Last Monday, Belgium, France, Germany and the United Kingdom solemnly marked the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I. At 11pm on August 4, 1914, Britain, bound by treaty to Belgium, declared war on Germany for having violated Belgium’s neutrality in order to invade France. Then British Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey is supposed to have presciently said: “The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our life.”
These words were the inspiration for perhaps the most poignant of commemorative events last Monday: between 10 and 11pm, the congregation at Westminster Abbey in London gradually extinguished the candles they held, culminating in the dousing of an oil lamp at the Grave of the Unknown Warrior, on the stroke of 11. This act of homage and remembrance was mirrored across the UK, as public buildings and homes also turned off their lights, some leaving a single light or candle burning to honour the symbolic moment when the lights went out in Europe.
On Monday too, at Glasgow Cathedral, with the Commonwealth Games having come to a rousing climax in that city the day before, representatives from Commonwealth nations joined Prince Charles and British Prime Minister David Cameron for a rather more sombre ceremony to mark the centenary, for when Britain went to war, it took its Empire with it.
According to The Daily Telegraph, the broadcaster Sir Trevor McDonald reminded the gathering of the contribution and sacrifice of the “Commonwealth brothers and sisters”: more than a million Indians served in the Great War and 54,000 died; of 645,000 Canadian soldiers, 66,000 lost their lives; 416,000 came from Australia, with 59,000 killed; some 60,000 from Africa fought for the Allied forces, suffering 7,000 fatalities. But the lists do not tell the full story of those physically and mentally scarred for life and it was a pity that the Trinidad-born Sir Trevor seemingly made no mention of the modest yet equally honourable contribution of West Indian soldiers to the war effort.
Nevertheless, throughout the commemorations, there was a strong sense that the indescribable horrors of war and the supreme sacrifice of some 16 million soldiers and non-combatants in the First World War should never be forgotten.
Accordingly, Prince William, representing Queen Elizabeth II at a service in Belgium, quoted Edith Cavell, a British nurse who attended to soldiers on both sides: “I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone.” He added, “It took another terrible war to learn the truth of her words, and even today we continue to learn that lesson,” referring to “the events in Ukraine” and “the fact that instability continues to stalk our continent.” But he praised “the power of reconciliation” highlighting that former enemies are now friends. In this respect, perhaps the most powerful message of reconciliation came from German President Joachim Gauck who apologised for the “completely unjustifiable” invasion of Belgium, blaming “extreme nationalism” and expressing gratitude for the peace now enjoyed by Europe.
Similarly, Mr Cameron said in Glasgow that “we should never fail to cherish the peace between these nations, and never underestimate the patient work it has taken to build that peace. So, 100 years on, it is right that collectively we stop; we pause; and we repledge this for the next 100 years. We will never forget.”
The big question of course is, despite all the noble sentiments and fine speeches, despite the incontestable evidence of the tragic futility of war, especially in the last century, will those fighting for their particular causes in hotspots such as Afghanistan, Gaza, Iraq and Ukraine, heed history’s lessons?
Closer to home, we too observe Remembrance Day every year and honour those Guyanese who gave their lives in the two world wars but, generally, except for a few families, the memories and the significance of those far-away wars have been dimmed by time.
We are not a bellicose nation. But our history is punctuated by violence, from the clash of cultures heralded by the arrival of the first Europeans, through colonialism and slavery, to the civil strife of the early 1960s and, more recently, the murderous crime wave unleashed by the 2002 Mashramani jailbreak. And with each passing day, the headlines remind us how easy it is to succumb to the lure of violence. Sadly, we have become a society too prone to insecurity and rage and too many families are grieving with no promise of closure in sight. We are far from the apocalyptic horrors of the First World War but we cannot be complacent about lingering tensions and urges. Nor do present generations have the luxury of 100 years to find peace as a nation. Will we heed history’s lessons?
