The Cenotaph. Marching bands. Military parades. The Last
Post. Wreath laying. Religious readings. They
do not grow old, as we that are left grow old…Rousing music and the
national anthem.
All the standard ingredients for the Remembrance Day that we
are all so familiar with from the TV broadcast of Remembrance Day in Whitehall.
All present too in Hong Kong – right down to the fact that the Cenotaph is an
exact replica to the one outside the Foreign Office.
But look even a little bit closer, and you’ll find a
ceremony that is completely different here. Utterly unique to its post-colonial
time and place. And entirely appropriate – odd to freshly minted expats like me
perhaps, but a poignant and well-thought out occasion, that felt every bit as
sombre as any gathering back in the UK is likely to be today.
The Cenotaph itself is flanked not by Government buildings,
but the Hong Kong Club, HSBC and the Mandarin Oriental. And fluttering on it
are the Hong Kong, HK Veterans’ Association and Chinese flags, rather than those
of the wings of the UK military and Union Jack.
The marching bands, complete with bagpipers – looking immaculate in brilliant white
with blue braid and shining black shoes – are not from some Scottish guards’ regiment or
other, but the Hong Kong police marching band.
The military parading was performed not by veterans – though
the ever diminishing and frail-looking
veterans of the fighting in Hong Kong in WWII were present – but by
cadets of various types. Alarmingly, these included boys and girls who looked
as young as 14, all of whom were armed with modern assault rifles, which in
some cases were almost as tall as their bearer. The honour guards were older
members of these groups, who all marched, much foot stamping and arm waving, to
the corners of the Cenotaph plinth and then stood heads down and rifles pointed
to the floor, stock still, for 45 minutes.
The Last post was played not from a balcony of a Whitehall department,
but from the balcony of the Hong Kong Club.
The wreath laying was a complex affair, and included a much
more diverse range of groups than you would expect at home. For starters,
wreaths were laid from all 4 sides of the Cenotaph, with the groups broadly
divided into – commercial/pillars of HK life (Jardines led that group);
Government and overseas representatives; veterans’ associations;
voluntary/community groups. And the layers were led not by Royalty, but a
representative of the HK Government.
And whilst the religious readings were led and concluded by the
CofE bishop of St.Paul’s, complete with billowing robes and stereotypically
sonorous voice, he was joined in prayer by a Catholic bishop, a Muslim cleric, a
Rabbi, a Hindu priest, a Taoist monk, a Buddhist monk and a Confucian priest.
The reading proclaiming that at the going down of the sun, and in the morning, We will remember them was read solemnly
by a retired brigadier of a UK tank regiment; and a good portion of the crowd
murmured the last line in response. So far, so normal. But I have never heard
it said in Chinese before, nor heard the final line also repeated by the
Cantonese section of the crowd.
Rousing music yes, but none of what you’d expect. Religious
songs avoided, no marching songs that are linked to the British Army. But that
did mean some other unexpected tear jerkers came out instead – Nimrod (which
for me now, after the Opening Ceremony, will always equate with the Olympics)
provided a particularly unexpected emotional journey.
And most notably, the sensitivities that make this ceremony
such an intricate balancing act were clearest in who was not there. UK and foreign military personnel did lay wreaths, but
either for veterans’ societies or in a diplomatic or even private capacity – no-one
directly on behalf of any armed forces. Equally, not one person there was a
direct representative of the Chinese Mainland government, nor from the People’s
Liberation Army.
And so, as a result of these deliberate omissions, the
bizarre denouement of what is usually a quintessentially British event was a
rendition of the national anthem. The Chinese
national anthem. Which was saluted by Hong Kongers, veterans of many
ethnicities and the UK military personnel present in other capacities mentioned
above. Without a single Chinese government or army representative in site.
As many of my posts keep saying – only in Hong Kong.
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