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| Paul Cunningham/Corbis (via The Guardian) |
Some are desperate to get away, to France or America. Others deride the whole business as a sinister distraction from our real problems. And some even go so far as to mention the dreaded 'R' word - Republicanism.
For any of you who have no idea what is going on, all this blather is because this weekend in Britain is the Queen's Diamond Jubilee: the sixtieth anniversary of the beginning of her reign. The specialness of such an event may be undermined by last year's Royal Wedding, and by the Golden Jubilee of 2002, but it's still a big deal: Diamond Jubilees don't come along too often. In fact this is only the second in over a thousand years.
So yes, there is bunting and flags. This picture up on the left is of Regent Street in London. When I look at it, I don't see a crushing authoritarian state lacking in self-confidence, I see a party. That's what a jubilee is, it is a party.
There's a very good reason why the flags are not a problem, why celebrating the Jubilee is not a problem, why having a monarchy at all is not a problem: deep down we know that none of this really matters.
If you want to see crazy flag-waving, come to America. The British put up flags for special occasions (coronations, jubilees, weddings, World Cups), but Americans fly the Stars & Stripes permanently. Everywhere. And some of them are so big, an aircraft carrier could use them as a blanket. Each school flies a flag outside and every classroom inside has one as well. Car showrooms fly hundreds off them. Houses have them staked out on the front lawn. I've even seen cars flying flags, and I don't mean the Presidential limousine. When White Vans sport an England Flag for the football, we roll our eyes, but can you imagine someone driving around like that all the time?
It's a mania, a kind of hysteria that has become utterly normal. And it has to be that way because America is an artificial country, a pure idea and not a cultural accretion. Patriotism is essential here because it is the glue that forces all these disparate peoples to combine. That's why school children are made to take the daily Pledge of Allegiance: the idea of America has to be constantly reinforced lest it suddenly vanish.
The irony is that the idea of America is not under threat at all, even though the anxiety seems to have been hard-wired into the national psychology at birth. Whereas in Britain, where the dangers of Scottish independence actually might destroy a four hundred year old union, we don't tend to worry about such things. On some level or other we have no doubt about who we are.
That's not to say that the idea of Britishness is not a turbulent one. It changes, we argue over it, we even, sometimes, fight each other (or someone else) about it. But for a long time things have been settled and even if Scotland did run off, it is likely that it will still have the same Queen as England. The monarchy plays a crucial role in this, the cherry on top of the Cake of State, but please don't confuse this with power or relevance.
I used to be a monarchist, when I was younger, even though I sympathised with republicanism. To square this circle my position became this: that if I were ever to start a country from scratch then certainly it could only be a republic, but that, seeing that we had the Queen and the monarchy and the heritage, it would be silly for Britain to get rid of all that. I know that there are some who find it intolerable that our head of state inherits the job from their parent, and that to persist with it, even ceremonially, is a kind of tyranny. But to obsess about this, to actively pursue a change to our constitution to remove the monarchy, is to utterly waste time and energy that could be devoted to fixing real problems.
That's why I can't call myself a monarchist because that would imply that there was a debate to be had on the subject and there really isn't. There is no arguing with the fact that sovereignty resides with the people. When this was last up for discussion we made the point by arresting Charles I and chopping off his head. That the monarchy was subsequently restored does not change anything at all. From then on, the crown became our possession, to do with as we please and we have not hesitated to make our displeasure known.
In 1688, we kicked out James II and invited William of Orange to be king instead. We picked George I in 1714 and after that we were happy for a while. But in 1936 the unsuitable Edward VIII was forced aside and we made his brother the Duke of York become George VI. If we chose to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee of his daughter, Elizabeth II, it might be because we're pleased with our own selection process. There are more dark mutterings about the next one (this is especially worrying) but there is a limit to the damage a bad king can do. If we have to put up with a dotty old loon for a few years, we will. If it begins to look like he's not worth the grief then we'll simply push on and have William instead. They belong to us, not the other way around.
Yes, the monarchy costs us money - but only about 72p each per year. And yes, they are horribly rich and unelected. But the world is full of people who are horribly rich. Compared with most of the people in the world you are horribly rich. And if you want to have a go at unelected power in Britain then let's demolish the global media empires, let's sort out the corporate lobbying system, because these are the institutions that really do own us. Let's get hereditary peers and the Bishops (bishops!) out of the House of Lords. That would be a good day's work.
It'll have to wait until Wednesday of course because of the Jubilee, so in the meantime have a slice of cake and a cup of tea, wave a Union flag (ironically, if you must) and watch the best bloody broadcasting corporation in the world show off our country, our heritage and that nice little old lady whose life we hijacked when she was 10 years old.
She has been one of the good ones and is worth celebrating.
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