Why the women’s rugby haka is more than just a dance

As 2022 draws to a close, sports writers everywhere are scrambling to sum up the year’s highlights. One of them, unequivocally, was the Black Ferns’ victory in the Women’s Rugby World Cup final against England in November.

The New Zealand women’s rugby team drew a crowd of 42,579 people in their home country, setting not only a record for women’s rugby but a precedent for women’s sport as a whole.

It was not just the number of spectators that made the match one of this year’s standout moments in sport. The entire game from start to finish was played with the level of skill and intensity commensurate with an international sporting event, ensuring that it was infused with the type of excitement and crowd hype normally granted only to men’s sports.

“The Black Ferns would go on to nick the game at the death and, in doing so, snatch the hearts of the world,” wrote Dylan Coetzee on Planet Rugby.

The drama of the game, whether you were watching it live or in snippets afterwards, was foreshadowed in the haka that prefaced the match.

It wasn’t just this haka. Last year the Black Ferns came up against Scotland in the 2021 Women’s World Cup and the haka that preceded the match has been described as their most intense. It was captured and posted online and has since been replayed thousands of times. The passion with which this haka is delivered can be seen on the faces of all members of the team – the ferocity in Ruahei Demant’s expression and the emanating power of Krystal Murray, who leads.

It is difficult to describe the particular magic of the haka, and it’s almost impossible to forget it.

The men’s rugby team, the All Blacks, have been performing a haka before their games since 1986. The haka existed a hundred years before that but was performed only on overseas tours. Since the 1980s, however, it has become common practice to perform it before home games too. It is a safe assumption that rugby fans and probably most of the New Zealand population know the words to Ka Mate by heart. Most children who grew up watching rugby can probably imitate the movements too. It is by all accounts one of the truest and most treasured cultural legacies of the country.

In 2005 the All Blacks introduced a new haka to their team known as Kapa o Pango, written specifically for the men’s rugby team. Learning and rehearsing it is part of their team training. These days, the All Blacks can opt for either Kapa o Pango or Ka Mate before a match, as well as selecting which of the players will lead the haka. Interestingly enough, when a new member of the team is to debut, Ka Mate is usually chosen because of its familiarity – members hardly have to learn something they have grown up seeing.

Kendra Cocksedge understands this. A former player of the year, she has been part of the Black Ferns squad through four World Cups.

“I grew up doing the All Blacks haka, Ka Mate,” Cocksedge has said. “Now I just hope that young girls can do the same – they watch us and they start doing our haka and then one day they might become a Black Fern.”

The Black Ferns started performing their own haka, called Ko Ūhia Mai in 2006. Just like the men’s rugby team, they too have to learn the words and the accompanying actions, delivering both with the energy, enthusiasm and respect that people have come to expect from their male peers. Renditions of the haka, performed by both male and female teams, trigger an emotional response in crowds and opponents alike. By definition, the haka is a challenge that a rival team can accept. Some teams respond by walking towards the halfway line as it is being performed, while some simply look on humbled or in awe.

At this year’s final, England was favoured to win. The Black Ferns, however, were playing for a home crowd. As Stacey Fluhler – who will go on to score what will be described as a “scintillating try” in the second half of the game – opens the haka, her teammates can be heard in perfect unison echoing after her. From that point on, though their voices carry through the stadium and their gestures are strong and distinct, there is little that can match the crowd’s volume. The cheers are deafening. The Black Ferns move into formation. The cheers amplify. The faces of the English team remain demure.

The way the Black Ferns have been performing their haka is more than just a taste of what is to come for a single match. It is an indicator of dormant talent and a precursor to a new era – one in which women will rewrite their own game.

It’s been a good year for women’s rugby, and it is a sign of more to come.