Today is always an odd day for me. As a pacifist, I sometimes feel a conflict with my patriotism, as there are times when pacifistic ideals are not consistent with what the general public sees as patriotism. To a pacifist, I guess, the love of one's country does not spell out, "My Country, Right or Wrong," but is invested in wanting the best for the country, but also
expecting the best of the country. Remembrance Day, then, is a conflicted day for me, especially since it has been adopted by less-clear-cut wars.
The Canadian involvement in WWI and WWII were, in terms of human effort, nothing short of heroic, even for those of us who don't often use that term in connection with soldiering. These were not wars of aggression, as Canada stood to gain no territory, and in many ways they were fought to halt aggression, according to history. Yet, I do not see them as purely altruistic wars. Yes, WWII saved the lives of millions of Jews and other prisoners in Nazi occupied territories, but the myth that WWII was waged to save the Jews is as erroneous as it is harmful.
They were actually wars fought to support the mother country, Britain, and, to a lesser extent, other allies. And, in this, I can see the point of the French and the Irish who resisted conscription on the basis that England was not their mother. Protecting ties is not altruism; it is merely protecting the symbiotic web upon which you rely.
And, while history records these wars as "Good Wars," I also have a deep-seated discomfort with claiming any war "good"... though, I suppose since Canada did not start these wars, we cannot primarily pin the bad on them.
Having said all that, there are in fact three interconnected reasons why I, as a pacifist, wear the poppy and keep Remembrance Day (aside from it being deeply soaked into my Nova Scotian roots).
First, Remembrance Day reminds me that WWI was Canada's birth. Though the nation factually dates to Confederation, Canada did not actually shed its colonial identity until WWI, and the way we see ourselves is deeply embedded in the trenches of Vimy Ridge, Ypres, Passchendaele, Beaumont Hamel... Places of unimaginable muck and gore, but also of strength and incredible will power. For a nation who claims that having no identity is our identity, we seem to get an awful lot of our sense of selves from these places. Like that legendary
crucified soldier, we see ourselves as tireless workhorses, dedicated to our causes, and plain but powerful. Canadians, if nothing else, stand our ground, and work without complaint in some of the roughest conditions (or so we like to imagine).
It was WWI were Canada first fought not as a corps of the UK, but as Canadians, and it was WWI during which Canadians learned that people thought of them as "Canadians," a reputation that took on a specific character during WWI that has stuck.
Second, I wear it not out of support for the nations who wage war like bloody games of life-size chess from paper-strewn offices, but for the men and women who died. I don't give into the rhetoric of "they died for my freedom" as much as others do, but I can express grief that they died, nonetheless. The brightest flower of multiple generations was snuffed out during the world wars. And the poppy is worth it, for that reason alone, but it also shows solidarity with the now old men who gave up their carefree youthes to see what most of us, thankfully, do not have to witness.
Third, I wear the poppy to remind myself of all these, and the million other, ambiguities of war. The bright, cheerful head of the poppy waves over the bones of people killed in ways I cannot fully imagine. Today, we feel pride and sadness, horror and also a kind of happiness. War made Canada, but we are something of a peaceful nation. A crucified soldier might be forever in glory, but he remains just as dead, and just as mutilated. Blood and mud and excrement, the reality, gives way to this bright, shiny thing in history, which is also a type of reality for those of us who live in the fruits of their labour. And every time I put on my coat, I am reminded of that ambiguity of war, which keeps me neither too patriotic, nor too pacifist.
So, yes... I am a conflicted pacifist wearing a poppy today. And a Canadian, whatever that means. Most of the time, I am simply in the trenches of life trying to keep my matches dry. But, today, it's good to remember.
