"As Swimmers Into Cleanness Leaping"

I was reading some of the so-called "War Poets" last evening, preparatory I suppose to Memorial Day, or perhaps more properly inspired by it.  Those poets were, of course, poets of the First World War.  Rupert Brooke, from whose poem Peace the title of this post is taken, was for me the most able of those poets.  He was also the most inclined to write of the war they called the Great War as truly great, as it seems to have been to him in some manner grand.  Not in showy sense, not in a glorious sense, but profound.  A means he may have thought by which men also became great.

It's unfortunate, then, that he died as he did.  His death wasn't grand, or inspiring or profound.  He died of a mosquito bite which became infected, on a ship on its way to Gallipoli.  In those days infections of various sorts could turn out to be fatal. 

That said, the image of death invoked by the title to this post is striking.  It's said Brooke was an atheist, but it's difficult to think of him as such while reading this poem, or sonnet.  If I interpret it correctly, which is always uncertain, one is blessed by the peace of death, transformed into a part of something very great indeed.  Something different from and finer than humanity or the world we humans have made.

His poetry is his memorial.  Is it a memorial of war, though? 

It's interesting in considering Memorial Day to wonder just what memorials of war are supposed to be, what they are and what they have been.  It seems to me that war memorials now are something different from what they were in the past.  It's likely we've always made such memorials, but for a different purpose or different purposes.  Ancient Roman war memorials abound.  There are the arches of Titus, Constantine, Septimius Severus; there are the columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius.  They and most if not all ancient war memorials honored great victories of great men.  Although soldiers appeared on the memorials, particularly on the columns, they were not memorials of the soldiers themselves.

War memorials came to be erected to honor those who fought the wars only recently in the scheme of things as far as I can tell.  We see them beginning in the 19th century.  The late 19th century, I believe, is when they became common.  Even the memorial erected after the battle of Waterloo, the so-called Lion's Mound, though it wasn't intended merely to commemorate the Prince of Orange  but the victory over Napoleon, can't be said to be a war memorial as we know them now.

Perhaps they began with the U.S. Civil War.  That would seem to be when special cemeteries were set aside for those killed in battle, in any event.  Then came the First and Second World Wars, and more cemeteries, and tombs of unknown soldiers, and monuments, everywhere.

The memorials we're familiar with seem to be associated with war as it came to be fought not by professional or mercenary armies, but armies which were formed by conscription.  Or, perhaps, they came to be as war came to be fought by huge masses and came to impact on societies in general.  The losses incurred in the terrible wars fought beginning in the 19th century were so enormous and affected so many that it was felt necessary to memorialize them in ways that were different in quality and quantity from prior memorials.

Those memorials are altogether fitting, to paraphrase Lincoln at Gettysburg.  The sacrifices made should be honored, as they're beyond measurement.  And it's good we honor those who sacrificed themselves and not merely emperors and kings and generals who committed them to their fates.

Memorials are supposed to serve another purpose as well, though, or so it's said.  They're to serve to remind of those losses.  And doubtless they do.  It's curious, though, that while we remember we continue to wage war.  We don't forget the horrors of war but keep fighting wars, and then erect additional memorials to them and those who died fighting them.

Dis Manibus Sacrum

These words appeared on Roman tombstones, even into the Christian era.  Sometimes, only the words "Dis Manibus" were used, sometimes only the initials, D M (the Romans were partial to abbreviations, particularly when it came to the strenuous and no doubt expensive business of putting letters on stone or marble).  To the spirits of the dead.  We come to another Memorial Day.

It is a day on which we are to remember those who have died, especially those who have died while members of, or who are or have served in, the armed forces.  Instead, some of us spend the day golfing (as did your humble writer of posts on this blog) or in parades or seeing relatives; it is after all a holiday.  There are memorials I should visit and would like to visit, regardless of their service.  My grandparents are buried near the graves of Al Capone and Frank Nitti and among others who were of Italian descent and were in Chicago when they died.  Many of my parents' generation served in the armed forces; some dead, some yet to die.

I did not.  I turned 18 during the Vietnam War, and duly registered for the draft but was not drafted.  I came of draft age during the latter part of that war, and less and less of us were being selected.  I went to college and so no doubt was subject to deferments.  I think I would have served if drafted.

In the increasingly distant days of my youth, those who served were not honored as they should have been.  Now it seems they are, but because we feel (those of the Vietnam era especially, perhaps) we have not done so as appropriate in the past, we may be said to overdo it, strange as that may seem.  That is due to the the seemingly constant use of the word "heroes."  This devalues the word.  When everyone is a hero, there are few heroes, properly speaking.  It has become a kind of cant, unfortunately.  There is something disturbing about the constant reference to anyone who wears a uniform as being a hero, even something insincere, perhaps even patronizing.  We have become like Uriah Heep, but instead of being perpetually humble we perpetually tout our many heroes. 

