- 7 May 2025
- Editorial
Commemorating the future
Luuk van Middelaar
In the week marking the eightieth anniversary of the end of the Second World War in Europe, we find ourselves disoriented by the dramatic changes afoot. The past appears certain but what will the future hold? In the lives of political communities, as in those of individuals, acts of remembrance structure the experience of time. They help to make sense of its passage, turning a random succession of events into a narrative, into a shared story.
This year’s anniversary will perhaps be the last grand salute to the survivors and heroes of the 1939–45 war, the dwindling generation of men and women who fought and acted to preserve Europe’s liberty and dignity in the face of Nazism. Commemorations thus bind a community, foster collective memory and offer inspiration to later generations. They can also serve to legitimize those in power today. The Victory Day parade in Moscow – about which Karl Schlögel provides striking insights in his essay for BIG – offers a stark example of this approach, as President Putin employs the narrative of the Soviet defeat of Hitler to justify his brutal war in Ukraine.
Political anniversaries do more than return the past to the present, they also provide a theatre for action today, for quiet diplomacy or the orchestration of personal chemistry. Not unlike the occasion of Pope Francis’s funeral in Rome, which allowed for a hastily planned tête-à-tête between President Trump and President Zelenskyy that helped heal the rift created during their disastrous Oval Office encounter eight weeks earlier.
Commemorations offer recurrent, planned encounters that can be used even more strategically. For instance, France’s ‘D-Day diplomacy’ has become a staple of its soft power, bringing together global leaders to reflect on a shared past while subtly reinforcing transatlantic bonds. At the 70th anniversary of the Normandy landings in June 2014, just three months into Russia’s annexation of Crimea, the event resulted in a first impromptu meeting on the beach between the Ukrainian and Russian presidents, Poroshenko and Putin, together with Federal Chancellor Merkel and the French host, François Hollande. The ‘Normandy format’ was born, the ultimately unsuccessful diplomatic constellation aimed at preserving the stability of the European continent, which was shattered in 2022 by Putin’s invasion.
In reflecting on Europe’s fate as a continent between war and peace, it is crucial to do so with an eye to the future. In uncertain times there is a temptation to wallow in nostalgia, to long for supposedly simpler days, or to capitulate and retreat from public life altogether. So this week’s commemorations should be as much about looking forward as they are about looking back. Our story is not over yet; we shape the future ourselves: this is their core message and the point of them.
The great French historian Marc Bloch, shot in 1944 by the Gestapo, spoke of ‘solidarity of the ages’. This, he said, was so effective that ‘the lines of connection work both ways. Misunderstanding of the present is the inevitable consequence of ignorance of the past. But a man may wear himself out just as fruitlessly in seeking to understand the past, if he is totally ignorant of the present.’1 The events and developments taking place before our eyes shape the future and may change history.
In this respect, the other event celebrated this week, the 75th anniversary of the Schuman Declaration, holds a powerful message. Admittedly, the European Union’s founding moment is above all remembered for opening the path to reconciliation, peace and friendship among Europe’s formerly warring nations, not least France and Germany. However, perhaps more importantly, the political act of 9 May 1950 reminds us of something basic: the possibility of a new beginning. We can end the doom cycle and chart a new course. On ‘Europe Day’ we celebrate the fact that history is still open, as it was then.
In a firm act of temporal staging, Poland and France have chosen this 9 May as the day on which to sign a Treaty of Friendship; Prime Minister Tusk and President Macron will meet in Nancy, the capital of Lorraine, which was once governed by Duke Stanislas, a former Polish king. For Paris, this agreement is one of a series of treaties with European neighbours following the famous 1963 Franco-German Friendship Treaty signed by De Gaulle and Adenauer. For Warsaw, it reaffirms the bond with an old ally, somewhat neglected by both sides of late, at a time of continental upheaval. By signing it on Europe Day, in the shadow of Moscow’s Victory Day parade, both nations are seizing the narrative for their public and the world, proclaiming that we reject the fate of war, that we will continue to build a united and democratic Europe.
Notes
1 Marc Bloch, Apologie pour l’histoire ou métier d’historien, Paris, 1952, p. 13.↩
About the author
Luuk van Middelaar, a historian and political theorist, heads the Brussels Institute for Geopolitics. His recent publications include Alarums & Excursions: Improvising politics on the European stage, Agenda Publishing, Newcastle upon Tyne 2019.