Rona Bailey, who was struck by police on Morseworth Street in Wellington during a 1981 Springbok tour protest, addresses Napier protesters.Photo / Rossland
Next year, I was happy to see Leo Moroi, a very attractive restaurant owner on the viaduct, running for mayor. Finally, a contest to measure his ambitions.
He emailed me last year
I participate in a different kind of contest than he does.
“Simon,” he wrote. “I want to fight you in a licensed corporate fight, go to charity. I’m looking for a left wing low to achieve a softcock media type to fight. Are you available or are you too Are you scared? “
I regret not having a hyphen. Is it really true that charity match organizers allow their events to be used in grudge fights? I understand that he was previously known for pulling gloves.
I need to mention that I don’t know Leomoloy. But you have to admit, he seems wise. What is a better way to start a fight with a stranger than to abuse him, as he definitely knows from his own experience of running a bar? And what is better abuse than hurt the masculinity of other men? And when it comes to bonus points, equate politics with vitality.
I am looking forward to the discussion of the mayor candidate.
Moroi says he will be on a platform that prioritizes cars, cancels the light rail and stops working on climate change.
“Climate change is a reality … but we stop it. There is a much more important issue to address.”
I think it would make him a party candidate as the owner of the Viaduct’s party central bar headquarters. Why worry about a burning world when you have money to burn holes in your customer’s pockets?
Oakland is lucky. It happens that he is lucky on the viaduct. Here the ebb and flow of the tide is 3 meters, which is twice that of Wellington, but the city’s father has built a pier high and the city council has recently spent considerable money repairing the downtown revetment. So everyone can have a party. ..
Or, “wasting the payer’s money on (some) stupid bloody bike lanes,” as Leo might prefer to call it.
But hey, he is entitled to his protest. We are all. It’s been 40 years since I was marshalling behind a protest on an anti-Springbok tour on Morseworth Street this week. Meanwhile, a 66-year-old friend, Rona Bailey, was struck by police.
1981. The Pointer Sisters sang “Slow Hand,” Soft Cell sang “Tainted Love,” and “An American Werewolf” was popular in the movie. On July 25, protesters broke into Hamilton’s ground and were forced to abandon the Waikato game. This resulted in a widespread attack by rugby supporters.
Neil Reid Written very well And about other tour events in his series of this treatise last week.
Four days later, police counterattacked. It was Wednesday’s match day, and Springboks played Taranaki that afternoon. And as it happened every day of the game, protesters gathered and marched all over the country.
But, as some have said, there was no “fight on Morseworth Street”. This was a large and peaceful night march to the Consul General of South Africa in Wadestown.
Police assured us the day before that they would not use batons unless there was a “real threat to civil turmoil.” But at night, they lined up, pulled batons to block the march, and began bashing to stop or dissolve without giving warnings or instructions to protesters.
As reported at the time, “contrary to police regulations, the barrage was aimed at the protesters’ heads and lasted for at least 40 seconds.” Several protesters, including my friend Rona, were hospitalized.
The Marcher has withdrawn and reassembled. No one counterattacked. Many courageous people stayed at the forefront. As we tried to march along Rambutonky, our road was blocked by more police, their batons were drawn in, and police dogs shouted behind them.
And everyone who wasn’t hospitalized went home. Charles and Diana’s wedding was broadcast live on television the same night.
A month later, on Wellington’s test day, I was one of the 2000 marshal sitting wet at the Newtown intersection, a few blocks from the Athletic Park.
My job is to keep everyone sitting while rugby fans kick the edges and police wedges wearing heavy boots, riot helmets and long P-24 batons run around the crowd repeatedly. did.
If they can make us stand, they will be able to put us aside. They really tried. Many were injured, but some were terrible. It was terrible. No one stood up.
Courage of the common people. At that time, I knew that I never wanted to be responsible for such things in my life.
Today, the most common anti-tour movements we hear about are fighting on the streets around Eden Park, flour bombs dropped by players, helmets and shields, and all that violence.
And it was violent. There was a large 56-day protest each week, escalating as everything went on.
But few people fought to enjoy it. Stopping the game was an important goal, which meant conflict, so those who were prepared to become more difficult and take more risks did so. In Wellington, the most radical groups used grapplers to traverse military barbed wire, betray police on where to strike, and get very close to entering the park. It was heroic.
However, many protesters did not wear helmets and few had shields. They protested and protested New Zealanders of all kinds because they believed it was the right thing to do. They promised to provide a non-violent response to violence.
They were the center of the movement and they were also heroic. From time to time they were kicked, beaten, assaulted, and glass beer mugs were thrown from the hotel balcony. In Auckland, a group of people dressed as Pierrots were beaten hard by police.
It was horrifying to confront the Red and Blue squads. The riot police hit the baton and chanted “Move! Move! Move!”. And I could clearly see my determination to hurt you.
The tour didn’t stop. But it wasn’t hard to understand that the barbaric ignorance of the NZ Rugby Football Union and its fellow travelers was defeated.
Phil Collins sang “Face Value” and Kim Carnes sang this year’s earworm on “Bette Davis Eyes”. The government won the November elections due to the simple single-seat constituency system. It lost the popularity vote. The country has changed.
And some of the lessons from the tour were still clear enough. Protest is public participation: it’s a way for you to make progress.
People like to say that we no longer fill such streets. But I saw it often. Protesters gathered on Queen Street so many years ago to sue Maori wards in Congress. MP Pita Sharples has promised to do that. Because if the Maori-National coalition helps something, it’s good for it too. He was ignored.
Since then, Ihumātao’s protesters have been heroically stubborn, learning their own lessons about who to trust.
And almost every high school student in Auckland marched with hope, fear and anger about the climate crisis and their future. And we had to listen to the farmers and the inhabitants of the city. And that aspiring pugilist politician, Leo Moroi, says no, don’t touch my car.
Progress will occur, but it doesn’t have to mean a fight.
Simon Wilson: Springbok Tour Protests and Aspiring Political Boxing Players
SourceSimon Wilson: Springbok Tour Protests and Aspiring Political Boxing Players