Since Tuesday, it's been a struggle to fully and succinctly articulate the full breadth of emotions and thoughts I've been having.
Many smarter people have done a better job. But like any white man, I feel compelled to throw two cents into the mix all the same.
Remembrance Day is coming up, and I can't help but wonder: what's the point, any more? I have always, and will continue to observe this sombre day but I can't help but question its genuine meaning at this point.
A couple weeks back, I came across this letter published on November 3, 1933 titled "Poppies" (link). It's stuck with me a considerable amount, since. 91 years ago someone named Fraser Macdonald questioned Armistice Day and its relevance. In particular: "...And anyhow, what good does it do to think of the dead? I would be more to the point if we thought of the living: those broken bodies that came out of the war, alive without life. Those broken souls that emerged, crushed and useless, for the peace they had prayed for; hopeless, embittered and decadent. And again, what of the living? What of today's young warriors? They they not to be thought of? The dead are gone, their children have grown up. What is the world that bows its head at eleven on the eleventh, doing to insure that these will not be murdered to? Think of the dead, but think of those who are yet to die."
Initially I thought of this in the context of the conflict in Gaza, though it could be applied to just about any war since, or even the proliferation of world-ending "defence" machines among our most powerful nations. But 91 years ago Mr. Macdonald was bang on the money, because a decade after this was published saw our second world war. Fraser wrote this letter during the insidious rise of Fascism among many countries. Now we honour the men and women who lost their lives in the many battles to repress that regime, among the other wars in the decades since. Yet, an autocratic fascist was just elected to the highest office in one of the most powerful and influential countries of our modern age. His acolytes attend rallies with nazi flags. He has openly admired Hitler.
What comes next?
Allegedly, our war-dead fought to maintain freedom from oppression. They fought to end all wars. That's a more macro way to look at it, but if you zoom in a little more they also fought to end a genocide. Just shy of a century later, we're watching one take place in front of a live audience. Racism, sexism, and countless other isms are no longer quiet, they are out loud and even proudly displayed. So, where's that freedom we "promise" to maintain in their honour all these years later?
Again, from Mr. Macdonald in 1933: "...I can't hate anyone. Why should I hate a German, or a Russian, or a Jap, or whomever the finger may point at? Why should Hans Schmidt and I seek one another's throats just because our bosses can't agree? "Our quarrel is not with the German people" -- I have no quarrel with any people. So what are you going to do? Bow your head and think for two solid minutes on a lot of the dead and people you never knew? Why not be honest about it? They are rather to be envied than sentimentalized. Those who lost relatives in the war have their personal grief that is not confined to a statutory two minutes a year. To the rest of us it is fast becoming a meaningless ritual. So what are we to do? The dead are past our help: are not the living of the last and the dead of the next war much more important?"
I feel as if we've abandoned the true meaning of Remembrance Day for nothing beyond pomp and circumstance. Remembrance does not lie within those two minutes, and the democracy our fallen have died for isn't restricted to the ballot box. The oppression they fought to abolish lies in every day actions, along with remembrance and democracy. It lies in how we conduct ourselves as well as how we allow others to conduct. Voting in leaders who actively pursue revoking the human rights, freedoms and indeed healthcare of certain peoples does not feel in line with the act of Remembrance.
To be honest, I feel discouraged. I have a sense of how we ended up in this world of hate, but I don't understand it. There is no point to it. Hate takes too much effort and brain space. But then again, I guess apathy is easier than love. Performative gestures are low-maintenance. Ceremony is easier than action.
Again: "...Why should Hans Schmidt and I seek one another's throats just because our bosses can't agree? "Our quarrel is not with the German people" -- I have no quarrel with any people."
If only.
