ULU were right to ban officials from remembrance day ceremonies

stephen_gunby via flickr.com

There's one image that remains prevalent from the now 'infamous' student riots of 2011.  
Charlie Gilmour, a Cambridge history undergraduate was snapped swinging from the Cenotaph-an act deemed of such disrespect that he was given a jail sentence of 16 months. Yet the message that the photograph conveyed was not simply a student's disregard for 'the glorious dead', but rather the underlining irreverence that student unions supposedly harbour toward Britain's military history.
 
The news that University of London Union (ULU) senate have voted to ban any staff attending remembrance day in their 'official capacity' has brought this sentiment up once more. Already, members of the Twitterati have resurrected Mcarthyist claims of universities controlled by Marxists. Even London MP Stella Creasy has got involved in the issue, tweeting: “As a former student, this decision by ULU to ban officers from participating in Remembrance Sunday makes me ashamed.”

Firstly, its important to note that the tweet significantly misrepresents the actuality of the situation; Officers of the ULU are allowed to attend ceremonies as individuals, but not in their official roles. Certainly, this is far from a blanket ban, never mind an exertion of hostility toward the armed forces. With that in mind, we should really be focusing on actual issue- whether it was right for ULU to ban any official representation. 

By and large, I feel that ULU got it right. 

As one of the largest unions in the country representing over 120,000 students, ULU has a unique pressure to reflect the vicarious diversity of its organisation. With that remit comes responsibilities, especially in decisions that assume collective representation. For the most part, such actions are implemented when the welfare or rights of students are under direct threat, a principle that forms the framework of the controversial 'No Platform' policy, as well as other initiatives designed to represent minority groups such as LGBT networks. In such situations, unions like ULU are justified in taking stances, particularly as they are bound to them by constitutional mandates and democratic accountability.

The obligation of collective representation cannot be said about events like remembrance day, especially if we are to accept ULU's duty as a democratically elected body. After all, considering the diversity of opinion surrounding war, the armed forces and memorialising across the country, should ULU be taking a stance in ample disregard of important- albeit smaller- clusters of student opinion? And if this is a valid precedent, then would we similarly support ULU if it claimed to represent its entire student body on national issues relating to Royal ceremonies, or the death of former Prime Ministers?
 
Here lies the real dilemma: While it's all well and good for self-aggrandised 'patriots' tacitly telling students that they should be forced to participate, collective representation actually dilutes the value of commemoration itself. Whether one chooses to commemorate in an official ceremony, a secular gathering or to abstain, acknowledging history should be left as an individual enterprise, instead of a predetermined action. If ULU president Michael Chessum wants to commemorate this weekend by “fighting for peace and challenging the policies of governments” he has every right to do so, in the same way that others can attend a memorial service, observe a two minute silence or not do anything at all.

Why ULU's decision- which strikes me as refreshingly democratic, has come under such intense scrutiny is quite confusing. Far from all the sensationalism and rhetoric, the vote conveys enacts the principle that no union staff member has the right to represent London's entire student body on issues where there are clear divides of opinion across the spectrum. In that case we should see ULU's decision not as deliberate way to antagonise, but rather a positive step forward in allowing students to choose how they remember the nation's darkest moments.