Symbols of a nation

There are few more dignified and moving events in the national calendar than the annual Service of Remembrance at the Cenotaph. On a chill November day in Whitehall, this year’s formalities were notable for the Queen’s decision not to play a direct part. She watched, with the Duke of Edinburgh, from a balcony as the Prince of Wales laid the sovereign’s wreath on behalf of the nation.

The ceremonial has developed over the decades since the Lutyens-designed Cenotaph was inaugurated as the nation’s central monument for remembering its war dead in 1920. The massed bands of the Armed Forces play Elgar, Purcell and Handel; the two-minute silence is followed by Last

Post; the choirboys of the Chapel Royal, resplendent in their red and white livery, sing the hymns; members of the Royal family, politicians and senior officers in the Services lay wreaths; and thousands of veterans march past the Cenotaph to tunes including It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.

It is a fitting ritual that honours those who have sacrificed their lives for their country. But it is also redolent with the symbolism of nationhood. The Crown, Parliament, the Armed Forces, the Church, the Commonwealth – all are institutions that define the United Kingdom.

The Cenotaph service is first and foremost staged to honour the fallen; but it also acts as an annual renewal of the symbols of the nation for which they died and whose continuation is evidence that their sacrifice was not in vain. It was heartening that one of those national symbols, currently silenced by repairs at the Palace of Westminster, was able to play its part. To hear Big Ben again was to appreciate how much it is missed.