The haka is a great Polynesian tradition. But using it in rugby is unfair on players because it cannot always be contested and unfair on rugby as an institution because it creates unnecessary problems for a global sport. Banning it from pre-match rugby rituals is the only way to go
A haka on the rugby pitch gets out of control
(South Africa v New Zealand).
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For many the haka and rugby is an emotive issue. So let us be 100% clear that just because the haka has no place in rugby pre-match rituals does not mean disrespect is intended to either to the haka or to Polynesian culture. Haka traditions are a fine Polynesian and Maori heritage that has survived for centuries and long may they flourish.
Nevertheless it seems inevitable and fair that the haka must be removed from the rugby pitch, or to be exact from the pre-match ritual of rugby matches.
For the avoidance of doubt "haka" refers generally to the war dance and related ceremonies practiced by many Pacific nations. In terms of rugby hakas New Zealand is probably the most famous but they are not the only country to have haka culture. Practitioners on the rugby pitch also include Samoa and Tonga and Fiji. Their version of the haka is different but has a fine history that deserves preservation outside rugby. The combined Pacific Islander haka (Samoa and Tonga and Fiji rolled into one) may be a curious trilogy which goes on a bit and seems a little close to the Hokey Cokey in parts but makes fascinating viewing.
Now the focus needs to be on haka and rugby and whether they should go together. The International Rugby Board (IRB) has made pretty good progress in writing down not just the regulations but also the spirit of the heavenly game of rugby. Here are two key excerpts from the IRB Playing Charter (2005):
Object: "The Object of the Game is that two teams each of fifteen players, observing fair play, according to the Laws and in a sporting spirit should, by carrying, passing, kicking and grounding the ball, score as many points as possible"
Contest and Continuity: "The contest for possession of the ball is one of Rugby’s key features"
The IRB stresses two central and connected ideas: "two teams" and "contest".This is common sense writ fancy looike. What it is saying is that rugby players and teams must have equal rights of contest. The game only thrives when gritty and courageous actions have opposing reactions. To make rugby into rugby it needs thirty players and not fifteen.
So how come this graceful balance and very clear IRB position gets forgotten when the haka appears? When Zinzan Brooke of New Zealand said this about the haka he seemed to speak for many New Zealanders and Polynesians: 'I knew when I could see fear in a guy’s eyes and sometimes they just had to stand there and take it. That felt fantastic.' Mr Brooke knows his rugby so one hesitates to point out this rather slurs rugby. But it does rather slur rugby. How can anyone revel in the spirit of a game founded on equality where an opponent has no prospect of competing and instead must stand there and take it? Surely rugby is bigger and better than this?
Surely, too, Mr Brooke's comments and the thinking behind them force us to recognise dispassionately that an important part of the haka runs contrary to rugby. There are laws about how many players can be on the pitch and what they do when they are on the pitch. The haka is traditionally performed by twenty-two players despite Rule 3.1 of the IRB which states 'Each team must have no more than fifteen players on the playing area.' By deploying a full squad on the pitch the haka sends a signal that it is exempt from usual rugby laws about players on the pitch.
A thin end of an unpleasant wedge
Many people including myself grew up thinking the haka was a charming and colourful part of world rugby. In large part this may be attributed to New Zealand as the most famous proponent of the haka. It is a very together country - peaceful, prosperous, inclusive of new immigrants, many of whom end up in the national rugby team. Beyond its great contribution to rugby New Zealand is also at the forefront of human rights and multiculturalism and liberalism and many other wholly admiral things.
These favourable impressions of New Zealand (and other countries in Polynesia) may be true or exaggerated or a bit of both but accepting rights to the haka creates a ticklish conundrum. The haka is, in effect, a unique cultural tradition. That it comes from a great place of the world is a separate point. If the IRB says the haka has a place in the pre-match ritual then that can and must mean every rugby playing nation has rights to unique cultural traditions. What is good for goose is good for gander.
It is very difficult to see how these universal rights to unique cultural displays before matches plays out benevolently for rugby in the long term. Immediately the image of Jesse Owens in 1936 having to endure the racist slurs of Nazis at the Berlin Olympics comes to mind. Doubtless the German explanation went something along the lines of this is our unique culture and we wish to express it with opponents.
Another example: Japan. Picking on Japan is ticklish because they are now a peaceful and a great rugby nation in the making. It has been terrific watching their rugby develop over recent years. Nevertheless there have been persistent tensions with China and Sino-Japanese wars have happened in each of the last four centuries so who would bet against a repeat match in the twenty-first century.
It is not incomprehensible that Japanese politicians may hijack the Japan RFU (Rugby Football Union). Hardline politicians may decide it is ichiban for the national team to perform militaristic banzai screams before playing China or indeed other teams. The sight of the Japanese pack saluting the sun will have obviously risible overtones for China and for all the world.
Administrators and players at Japan Rugby would probably be fuming but this is the rub: they would have no choice. Neither would the IRB. Militarist Japanese politicians could exploit the haka and claim banzai gestures are a unique Japanese cultural tradition. As a tradition equal in legacy to the haka so they can perform the gestures on the rugby pitch against the Chinese. If the Chinese or the IRB or other gaijin think it echoes past crimes against humanity that is hard luck.
