Endgame, p.37
Endgame, page 37
An almost forgotten tidepool of history, the Festival’s legacy rests in how it successfully promoted a new and positive vision for a modern Britain while the country was still recovering from war. It put a benign face on modernity and change. And also, a royal one. Strangely enough, an antique horse-drawn landau en route to St. Paul’s Cathedral is now an indelible image from a festival that celebrated the possibilities of the future. The royal family and the institution once again made looking back an essential component of the national mechanism for looking forward.
Just a few years later, the institution used this royal cunning to officially repackage the dead empire as a new, vital Commonwealth of Nations, and enlisted the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth II for the task. In her 1953 Christmas Day broadcast, she strategically connected her nascent reign with the Elizabethan Age and the accomplishments of her “Tudor forbear,” to assert that “from the Empire of which they built the frame, there has arisen a worldwide fellowship of nations of a type never seen before.” Using grandiose abstractions, she sold the idea of the Commonwealth as “an entirely new conception—built on the highest qualities of the spirit of man: friendship, loyalty, and the desire for freedom and peace.”
The institutional spin continued as Her Majesty repeated that “the Commonwealth is moving steadily towards greater harmony between its many creeds, colours and races despite the imperfections by which, like every human institution, it is beset.” She added her signature touches of commitment to duty, declaring: “To that new conception of an equal partnership of nations and races I shall give myself heart and soul every day of my life.”
This is quite a bill of goods. The remnants of empire—damaged and forever-stained with colonial boot scuffs—reissued as equal partners in the pursuit of brotherly love and common good. The rapacious takeovers glossed over as institutional imperfections. And the state power and ancestral privilege of the Crown repurposed as a living bond between a sovereign and Commonwealth citizens who are no longer subjects. Rather than a token of colonial power, the Crown was repositioned as a symbol of stability and continuance, even as it shape-shifted to assume its diminished position in the new Commonwealth of Nations. All this in one broadcast by a young monarch prepared to tell the world that while empires are swept away, the Crown remains.
Part of the Queen’s new mission as head of state was to redecorate decolonization and postwar decline in shades of unified purpose and modernity—to normalize the essential theatrics required to conjure up Britain as a leader of this new “worldwide fellowship” while softening the blow of the nation’s waning power. Times may be changing, but the British royal family can still convene and lead. This was the messaging, and it was crafty, but it was also disingenuous. The monarchy and the British government knew all along that many of these former colonies and territories would eventually “graduate” and mature into independence and a life beyond the mother country’s shadow. This illusion of a leading nation was necessary to secure a place for the United Kingdom at the table of global power, even if it meant projecting itself as a soft unifier interested in the “spirit of man” while other superpowers like the United States and the former Soviet Union ferociously employed hard power to build military might and gain control of world economies.
In many ways, the British monarchy with Queen Elizabeth II at its helm continually accomplished this unifying the Commonwealth task for decades, incrementally changing the Crown’s image, through soft power and image maintenance just enough to remain visible and relevant (the Queen’s famous quote “I have to be seen to be believed” is applicable here). Elizabeth II and the institution charged up the Victorian royal machine when necessary—employing royal choreography and elevating, even manufacturing, tradition with all its national costume to validate the monarchy for the modern world. That whole looking-back-to-look-forward trick, what Tom Nairn called “cultivated anachronism.” Fanfare and royal enchantment go a long way in selling the idea that Britain still heavily influences and leads the Commonwealth. The presentation of a pearled sword must mean something. Why else would they still do it?
But what exactly is this global fellowship? Members have changed over the years, but the current Commonwealth of Nations, known as the British Commonwealth until 1949, is a voluntary association of fifty-six independent member countries, many of which are former British colonies or territories like Trinidad and Tobago, Ghana, and Sri Lanka. This is different from the Commonwealth Realms, which refers to the fourteen sovereign states that have the British monarch as their official head of state, including Canada, New Zealand, Jamaica, and Australia. The Commonwealth of Nations includes the Commonwealth Realms, but a majority of the countries in the Commonwealth of Nations do not have the British monarch as their head of state. It’s a lot to keep straight.
Hardly a multination partnership of shared interests, cultural understanding, and mutual respect, the Commonwealth of Nations is more a loose confederation of countries with current or former ties to Britain. Some are stronger than others and, for years, the strength of the ties between the mother country and the realms has given the entire Commonwealth an illusory glow of health and vague connection. But, toward the end of the Queen’s reign and particularly after her death, even the appearance of strength started to vanish. In the case of Barbados, the country’s graduation day came just over nine months before the Queen’s death. After 396 years, the sun finally set on the royal family’s reign over the Caribbean island in November 2021, with a handover ceremony attended by Charles, who watched in silence as the royal standard flag representing the Queen was lowered to cheers in Heroes Square in Bridgetown. Out of respect for Queen Elizabeth II, Jamaica put their republican ambitions on hold while she was alive, but, ahead of Charles’s coronation, it was announced that a referendum would be held in 2024 and would possibly see the country become a republic, complete with an elected president, before the year is out.
