Speech
Welcome Sweet Peace
May I begin by greeting everyone in the languages of the realm of New Zealand, in English, Maori, Cook Island Maori, Niuean, Tokelauan and New Zealand Sign Language. Greetings, Kia Ora, Kia Orana, Fakalofa Lahi Atu, Taloha Ni and as it is the evening (Sign)
May I specifically greet you: Dr Hon Richard Worth, Minister Responsible for the National Library; Penny Carnaby, National Librarian; Andrew Francis, Exhibition curator; Representatives from the New Zealand Defence Force and the Diplomatic Corps; Distinguished Guests otherwise; Ladies and Gentlemen.
It was with pleasure that my wife Susan and I accepted the initiation to attend the opening of this exhibition, Welcome Sweet Peace: Returning Home after the Great War, here at the National Library Te Puna Matauranga o Aotearoa.
As Governor-General, I have been asked to formally open the exhibition, and two other smaller exhibitions about Leo Bensemann and John Milton, but before I do I would like to speak briefly as to the significance of the events Welcome Sweet Peace commemorates.
This is the second exhibition I have opened as the part of the Coming Home: Te Hokinga Mai initiative, the first being the Impressive Silence exhibition at the nearby National Archives.
I wish to congratulate everyone involved in promoting this commendable initiative that marks the 90th anniversary of Armistice Day, the end of the First World War.
But while Impressive Silence focused on the enormous grief that the loss of so many young New Zealanders' lives caused to the psyche of our nation, this exhibition focuses on those who returned home.
While 90 years later we refer to the conflict as the First World War, to the people of the time, it was the Great War. It was described as "the war to end all wars". Such was the carnage and injury that the conflict caused that many people could not conceive another war on such a scale.
On top of the more than 18,000 New Zealanders who lost their lives, a further 50,000 were wounded. All this suffering was borne by a nation with a population of little over a million people. The more than 450 First World War memorials that are part of almost every town and city of NewZealand stand as a vivid reminder to that great outpouring of grief.
As a result, there was then a fervent desire for peace. New Zealand signed the Treaty of Versailles in its own right—the first time it had ever taken a step of this kind. New Zealand was also a founding member of the League of Nations. The League had a mandate to secure world peace, but sadly found that this was not able to be achieved.
The desire for peace remained strong. In 1932, in opening the Hall of Memories in the AucklandWarMemorialMuseum, my predecessor Lord Charles John Bledisloe said that New Zealand was "praying" for the success of the Disarmament Conference that was then underway in Geneva.
The conference failed, but Bledisloe's perceptive words at the opening pinpointed the eventual cause. In my view, he rightly said: "Let us remember that to be effective there must be disarmament not only in the engines of war, but in mutual animosities and suspicions, both national and individual."
The servicemen and women who returned to New Zealand came home to a nation that was inevitably different from that which they had left. During their absence, those pushing for a ban on the sale and consumption of alcohol had grown and it was only the returning soldier's votes that reversed a provisional win for prohibition. Having suffered terribly in battle, there was no way the servicemen were going to be denied the few quiet beers with their mates.
Those returning also found the nation recovering from the influenza epidemic, which claimed more than 8,000 lives, so celebrations on their return home were inevitably muted. The end of the War was soon to be followed by an economic slump and many of those returning home found there were few jobs for them.
While they were away, those who served overseas had also changed. They had suffered and had seen unimaginable horrors in places such as Gallipoli and the Somme and Passchendale. Those experiences bound them together and many made friendships that would last for the rest of their lives.
The formation of the Royal New Zealand Returned and Services' Association in 1916 was not only a practical means to provide essential services to support the survivors, but also provided a vehicle to ensure that the sacrifice of those who had not returned would never be forgotten. It provided an outlet where they could share their experiences—experiences that friends and family could not understand, and which they often did not want to know about.
By bringing together an array of material including photographs, music, posters and cartoons from the collections of the Alexander Turnbull Library, this exhibition is a window into that time.
It shows not only the diverse ways in which the end of hostilities was commemorated, but also highlights how the home front underwent a transformation during and after the War.
The euphoria that greeted the end of the war was soon to be tempered by the realities of post-war life.
To end I will quote from the writings of New Zealand author, Dan Davin. While he was writing of those who returned after the Second World War, his comments equally apply to those who returned from the First World War. He said: "We'd never be able to make friends again the same way or drink and laugh and die the same way. We'd used up what we had and we'd spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders."
And on that note, I will close in New Zealand's first language Maori, by offering everyone greetings and wishing you all good health and fortitude in your endeavours. No reira, tena koutou, tena koutou, kia ora, kia kaha, tena koutou katoa.
It gives me great pleasure then to declare Welcome Sweet Peace and the other exhibitions at the National Library, officially open.