McGill TribuneI didn’t know whether or not to buy a poppy for Remembrance Day this year.
In the Canadian consciousness the red poppy is a symbol of respect for soldiers, those who fought in wars from the First World War to the present day. The poppy, and Remembrance Day in general, reminds us of the sacrifices made for the freedoms that Canadians and others enjoy today. I accept this, but with a weary heart.
I believe there is a much darker, unspoken spectre of history with which we have to come to serious terms. Each November 11, I carry an unspoken feeling that the Canadians, or anyone else for that matter, who died in the First World War probably died for no greater cause. That’s around 60,000 soldiers, over half of those slain Canadians we memorialize on November 11. With that in mind, I don’t find Remembrance Day to be only a day of dignified respect, but also of tragic solemnity, where we must confront an unjustifiable loss. We don’t seem to acknowledge it explicitly, perhaps because it seems outright wrong to say. To hear the words at our Remembrance Day service that our soldiers “gave their tomorrow for our today” is emotionally moving. However, to examine what exactly half of our war dead fell for with a cold, objective view is quite another.
Taking Professor Peter Hoffman’s First World War history course last year made me question the real extent to which the sacrifices of Canadian soldiers contributed to anyone’s freedom. The reason Canada fought in the First World War was based on British interests in maintaining a certain balance of power, among other political goals. To add any moral significance to the war aims and motivations seems downright false. Additionally, the seeds of the Second World War were laid in the treaties that emerged from the First. Did those Canadian soldiers die making a sacrifice towards what they believed they fought for? We must contend seriously with the chilling idea that perhaps they just died horrific deaths, for no greater purpose than guaranteeing an even greater war two decades later.
What of the poppy? Isn’t it a symbol for all conflicts and sacrifices for our way of life? I understand that. But to me, it’s still a specific symbol of the First World War. It evokes foreign fields senselessly soaked with the blood of thousands of human beings, and represents one of the most horrific wars humanity has known. In Scotland, the poppy was popularized by a campaign launched by Field Marshall Douglas Haig, whom I don’t regard in his common image as a butcher, but under whose command a young man from my family died at Ginchy in the Somme. And for what? I’m entitled to question why we wear a symbol each November 11 that was popularized by the man who commanded while an ancestor of mine died.
I’m not alone in this skcepticism. The British journalist Jon Snow has refused to wear a poppy for public broadcasts before Remembrance Day, saying we can choose to remember (or not remember) in whatever way we like. I agree with him insofar as we have a freedom of expression, and those we commemorate died for us to have that right. The Guardian, commenting on Snow, made the point that in France, where the war struck even worse, few wear the equivalent cornflower, yet many still remember.
I bought a poppy anyway, and I always have. But I feel a strange curiosity towards the red plastic adornment on my lapel. Like any symbol, it will carry whatever meaning people choose to give it. For me, it represents sacrifice, and I just leave it at that.
Martin Law is a U2 history student, and can be reached at [email protected].