More worryingly for the monarchy, the growing republican movement in Australia—a Commonwealth realm known for its long commitment to the Crown—found new energy after the Queen’s passing. Just five hours after her death, the Australian Green Party leader Adam Bandt weighed in on Twitter: “Our thoughts and prayers are with the family and all who loved her. Now Australia must move forward. We need Treaty with First Nation peoples, and we need to become a republic.” Many found the tweet insensitively timed and disrespectful. Even the Australian prime minister, Anthony Albanese, obliquely admonished Bandt for his timing. But Albanese, too, is a devoted republican, and in May 2022 he appointed an assistant minister to his administration whose primary role is to hasten the process for the country to hold a referendum to become a republic. And in the summer of 2023, it was announced that the country would no longer host the Commonwealth Games, a major sporting event always supported by the royal family, because they do not represent “value for money” anymore.
Bandt might have been an outlier in his seeming disrespect for Queen Elizabeth II, but when it comes to King Charles, it seems he is just another voice in a growing choir. In a February 2023 decision that indicates the referendum may come sooner rather than later, Australia’s central reserve bank—with consultation from the nation’s current center-left Labour government—decided to remove the face of the British sovereign from their five-dollar bill. Aussie fivers were the only remaining banknote featuring an image of the Queen (which will still remain in circulation), but new ones issued will not display the new monarch. The new banknote will feature an indigenous design, something that honors “the culture and history of the first Australians.” Charles has been relegated to coins only. Treasurer Jim Chalmers said, “The $5 note will say more about our history and our heritage and our country, and I see that as a good thing.” One can hardly argue with that. And it’s both a sign of the times and more evidence that King Charles just doesn’t command the same level of admiration as his mother. There’s a “why wait now” feeling to all these republican impulses—the Queen is gone, so what’s the holdup?
Republicans closer to the Crown’s home turf are also asking this same question. The Scottish independence movement may have hit a roadblock when Scottish National Party (SNP) leader Nicola Sturgeon resigned amid controversy in March 2023, but their historic push for independence is not going away. Fifteen years ago, the Scottish National Party was considered a mostly unimportant rabble of semi-radicals, but, as of early 2023, the party now holds forty-eight of the country’s fifty-nine parliamentary seats in Westminster. Around 45 percent of Scottish voters do not want England to govern their country, and a vast majority of younger Scots are in favor of breaking away from English rule. New SNP leader Humza Yousaf says it’s not a case of if, but when an independent Scotland should decide on their future with the royal family. “It’s not an immediate priority, I accept that,” he said. “But let’s absolutely within the first five years [of independence] consider whether or not we should move away from having a monarchy into an elected head of state.” It’s a future the late Queen once publicly opposed, taking a rare step into the political arena. Ahead of Scotland’s 2014 independence referendum (which saw 55 percent of the country vote in favor of remaining part of the United Kingdom), she expressed hope that voters will “think very carefully about the future.” It was later revealed that a panicked Prime Minister David Cameron had asked the monarch to make the public intervention.
A driving force behind the current Scottish independence movement is a desire to return to the European Union. If the Scots do vote for independence, Scotland will immediately apply to rejoin the EU. This says quite a lot about the fallout from Brexit, which came into effect in January 2020. Triggered by anti-establishment populism and anti-immigration sentiment, and sold as a return to the traditional, bygone days of ye olde British glory, Brexit further isolated Britain, hastening its decline in the global arena and at home. The numbers bear this out. Just a quick example: if the United Kingdom’s gross domestic product (GDP) continues on its current path of an average decline of 0.5 percent annually as it has from 2010 to 2021, the British economy will fall behind many of its European neighbors, including Poland by 2030 and Romania and Hungary by 2040. There is a fear, particularly from those in the left-leaning parties, that a failing economy will lead to a mass exodus of young people, what Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer calls a “brain drain—not just to London and Edinburgh, but to Lyon, Munich, and Warsaw—that’s not the future our country deserves.” It must be said that the unanticipated disruption of the Covid pandemic and the global economic destabilization that accompanied it also greatly impacted Britain’s economy like it did elsewhere around the world. One wonders, however, whether a continued British partnership with other countries in the European Union might have minimized the spiritual and economic aftereffects of the twenty-first century’s first global plague.
This is what King Charles and the royal institution are facing: a shrinking Commonwealth, a retreating world presence, and a weakening economy at home. And because the royal family has so deftly—and expediently in recent years—merged itself with national identity and the “Land of Hope and Glory” instincts, when the nation’s status wanes, so, too, does theirs. Queen Elizabeth II, with her physical and emotional endurance and exalted commitment to the Crown, provided a decorative and protective veil from this troubling codependency between national stability and monarchical relevance, but in the early days of the Carolean era, the veil has fallen away.
