Norman Davies

Fifty years would seem to be time enough to prepare a definitive history of the Second World War. In an age of instant data-gathering, one might think that the historians could have arrived at a consensus for interpreting the main events of the war. In reality, no such consensus exists.

Young people have to learn in a cocoon filled with false optimism. Unlike their parents and grandparents, they grow up with very little sense of the pitiless passage of time.

The idea that historians write the definitive version of something that will last for all time is less current than it used to be.

I wanted to produce a book that would demonstrate not only the rich diversity of people who answered to Anders's command but also the extraordinary variety of their experiences and emotions: from death to despair, fear and longings and eventually to hope.

I find myself sick to death, tired of arguing about details with people who don't know basic facts.

Winners of wars get a standing start in the post-war stakes of remembrance.

In the long run, Europe will certainly move toward unification. But it will be a process of push and pull, and there will be resistance.

None of Europe's modern nations are genuinely native.

The question is whether a confident Europe will be a rival for North America - or whether they will work together and become a more unified bloc.

The 'politics of memory' policy appears to work largely by insinuation.

One might have thought that 70 years was time enough to work out what really happened in 1939. It isn't the case. Misunderstandings and misinformation abound.

Northern Ireland must, in future, be absorbed into the Irish republic. Wales and Scotland must advance from devolution to full independent status. The four nations of these islands must commit themselves absolutely to the project of a United Europe.