ON THE letters pages of this newspaper, there has recently been a debate about the morality of the Allied air raids that destroyed the German city of Dresden 70 years ago. Without going into the personalities, there are two divided camps.

In the first you will find various familiar characters who over the years have sprung to the defence of the raids. These letter writers habitually insist on the bravery of Bomber Command and decry the way the crews were ignored after the war, partly, it is said, because Churchill was uncomfortable about the loss of civilian lives.

In the opposite camp, you will find a letter writer who views life through a different lens. This correspondent last week attacked the raids and made bold parallels with modern terrorism.

This debate is interesting on a number of levels, not least what it says about history.

First, let's confront the angry nub of the matter. Were the raids morally wrong in that they destroyed a city and killed 25,000 civilians relatively close to what proved to be the end of the war?

Recently, The Guardian newspaper carried a report mostly given over to the memories of German man who had been a boy of 12 during the air raids. Eberhard Renner, who grew up to be an architect, said everybody who lived in Dresden thought the city was invincible.

"Only when the bombs started falling did we realise it was Dresden's turn," he said. "First they dropped the explosive bombs to expose the roofs. Then came the incendiary bombs to do the real damage – a well-worked-out English strategy."

In a long account, Renner made two telling points. One was that "without a doubt Hitler was to blame for the bombings"; and the other was this: "But I'll always have to ask the question whether it was necessary to kill 25,000 civilians."

On recalling such death and destruction, it is possible to wonder if we were as bad as the other side; or it is until you think a little harder. The problem lies, it is perhaps fair to say, in applying modern standards to something that happened in the middle of a war 70 years ago.

If you consider in isolation what our pilots did, their actions seem terrible. But atrocities happen in wars; that's how war operates. Terrible things are done in all directions, until one side is defeated. It's one reason why mankind should try to avoid war.

The different parties on our letters page are united in ways they probably don't imagine: not in their views, of course, but in their certainty that history is on their side. But what is history? That question is among many tackled by AC Grayling in his book The Meaning Of Things: Applying Philosophy To Life.

Now this isn't the sort of book you read from cover to cover, but dipping in offers a break from all those crime novels. Grayling asks too many pertinent questions to repeat in full here (you might be glad to learn), but this is a good one: "If history is different narratives constructed in the present, is it any wonder that historians disagree among themselves?"

He also asks if history is "an art that creates, or a science that discovers", and wonders if history is in the end subjective because "the historian himself is always present in its construction". In passing, Grayling quotes the American writer James Baldwin's nice observation: "People are trapped in history, and history is trapped in them."

As for our letter writers, they all know they are right, and their debate is a small example of history being thrashed out, isn't it?

ALARMING news: I have two things in common with Ukip leader Nigel Farage, both discovered last Sunday.

On BBC Radio 4's Broadcasting House, in answer to a leading question, Mr Farage agreed that Labour leader Ed Miliband faced unreasonably hostile coverage in most national newspapers, which is true, whatever you think of Miliband.

Later on Top Gear (sorry, I just can't help myself) a survey of what cars the party leaders drive revealed that Mr Farage sits behind the wheel of a Volvo V70. I fancy that his model probably isn't as ancient as mine, what with all those Euro-expenses, but we do both favour the same Swede. Hopefully, that's where the similarity ends.