Keeping the ship afloat during these anxious times is mission number one for King Charles. He long ago reconciled himself to the fact that maintaining a smaller monarchy and streamlining the institution behind it are essential to its survival. His steps to “slim down” the family business, a dream he harbored long before becoming King, are now supposedly in full motion. Under Charles’s plans, a leaner lineup of seven royals (himself, Camilla, William, Kate, Anne, Edward, and Sophie) will represent the Crown on a working level. When every other institution and major governmental body is under pressure to cut costs, it’s a smart move. Whether it’s fully realized is another thing altogether. So far there have been few signs from Buckingham Palace that the royal family will cost the British taxpayer less money anytime soon, and a look at the Court Circular (the official record of past royal engagements) shows that the lesser-known Duke and Duchess of Kent, Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, and Princess Alexandra have all been carrying out dozens of official engagements since Charles took charge.
Charles’s efforts also include cutting back on the number of family members benefiting from reduced-rate rents at royal residences. With the Sussexes having officially handed back the keys to Frogmore Cottage in June 2023 and Prince Andrew under pressure to downsize, the King is also working with aides to open the likes of Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, and Balmoral to the public for longer periods around the year to generate more income. If executed, it’s an operational change that could shave millions off the amount the family pulls from the public purse to fund the Firm. Instead of using Buckingham Palace—which is being renovated with Sovereign Grant funding of £396 million over ten years—as an official royal residence, Charles has chosen to stick with the nearby Clarence House as his London base. “There’s a strong chance we will see BP turn into an all-year-round tourist attraction,” said a senior aide.
During the first two years of his reign, we’re unlikely to see further drastic changes, but sources close to King Charles say there will be more in the future. At least on paper, the new King appears to have accepted that, as the monarchy’s importance at home and abroad continues to diminish, survival will largely be down to appearing as a more cost-effective, domestic-focused operation. Polls often reveal that a majority of the British public do not consider themselves royalists, nor do they enthusiastically support the monarchy, but most leave it at that—viewing the family as a harmless institution that makes Britain unique and one that doesn’t present any glaringly definitive reasons to get rid of it. Royal Family, Inc., relies on this apathy and sources say King Charles, CEO, knows some belt-tightening is the key to remaining mostly unchallenged. What he wasn’t counting on, though, was the increasing number of republicans at home who want to abolish the monarchy altogether—sooner rather than later.
Up until now, the British republican movement has mostly remained on the fringe with those calling for the end of the monarchy viewed as radicals or busybody academics with too much time on their hands. But this is starting to change. Since 2018, the royal family’s popularity has been on the slide. At the same time, the numbers of those beginning to see the rationale for doing away with the royal system are rising. This group consists of both hardcore anti-monarchists and those who just don’t see the point anymore, particularly after the Queen’s death. Since then, protestors (albeit far outnumbered by royal well-wishers) have started to become a regular sight at royal engagements. Signs and banners reading “NOT MY KING” are now a familiar sight on walkabouts. Recent polls show overall abolition support from an average of one in four Britons (up from just less than 20 percent a few years ago), while the number of people who say the monarchy is “very important” for the country fell to 29 percent, from 38 percent in 2022. Individually, King Charles III has an average approval rating of 54 percent, well below that of his late mother, 76 percent, and William, at 64 percent. In 2023, outright support for the monarchy fell to 55 percent (down from 75 percent in 2012, the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Year and the peak of Cambridge mania). Generationally, the differences are huge—79 percent of over-sixty-fives in Britain back the Crown, while just 36 percent of eighteen-to-twenty-four-year-olds want it to continue. That point will no doubt be of concern to the royal institution, who are already aware that when older swathes of royalists die out, they will be replaced with more critical voices.
Since Charles’s ascension, the British republican advocacy group, Republic, has stepped up its efforts to disestablish the royal institution—and the movement is growing. Hardly a “firebrand,” its CEO, Graham Smith, takes a constitutional, nuts-and-bolts perspective to where Britain would go without a royal head of state. The author of Abolish the Monarchy: Why We Should and How We Will describes it as all “relatively straightforward” because “no one is suggesting [that Britain moves] to a U.S.- or French-style constitution. It’s about moving to a parliamentary democracy.” He describes a future where both houses of Parliament are filled with elected representatives, with a prime minister serving in the lower house. This system would also include a non-political head of state, who is elected by the people, but ultimately has very limited powers. Countries all across Europe already have this structure, including Germany, Ireland, Iceland, Finland, and many of the Baltic states. Anna Whitelock, a British historian and professor of the history of monarchy at City, University of London, predicts a similar fate. “By 2030 there will be definite louder clamors for the eradication of the monarchy,” she has said. “The monarchy—its purpose, what it’s about, will be questioned and challenged in a way that it hasn’t been before.”
Just five years ago, the thought of the Windsors becoming equal citizens without privileged status seemed unreal to most, but now that future doesn’t seem as far-fetched. Harry and Meghan have already fled to real life, and, by the looks of it, they’re not hurting for either money or status. More importantly, for Britain as a country, Smith thinks establishing a republic would be a moment of profound pride for the nation: “We would actually feel very proud of ourselves for doing it and for embracing democracy and ridding ourselves of these institutions. I hope we [will also] be a beacon to other countries.”
