Editorial: Grief keener when tragedy hits home

On Sunday New Zealand held for the first time an official day of mourning in which it was hoped people would stop whatever they were doing for one minute as a mark of respect for those who lost their lives or suffered in the Asian Tsunami. Days designated for public mourning are not part of our tradition. None were declared for even the most memorable national disasters of our lifetime, the Tangiwai train derailment of 1953, the Wahine sinking in 1968, the Erebus crash in 1979.

But times change, New Zealanders are less averse to public displays of sentiment these days. Those previous disasters occurred in an era when people of a predominantly Anglo-Saxon temperament would have shuffled awkwardly at the very suggestion they pause at the appointed moment and stand in solemn silence. These days people express anguish much more comfortably, the languages of trauma and counselling have become commonplace, public emotion is considered healthy and respectable.

Declaring Sunday the country's first Memorial Day the Prime Minister hoped people would take a minute - the precise minute of the earthquake that triggered the disaster - to remember those whose lives were lost or affected. And some did. Outside the organised church services and the suspension of radio and television transmissions there were some more or less spontaneous observances. Cricketers and spectators at State Championship matches stood in silence, some shopping malls broadcast a message and some shops and shoppers responded to it. At beaches, where the horror of a tsunami might be most readily appreciated, some observed the moment. Lifeguards at Mt Maunganui went down to stand at the water's edge. A beach volleyball tournament paused.

But all around them, it was reported, life hummed along as normal on a hot summer Sunday afternoon. The vast majority of us, it needs to be said, went about our business or leisure and barely gave it a thought. It needs to be said because national observances should be genuine, not contrived.

It is easy and tempting to report the various observances as some media did, in suitably respectful tones and suggest that a "wave of silence", as one newspaper put it, descended on the country. But it simply was not so, and news services should not pretend otherwise simply to contribute to the occasion. Nothing will be learned from this sort of experience unless the truth is told and attempts are made to explain it.

The most obvious explanation is that the tsunami, when all said and done, killed surprisingly few New Zealanders. That is not to suggest that our citizens' lives are more precious than others but the better we know people the more deeply we feel their loss. Just as it is human nature to grieve more for family members and close friends than for other acquaintances, so it is on a global scale. We experience disaster most keenly when it happens to people who live where we do and know the life we know. When they are caught in a distant disaster we identify with their misfortune much more readily.

It is remarkable that so few New Zealanders were in resorts such as Phuket when the tsunami struck, as it was that so few were in the Bali nightspots when terrorists struck in October, 2002. Tragic as ever death is, the truth is this country has not suffered to the extent it expected when the waves hit. This is hardly a cause for celebration but nor does it put a nation in mourning.

There will be occurrences, at home or abroad, that hit this country particularly hard. Those will make people pause on the streets, in the shopping malls, at the beaches and give them a moment with meaning. Let's reserve this sort of gesture for the times the country genuinely needs the catharsis.