Editorial - Tuesday January 7, 2014

Peter Jackson, editor, The Northland Age

THIS newspaper has never been a fan of laws aimed at curbing the behaviour of the lowest common denominator. Apart from the fact that people who behave badly, whether it be how they drink alcohol or how they treat their children, tend not to give a fat rat's derriere what the law says, it has always seemed wrong that the great majority of decent, sensible people should be punished because of the stupidity of the few.

That's one reason why the Age has resisted any temptation to join calls for banning the private sale of fireworks. Guy Fawkes and his ill-fated rebellion of 1605 might have been a throwback to New Zealand's colonialist past but always seemed harmless enough, and a source of delight for generations of children who might have little idea of what they were celebrating but enjoyed it immensely all the same.

There is good reason now to wonder whether it's more trouble than it's worth though, albeit thanks once again to a minority of idiots. The use of fireworks to celebrate a significant anniversary might be well established in many countries, but perhaps Guy Fawkes' Night should be dispensed with, and the use of fireworks for other occasions, notably the advent of a new year, should be restricted to public displays.

That view has certainly strengthened in Kaikohe since the use of fireworks on New Year's Eve reportedly caused the death of a horse, which by all accounts took some hours to die after breaking a leg. The fact that fireworks have a tendency to induce panic in animals is well known, of course, but this incident might well hasten the end of fireworks sales in this country, a process that has slowly been gathering momentum for some years.

The law had probably done all it can in terms of restricting the sale of fireworks to those aged 18 and over, and only over the days immediately prior to November 5, but those measures have only been partially successful. Casual observation would suggest that fireworks are no longer primarily designed for the amusement of small children, but have become a major source of reckless entertainment for those who are older but not wiser. And while they might not be seen or heard until November 5, and a day or two before and after, the fireworks season seems to have extended well past that date, and into the New Year.

The bonfire tradition seems to have all but died out, however, another sign that the fireworks that have so long been part of November 5 no longer have anything to do with the event that is supposedly being remembered, or according to the original plan, celebrated.

Guy Fawkes might have been only one of a number of plotters, but he was the one who captured the public imagination, even more than 400 years ago, perhaps partially by virtue of the fact that to some degree he cheated the executioner. He was to have been hanged, drawn and quartered, a death reserved for the worst of criminals, but managed to fling himself from the scaffold with enough force to break his neck, thus dying a much more merciful death than the one planned by a vengeful King James I, who lost no time in encouraging his subjects to celebrate the failure of the Catholic plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament, himself included, by lighting bonfires on November 5.

James wasn't as reckless as some people are these days, however. He also instructed that bonfires should be lit only on the proviso that 'this testemonye of joy be carefull done without any danger or disorder.'

An Act of Parliament, which remained in effect until 1859, duly established November 5 as a 'joyful day of deliverance,' but fireworks, presumably designed to imitate the conflagration Fawkes and his fellow conspirators had envisaged, did not make an appearance until the 1650s, when it also became common to burn Fawkes in effigy atop a bonfire. In the fullness of time various Popes began taking Fawkes' place, particularly after 1673, when the man who was to become James II made public his conversion to catholicism.

Other public figures have also had their fiery moments, including, in more recent years, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.

All of which has very little to do with the whizzing and banging that has become part of early summer life in this country. And if the source of the celebration has been lost, then the means of that celebration should probably go the same way.

Power is lent to that argument by the perception that 'kids' aren't quite as sensible these days as their parents and grandparents were. Guy Fawkes' Night was once an occasion to be planned and keenly anticipated. For days and weeks before the big night piles of dead branches and other flammable material would begin to grow, guys would be made and pocket money would be saved (in Kaitaia at least) to invest in crackers at Johnny Hines' bookshop. Families and neighbours would gather, the kids impatiently waiting for darkness to fall so they could light the bonfire and put a match to modest (by today's standards) collections of catherine wheels, skyrockets and jumping jacks.

Not that kids in those days were always as sensible as their parents would have liked them to be. Youthful enthusiasm was known to exceed accepted bounds of behaviour even in the dim dark past, the big difference being that those who were caught showing scant regard for the neighbourhood's peace of mind could expect a punishment that today would likely result in criminal prosecution, crackers were expensive, and with one or two exceptions perhaps relatively small calibre.

These days crackers seem more sophisticated and powerful, the level of adult supervision may have dwindled a little, and some 'kids' seem more intent on wreaking havoc than simply enjoying the spectacle they offer.

The art of blowing up letterboxes seems to have died a natural death, which is a blessing, but what might have been gained there seems to have been lost to the longevity of the 'celebration.' Fireworks Night, as many now seem to call November 5, seems to go on for weeks, and that's enough to persuade the most ardent supporter of traditions, especially those with an arguably tenuous link with 21st century New Zealand, that maybe it should be forgotten altogether. Maybe Guy and his mates are entitled to be forgotten after 408 years.

What does tradition mean to us anyway? To the great majority of New Zealanders Christmas is a holiday as opposed to a holy day, and the lead story in the news on Good Friday can be guaranteed to involve garden centre owners who don't see why they should have to shut their doors on the most important date in the Christian calendar. Census data say this is no longer a Christian country, our behaviour supports that, so why do we observe these occasions at all?

As far as the Papist Plot of 1605 is concerned, we can still have fireworks, and the arrival of a new year is probably as good a reason as any, but surely they can be restricted to publicly-organised celebrations as opposed to turning residential streets into something akin to Beirut on a Saturday night. And if that's capitulating to the idiot minority, so be it. Saving Guy Fawkes' Night is one battle that hardly seems worth dying in a ditch over.