Dave Dobbyn singing the poignant “Welcome Home”.

But what I felt truly reflected our nation was the words that were left unsaid. As the leaders of New Zealand and the United Kingdom spoke diplomatically of our past alliance – how we fought “side by side” in the great wars “for democracy” – I thought of Iraq. Pride swelled in my chest as I realised how our refusal to participate in that illegal war defined us with far more accuracy than any kiwifruit coloured tourism board spin. No one can now dispute the foresight our government had in standing up against the US led war; as we watch Iraq burn for a second time I can only feel a deep respect for Helen Clark in facing the animosity she must have received from our previous “allies”.

As I stood stamping my feet from the cold that morning the phrase coined by John Sawhill came clearly to mind: “A society is defined not only by what it creates, but by what it refuses to destroy”. These words seem to represent the collective identity of our nation so well. I began to think of the way that Aotearoa New Zealand has defined itself to the world over the past twenty years – breaking away from the traditional alliances of Australia and Britain and clearly marking its place in the South Pacific as a unique and independent land.

As a nation we have indeed defined ourselves through what we have refused to destroy. Our nation’s leaders have stood strong against larger nations in defending our values – a shining example of this being the overwhelming support of Aotearoa New Zealand being nuclear free, an act which cemented our self-determination and proclaimed our pacifist ideals to the greater world. As with Iraq, in doing so we faced hostility from our “allies” but in standing unified as a nation with a strong leader (this time in David Lange) we solidified our national identity. Again, in our opposition to the apartheid state in South Africa we stood unified as a nation against racial injustice and in doing so reaffirmed our own social values.

We are a land rich in diversity of colour and creed, but as our short history has shown, our unification in that diversity is what has made us strong. I believe this diversity should be even greater celebrated, with a deeper understanding of all the cultures comprising our nation being paramount. From my experiences of living in London – a city of incredible racial diversity but very little racial harmony or understanding – this belief has only been strengthened. Xenophobia seems to be a disease that nibbles at the edges of any diverse society and I believe that education and integration are the only real solutions to this. The more we understand each other, the greater unity we will have and the stronger we will be for it. What makes us special are our differences, but what makes us all New Zealanders is our equality.

It is essential that our protectionist nature, our refusal to destroy, must also extend to our biodiversity. While our tourism industry likes to promote Aotearoa New Zealand as a clean, green paradise we can all recognise that this is quite far from the truth. I spent some time working on a forest restoration project in the Scottish Highlands where I truly realised the timescales involved with restoring wilderness. The Caledonian Forest was once a magnificent being that covered a huge part of the United Kingdom and was rich in flora and fauna alike: now only 1% of this giant remains and the majority of the species that depended upon it have been destroyed. The reason for this was unsustainable agricultural development and excessive monoculture forestry… bringing hauntingly to mind the development of our own fragile land. Scotland now faces an enormous and hugely expensive task in restoring this vast wilderness and it is fighting a losing battle to save the last of its rare birds and insect life. It takes a long time for a tree, or a person, to grow and a very short time to cut one down. Seeing as Aotearoa has only been developed in modern terms for less than 200 years it seems that it won’t take long before we reduce our natural habitat, our places of wilderness, to the same state as the forests of Scotland today – the sombre skeleton of a mighty giant.

Dangers to both our social and environmental integrity exist in many forms. I am sure these can all be loosely defined as being primarily motivated by greed. The recent attacks on our nuclear free status was warning enough to me that a distinct shift toward Australian / American policy is occurring. Likewise, a warning bell was heard with the proposal by Mighty River Power to convey coal across the Ruakaka Conversation Area; a proposal that has been indicated to be approved in its initial stages by the Department of Conservation – a government department supposedly established to protect such integral pieces of land and the biodiversity so essential to all life forms. This land is owned by all of us, and by future generations of New Zealanders to whom we owe a duty to protect it. These proposals begin so insidiously and receive very little media attention – if it wasn’t for the dedication of independent environmental campaign groups then the corporations who lobby for environmentally destructive projects would have even greater success.

It is easy to forget our individual responsibility in defending both our social values and our environment. The apathy-inducing beast of consumerism preys on New Zealanders of a younger and younger age with increasing intensity; sometimes it feels very difficult to separate what is real from the conditions of a world built on corporate interests. To me, this fast changing social climate gives more weight to the argument for increased wilderness preservation. I think we will all mourn the days of a country where our children were not the subjects of constant surreptitious advertising: the more time I spend in intensive city environments the greater I appreciate my childhood on Ohope Beach where the stores totalled no more than 10 and the majority of which were independent and locally-supportive.

Of course it is easy to label this all a utopian vision and admittedly there is some amount of rose-tinted nostalgia in my reflections, but I think that “utopian visions” are precisely what our nation requires. A utopian vision measures the difference between our current situation and that of where we aspire to be. The more we keep our ideals in mind, the closer we will become to achieving them.

I am proud to call myself a New Zealander. I know where I am from and I know what my origins represent. They represent justice. Travelling overseas has taught me much about foreign culture and environment, but it has taught me even more about myself. I will never again doubt my deep connection with the land of my birth. My belief in myself and my belief in my country have been solidified. I now know what we, as a nation, must defend.

In the face of climate change, deforestation, soil erosion, over fishing, species extinction, nuclear power and consumerism it is imperative that as a people we maintain our sense of identity, our self-determination, our refusal to destroy. We must all recognise our spiritual connection with the land and our inherent personal responsibility to protect it, as well as the many diverse beings that belong to it. In doing so, we will not only be recognising our trade mark, but the key to our survival.