Overview
These are examples of commercial postcards depicting incidents during New Zealand’s annexation of the German colony of Samoa in August 1914. In a British First World War poster also held in Te Papa’s collection, New Zealand is mentioned in relation to Samoa which was ‘captured by the Expeditionary Force furnished by the Dominion of New Zealand’. The British government had requested that New Zealand send an expeditionary force to seize the wireless station near Apia. An ‘advance guard’ of almost 1400 men was quickly dispatched, ten days after New Zealand entered the war in Europe, and achieved its goal on August 29, 1914, thereby experiencing no resistance from the Germans stationed there.
Occupation
The day after the New Zealand force arrived, the British occupation was formally proclaimed, with a British Union Jack raised on the Apia Court House flag pole. The New Zealand military administered Samoa for the duration of the First World War although, from April 1915, the number of men garrisoned there was reduced to 250. Many were over the maximum age for military service while others were deemed unfit for service on the Western Front.
At the end of the war, New Zealand was mandated by the League of Nations to govern Western Samoa, and continued its administration when Western Samoa became a United Nations Trust Territory in 1946. This situation lasted until 1962, when Samoa gained its independent and signed the Treaty of Friendship with New Zealand.
So far so good. But what happened to the German and – even more importantly – the Samoan thread of this tangled story? Once gain there is more to it than meets the eye when glancing at a photograph. Such visual records do not speak for themselves and should not be taken at face value but rather be seen as a window into larger processes and their underpinning relational complexity.
Better Britain of the South
New Zealand’s annexation of Samoa finally fulfilled its own long-held colonial ambitions as the so-called Better Britain of the South Pacific, a historical reality which often remains a blind spot in contemporary debates around (post)colonial situations. It is little surprising, then, that newspaper articles at the time sold the landing of New Zealand’s troops as a ‘great surprise’ or even ‘complete surprise to the Germans’, thus trumpeting up the own military achievements worthy of a colonial force while discrediting the seemingly unorganized opponent.
According to a statement made by Dr. Erich Schultz, the last German Governor of Samoa, after landing in Auckland as a prisoner of war, however, the taking of Samoa, far from being a surprise capture, had been expected for days before the troops actually arrived. In the course of an interview, Dr. Schultz smilingly pointed to other exaggerations in the New Zealand media such as the inflating of the number of ‘white people in Samoa’ aimed at making the victory appear even more glorious. Asked whether the visit of the expeditionary force was expected, Schultz replied in the affirmative, highlighting that Samoa possessed a powerful wireless station – itself the strategic target of New Zealand’s intervention as we have seen above – and was thus able to intercept messages from troopships. Furthermore, ‘we realized from the very outset’, Schultz continued, ‘that surrender was inevitable, because of the primitive defences of the place.’
The surrender itself was even ridiculed, as seen in a post card titled ‘Samoa Yielded without a Struggle’ which refers to the perception that German colonial ambitions were mainly economically focused, and that these business interests did not mind even such takeover as long as their trade links were not affected. Imperial Germany’s colonial agenda was, of course, more multifaceted than such satirical portrayal can convey, and the surrender itself gained a more respectful acknowledgment in the following years.
Colonial Power Play
The New Zealand Herald reported on June 26, 1935, after Dr. Schultz’s death, that he was ‘said to have used great wisdom and tact when the New Zealand forces landed’ and ‘urged his nationals to offer no resistance, thus avoiding bloodshed’. Furthermore, during his term as governor he ‘was noted for the sympathetic manner in which he treated the natives’. This sympathetic treatment, however, turned into hostile policies of political exile once ‘the natives’ resisted to being incorporated into the colonial scheme.
After New Zealand’s annexation, exiled Samoans were repatriated, and conferences were held with, and promises made to, Samoan chiefs to give the ‘blessings of the British flag’ to the (re)colonized. Once again, even the formerly ostracized ‘natives’ (re)emerged from the margin to the center of the colonial power play so the next chapter of the ‘Samoan tangle’ could be co-written. As the Samoan Zeitung summed it up aptly at the time: ‘The Samoan question…appears to be eternal. More changes of Government, more diplomatic questions, and more diverse relations have arisen over these islands during the last decade than over any other part of the earth of the size’.
Philipp Schorch (2016)