That those who serve do something honorable is clear.  That they put themselves in harm's way when in combat is apparent.  So we should honor them, but I don't think we do so when we call all of them heroes, as a matter of course. 

Honoring the dead is an odd business.  They're beyond our ceremonies.  Nonetheless we give them honor and have done so apparently throughout our history.  It is one of our peculiarities.  Creatures are deemed human when they begin to do this for, or to, their dead.  It is a cliche that our ceremonies for the dead are in fact for the living, but in the past there was a real concern that the dead would not take a lack of respect kindly, and would make this known.

Honoring the dead is just something that we do.  I wonder if we do so merely as a custom derived from an ancient fear.  I think, though, that we believe it to be something that should be done.  A sense of duty is involved.  It's one of those "shoulds" which raise questions regarding duty, regarding the role of ethics and morality in our lives.  I'm surprised I know of no philosopher who has done so, but think there must be one who has or does.  It may be similar to altruism, as we can expect no benefit from the dead, beyond the fact that they will, if placated and given their customary honors, not cause us concern.  Somehow, though, they always seem to do just that.

P.S.  I see someone named Chris Hayes of MSNBC has got himself into trouble for expressing discomfort with the use of the word "hero."  His error, I think, was to question its use to describe fallen soldiers (instead of to anyone who has ever worn a uniform), but more importantly to speculate that the use of the word may be used to glorify war and is being used to justify "more war."  I think not.  The days when we sought war in order to die a heroic death are over for most of us, and I doubt those who seek to justify war, to the extent they exist, mean to do so by urging us to die in one.

Ethics and the Dead: Some Thoughts

Another Memorial Day in this republic.

I recently encountered the view that the dead have no rights.  Therefore, goes the argument, it's improper to assert that their rights are somehow violated if some lunatic does things to them like desecrate their graves, or other--even worse--things.  Egyptologists and othe archaeologists, who have been merrily descrating graves for some time now, are generally mentioned in this connection.  If the dead have no rights, it would seem to follow that we have no obligations to them, either.

I'm one who thinks it is proper to honor the dead, and to respect them.  I don't think I'm alone; in fact, I think most humans feel this way, and have felt this way for a very long time.  Does the claim that the dead have no rights then constitute yet another example of certain of us denying or doubting for no clear reason that which most of us don't deny or doubt, coupled with the assertion that there is nothing wrong about doing that which most of us wouldn't do or think of doing?

Perhaps.  But, there is no question that the dead are no longer aware; they can't feel pain; they can't protest; they no longer exist as we do.  There is some difference then between desecrating a grave, for example, and burying someone in one while they are alive.  Certainly the consequences of acts against the dead are different from acts against the living.

So it can be maintained reasonably enough that we don't honor the dead or respect the dead, or refrain from defiling them or their graves, due to some expected consequences to them we find desirable or undesirable or think they would find desirable or undesirable (or don't anymore for the most part, in any case).

There are, though, certain characteristics and acts most of us humans have admired and honored throughout our history, with good reason.  Among these are courage, wisdom, self-sacrifice, duty.  And there is also certain conduct which we have found contemptible and improper throughout our history--conduct which we feel degrades us when we engage in it, which we feel is wrong.  I think such things are involved in explaining why we honor and respect the dead.

Now of course some will ask why we do so, and more specifically why such feelings are appropriate or good.  Well, we've been around for some time now.  We've been interacting with each other and our environment all the time we've been around.  In the course of that interaction most of us have come to value certain conduct and to deplore other conduct.  This all seems undeniable, and even objectively verifiable.  Doesn't the fact that most humans have felt this way and acted this way for such a long time tell us something regarding our nature and what we have found to be a viable way to live among one another over a great period of time?  It would seem more appropriate under the circumstances to respond to those who ask why we do so why they feel there is no basis for us doing so, or why they feel we should do otherwise.  Do they maintain we should act otherwise?  If that's the case, they should explain why they feel that way.  If they can't provide a reasonable explanation, they can't, and we should judge their position accordingly.  If they respond they don't feel we should do otherwise, they're just wondering why we act as we do, and what our justification is for doing so, then wouldn't it seem reasonable to respond as to the first inquiry--well, that's an interesting speculation, here's why I think we do, and then go on with life; as to the second inquiry--why do you feel there must be something more in the way of justification?