THE All Blacks will not decide whether to perform their controversial and bloodcurdling new version of the haka at Twickenham on Saturday until the last moment before the team run out to face England. The decision will be taken by the senior players, led by Tana Umaga, the captain. “It is a state secret,” a New Zealand spokesman said yesterday.

Nor will Umaga allow God Save the Queen to be sung after the haka is performed. He relented in Cardiff when Wales sang their national anthem, Hen Wald Fy Nhadau, albeit reluctantly, out of respect for the 1905 Originals and the significance of the occasion. But afterwards he said: “Never again.”

Among other things, that prompted Gerald Davies, the former Wales international and columnist for The Times, to ponder whether if “the whingeing goes on, perhaps it is time to give the haka a miss”.

Rugby crowds around the world are familiar with the traditional haka: Ka mate! Ka mate! — It is death! it is death! — which is an expression of the vigour, passion and identity of the Maori people and was originally performed by tribes before they went into battle. However, more than a year ago, some players, Umaga and Aaron Mauger among them, believed that it had perhaps become devalued and was merely regarded as part of the pre-match entertainment the public expected to see.

While it remains an essential and vivid part of the Maori culture, they wanted to create something more specific to the All Blacks that embraced every culture in the team and carried a greater resonance with the famous shirt and the silver fern. This led to their new war cry, “Kapo o Pango”, which had been a year in preparation and was written by the players. It contains phrases, when translated, such as: “It’s my time, my moment”, “This defines us as the All Blacks,” and “Our supremacy will triumph”.

Mauger said: “We felt this group of All Blacks could add to the legacy by writing a haka significant to the All Blacks specifically.” It is this, first seen against South Africa in August, which has raised eyebrows, ending as it does with a dramatic throat-slitting action. Derek Lardelli, who advised the All Blacks on the new haka and its origins, said the motion was symbolic but also reflected what the All Blacks were on the field for — “to do a job”. This has led to accusations that they have overstepped the boundaries of sport and good taste.

Not so, Jonah Lomu said yesterday. “It is more confrontational, but it also enriches and gives expression to the players,” he said. “This version is identifying with the All Blacks themselves. It gets the blood boiling and prepares you for battle. It engages you. It’s a challenge which is accepted. For me it’s, ‘OK then, let’s get it on.’ ”

The IRB, too, is unperturbed. “The haka, whichever version, is within the fine traditions of the game,” a spokesman said last night. Opponents face the challenge in different ways. Most respect it and themselves draw inspiration from it as Martin Corry, the England captain, will on Saturday. Sometimes, players decide to meet it head-on. Richard Cockerill famously eyeballed Norm Hewitt in 1997, while David Campese ignored it before the 1991 World Cup semi-final and nonchalantly kicked a ball about in the Australia 22. In 1989, Willie Anderson, the Ireland captain, linked arms with his comrades and stood in a long, swaying line on halfway.

Most recently, Brian O’Driscoll, the Lions captain and, acting on the advice of a Maori elder, let a piece of grass drift into the night before the first international in Christchurch that served only to anger Umaga. Despite the controversy, Sir Clive Woodward, the head coach on the tour, told The Times yesterday that he would not like to see the haka stopped. “I am a big fan of it,” he said. “It would be a huge shame if youngsters coming to Twickenham were not able to see it.”

But what do the movements mean? Nothing specific, apparently. It is up to individual interpretation. One haka expert summed up its secrets by saying: “Kia korero te katoa o te tinana”, meaning “The whole body should speak”. Another called it “a message of the soul”, with the trembling of the air, as seen in the hot days of summer, represented by the quivering of the hands in the dance.

Some Maoris have felt they should benefit commercially from the haka. Some years ago, the Maori advisory board suggested they might charge the NZRFU NZ$1.5 million (about £591,000) for the privilege of using the haka, the rights of which, they argued, belong to the Maori. That was one challenge, however, that was not accepted.

BETTER THAN THE ANFIELD RAP

IT MIGHT sound like 15 truckers throwing up, but the All Blacks mean something with the haka. The exact identity of the hairy man remains a mystery, although we trust that sport’s most famous war cry is in no way attempting to mock Andy Robinson’s receding hairline . . .

Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
It is death! It is death! It is life! It is life!

Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
It is death! It is death! It is life! It is life!

Tenei te tangata puhuru huru
This is the hairy man

Nana nei i tiki mai
Who fetched the Sun

Whakawhiti te ra
And caused it to shine again

A upa... ne! ka upa... ne!
One upward step! Another upward step!

A upane kaupane whiti te ra! Hi!!!
An upward step, another . . . the Sun shines!!!