History of Auckland City
Introduction |
If at first you don't succeed (1840-1871) |
Building a solid city (1871-1918) |
On the trail of the modernising city (1919-1945) |
Thinking and being metropolitan (1945-1971) |
The 1971 centenary (occasion and setting) |
Progressing towards abolition (1971-1989) |
Writ large: the 'new' City Council from 1990 |
Selected Auckland City chronology (1840-1998) |
Mayors |
City and metropolitan population 1841-1998 |
Graham Bush
Chapter 3: On the trail of the modernising city (1919-1945)
The quarter-century
separating the ends of the two World Wars was as disorienting for the Council as
for the general populace. The booming prosperity of the 1920s was obliterated by
the retrenchment of the Great Depression and then the austerity imposed by six
years of all-out war. Throughout these blasts the city kept expanding -- 65,000
in 1918, 128,000 in 1945 --, as did the demands on municipal services and
facilities.
Arrival of the motorcar
The inexorable influx of
motor vehicles -- their number doubling to 25,000 in the six years ending 1920
-- made the Sabbatarians campaign to halt the continentalising of Sundays
quaintly irrelevant. It compelled both an end to the toleration of laizzez-faire
behaviour by drivers and a complete review of roading policy. From 1923
pedestrians were compelled to 'keep to the left' on footpaths. In 1926 control
of moving traffic was reclaimed from the police, but warfare over the
regulations of taxicabs was endemic and the Council was relieved when it
surrendered this thankless task to the Transport Board in 1937. The most
startling change in roading was not in new major thoroughfares (only one, the
Waterfront Drive, made possible by the Tamaki railway deviation, was built), but
in the width, surfacing and ambience of streets. The 1920s were the era of
concreting, and the 1930s of sealing hitherto gravelled residential suburban
streets. The Council was also a prime mover of a project located ten miles
beyond its boundaries, the Centennial Memorial Drive (1939).
Reflecting changing preferences in recreation
From earlier commitments
to widen and diversify facilities for outdoor recreation and enjoyment the
Council never wavered. It acquired or upgraded a string of parks, including
Motuihe Island, the Parnell Rose Garden and -- most significantly, invaluable
stretches of the bushclad Waitakere Ranges later to form the nucleus of the
Centennial Memorial Park. Two facilities enterprisingly built with unemployment
relief labour in the mid 1930s were both at Western Springs -- the Chamberlain
Park golf course and the motor camp. The latter was a war victim, converted into
a transit camp. On its opening in 1922 the zoo at Western Springs already ranked
best in New Zealand. Holdings were regularly augmented by the generosity of
private donors. A cause celebre was the 1925 escape of a leopard which remained
free for a fortnight and titillated many a conversation. In 1930, the mayor,
George Baildon, delivered the first known mayoral radio broadcast, his topic
being the future of the zoo.
On the indoor front, the
physical shortcomings of the library became increasingly distracting for John
Barr, the veteran Librarian, although another six branch libraries came
on-stream. For art lovers, prospects were even gloomier: between 1921 and 1945
six separate initiatives to establish a gallery of decent standard and space
foundered. For a while music lovers enjoyed richer fare. The City Organist
presented to declining audiences an annual average of forty `severely classical'
recitals during the 1920s. He persuaded the Council to subsidize a 120-voice
choir which he conducted until its dissolution in the mid 1930s. The Municipal
Military Band pumped out 200 concerts a year, for a period being featured on
radio. It was that same medium's soaring popularity, together with the advent of
talking pictures and the fiscal retrenchment of the Depression, which ended the
Council's support of public musical entertainment.
The citizens want -- the City Council provides!
The 1920s were the
heyday of the Council as owner of utilities and commercial entrepreneur: at one
stage it sold water, electricity and fish, operated the tramways and an
abattoir, and even commenced the process of acquiring the Auckland Gas Company.
Already a victim of the `tall poppy syndrome' of uncooperative neighbouring
boroughs, it was repeatedly forced to decide between the interests of its own
citizens and those of greater Auckland. Forbidden to make a profit as such, the
abattoir could exact fees for stock killed at private works for domestic
consumption and this often placed the two on a collision course. Major extension
to chilling facilities and stock accommodation were in train by 1945. By
contrast, being in the fishing business lost its appeal as deficits mounted. In
1924 the trawlers were sold at a substantial loss, although the retail fish
market continued.
Supplying water and electricity: operating the trams
Space permits only the
sketchiest account of the water, electricity and tramway ventures. With the
demand for electricity insatiably climbing, the Council in 1920 formulated plans
to triple generating capacity. However, suburban bodies were energising a
two-pronged campaign aimed at getting the Government to construct hydro stations
and retailing the electricity through a system of elected power boards. They
won, with the Council graciously serving as a willing midwife. In 1922 all its
assets were transferred to the Auckland Electric Power Board for £525,000. As
regards water, the Council so diligently expanded its Waitakere sources as if to
make supply shortages a thing of the past. However, buoyed by their electricity
triumph suburban bodies started complaining about overcharging and impure water,
citing the creation of a water board as the best solution. They had sufficient
pull to procure a Royal Commission of Enquiry in 1927, but its report vindicated
the Council's position and performance. With daily consumption almost tripling
between 1920 and 1945, some shortages did recur during wartime, but plans to tap
the copious Hunua catchment were already being developed.
