At the start of last week, I was thinking my regular Remembrance season thoughts – Are people wearing poppies earlier every year? – and by the middle of the week, I’d agreed to have a quick morning argument about poppies on the radio. David Lammy had been caught in parliament without one, and roundly castigated. He had responded with sentiments to the effect that Remembrance Sunday was the most important day of the year; nobody found it more important than him; anyone who didn’t think it was important was not a patriot; and by sheer hideous happenstance, he had a new suit, and his poppy was on the other suit.
Yes, that sound like the sort of hopelessly incompetent bluster one can expect when David Lamentable has been caught out again...
Some of us were thus called on to adjudicate on remembrance, while the more agile wing of the commentariat was wondering how Lammy could afford a new suit.
Perhaps he too is a friend of Lord Ali?
Anyway, my line hasn’t changed on this for at least 25 years. Wear a poppy, don’t wear a poppy, both are legitimate positions. Honouring the fallen is worthwhile. Finding all that performative honour a bit militaristic, and declining to have your love of country elided with celebration of war, even in a tinged-with-sorrow way, also worthwhile. You do you.
Strange hoe suddenly it's up to individuals, and to suggest that they ought to wear a visible sign of approval with something is not considered an appalling attack on the thing itself, eh?
Anyway, Sunday came, I was bombing along the Thames on my bike, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t allowed to cycle round Parliament Square, nor why all the crash barriers were down across Westminster Bridge. It wasn’t until I noticed a large number of people wearing medals that I clocked it; I’d spent so long arguing about poppies that I’d forgotten it was Remembrance Sunday.
Ladies and gentleman, the Left! So in touch with Britain!
