Hello! I am trying to get this blog back into service as part of my ongoing professional military development. This is a book review that I submitted to the Canadian Military Journal this week. The authors' left-wing perspective will be quite foreign to most members of the Canadian Armed Forces, but hearing a different voice is often a valuable experience. MP
The Vimy Trap: Or, How We Learned To Stop
Worrying and Love the Great War
By Ian McKay and Jamie
Swift. Toronto: Between the Lines, 2016. 372 pages, $22.93.
The Vimy Trap is an extended critique of the place of the 1917 battle of Vmy Ridge in
Canadian identity. McKay, an academic,
and Swift, a journalist, have spent their careers examining Canadian history
and institutions from a left-wing perspective. As their book’s title snarky title suggests,
they reject the idea that Vimy was a foundational moment when a true Canadian
identity and nation were born. This
provocative book is intended for a general audience, and is clearly intended to
challenge a history that we have gotten very comfortable with.
McKay and Swift are at
their best when describing the process by which Vimy Ridge became an iconic
battle for Canada. While tactically
successful, Vimy Ridge did not have a strategic result. In fact, Vimy was the sole bright spot in the
failed Anglo-French Arras offensive of April 1917. Other Canadian actions, such as the Hundred
Days in 1918, had far more effect on the outcome of the war. However, Vimy was the first time that the
Canadian Corps had fought together, (albeit with significant British support),
a point of pride to Canadians who took part in the fighting.
Immediately after the
war there was disagreement as to whether Vimy should be selected over other
Canadian battlefields (Hill 62 in the Ypres Salient was a candidate) to be the
site of a national memorial. By 1922 Vimy
had been selected, in part because the scenic view, and the contract for the
design of a monument was awarded to Walter Allward, The driving force for the Vimy memorial came
from William Mackenzie King, who first became Prime Minister in 1921. As McKay and Swift note, King was a pacifist,
and saw the Vimy monument as a way to condemn the “futility of war” while
acknowledging the coming together of all Canadians in a great common
cause. Allward, the designer, wanted the
Vimy monument to be a “sermon against the futility of war”.
McKay and Swift’s main thesis is that this ideal of a monument to peace was hijacked by a militaristic, nationalistic view of Canadian history that ignored the horrors of World War One. The authors describe this view as “Vimyism”, meaning a glorification and simplification of war, a desire to see Canada as always being on the side of right, and to see the battle of Vimy Ridge as the birth of a nation that was in fact far from unified. This idea of “Vimyism”, which becomes a long screed against militarism, is where McKay and Swift overplay their hand while pointing at some important truths.
McKay and Swift are
right to remind us that Canada had no common or romanticised understanding of
war in the decades after 1918. There
was a sizeable peace movement, fueled by trade unions, unemployment, social
issues, pacifist clergy, and antiwar soldier writers such as Charles Yale
Harrison, whose novel Generals Die In Bed
(1928) is often hailed as the Canadian version of Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front. However, in the late 1930s Canadian pacifism
largely gave way to a grudging belief that a war against Nazi Germany was
necessary. “Vimyism”, claim the
authors, developed in the last fifty years as a whitewashed version of Canada’s
military history, so that Vimy is portrayed by everyone from Pierre Berton to
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau as a glorification of Canada’s military history
and a celebration of a common Canadian resolve to fight tyranny and win.
In a rambling second half,
the authors argue that for Vimyism to succeed as the myth of Canada’s birth in
fire, much has to be forgotten, from the horrors of war as described by
Harrison, to French Canada’s alienation from the war, the segregation of black
Canadian soldiers in construction units, and the poor treatment of indigenous
soldiers who did not receive proper pensions.
Vimyism for Swift and McKay also means forgetting the injustice of
shooting of twenty-two Canadian soldiers, many of them young and
psychologically wounded, for cowardice.
From the sales of war toys in the gift shop of the Canadian War Museum
to Vimy tours for schoolchildren, the authors cast a wide net in looking for evidence of Vimyism as a
false but “uplifting and sacred story of [Canadian] origins” that betrays the
true horror of war. To prosecute their
case, McKay and Swift often use “what about” arguments, like supposedly noble
Canadian soldiers executing prisoners or employing poison gas, or snide
dismissals such as the comment that military intelligence and martial music are
contradictions in terms. All of these arguments
are intended to expose Vimyism as a lie, though one can ask whether it’s fair
to judge the Canada of 1917 by today’s standards.
Members of Joint Task Force Nijmigen participate in a short commemorative ceremony at the Vimy War Memorial at Vimy Ridge on July 15, 2017, prior to the 101st International Four Day Marches Nijmegen, in the Netherlands, 18-21 July, 2017. Photo MCpl Charles A. Stephen, CAF
One of the monuments placed at Vimy after the battle by members of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. Canadian War Museum.
The
Vimy Trap is nevertheless useful as an opportunity to reflect on how the
CAF uses military history to perpetuate its values. Young NCMs are frequently taken on tours of
Vimy Ridge and other First World War battlefields. In my experience, when our members see cemeteries
full of Canadians as young or even younger than themselves, they are not moved
to militaristic zeal. In fact, quite the
reverse. Older members with combat
experience immediately connect the war dead with their own friends and comrades
lost or wounded in Afghanistan.
Militarism for the CAF is not the problem. Perhaps for our leadership, the challenge
is to use places like Vimy Ridge honestly, as historical moments, stripped of myth
and full of pain and horror, yet still capable of teaching the military ethos
of courage, self-sacrifice, tactical skill, and aggressiveness.
1 comment:
Mike,
Thank you for another thoughtful and well written review. There is something to be said for attempting to understand your critics. All societies have creation myths. Canada and the Canadian Armed Forces in particular are lucky to have one so creditable as Vimy Ridge.
There comes a point though when I can't stomach another Marxist/Gramscian critique of Western Society - the argument remains the same, only the details change. There is only so much mean spiritness and resentment that one can stand before it starts to infect your soul. Your description reminds me of my recent visit to the National Army Museum in London, which was recently re-designed. Most of the artifacts were gone and what was left was a thematic presentation (with very little chronology) that left one in no doubt that the author thought armies were a bad idea and should best be done away with. The historical interpretation was often questionable at best and deliberately misleading at worst. I was put in mind of Orwell's smug pacifists who know that they can abjure violence because others must practice it on their behalf.
While no creation story is as simple or as clean as it is made out to be, there is much to be proud of CAFs record. I think the best response to McKay & Swift's critique is to do your duty fully and with a glad heart.
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