Editorial: A special day - as it should be

The outcry that greeted Peace Movement Aotearoa's running of a white poppy fundraiser a day before the annual RSA red poppy day street appeal told a tale of its own.

Ninety-five years after New Zealand and Australian troops went ashore on a rugged stretch of Turkish coastline, Anzac Day and everything associated with it occupies a revered place on this country's calendar.

Those who fail to acknowledge that do so at their peril.

It was not always so. Indeed, the anti-militarism at the heart of Peace Movement Aotearoa's campaign has previously run up against Anzac Day.

This occurred during the Vietnam War, when popular opinion was turning increasingly against New Zealand's involvement.

In some eyes, Anzac Day became a symbol of militarism.

The link was a complete distortion, and as inappropriate as Peace Movement Aotearoa's attempt to link its fund-raising to that of the Returned Services Association.

But it reflects a time when the remembrance of Anzac Day was not always treated with the thoughtfulness so evident today.

There was even a period after World War II when it was at risk of becoming almost an irrelevance. Some of the soldiers returning from that conflict wanted only to forget the horrors, while some veterans' children had heard rather too much.

Anzac Day commemorations came to bear the hallmark of civic duty, rather than occasions to revere the sacrifice and sense of duty of those who served in the Turkish campaign and other wars of the 20th century.

As the number of Gallipoli veterans diminished, it might have been expected that Anzac Day's hold would slip even further. The more so when the ranks of those who served in World War II also began to dwindle.

Generating interest when the whole notion of a worldwide conflagration must seem novel to today's young seems, on the surface, a difficult proposition. Yet as the years of peace have lengthened, the opposite of what might have been predicted has happened.

The reasons are doubtless complex. A heightened sense of pride in this country has generated a resurgence of interest in its history, especially the making of a shared New Zealandness.

There also appears to be a wish to reflect on and appreciate the sacrifices that were made so that succeeding generations were, for the most part, spared the terror of war. For many, that brings a spiritual element to the day, especially for those who travel to Gallipoli.

Occasionally, there are complaints that some who go to Anzac Cove do not treat the commemoration with due respect. The finger has been pointed mostly at Australians who, in recent years, have gone so far as to suggest a pop concert should be part of the proceedings.

New research by an AUT lecturer, Dr Ken Hyde, suggests, indeed, that the Australian visitors are more "up tempo" about the occasion than New Zealanders, who continue to think of Anzac Day as quite a solemn affair.

If so, it is unsurprising that the day may be evolving slightly differently in the eyes of young Australians. No more different than that the Australian troops at Gallipoli were seen by observers to have a brashness that bordered on foolhardiness in comparison to the more considered but no less courageous approach of this country's soldiers.

Each new generation will have its own take on Anzac Day. The children who march with the medals of their grandfathers and great-grandfathers will have a slightly different viewpoint to that of their parents.

But the factors that have driven the rejuvenation of interest and the response to Peace Movement Aotearoa's fundraiser suggest regard for the day is firmly implanted. As it should be.