My poppy is a symbol of heartfelt gratitude

author Matt haig has declared that he is not wearing a poppy this year. ‘I think it is shifting from a symbol remembering war’s horror, to a symbol of war-hungry nationalism,’ he announced to his 170,000 followers on twitter.

‘the moment wearing a poppy feels an obligation, rather than a choice, the freedom soldiers died for begins to fade,’ he huffed later. he is not alone. Simon Jenkins wrote in the Guardian yesterday that he has had enough of remembrance Day. he believes it to be a ‘synthetic festival whose time has passed’ and that the whole thing had become too self-congratulatory and reduced to the level of ‘corporate poppy’.

I don’t agree with either man on any point, particularly haig’s snowflakey hysteria that wearing a red paper flower on your lapel is a whisker away from being a warmongering call to arms.

Poppies are personal choices, but it is a sad yet not untypical sign of the times that the wearing, or not wearing, of one has become another virtue- signalling totem for the terminally self-important.

Mostly, I think it is just wrong to assume why others wear poppies, and to dismiss their often heartfelt reasons for doing so.

this week, like every year, I will continue to make my donation to the royal British Legion and wear my poppy with pride. Not to glorify war, not to show how patriotic I am, not because I am a victim of poppy tyranny, not to prove to the world that battered ol’ Britain is still a force to be reckoned with, not to signify some kind of tacit mightyrighty Brexit support and not as a war-cry to those who care to oppose British interests.

For me, and millions of others, a poppy is not a symbol of victory, but one of regret and remembrance.

I wear it as quiet support for soldiers past and soldiers present, in my father’s regiment and every other regiment.

I wear it to show my deep thanks to people I never met, to my greatuncles and others I never knew, in my family and in your family, who died and were maimed fighting for our freedoms — not so very long ago.

and also because by doing so, I am taking a tiny part in a moment of national mourning, in an annual ceremony whose rites and customs were laid down longer ago than most of us have been alive.

all this is still deeply meaningful to millions of people, who might be rather annoyed to have their emotions dismissed as synthetic.

Still, it doesn’t matter that Matt haig and Simon Jenkins choose not to wear a poppy. It matters that we do.