Defence, Dignity and Disaster.
JENNA KELLY
JENNA KELLY
OPINION / AOTEAROA
The sinking of the HMNZS Manawanui, the questionable role of the NZDF and Aotearoa‘s identity crisis.
Aotearoa New Zealand is a distant, sheltered island nation, known for its laid-back lifestyle. Our news tends towards mundane, amusing stories. We brush off adversity with a casual “she’ll be right” and we keep mostly to ourselves in daily life.
Yet the news that the HMNZS Manawanui sank near the coast of Samoa in 2024 seems to have skirted most people’s attention. Despite our supposed lack of ‘anything interesting’ happening on our shores, I’ve barely heard about the incident, which bordered on a disaster for both the crew and the locals of Upola.
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Let’s briefly explore the sinking of the NZ Navy ship. In October last year, the ($100 million) Navy ship sank off the coast of Upola, Samoa. In the midst of a marine survey, the ship grounded several times on a swath of reef, catching fire shortly after the crew evacuated safely. Reports show that the crew forgot the ship’s autopilot was on, thwarting efforts to reroute the ship as it sped towards the reef. Shortly after the sinking, locals reported oil-tainted fish, the smell of diesel and sheens of oil on the water in the ship’s vicinity. A great fuss was kicked up by the Navy and our Minister of Defense Judith Collins, and several (futile) promises of removing the 950 tonnes of diesel fuel were made over the following months. Eventually, three months after the sinking of the ship, the fuel extraction began on January 2nd. As of a week later, 100,000 tonnes had been removed successfully.
While the Navy and by extension Aotearoa has taken important steps to clean up their mess, locals were not so easily placated. Some rebuked the long wait for a cleanup crew, expressing concern for the loss of fishing grounds and damage to the reef, and several criticised the lack of apology and punctual communication. Navy Commodore Brown has continually reassured anyone paying attention to the NZDF that, “While this response is complex and technical, New Zealand is committed to doing the right thing.” Well, at least we’re committed. He goes on to remind us about five times about the “complex and technical” nature of the situation.
This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the environmental fallout of military activity in the Pacific, and much of the world for that matter. The region has long been treated as a convenient dumping ground for the consequences of militarism—shipwrecks, waste, and of course, the nuclear testing spree conducted by Western powers after the Second World War. The callousness of these actions speaks for itself. And while global militaries will carry on about the “complex and technical” nature of their operations, their environmental accountability tends to be an afterthought.
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Perhaps the sinking of an expensive Navy ship is frustrating news, but otherwise meaningless to you and me. But if we consider this event a little closer, we can ponder the importance of such expensive and damaging mistakes. Currently the New Zealand Navy has 8 ships in operation. Most of them are used “to ensure the security and prosperity” of our country via “maritime security patrols and surveillance operations” which is all well and good. But who are we defending from exactly? Our allies in the West have no reason to invade, attack or take over this land—relatively empty (to Minerals Minister Jones’ dismay) of precious minerals, oil or other resources. Not strategically positioned either, sitting in the middle of the Pacific ocean as it were. Our biggest asset might be the capacity for rocket launching and testing, but even that can be done in America or elsewhere. Hence I begin to question the inarguable necessity of a defence force.
The New Zealand Defense Force budget sits around $4.9 billion this year. While this has slightly reduced from last year, it is still a significant amount of money. And when that much money is being spent, it is prudent to be aware of what it is going towards. Is this the most effective use of our money? We seem to be raised with the mindset that the military is the only thing that can keep us safe. That without an army ready to fight off attackers, we are helpless, and at the mercy of the world’s evils. Without considering what those evils are, where they come from, or how we would even defeat them. With a combat-ready force of only about 8,900 and 3,000 reserves, we aren’t exactly equipped to deal with any powerful nation that would seek to invade us.
Forget a foreign invasion, the biggest problems facing this country today are arguably not defence-related. Climate change presents immediate and devastating consequences—with severe flooding and weather events already occurring close to home in the Far North and Dunedin in recent years. Our hospitals and entire public health system are underfunded. Disabled people may still face wages as low as $2 per hour due to blatantly unethical minimum wage loopholes. People are scrambling to cross the Tasman for a decent income. Social services face relentless cuts, our social science and humanities research funds are being slashed, and renters face uncertainty and instability while landlords are basically handed free cash. None of these issues can be solved by the NZDF. None of these issues are caused by overseas turmoil. We should be turning our focus to the social threats within our borders, not the prospect of needing to defend them from foreign actors.
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Over the decades, the military has come to form a large part of our national identity. Each year we celebrate our beloved ANZAC heroes, singing the praises of the brave New Zealand soldiers fighting alongside our international brethren. This is of course omitting atrocities such as the killing of villagers in Surafend, Palestine, in 1918. The confusion, doubt and war crime allegations surrounding NZSAS operations in Afghanistan in the last 20 years. And more recently, sending troops into the Red Sea to defend shipments to the apartheid state of Israel. These surface as stains on the army’s ‘Good Kiwi’ identity, raising questions on the impact of those actions—the good and the bad.
Steve Bell on the Gulf War (1990), Steve Bell, 2490-18-9-90 CAMELSIGHT, 1990
Our national identity should rather be built on our virtues. On our compassion, our strength, our ability to come together in times of need. We should be known throughout the world for our advancements in peacekeeping, for our generosity and humanity, just as we were renowned for being the first to bravely become nuclear-free. Violence only ever brings more violence. A better world can’t be fought for with guns and bombs, can’t be won through vanquishing our enemies. We should turn our efforts instead to building a better society; where people have enough food, shelter, education, all the basics required to access opportunities in life. Allowing people to feel secure, in turn shaping a safer society.
I don’t claim to have the answers, or even know all of the problems we face. I merely present alternatives to the deeply entrenched mentality that we require a military, and that it is irreplaceable.
Costa Rica, a nation with a similar population to us, abolished its military some 80 years ago to focus on social development. Think of what an additional almost-five-billion dollars a year could do for our nation’s welfare. Instead of sinking funds—quite literally—into ships that ground themselves on reefs and harm the environmental outcomes of our neighbours, our allies, we could invest in housing, healthcare, education, and climate resilience. Costa Rica’s success shows that security isn’t synonymous with a fleet (in the loosest sense of the term) of warships; it’s about strong communities, equitable access to resources, and a planet that can sustain future generations.
With the lifelong mental illnesses and problems that soldiers face, the extraordinary cost of war— be it social, economic or environmental—and the very real fact that it doesn’t serve as a solution to the problems it faces, I wonder whether we are putting too much faith in the myth of the NZDF. Whether it’s time to consider something different, something that hasn’t been done before in this country. Break tradition and refuse to idolise those who don’t represent our values; whether in power or in the army, those who don’t lead in a manner we can respect.
In the face of climate disaster, economic uncertainty, and a government that seems set on selling out our futures, uprooting the norm might be the only way to get us out of this mess.
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Jenna Kelly