Thursday, 17 August 2017

Christchurch, Aotearoa (New Zealand)

Christchurch skyline, 2015
Violence on the street usually means people perpetrating anger against other people. For the inhabitants of Christchurch in New Zealand on 22nd February 2011 something far more frightening was happening. In ten seconds a hundred and fifty years of progressive urban settlement, agricultural development and commercial enterprise was disabled. This was not human induced horror. This was nature, or providence, at work. The lexicon of earthquakes fails dismally to convey to northern Europeans what the Kiwis felt that day and the months that followed.

I and other nesh British cannot know what Cantabrians (Christchurch is the largest city in the region of Canterbury) habitually live through. Winds from their south bring freezing rain from Antarctica. Winds from the north and west bring heat and dust from the Australian outback. Then on 4th September 2010 the city is tossed in the air by mashing tectonic plates below the earth’s crust. The earthquake strikes at 4:30 in the morning. Residents, who are mostly in bed in their reinforced houses, survive the quake. But public buildings such as cathedrals, car parks, sports stadia, shops and offices are not reinforced. Foundations, walls and roofs are weakened. At the day’s end, despite the aftershocks, the people breathe a sigh of relief. They think they have survived ‘the big one’. They are mistaken. Six months later another quake strikes at 12:51 p.m. This time residents and visitors are up and about. A hundred and eighty six of them die as buildings burst around them and implode in piles of brick and stone.

It is doubtful that John Robert Godley, an Oxford educated and Tory religious zealot, (possibly a Tory toff as well) knew much about earthquakes in 1850 when, with a few like-minded English establishment types, he founded the Canterbury Association in London. Their plan was to choose a place on the other side of the globe to create a pure and Anglican settlement. It was designed to exclude the harmful influences of a newfound egalitarianism that was sweeping through the Church of England.  In late 1850 they landed on the south island of New Zealand. They found a fertile unexplored land on a river. (The first people to live in this region were the Ngai Tahu tribe who had a small seasonal village on the banks of the river. They hunted the Moa, a large flightless bird, to extinction, and the tribe moved on). Being loyal Oxonians the men from Christ Church College named the place Christchurch. They wanted to call the water the River Thames. One of the pilgrims thought this a bit naff so he persuaded his friends to chose the name Avon instead. He was from Stratford-upon-Avon!
Christ Church College, Oxford
Why Godley and his fellows settled in Christchurch was due principally to three factors: an absence of Maoris; a plentiful hinterland of wide, flat and open spaces that would be crop friendly; there was a natural port. Further, unlike Australia, this antipodean landscape has a kinder climate, few poisonous creatures and lots of water. Back in Britain the dispossessed and the poor and members of the underclass could hear from the mouths of convicts who had done their time in New South Wales, tales of deprivation, savages and starvation. Godley sent back more positive reports on the Canterbury region of New Zealand. Thus, within five years, thousands of British immigrants arrived.

Now, this is where the plot really thickens. It becomes intriguing and comes with cautionary hindsight for us Europeans. Readers of a nervous disposition should move over to Catherine Cookson or Jeffrey Archer if awful reality is unpalatable.

Michael King, in his exceptionally readable history of New Zealand, says of the immigrants, “in global terms…the development of New Zealand in the second half of the nineteenth century was a subplot in the diaspora of Europeans that sent as many as 50 million people from the old world to the New over a period of 200 years”. Christchurch stayed essentially English in style from its inception and the nearby landscape was exploited with British farming techniques. This was all achieved by small-scale private enterprise. If a settler farmer wanted to chop down trees or dam a river he just went right ahead. But in time the soil became both tired and vulnerable to the extremes of weather. So the farmers looked further afield for more land – and then poured billions of tons of fertilisers into the soil. 

Rural Maoris from the north island, a proud people but eager to assimilate to the pakeha (European) social mores were attracted by jobs on the farms and in the city. By the 1950s 30% of the Maori population lived in urban areas. By 1996 this figure stood at 81%. Attracted (goodness knows why) by the bright lights of Christchurch, Maoris and the labouring class immigrants from Britain operated in a tightening economic environment.

