I may owe some of you an apology.
My essay yesterday (and some of the comments here and on Facebook) may have given the impression that I believe holding Remembrance Day services in countries other than Canada or the United States is somehow inappropriate (an affair to remember). I do not.
I practiced law in a community where a large portion of the residents were of Mexican descent. Our Salvation Army statistics pegged the number between 19 and 22% when other Latinos were sorted out. So, I am accustomed to people from other countries celebrating their national days in other countries. And I usually participate myself.
There is no doubt that celebrations like Remembrance Day and Veterans' Day carry political baggage -- especially celebrated in a country like Mexico which has been the target of economic and military adventurism by the United States, Canada, Britain, France, and a bevy of European countries.
That is why I always feel a little uncomfortable about public displays of foreign patriotism in Mexico. And it is not only because the singing of foreign national anthems and displaying foreign flags in Mexico is forbidden in most circumstances.
Last year I asked a young Mexican lawyer to assist me in researching the law on foreign anthems and flags. He wasn't even aware such a thing existed.
We quickly found out there are more laws and regulations concerning them than we could imagine. Just as an aside, we also discovered that almost every Mexican flag in town does not comply with the law.
I am particularly sensitive to flags and anthems. When I was very young, flags fascinated me. About the sixth grade, anthems were added to the list.
In the early 1970s, I was stationed on a Greek Air Force base. The American contingent was small. The flagpoles in front of our little headquarters building was directly outside the window of my bachelor officers quarters. Each night I watched the American security police lower first the Greek flag and then the American flag.
In full honors. With one exception. It could have been a scene from a silent movie. In The States, retreat is always accompanied by the national anthem.
Without asking anyone, one evening, I put a record of national anthems on my turntable and waited for the honor guard to start lowering the Greek flag. When they did, I cued up the Greek national anthem.
That startled the young flag team. But they recovered. I then played The Star-Spangled Banner as the American flag was lowered. The head of the team turned, smiled, and saluted me at my window.
What I did not know is that I had just caused an international diplomatic brouhaha. The detachment commander had me in his office within the hour.
Greece had just gone through another coup attempt months before. This time, officers sympathetic to the deposed Greek king had attempted to topple the Army junta then in control of the government. The Greek Air Force had chosen unwisely by siding with the king. I had watched both the Greek commander and deputy commander of the Greek Air Base being taken away by the Army -- and they were never seen again.
Because the United States had remained neutral in the coup, the Greek Army was very suspicious of our presence.
All relations between the United States and countries where its military forces are stationed are governed through Status of Forces Agreements (SOFA). You may recall it was the inability to arrive at an agreeable SOFA with Iraq during the Obama administration that led to the precipitous withdrawal of American troops.
The SOFA with Greece did not cover the playing of national anthems. And with the Greek Air Force in the doghouse with the Army, neither Greek nor American commanders would take the risk of approving something as sensitive as national anthems.
But the new Greek commander was a brave soul. He requested permission from the Army, and it was granted. I returned to my duties as an anthem disc jockey.
That is a primary reason I am sensitive to how our Mexican hosts may react to playing music that bears multiple meanings. Last year, I watched a Mexican couple at Rooster's look as if they were physically in pain while the rest of us sang our respective anthems.
They could have been offended by the thought we were celebrating military adventures that had caused Mexico to suffer. Or maybe they were annoyed at having their peaceful breakfast disturbed by our rowdy lot. I do not eliminate the possibility that they were music lovers whose ears were being challenged.
I don;t know what was in their mind, but their faces have haunted me for a year. After the conversations we shared yesterday, I stopped short when I entered the restaurant this morning. The place was packed with Canadians and Americans. But right up front were two Mexican families eating breakfast, with a third in the back. I was positive I was going to re-live last year.
I was wrong. And a lot of that credit goes to Gary, the owner of Rooster's, who emceed the service. Last night, the two of us discussed some of the issues raised by the anthems. But, rather than eliminate them, he had a plan.
He told everyone what the order of service would be. A moment of silence. My reading of "In Flanders Fields." And then the singing of the national anthems of Mexico, Canada, and the United States.
In the past, the Mexican anthem was last. That struck Gary as wrong. If was to be sung, it should be first because we are in Mexico. I was not certain that alone would do the trick.
But Gary had more in mind. He explained what was being honored that day. Not military adventurism, but the individual citizens who had fought and died for their countries. He did a marvelous job of creating a common field of interest amongst the three nationalities represented.
The Mexican families sang their anthem with gusto, and stood in respect while Americans and Canadians did what we always do with our anthems -- sing sincerely with a bit of minor keys where major are called for.
After the service, two of the Mexican families had a long conversation with Gary and his wife, Joyce. And the inevitable seal of approval was stamped with a series of selfies.
The only thing I would have added to Gary's introduction (and, in fairness to him, I thought of it only after we were doing our post mortem) would have been references to Mexico's days of honor..
Even though Mexico does not have an equivalent of Remembrance Day, it celebrates several days honoring those who have fallen on behalf of Mexico. Mexican Army Day. Independence Day. Revolution Day. Heroic Defense of Veracruz Day. Cinco de Mayo. National Maritime Day. Boy Heroes Day. Mexican Navy Day.
The Mexican families present at today's service understood what we were celebrating. The same concepts they celebrate in honoring their dead. Whether in pride or in mourning, every nation can appreciate the honor.
But what is it that causes some of us to be so uneasy about national anthems performed within the borders of another country. I felt that same way at a Democrats Abroad Fourth of July party in San Miguel de Allende.
And then it occurred to me. Some moments are perfectly encapsulated in film. In Casablanca, in their desire to extend German authority to Morocco during World War Two, a group of German officers sing Horst Wessel at Rick's Club. On nominally-Free French soil. The mainly French audience sits quietly seething in rage.
That is what I envision the critics of national anthems sung on foreign soil are thinking. The worst possible version of nationalism.
But Julius and Philip Epstein and Howard Koch had the answer. Rather than let the French sit silently in despair, Victor Laszlo leads them in a rousing chorus of La Marseillaise. It is a great moment in cinema.
That is the way I like to remember this day. With people of three nations sharing a common, almost-Roman concept of self-sacrifice. For one moment, no one was talking about which nation is greater -- or even if any of them are. We shared the virtue of honor and the pain of loss.
Do I still have qualms about singing my national anthem in Mexico? Sure, I do. I cannot erase my own experiences. It will always make me uncomfortable.
What I do know is that today was one of the more gratifying days of my life.
And, if I have offended any of you in those beliefs, I do apologize.
You can pray for me.
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