69%. That’s the proportion of respondents who now agree that Britain would be ‘worse off’ without the monarchy. It’s the highest figure since polling began in 1997. Clearly the institution owes much to Liz’s personal charisma and sound stewardship of the throne. In 1946, Gallup asked the public who they most admired: George VI, her father – lionised in the The King’s Speech – polled 3%, just behind Marshal Stalin.
Since her decadent coronation in 1953, Britain has changed in every way. Our imperial pretensions as a nation have subsided, notwithstanding sporadic efforts to revive them. Our society and economy has become more open, fluid and global. Yet instead of rejecting custom and tradition, the public has overwhelmingly held on to them. So what’s going on?
Ardent Royalists should simmer down. In a popularity contest the Queen has it easy. She never has to voice an opinion (prudently she never does; the Prince of Wales would do well to follow suit) or make a decision. Politicians don’t have that luxury. They are condemned to choose between rival ends, rewarding one interest group to the exclusion of another. Over a long period of time everyone gets pissed off at some politician or other, which is largely why as a class they attract derision. Queen Liz sensibly stays above the fray, though of course she is constitutionally prohibited from venturing into it. The monarchy’s relative popularity has little to do with its inhabitant’s character, though incidentally, having coped with Prince Phillip for sixty-five years surely she has a very steadfast one. Providing a monarch doesn’t do anything silly, like abolish Parliament or order Magna Carta toilet paper into the Palace, they’re bound to rub along all right with their subjects.
That’s not quite sufficient though. Personality matters. The monarch personifies the state; she is Britannia incarnate. Elizabeth’s manner doesn’t merely reflect on our nation but epitomises it. We identify with nationhood and therefore how it is defined by her actions and deeds matters greatly. In that respect we have been fortunate. Whilst the new generation is perceived to be crass, sensationalist and subject to instant gratification, the Queen is its antithesis: measured, phlegmatic and wise. The relationship between the institution of monarchy and the monarch is reciprocal – they lend credibility and reverence to each other.
Popularity is only one reason to credit the monarchy as an institution. Ultimately popularity is transient; it’s likely that current levels of support are to some degree a function of a bumper year for royalty with the Wedding, the Jubilee and the Olympics. At some point a broader public debate about its virtues and vices must be undertaken. Julia Gillard, the Australian Premier, has suggested a referendum on becoming a republic when Elizabeth II dies. That would be timely and perhaps we should follow her lead.
Political heads of state have the strength of relevance; they have the weakness of being polarising across political cleavages, something royals would find very difficult to do. With occasional slip-ups (the lacklustre response to Diana’s death) the royals have assiduously kept the pulse of the nation and are now reaping the rewards. It is an institution like no other, medieval in origin but not in outlook. The Left are bewildered by the rude health of this anachronism, but really they shouldn’t be. It does what no quangocracy could, for a fraction of the price. In our diverse country it binds us together in a national consciousness; it is an outlet for patriotism and fraternal unity that we would otherwise find difficult to express. In doing so it strengthens our democracy. Orwell understood this; his 1941 essay The Lion and the Unicorn idealised a socialist state absent of the House of Lords but accommodating of the monarchy. Let’s keep it, not because it’s popular but because it works.
