"The object of giving medals, stars and ribbons is to give pride and pleasure to those who have deserved them. At the same time, a distinction is something which not everybody possesses. If all have it, it is of less value. There must, therefore, be heart-burnings and disappointments on the borderline. A medal glitters, but it also casts a shadow."
An excerpt from Sir Winston Churchill’s speech to the House of Commons, March 22, 1944.
As we approach the public holiday on which even the most miserable republicans are offered a day off for the official birthday of the fount of honour, His Majesty the King, we will have an honours list to peruse.
I always enjoy looking for those I know, or at least know of and celebrating their recognition for lifetimes of good deeds for their fellow citizens.
Irrespective of whether the list brings delight or disappointment to those who have nominated a deserving person for an honour, we can all take some satisfaction from having a fine-tuned system for the state acknowledgement of contributions to the wellbeing of others.
Compared to the grand, sometimes theatrical traditions of Britain’s historic orders — with their satin robes, chains and collars, and other ceremonial ornamentation — New Zealand’s system today feels streamlined yet smart.
But how did we get here?
In the early 1970s, Labour Prime Minister Norman Kirk set the tone for change.
Before his death in 1973, Kirk signalled that New Zealand would move away from awarding the British Empire Medal and develop something more fitting to recognise local contributions, especially for community service.
That idea resonated.
Over the decades since, the country has gradually reshaped its honours system into something distinctly our own, cutting the cord from our imperial roots while preserving the mana of our cultural inheritance from both British and Māori traditions.
Some of the motivation for this development has been philosophical: nation-building, independence and developing cultural identity.
For example, when the German President visited and awarded top honours to our Governor-General it was noted with bemused embarrassment that we had nothing appropriate to bestow in return.
Change came in stages.
The QSO/KSO
The first major shift arrived with the introduction of the Queen’s Service Order (QSO) — now the King’s Service Order (KSO), replacing older imperial awards for community and public service.
The first awards were issued by the Muldoon government 50 years ago, in the 1976 new year list.
This was a clear step towards localisation: instead of symbols like Britannia, the new insignia featured the mānuka flower in kōkōwai (ochre) colouring, alongside design elements such as the poutama (step) pattern.
The motto now incorporates te reo Māori: ‘‘For service — mō ngā mahi nui,’’ reflecting broader cultural shifts in our society.
The QSO/KSO allowed some of the most worthy contributors to our society — those whose tireless and selfless work in charities is often with our most vulnerable — to receive due acknowledgement for their efforts.
The ONZ
Next came the Lange government’s establishment of the Order of New Zealand (ONZ) in 1987, designed as the country’s highest honour.
This filled a gap at the top of the system
Where previously high-achieving New Zealanders might receive British awards such as the Order of Merit or Companion of Honour, the ONZ provided a suitable local distinction.
The ONZ is exclusive, limited to just 20 living members, and intentionally carries both national symbolism and international reach, also allowing for honorary foreign recipients as a form of soft power diplomacy.
The NZ Order of Merit
The final piece fell into place during the Bolger government’s term in 1996, with the creation of the New Zealand Order of Merit, replacing the Order of the British Empire.
This order has become the mainstay of the system, offering multiple levels of recognition.
Over 5000 deserving New Zealanders and some foreign nationals have received this award.
Importantly, the familiar and prestigious titular honours like knight and dame are retained — though now within a uniquely New Zealand framework.
There is flexibility in the use of ‘‘Tā’’ for ‘‘Sir’’, and ‘‘Kahurangi’’ for ‘‘Dame’’, for the recipients of the top grades.
The design of the order also blends tradition and innovation: featuring silver fern motifs and our country’s coat of arms, bilingual mottos and insignia adapted for modern dress, such as a lapel pin version for easier informal wear.
It might interest Dunedin readers to know that the very first recipient of the MNZM award, announced exactly 30 years ago, was the immediate past president of our local RSA, Major Bob Barlin (Retd).
He received this directly from the late Queen Elizabeth II at Buckingham Palace as she was said to ‘‘... like giving the first one [of a new award] out personally’’.
Major Barlin received this award for his work with the Red Cross in Serbia, Turkey, Georgia, Afghanistan and South Sudan.
The writer will not dwell here on the Clark government’s wrong-headed removal of titles and introduction of the impenetrable replacements of DCNZM and PCNZM, which served only to erode the mana of the system and render it unintelligible to most casual observers.
This probably deserves a whole article unto itself.
However, needless to say, the reversal of this act of excruciating reverse cultural cringe by the Key government in 2009 was welcome.
Given the opportunity, almost all the recipients of the ‘‘alphabet soup’’ ersatz honours chose to redesignate to knighthoods and damehoods.
It amused this writer greatly to see even members of Helen Clark’s own cabinet, such as Sir Michael Cullen, Dame Annette King, Dame Winnie Laban and — most recently — Sir Trevor Mallard, defy her instructions not to accept their titular awards.
To all of those honoured this weekend: congratulations.
We are grateful for their efforts in many and varied ways to make New Zealand a better place.
• Paul Foster-Bell is a former National List MP and New Zealand diplomat who now works for the University of Otago. All views expressed are solely his own.
