The way Britain remembers its fallen soldiers is once again making them "heroes" rather than lamenting the brutality of war, Shirley Williams has told New Humanist.
"Soldiers are nowadays routinely described as 'heroes', as distinct from people who are engaged in a pretty rough profession," she says.
"In the 1970s, maybe the 1960s, you'd have got a rather more regretful attitude."
Williams has just entered her office in the House of Lords. It's the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month - a time when the entire nation is supposed to pause and remember those who gave their lives for the democracy we now enjoy.
Yet the motives of the First World remain as hard to grapple with as they were at the time. Williams's mother Vera Brittain's book Testament Of Youth is an emotionally powerful memoir which sets out the brutality of the conflict and the consequences on her life.
"The Wilfred Owen tradition," Williams says, has been downplayed in Britain in recent decades. She says the governments of Harold Wilson and Edward Heath and James Callaghan tried to underline the importance of "putting war behind one" and "the sorrow of war".
That has now changed, she suggests. "It's gone back to being a good deal more militarily-based. Funnily enough, I think the effect of our involvement in so many wars in the last few years has been to go back to somewhere between the heroic tradition and the tradition of grief."
Britain is now a place where the soldier's role is firmly established. Politicians have worked hard to reinforce the military covenant between the armed services and those they serve. This year's Armed Forces Day saw events across the country celebrate the role the military plays. Now it is Armistice Day once more - and, Williams claims, the tone of remembrance is shifting once again.
The problem, she argues, is the English Channel. That natural defensive barrier has helped resist continental invaders ever since 1066. "We have a distinctive tradition of not being defeated, which is not because we're not such a brilliantly military power but because of geography," Williams says. It's another reason why Britain has more in common with the United States than with the rest of Europe.
"We tend to kid ourselves that that's because we're such a splendid military nation, but frankly what really matters most is the Channel," she adds. The European nations have all experienced the terrible consequences of being defeated in battle and occupied in war. Britain has avoided that, and Williams thinks it affects the way we view ourselves. "All of that gives us a slightly rosy view of warfare," she says. "That's a funny thing to say, but [it means] we don't have that feeling of utter disgust with it."
This trend in Remembrance Day services is not so strong it is likely to survive the onset of the commemorations marking the First World War's centenary, which begin next year. "The music and poetry will come to the front again," Williams insists.
Whether it diminishes the zeal with which the UK applauds its present military is another matter. "The pacifist's task today is to find a method of helping and healing which provides a revolutionary constructive substitute for war," Brittain wrote. That her daughter's comments may provoke anger and outrage in some quarters is testament to the fact that the UK remains, after all these years, a very military nation.