As with the Aborigines in Australia, yet in a much shorter time, Maoris have come to love the New Zealand landscape and understand it’s secrets, it’s power, it’s climate. What they could not comprehend completely was European industrial and agricultural processes. These Western systems include fertilisers, intense irrigation and tarmac roads that take no account of the harmful impacts of such mechanisms on the environment. Yet the British promoted these inventions as integral to progressive development. By the recent millennium the Cantabrian rivers were choking with pollution, caused by modern farming practices.

Bringing the habit of raids on the landscape up to date comes the plan by the Central Plains Water scheme to provide irrigation for tens of thousands of acres of land. Local protesters - against investment for the privileged few and for the purity of naturally routing rivers - erected a cairn in Cathedral Square in Christchurch (itself overlooked by the ruins of the Anglican cathedral) that reads:
Cathedral Square cairn


In order to advance the massive irrigation schemes proposed for the Canterbury plains, the hard won conservation orders on our headwaters have been disestablished, our elected Environment council has been disembodied, and our right to appeal to the Environment court has been removed. Indeed, Cantabrians are now subject to laws separate from any other province of our country. This is a breach of the Bill of Rights and its principles of natural justice. It is the wish of the people who built this cairn that it remains here until democracy entire is returned to us.



The anger and protestation over the predisposition of ‘big business’ has sent warnings to the elected officials in Christchurch and the capital, Auckland. The scenario is not too far removed from the actions by The National Trust in the Lake District in England. In fact, all over the world, empowered locals – foreseeing perhaps a Gotterdammerung in their local landscapes – are having their say, in effect proclaiming: we have seen enough of the effects of man’s greed and damage to the land in the name of progress; the Maoris, the Aborigines, and the First Nations have seen pakeha rape the land and now we join them in protest; such continuing disregard for us and landscapes must be stopped.

In Britain I read regularly  that New Zealand is one of the most desirable places in which to live and grow up. Wealthy personalities from Hollywood, Europe and China are buying up properties so they can grab some exclusivity for themselves. in the nineteenth century the landscape fought hard to repel the voracious pakeha. Forests were felled and rivers were dammed. The waters are still being poisoned today. At last, however, groups of passionate and informed Kiwis are telling anyone who will listen that the landscape is a valuable and delicate resource. It is high time man began to plan for the next generations to actually have a landscape they can admire, wonder at and appreciate. If we don't conserve now - and do the same in so many other landscapes around the world - our children's children will not be able to feed themselves.

On our visit to Christchurch in 2015 I was unprepared for the devastation before us on the streets – even after four years. Those streets still bear the names of British writers and poets such as Carlyle, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Macaulay, Ruskin and Byron. As we walked with our generous hosts, Mike and Joy, there was an eerie hush, even silence on those streets. Our visit coincided with that of the England cricket team. The correspondent of The Times of London, Michael Atherton, wrote a beautifully articulate piece: “Those who work in sport are always acutely aware of the artificial lives we lead, pontificating on screen and in print about a great triviality. Just occasionally, though, our paths cross the kinds of things that foreign reporters, war reporters and news reporters take for granted. Whenever we do, it is usually to cover sport in the aftermath of a crisis such as the Christchurch earthquake… and every time we do the importance of this great triviality hits home”.

The earthly symbols of the earthquakes are the mystical Cardboard Cathedral and a poignant collection of 185 white chairs (one for each of the lives lost in 2011). Both sites form a memorial to the dead and, I like to think, a reminder to Man that he had better stop pillaging this land, this beautiful and bewitching land beloved by hobbits, pakeha and me.

On 4th September 2010 the gods gave a warning to the pakeha about his custodianship of the Christchurch and Canterbury landscape. It would appear the pakeha were not listening. So the gods spoke again on 22nd February 2011. Maybe this was their final warning.

Inside the Cardboard Cathedral
The Cardboard Cathedral





One white chair for each victim



If you would like to share your experiences of the places discussed in this blog please record them in the Comments section.  

Compared to the large number of books about other landscapes, Christchurch and the south island of New Zealand, feature in a short list but with literary prize winning titles.                                                                                                                                                                                                     
Non-fiction: -
·      The Penguin History of New Zealand; Michael King; 2003
·      New Zealand; Elisabeth Booz & Andrew Hempstead; 1989
·      New Zealand; Laura Harper et al; 8/e; 2012

Fiction: -
·      The Colour; Rose Tremaine;
·      The Bone People; Keri Hume; 1984


Books by the authors referenced can be bought at: https://bookshop.blackwell.co.uk

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