Lest we forget

Armistice Day began as a quiet, somber moment of national mourning after the First World War, centred on local memorials and reflective silence. After the Second World War it gradually evolved into Remembrance Sunday, with a more formal civic structure replacing raw grief. Over time, the symbols of remembrance shifted as well: the poppy became not just a token of mourning but a public signal of support for veterans, while debates about its politicisation, and the emergence of the white poppy, illustrate how memory is contested. Televised ceremonies have further transformed remembrance into a national performance, turning private reflection into shared ritual.

Recent years have added new layers of complexity. Commemorations now include modern conflicts, prompting some to worry that Armistice Day risks endorsing current military policy rather than reflecting on past sacrifice. The emphasis on uniformed displays, patriotic language, and large-scale spectacles can unintentionally overshadow the personal and ethical dimensions of remembrance, highlighting the tension between collective memory, identity, and political narratives.

From the perspective of Michel Foucault, this evolution is more than procedural. Foucault invites us to see remembrance as a mechanism that guides behaviour and shapes moral understanding. The rituals, the silences, the staged ceremonies all act as subtle forms of guidance, cultivating patterns of thought and emotional response across the population. Armistice Day does not merely commemorate the past; it also instructs the present, teaching lessons about duty, loyalty, and national identity, while highlighting which stories of sacrifice are amplified and which are quietly marginalised. Foucault might ask "who decides what Armistice Day looks like?", and he would more than likely caution that control is with the anonymous institutions.

The Stoics offer a complementary insight. While we cannot change the structures of ceremony or the events of history, we can cultivate our own responses, our judgment, courage, and ethical practice. Stoic reflection reminds us that the value of remembrance lies in how it informs our daily actions: how we treat others, act with fairness, and navigate challenges with temperance. By attending to what is within our control, we transform the memory of past sacrifice into living practice.

This dual lens, Foucauldian and Stoic, encourages a more active engagement with November 11th. Observe the rituals, reflect critically on the narratives presented, and consider who benefits from the stories that are told. Then, take the ethical lessons into your own life: speak truth where it matters, extend compassion where it is needed, and act courageously in ordinary circumstances. By doing so, remembrance becomes more than ceremony; it becomes a guide for ethical living, a reminder that history’s lessons are enacted in the small, deliberate choices we make every day. In this way, Armistice Day can be both an act of reflection and a catalyst for practical ethics. The past is fixed, but our engagement with it is dynamic. Rituals may shape collective perception, but within that structure we retain the power to act virtuously, thoughtfully, and consciously. Honouring memory, then, is not merely a matter of participation, it is a commitment to carry courage, justice, and integrity forward into our own lives.