Attacks on Rishi Sunak for cutting short his attendance at the D-day commemoration have been overblown. His early return home was a presentational error, but he had attended the relevant British ceremonies and is in the midst of an election campaign. The final day was a giant sound and light show with a photocall mostly for assorted heads of state rather than heads of government. No protocol necessitated Sunak’s presence. King Charles had already attended the appropriate commemoration. This was a clear case of using any brick to hurl at an unpopular politician in an election. Remembrance days always risk mixed messages. They are traditionally occasions for recalling, thanking and comforting those personally involved. D-day did not mark the end of the second world war, but it was a hugely significant event in its conduct. Nor was this, as is now so often said, the last time we could say thank you. The last first world war veterans survived until 2009. There will be enough to keep D-day, VE Day and the Battle of Britain in vox pops for some years to come. The ceremonial was spread over three days at exorbitant cost, presumably a dry run for next year’s 80th VE Day commemorations. Meanwhile, back in Britain, not a media opportunity was missed to exploit the event and for the defence lobby to draw parallels with Ukraine and demand higher spending on defence. Labour’s Keir Starmer has recklessly promised to increase it to 2.5% of GDP and renew the Trident nuclear deterrent. For his part, President Joe Biden recruited America’s wartime Rangers to his cause against Donald Trump’s isolationism. With Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskiy in attendance, he declared that American soldiers on D-day had seen the US as a “beacon to the world”. He added that those voices were asking us “to protect freedom in our time, to defend democracy, to stand up aggression abroad and at home”. The use of D-day to score points off Trump and shout defiance at Vladimir Putin was blatant. It flew in the face of the weakening attempt to contain the Ukraine conflict and to stop it escalating into a full-blown third world war. Drawing parallels between Putin and Hitler is the last thing the pursuit of peace needs just now. An obsession with reviving memories of the second world war is a feature of modern history. In Britain it jostles late-night television schedules and bestselling book lists. It fosters British exceptionalism, particularly against Germany. Above all, it supports the point of view that Britain has some obligation to engage in war to settle the troubles of the outside world. These interventions have led British troops to ignominy and the cause of harm in one 21st-century conflict after another. The truth is that wherever wars occur, their roots are often traceable to nations being encouraged to dwell on past grievances rather than leaving them alone. Memory is more often the cause of war than is its antidote. The current conflicts in both Ukraine and Gaza are consumed by divergent interpretations of the past. Acts of memorial should mostly be personal and dignified. They become distorted when hijacked by the state, dressed in the garb of patriotism and rendered unchallengeable. When, as today, they are harnessed to serve the cause of war – however just – they are politicised and therefore dangerous. Simon Jenkins is a Guardian columnist