United Future
Hon Peter Dunne

House speech on the Unknown Warrior

 This is a rare day in New Zealand’s history. It is one of an extraordinary mix of emotions. Immediately, we think of the pomp and ceremony we have just seen, and we pay our tribute to our armed services* for the way in which they have carried out this task today and over the last couple of weeks. Immediately we think, too, of the work they do in this country and in so many places around the world, to carry out their mission and to provide their contribution towards a safer and more secure world. We draw strength as a nation from the fact that an occasion like this can occur. Ten thousand people do not queue up overnight to come through this building to pay their respects to the coffin of an unknown person, if they do not have a deeper sense of meaning and appreciation for what is being commemorated. I think that what has happened in the last 24 hours has demonstrated more profoundly, perhaps, than we might have dared imagine, that within New Zealanders today there is a deep stirring and a deep sense of wanting to understand our past and be at ease with it, as a key to moving forward for our future. What is striking on Anzac Day* and on an occasion like this, is that the numbers of younger people who are becoming involved in the commemorations is ever-increasing. The passage of time, admittedly, has something to do with that, but it is also reflective of a much deeper sense of recognition amongst today’s generations of the significance of the sacrifice made by those of earlier times. When we start to think about that unknown warrior, our curiosity invariably gets the better of us.

Who was he? Where was he from? Was he a young man, or an older man? Was he Māori? Was he Pākehā? What was he doing there? Was he in the infantry, or in some other branch of the service? Beyond that, what were his aspirations as a New Zealander growing up at that time? He was probably caught up in the conflict as an unwilling volunteer but went because it was his national duty, because his friends were going, and because it was the right thing to do. Perhaps he went believing a little that it would be a great adventure, until the horror struck when he arrived at the battlefield, but all the time possessing a sense of hope that once this crisis was over he could return to New Zealand and pick up the threads of the life that was mapped out for him. The uniqueness of being a Kiwi was one thing he had probably started to appreciate in what would invariably have been his first contact with people from other countries when he got to Europe, and he wanted to bring that sense of “Kiwiness” to bear when he came back to New Zealand at the conclusion of the military campaign. While we can speculate endlessly about the particular individual and his hopes and aspirations, the linkage through to today is exactly that—the linkage of aspiration and hope for the future. Yes, it is important to commemorate the past, to recognise sacrifice and contribution. But it is also important to say that the aspirations and the hopes of those people who went away so many years ago have to be fulfilled by today’s generation and subsequent generations. That is the mission we inherit from them. It is an important mark of our emerging sense of national confidence that we are able to take on that challenge and that mantle and be prepared to focus as a nation on where our future lies, our sense of nationhood, and what it really means to be a New Zealander today. When the Unknown Soldier first set foot on the battlefield of the Somme, what he was probably proudest of were the shoulder flashes that said “New Zealand”. To him, they were evocative of what he was and what he wanted to be. Our challenge now is to take the same sense of pride that those people felt so many years ago and build a nation that is worthy of it. That is why today is a day of extraordinarily mixed emotions. There is the sombre feeling of commemoration; but there must also surely be excitement and pride in what lies ahead, because we as a nation are very much at a threshold, at a turning point. The confidence we are gradually gaining through so many steps towards nationhood to really define what it means to be a New Zealander in the 21^st century is, I think, the ultimate encouragement the Unknown Warrior would want to leave for us and will continue to provide for us. When our children and our children’s children go to the tomb and hear the story and the memories repeated, let them also remember that this is part of their essence as New Zealanders—this young, innocent, perhaps naďve person slaughtered so far away from home because he was doing what he felt was right and was prepared to stand up for his principles, even if he perhaps did not have the finest appreciation that some might have wished.

 He was bound by that sense of duty and camaraderie, and being a Kiwi was important. Let that challenge never be forgotten. I congratulate the Government on taking the initiative in bringing the unknown warrior back to New Zealand and providing a permanent and recognisable resting place for the unknown warrior. I endorse the sentiment expressed earlier this afternoon by the Prime Minister and by Mr Peters about the movement to a genuine commemorative park in the area around the National War Memorial. I urge all New Zealanders to look on this day not just as one of remembrance—important though that is—but also as one of encouragement and really strong positive feeling about what this country can become, and how truly then the memory of the unknown warrior can be honoured.