Queen sees the end to the Remembrance Service at the Cenotaph




That is what a document from the Royal Household, Buckingham Palace to HM Government suggests. Released recently into the public domain at the National Archives, was later stated as not being the Queen's personal view but the view of the Palace writer only. In fact, other documents within the file stress that the Queen had a wish to continue the ceremony. The Palace is reported as also stating that the time might come when it no longer command adequate public interest. In these circumstances, so the HM Home Office file continues '…it might be well to consider abandoning it altogether…'.
All this occurred during the mid-1970s, this apparent reflection being brought about by the move out of Whitehall of the Home Office to new premises close by. The Home Office had 'owned' the Remembrance ceremony and due to its impending departure was instigating moves to transfer this 'ownership' to whichever government department was to transfer to Whitehall in their place. It was even muted at one point that the Cenotaph be relocated so as to facilitate the Home Office to continue in their duties of ownership.
The Remembrance ceremony at the Cenotaph seems to me to be as relevant as ever and although some changes have been established in the ensuing years the service in November remains today the solemn act of remembering the fallen that I would remember attending in my hometown as a child albeit not in so grand an environment as Whitehall. Today, if I wished to attend the Cenotaph ceremony, I would have quite a task convincing those that make the decisions on who should attend to allow me to do so. Due to the threats of terrorism and other factors the annual ceremony is now by invitation only and restricted in the main to those communities associated with the Royal British Legion.
Whereas that is to be expected in today's society, these restrictions echo a previous regime of restrictions which were in force during the 1920s when Sir Edwin Lutyen’s Cenotaph was first unveiled to the public in its temporary and later permanent form. During these early ceremonies, attendance was restricted to officer only members of English regiments and no sign of former Scottish, Welsh or even Commonwealth servicemen would be seen in attendance.
The annual Cenotaph service is by far the most important and visible signs of Remembrance this nation exercises during November each year. There are but a handful of World War One veterans that can attend such ceremonies today. Eventually this will diminish to zero. Maybe it was the Palace view back in 1974 that had foreseen such circumstances occurring and were planning for change whether that might be rapid or gradual. The extent of conflicts that engage our servicemen today with the accompanying loss of life we have witnessed and are still witnessing, has surely prevented any thought of ending this service in the near term.
Back in the 1970s, the authorities proposals for change were motivated by the need to '…make the ceremony more meaningful and relevant for [the then] present day society…' something which I feel has happened to an extent. Today our motivation should be consistent with the same principles of Remembrance that guided society and Lutyens in the 1920s to establish the near monolithic Cenotaph and the service of Remembrance as it has evolved.
On any other day of the year as you walk the length of Whitehall, it is doubtful whether the Cenotaph makes anything other than a small impression on one’s mind. Even its being or ‘thingness’ in Kantian terms, is transparent to the majority of tourists that frequent this part of the capital. It remains silent and unassuming. For the Remembrance service though, the Cenotaph is transformed into a place of community and collective thought. Thought for those that fell on our behalf and never grew old and for remembrance of those that still choose to do so and risk that outcome. It is not a place for politics despite its proximity to the state apparatus. It and the annual service of Remembrance remain an enduring monument and a structure to which British society can teach itself its own belonging in this rapidly changing world. If anyone knew this feeling better than most it was Sir Christopher Wren: Si monumentum requiris circumspice – if you seek his monument look around you.