St Edburg's Church - Bicester
Thought of the week
As the 20th century dawned, Europe held half the world’s population under its sway and controlled 85% of world trade. No other continent or group of peoples had ever claimed such mastery over the planet. This supremacy gave rise to a sense that Europeans were a superior race, with a right – and perhaps a duty – to conquer other, to rule them and convert them to Christianity. Europe had reached an evolutionary climax, and was tempted to define the word “civilization” in its own terms. It was the moment when it flew too close to the sun.
Not my prose, I’m afraid, but Simon Jenkins’, in his A Short History of Europe.
For though the 19th century was Europe’s, in the 20th century it all unravelled. Dramatically, as Europe engulfed itself and the wider world in two major wars. In doing so it sacrificed both its worldly power and its moral authority. This was a tragedy, not just in the millions or lives lost and heritage destroyed, but because Europeans, after centuries of Christianity, should have been in a position to serve the world in an enlightened, liberal and Christian way. Instead, our ancestors blew it.
When will they ever learn? asked Pete Seeger in his 1960s folksong about the futility of war. Where have all the young men gone? asks another verse; followed by Gone to soldiers every one, and Gone to graveyards, everyone. It’s a song about the never-ending cycle of war and its futility.
It’s a question I ask myself every Remembrance Sunday. Perhaps it should be put; When will we ever learn? Remembrance Sunday is about making sure we never forget and constantly asking ourselves that question. At least we entered WW2 with a valid objective, which was successfully, though expensively, achieved. As we remember the millions who died and those who continue to die in the tragedy of war, we never stop asking that question; when will we ever learn?
Michael Kingston