The Case for Blood Curdling Cries

A few weeks ago, Off Black posted about the hakae that are all the rage at the Rugby World Cup these days.

 


The All Blacks may have started the whole "dance and intimidate" thing on the rugby pitch, but these days, other Pacific Island nations have their own versions, some of them a bit more motional than the traditional All Black one.  This may be why the New Zealand team now has the new throat-slitting version, as the spectacle stakes continue to escalate and where only the most active pre-game warm up can survive (well, probably not).  Perhaps the American team will adopt a whole Bring It On cheerleader style routine before their matches to join in the not-game fun, though I doubt those kind of antics will really throw the opposition off much - not that a haka probably does that either; and at least a haka doesn't completely exhaust the players beforehand.

But the Americans don't really need their own pre-match signature dance.  Because, in the international war song sweepstakes, the American Eagles have one of the most inspirational threats around. 





Sure, if you sing it slowly, degenerate it into a warble-strewn ego-driven travesty, or leave it to someone like Roseanne Barr to interpret in their own style, the Star Spangled Banner can end up sounding like a funeral dirge or something that one invites the throwing of tomatoes.  But done well, with hand on heart flag waving (a difficult manoeuvre to be sure, but years of Twister practice can help) and a small pin attached to one's lapel, there is nothing quite like it.  It's a call to arms, a call to war, to defend and to attack.  And it does get the blood flowing.

But (and I must admit to a lot of personal prejudice in this case), more rousing than the American national anthem, drowning out the haka of nations with the brute force of voices raised in song, a motionless emotional invitation to quake, you can't really go past the French national anthem, La Mareillaise.

The lyrics themselves are... something else. 

 

Of course, in a multi-lingual sense, haka make a lot more impact in that they get the message across without the need to understand what anyone is actually saying.  Yelling (or singing) at people really loudly is pretty standard in any culture, especially for anyone who has ever gone out on a Friday or Saturday night, so a loud song that is belted out by anything less than a choir is something that, by itself, most people can just ignore.  However, slapping thighs, poking out tongues, fist pumps and punches - these grab the attention no matter how few people are involved, and, en masse, it is definitely a sight to behold.

So, in the absence of a national anthem designed to intimidate all opposition (calling upon a deity to intervene in defence of a country is not a great rallying cry for resistance and/or conquest), its great to think that New Zealand (and other nations) have haka that can bring a fire to the belly that respectful singing of God Defend New Zealand cannot.  



Of course, not all calls to arms need to last minutes or involve coordinated movement.  The Australians may like to advance fairly, but there is nothing quite like a few short and sharp rounds of "Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi!" to get them motivated.
 

Verdict:  It may all be a game, but national pride is a serious business.  Whether it is overused or underaggressive or not always treated with the respect it deserves, the haka is (or are?) a way to show opponents that Kiwis mean business.  But lets not forget that other countries let their anthems do the talking, or intimidating, and have been doing so for centuries.  In the end, a song and/or a dance won't win the war, but it will make a pretty interesting spectacle.  4 cups* for all the anthems and haka at the Rugby World Cup out of 5.

* minus one, as I have yet to hear the Aussie chant.