Although there’s lots in the paper about it, and people wearing poppies are everywhere, Remembrance Day seems to have less of a hold over Canadian life than Anzac Day in either New Zealand or Australia. Anzac Day commemorates the Anzac (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) losses at Gallipoli in the First World War on April 25th each year. It is extremely important to New Zealanders, no matter what their politics — Anzac Day enjoys unusual reverence in a country where emotional public rituals are otherwise absent.
As a child, I never went to the Dawn Service (living on a dairy farm, the cows are milked at dawn whether it’s Anzac Day or not). Nevertheless, it seems the right time of day to me, the sun slowly rising up the autumnal sky, heralding a new day while the living remember the sacrifices made by so many. I understand why the Remembrance Day services here start at 11 am, but emotionally dawn means so much more.
Remembrance Day and Anzac Day are both days for remembering and mourning and wondering what it will take (or, indeed, if it’s even possible) for humans to learn to negotiate with words rather than munitions. The current news from much of Africa reminds us all how hard that is.
It’s different, because Waitangi Day has different emotional connotations (Wikipedia has a reasonable summary of some of the issues).
What, messing about with flagpoles on 6 February doesn’t count as an emotional public ritual?
Sure, and it depends on whether you are Maori or Paheka, and (like St. Patrick’s Day) whether you are at home or abroad. But in any case there are public rituals performed that have emotional content.
An interesting sidenote from a member of the “greatest generation”: as a child 11/11 was called “Armistice Day” and celebrated an end to war. It later became “Veterans’ Day” and I still think that is part of the problem with us continuing to design/build cluster bombs, land mines, and warheads of all sorts.
It seems to me to represent homage to war, rather than to peace and I hate it.
Love.