Why we should remember the fallen

War is ugly and devastating. If we forget its brutal lessons, we risk losing the very things for which our heroes fought so hard.

LAST Sunday, dozens of world leaders, including those of France, Germany, the United States and Russia, assembled in Paris to commemorate the end of the first World War. In London, the Queen and political leaders also gathered with veterans to remember the fallen from that war.

Nov 11 is particularly significant since that was the date the final Armistice was signed a century ago.

I remember from school days in England that every year, we would be expected to stop what we were doing at 11am and observe a two-minute silence while wearing a poppy on our lapel. Even in town, cars would stop, and passengers would disembark and stand respectfully. I was intrigued by this cultural practice.

For some countries, military deeds of the past form a central part of their national identity, with the rituals and practices associated with remembering the dead being elevated to a sacrosanct status.

The objective is to create a sense of unity in remembrance and perpetuate a loyalty to the nation state across the generations. What can be more emotional than knowing that your ancestor died for your country?

Beyond that, they died to defend certain values: democracy, freedom, and the institutions that enable us to have a good life today. Indeed, the fact that the German Chancellor attended indicates that Germany itself has repudiated its Nazi past, now subscribing to the idea of European unity together with its neighbours.

(However, it’s important to note that some countries highlight different values that support explicitly authoritarian and violent forms of government.)

Naturally there are various criticisms of this. Some object to the idea of valourising military deeds at all, suggesting that there are pacific ways of encapsulating patriotism (though nothing will satisfy the minority who are nauseated by the idea of patriotism itself ).

Others object to the championing of a particular narrative that accompanies such remembrances, which might stifle or criminalise other historical perspectives.

And then there’s the accusations of hypocrisy, since some of these countries are involved directly (through committing personnel or assets) or indirectly (through arms sales) in wars that are still ongoing today and killing thousands and driving millions into poverty.

There is much validity in these criticisms, and no doubt it serves the interests of the state to champion such commemorations.

But that doesn’t negate the very real positive and inspirational effect it has on millions of citizens. After all, out of the beautiful poetry, music and art invoked at such events, the ultimate message is “never again”.

We remember because humanity should never experience such devastation again. That is a necessary conclusion in a world of increasing polarisation, populism and aggressive nationalism.

At the Remembrance of the Centenary of the Armistice at the cenotaph next to Tugu Negara on Sunday organised by the British High Commission, representatives of the branches of the Malaysian armed forces laid wreaths along with the diplomatic corps and civil society organisations after the sounding of the Last Post.

Although World War I was relatively peripheral to what later became Malaysia, every Malaysian should know about the Battle of Penang and the existence of HMS Malaya.

In her speech, British High Commissioner Vicki Treadell rightly said that it was World War II that hit this region hard. Resting in the Commonwealth War Graves across 35 locations in Malaysia are brothers in arms of different races and religions. Tugu Negara commemorates them too, as well as those who died during the Emergency and Konfrontasi.

But even of World War II, there are so many important stories that are not told enough, of those who suffered the invasion that comprised aerial bombings and bayonets, or of those who experienced occupation, imprisonment and torture.

It was only quite recently that I have learnt of the Battle of Gemencheh Bridge in Negri Sembilan, or how Carcosa was used by Japanese officers.

In Singapore last week I visited the Battle Box, voted Singapore’s best museum. Formerly known as Headquarters Malaya Command Operations Bunker, it is where Lt-Gen Arthur Percival and his fellow officers decided to surrender to General Yamashita in February 1942.

Today, it tells the story of the war in Malaya and Singapore through brilliant tour guides, and I am hopeful that such a resource becomes available in Kuala Lumpur as well.

Although the attitude to commemoration ceremonies in Malaysia has shifted due to changing religious interpretations and a desire not to associate with colonial connotations, I hope the government understands how important it is that lessons of the past must be told.

Maj (Hon) Tunku Zain Al-‘Abidin is founding president of Ideas. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.