The own goal caused by placing unique cultural rituals before games does not start or end in Asia. Rwanda may one day play Burundi and who knows what dreadful African rituals might be stirred. In Europe an ascendant Germany may finally get good at rugby as they re-ignite taste for Nazi symbolism. Scotland may take it on themselves to offer the middle finger before playing England and who could chastise them for that? In the same way the Samoans claim a right to imitate axe throwing before matches the Scots could claim a right to make a national tribute to archers in the battles of Bannockburn or Sherriffmuir or Prestonpans or other battles over the Old (English) Enemy.
These examples might sound exaggerated but none are logically impossible. Each grim possibility adds sinew to the central and worrying conclusion: affording Polynesian nations rights to perform hakas on the rugby pitch also affords rights to others too and some of them could be the extreme nutters of our future. It is quite possible the amiable haka of today’s rugby is actually holding tomorrow’s rugby hostage.
It was homicidal aggression, m'lud
The haka in its underlying sense is a challenge. It invites and symbolises one important message: if you must die then die for a purpose bigger than yourself. Vainglorious perhaps. But it is no coincidence that the New Zealand Army includes the haka in training and performs it before taking the battlefield. Kiwi sociologists and commentators have noted the haka may enflame marital and also other martial violence. On this it is hard to agree, at least for this author, because the haka can and should be a controlled and sensible part of life outside the rugby pitch. It is central to Polynesian culture.
Nonetheless it is rather hard to disagree with some people's thinking that the violent gesturing in the haka symbolically contravenes Rule 10.4(a) of the IRB: Punching or striking. A player must not strike an opponent with the fist or the arm, including the elbow, shoulder head or knee(s).)
The haka is quite different from coaches pre-game team talks. It is highly visible and unambiguous. So this means there is another worrying hypothetical raised by the haka. What happens when one player – lets say he or she is a tighthead prop – becomes so passionate that in the opening breakdown they punch an opponent’s nose using the flat of the hand and inflict rather more than a broken nose. Cerebral hemorrhages have happened in sport before and they will happen again. It amounts to manslaughter and after such a tragedy the courts will get involved, the press too.
Naturally the defence of the tighthead prop would grope around for whatever they could. Accident, hand of the devil, too much caffeine, aggressive coaches briefing, any and all excuses would appear. And one argument would almost certainly include something along these lines: 'My clients behaviour, M’Lud, was driven by violent endorphins activated by the haka.'
If you are sceptical that activated homicidal aggression, or whatever the psychiatrists would christen this new emotion, could be a defence in court think carefully. This defence is as real a prospect as other nations abusing a right to perform cultural ceremonies before matches. Think of all the other nonsense defences these days, from post-traumatic stress caused by hot coffee spills to sexual harassment because of a funny glance in the elevator. If any of our children or friends were engulfed by tragic situations we would embrace absurd legal defences in an instant. The haka in other words holds definite legal downsides for rugby.
The need for New Zealand to lead the change Here is some press from a real event in New Zealand: "The referee, concerned that the challenges, accompanied by eye-rolling, tongue poking and aggressive gestures, might incite violence, warned the players to stay at least 10 yards apart. When an unidentified [Team A] player crossed the line to take his challenge to the [Team B] players, the referee immediately sent him from the field and he spent the first 10 minutes of the match in the sin-bin.”
This is about a haka that got out of control. One player had to be punished to prevent violence. And this was before the match even started.
Doubtless many thought it was good entertainment. But it is worth carefully thinking this one through. Surely this incident logically confirms that if the haka does continue as part of pre-match rugby rituals, sooner or later the Pacific nations and also the New Zealand Rugby Football Union (NZRFU) and the IRB and others have to take a position on pre-match hand bagging and other engagements during the haka.
And that means New Zealand may end up taking rugby to wholly new dimensions. Do we need more rules, and enforcement of those rules, before the referee even blows the whistle? Is this a ball of knitting rugby should really get involved with?
Banning the haka from the rugby pitch does not mean the haka is inappropriate for life outside rugby. As a spectacle it must not die. Possibly, hakas may merit a place in pre-match warm ups and entertainment when opposing players are not close. Whether Polynesian teams would still perform the haka without the possibilty of unfiarly intimadating opposing players we might wonder. That would be up to them. But one rather suspects haka artistes would not be so cavalier with their pre-match energy if there was no unfair advantage.
As shared owners of this wonderful game we must recognise both the belief and the hope that all rugby-playing countries (and all rugby fans) have equal rights. Primary of these is the right to expect other nations to honour the international rules and the fairplay that characterises rugby. Many may be sad to see the haka disappear from the rugby pitch. But we should all respectfully agree that this IRB ruling represents an end to the matter: Rule 10.4(k): Acts contrary to good sportsmanship. A player must not do anything that is against the spirit of good sportsmanship in the playing enclosure. Enough said.
