Honoring the fallen is not about glorifying war, but about dignifying the sacrifice for peace and building a more just and humane national memory.
“Show me the manner in which a nation cares for its dead and I will measure with mathematical exactness the tender mercies of its people, their respect for the laws of the land, and their loyalty to high ideals.”
William Ewart Gladstone
Every year, the United States comes to a halt on the last Monday of May to honor its fallen soldiers on Memorial Day. This is more than a tradition; it is a reminder of sacrifice, duty, and the profound link between a nation and its history. This practice, however, is not exclusive to the Anglo-Saxon world; it is part of the very history of humanity. In Mexico, by contrast, we still lack a day to remember—with dignity—our own who have fallen, especially in the daily struggle for security and peace.
The memory of the fallen throughout history
From ancient Greece to our present day, honoring those killed in combat has been a fundamental part of the social and political life of many nations and peoples. In Athens, the public funeral was a civic ritual that reminded all citizens of the valor of those who had died for the polis. This is demonstrated by historical accounts of public funeral rites for soldiers, such as the celebrated «Pericles’ Funeral Oration,» which established a civic canon: the fallen soldier was an example of virtue and dedication to the common good. In ancient Rome, inscriptions and triumphal arches immortalized the military glory of its heroes.
With the advent of modernity, the veneration of fallen soldiers transformed into state policy, giving rise to memorials, national cemeteries, and official dates of commemoration. The underlying reason is clear: remembering the fallen not only honors their sacrifice but also reinforces collective memory, national identity, and the moral fabric of the community.
Why do we commemorate those killed in combat?
Sociology and anthropology offer key insights into why natural societies, such as the family and the nation, pay homage to their dead—especially to those who virtuously and heroically give their lives in the service of their families, communities, and nations.
Émile Durkheim, the French sociologist and philosopher considered one of the founding fathers of sociology along with Karl Marx and Max Weber, explained that collective rituals like military funerals are essential for maintaining social cohesion. Maurice Halbwachs, a French philosopher and sociologist known for developing the concept of collective memory, described it as a process that gives meaning to the past from the perspective of the present. And Benedict Anderson, the renowned historian, political scientist, and essayist known for his work Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism, argued that nations are built through shared symbols—precisely like martyrs and, in secular states, heroes: the soldiers and police officers who have fallen in combat and are linked to the most sublime patriotic values.
Honoring the fallen, then, is not merely an act of piety or respect; we can affirm that it is a civilizing mechanism, a way of building the culture of a national community.
The case of the United States and its fallen
The American Memorial Day originated after the Civil War as a way to pay tribute to fallen soldiers by decorating their graves with flowers. The first national observance took place on May 30, 1868, at Arlington National Cemetery. Over time, the commemoration expanded to honor all U.S. military personnel who have died in service. It was not until 1971 that it was established as an official federal holiday, honoring more than one million who have fallen in various wars, from the First and Second World Wars to the more recent conflicts in the Middle East. It is, therefore, a date of solemnity, but also of national unity for that country.
For many years, I have been singularly struck by this American commemoration, especially with regard to the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), which maintains a Memorial Wall at its headquarters in Langley, Virginia, for its fallen agents. Each star represents an agent who died in the line of duty, many of whom remain anonymous for reasons of security and operational confidentiality. On that wall is the inscription: «In honor of those members of the Central Intelligence Agency who gave their lives in the service of their country.» The anonymity of many stars has not meant that these individuals are forgotten, but rather stands as a sign of respect for the quiet service of those agents and their families in protecting their country.
And what about Mexico? The offficial and social silence
In Mexico, we do not have an official day dedicated to the soldiers, marines, and police officers who have fallen in the line of duty. There are isolated tributes, military ceremonies, and moments of silence, but no national date for their public recognition and commemoration. This is true in a country where, since the beginning of the 21st century, more than six thousand security personnel have died confronting organized crime.
Why does this widespread custom not exist here? It seems necessary to question the reasons behind this, to confront them, rethink them, and modify our attitude toward a reality that, from my point of view, requires acknowledgment to begin forging a national consciousness about the heroism shown amid the tragic loss of Mexican citizens over nearly twenty years of fighting organized crime. Perhaps it is because our security institutions have suffered erosion, criticism, and in some cases, mistrust. Perhaps it is because the war we are living—even if it is not called such—has been fragmented, with grief that is private, not collective.
We are living in a different time in Mexico, the product of a new era that requires us to build civilization. I consider it essential that we begin to change our view of life and death in the conflicts we have faced—and continue to face. This is especially true for those who have virtuously chosen to live and give their lives for the peace, security, and defense of our homeland. This is not for the sake of militarism, but for historical justice, memory, and national identity.
Commemorating and honoring those who have given their lives to defend others is an act of civility. It compels us not to forget that the peace we Mexicans seek—the synthesis of a national aspiration cherished since our genesis as a nation—is sometimes built upon lives given in silence. Police officers in rural and urban municipalities, soldiers in marginalized regions and mountains, marines on dangerous coasts and seas, and investigative agents from various corporations who never returned home.
We need a memorial. We need a date that reminds us and revitalizes our longing for justice, peace, and security through the memory of those who often perish anonymously in the course of their daily duties to keep us safe. We need a narrative that recognizes the courage of those who die serving, regardless of whether they wear a military or police uniform.
A proposal: A National Day for Peace and the Fallen
I propose that we consider June 21st—the summer solstice, a symbol of light and renewal—as a possible National Day for Peace and the Fallen. It would be a day to honor those who fell while seeking a safer, more just, more livable, and peaceful Mexico. In keeping with the character of our history, memory, and national identity, this day would not be to glorify war, but to recognize the valor of those who chose to protect, serve, and defend the peace and security to which all Mexicans aspire.
Memory is not just about looking to the past; it is about choosing, from the present, what we want to be as a country. It is about commemorating and projecting our identity. Is it time to take that step?
What are your thoughts? Share this article if you believe Mexico should build a dignified memory for those who have given their lives in the struggle for peace.
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Jonathan Maza 