The Council ran the
nine-route 27 miles tramway system for a decade from 1919. It completed several
major extensions and double-tracking and in the mid-twenties waged a vigorous
war with private pirate buses, resolved only when transport licensing was
introduced nationally in 1926, a year when the Auckland trams carried 63,000,000
passengers. Following a 1927 poll defeat of an expansion loan proposal, the
whole question of isthmus public transport became enmeshed in inter-authority
local politics. A Royal Commission of Enquiry held in 1928 recommended the
creation of an independent directly-election Transport Board, a solution in
which the disheartened City Council unenthusiastically acquiesced. The
undertaking was transferred without compensation, John Allum, who chaired the
City's Tramways Committee, becoming the first chairman.
Planning houses but not a Civic Centre
Driven by social
conscience, the City Council became steadily more involved in housing and its
planning. In 1924 it built fifty workers' homes in Grey Lynn and was a pioneer
in doggedly working towards its first town planning scheme, which was adopted in
1938. Its first upheld objection to a building application on town planning
principles occurred in 1929. A 1934 survey showed that one-third of the houses
inspected were structurally defective, thus beginning a focus on blighted
inner-city areas and insanitary overcrowded housing. Another survey in 1944
revealed 3,000 desperate cases. From 1945 the Council acted as guarantor for
some 110 approved mortgages where lending exceeded normal bank limits.
The stillborn civic
centre of the 1920s illustrated that attention to planning but not to politics
is a recipe which courts disaster. Following the shifting of the city markets,
the City Engineer, Walter Bush, ambitiously suggested its use for a civic centre.
Even downgrading into a municipal administration block failed to get ratepayer
approval in 1921, but undeterred the Council continued to acquire and raze
properties and sponsored a design competition. The winning entry envisaged two
massive buildings fronting a huge formal square. Ratepayers were less entranced
and decisively rejected it. Subsequently, a Civic Centre Commission produced an
even more monumental scheme, but thoroughly embarrassed, the Council in 1927
washed its hands of the whole idea. For the Council it was an inglorious chapter
best quickly buried, although three elements -- the location of the central
library, the underground carpark and a major auditorium -- actually became
reality more than fifty years later.
The final throes of 'Greater Auckland'
Having gathered in nine
surrounding local bodies, the impetus driving the `Greater Auckland' movement
was not entirely spent. With costly residential development imminent, Point
Chevalier voted for amalgamation in 1921. Diehard resistance by Avondale
Borough's councillors in 1927 did not sway its citizens from opting to link up
with Auckland City, a union which swelled the City's area by 40%. Heavily
influenced by the proposed Waterfront Drive and the Government's development of
a garden suburb, the Orakei Road Board, with its rural neighbour, Tamaki,
willingly in tow, consigned its future to Auckland City in 1928. There
territorial expansion ceased, although but for imposing an ill-thought
condition, the City could have gathered in Mt.Albert Borough in 1931. Suburban
local bodies for whom preservation of existence was paramount notwithstanding
their inadequacy to cope with development, grasped the lifeline of the special
purpose board model exemplified by the drainage, electric power and tramways
arrangements.
Coping with depression and World War
In many respects the
pushful, achieving decade of Sir James Gunson's mayoralty (1915-25) was to
represent the pinnacle of endeavour in the first century. A succession of major
loans was approved, new functions borne, and the Council's receipts first passed
£1,000,000. Much of the succeeding twenty years were to be blighted by
depression and then the Second World War.
For the City Council,
the Great Depression (1929-35) mean three things -- managing an increasing
complexity of Government-subsidised relief projects (involving 1,700 men in
1933); floating almost no new loans; ruthless retrenchment in every corner.
Average annual rate increases of nearly 9% in the 1920s plummeted to 1.6% in the
early 1930s - no surprise, when in 1930 20% of rates were unpaid and defaulters
were allowed to expunge arrears by serving as unskilled labourers for the
Council. Sixty staff were made redundant while others took a 10% salary cut in
1931. Senior officers lost another 5% in 1932. It was a grim holding operation,
with the Council prominent in organising food and clothing appeals, but there
was the spin-off of new parks, widened roads and the Western Springs Stadium.
Because of the threat of
Japanese invasion, the presence of American troops, the severe shortage of
supplies, and its duration, World War II disrupted Council activities more
comprehensively than had World War I. Staff numbers dropped by 40%. A vast array
of works and initiatives were shelved or scaled down. These included the
introduction of traffic lights, extension of the Centennial Memorial Parks,
construction of the Grey's Avenue flats, planning of an airport, and work on a
metropolitan planning scheme. Other casualties were existing amenities: Military
bases occupied parts of parks and the margin of water supply over water demand
shrank alarmingly. The Council was involved in almost every facet of civil
defence, organising the digging of miles of trenches and the tunnels under
Albert Park. It sought to boost both morale and moral responsibility and
organised drives to collect strategic materials such as rubber and metal.
Hundreds of staff enlisted for active service and for several years the mayor,
John Allum, almost lived at the Town Hall.
G.W.A. Bush 5.8.98