Remembrance is an act that brings Britain together

It’s harder to learn from the heroic sacrifices of past generations if we no longer have a living connection

This Sunday, on the centenary of the Armistice that ended the First World War, we will promise to “remember them”. And thanks to the Remembrance Sunday tradition, we know we will. But will we learn from them?

Our memory of the Great War is different to that of the Second World War. Perhaps it was the chaotic way in which the “sleepwalkers” – the countries of Europe – descended into conflict in 1914.

Perhaps it was the futility of the stalemate, and the tiny strips of territory won and lost at the cost of thousands of lives. Perhaps, in comparison with the war waged against Hitler, Mussolini and Hirohito, the moral purpose of the First World War feels less clear-cut.

Popular history and culture have played a part. In the Second World War, the Battle of Britain was our “finest hour”. In the Great War, our soldiers were “lions led by donkeys”. Films celebrate our heroism in the Second World War, while Oh! What a

Lovely War and Blackadder Goes Forth condemn the senseless slaughter of the Somme and Passchendaele.

Another difference, for my generation at least, is the living connection with the Second World War. I grew up listening to my grandfather describe how the glow of the fires from the Coventry bombing could be seen from Birmingham. My other grandfather was a teenage prisoner of war and, though my family did not appreciate it while he lived, he probably had post-traumatic stress disorder.

Of course it was not only men who suffered: my grandmother narrowly escaped a burning factory during the Blitz. In Burma and France, she lost both of her brothers.

Like most of their generation, my grandparents are no longer with us. And so the next generation – the children at school today – have no living connection with the war, just as I grew up without a personal connection to the First World War. The responsibility to make sure they remember – and learn from – the sacrifices made by those incredible generations remains as strong as ever.

Our shared national stories are sometimes dismissed as backwardlooking, exclusive and even chauvinistic in all senses: nationalistic and too focused on the exploits of white men. But on Sunday veterans of all races and religions, and of both sexes, will march down Whitehall together. And as the attendance of President Steinmeier of Germany at the Cenotaph will show, tradition and national remembrance can bring countries together.

It also brings Britain together. Without shared stories, our shared national identity grows weaker. And without that collective identity, our solidarity towards one another erodes, as modern psychological studies now prove. It is no coincidence that the modern welfare state and public services were created in the aftermath of the Second World War. It is no coincidence that support for progressive taxation has declined as our identities have grown more complex.

Remembrance is important for many reasons, therefore. But the passage of time presents a challenge to us. We can remember the generations who gave their today for our tomorrow. But without a living connection to them, learning from their sacrifice becomes harder.

It might be too much to compare the great power rivalry at the beginning of the 20th century with the rise of China and the relative decline of the United States. It is certainly too much to say that the rise of populism is analogous to the rise of fascism in the 1930s.

But we should approach the changing balance of global power with caution and wisdom. We must take seriously the disrespect that populist governments have shown for the rule of law, minority rights and the free press. And we should be resolute in facing down the anti-semitism which is shamefully increasing across the West. Young people in particular, who are growing up exposed to the lies and hatred of extremists on social media, need to be capable of learning the lessons of the past.

And political leaders need to be mindful of the turning wheel of history. Many of those who negotiated the Good Friday Agreement lament that their younger successors, in London and Belfast but especially Dublin, do not understand the conflict or its peace process as they negotiate Brexit. I am 38, and many people my age cannot remember the Troubles in Northern Ireland first-hand.

For their part, middle-aged politicians probably do not stop to think that today’s university graduates cannot remember the 9/11 attacks in 2001. Nor that fresh-faced City workers barely remember the collapse of Lehman Brothers in 2008. Our personal connections to the events of the past are destined to fade, but it is our duty to make sure we remember them and heed their lessons.

“Age will not weary them,” we will say this Sunday, but time can make fools of us. We will remember, this weekend, but those we remember would want us to learn from their experiences. That is how we can honour them best.