A power beyond politics

As a professor of political science, I have tended to have a dismissive view of the English monarchy. The reason for my somewhat negative estimate has been based on the question of power and where it is located in the British system. Queen Elizabeth II, unlike her namesake centuries before, had no real authority.

It is true that the new prime minister, Liz Truss, like 14 others before her, made the trip to see the queen in order to request permission to form a new government. But it is important to understand that such permission, once denied, would likely never be requested again. In other words, the royal pretense would come to an end.

I have told students that the English people are citizens who insist upon acting as though they are subjects. The monarchy appeared to me as a kind of official Disneyland or a Historyville that added flavor and tourist-like excitement and interest to a nation long past its glory. When I watched the first few seasons of The Crown, my impression only deepened. One observes young Elizabeth theoretically “taking advice” from the actual holders of government power and then essentially placing her imprimatur upon virtually whatever they had to say.

But perhaps the function of the English monarchy is to serve as moral exemplars who cultivate dignity in both the state and its people. Elizabeth and Philip certainly served that purpose. We saw it largely frittered away by their children. Virtually every woman of my age remembers waking early to see Charles wed Diana, but what did it come to other than death and scandal? Grandson William and wife Kate seem to be making a run at a restoration, but who knows? Currently, much is being made of Elizabeth’s forgiveness and grace toward her son in order to buttress support for his reign.

And yet, though I sound dismissive and to some extent am so, I cannot help but observe that the British people do not seem to share my view of the thing. Boris Johnson detailed how he broke down when asked by the BBC to reflect on the Queen’s death before it actually happened. We observe the tremendous collective mourning of the English at the passing of a monarch who did not make a single authoritative decision regarding public policy. Their grief is real. To me, the son of the branch cut off from this tree, it tends toward elaborate fantasy.

But I think about Winston Churchill, who so deeply respected the English monarchy that young Elizabeth had to ask him to sit rather than stand in her presence when he was increasingly elderly. Winston Churchill, one of the greatest statesmen and politicians of the tumultuous 20th century, one of the people who really made a difference in a dangerous world, felt that he should stand in the queen’s presence. That means something. Churchill was no fool. Why did he want to stand with his knees and back likely failing him when he was the real shaper of events?

I believe the answer is that somewhere along the way the English monarchy transcended political power and became something more like the symbol and repository of Britishness. The English people treasure this unity that holds itself at a distance from politics and that, at its best, turns its head more in the direction of religion. Elizabeth was able to manage that dynamic almost perfectly.

As an American, part of the community that ostensibly triumphed over the mother country and largely replaced it on the world stage, I can’t help but observe that the Brits seem to have something we are lacking. They are still able to celebrate and rally around an organic unity that has somehow become fundamental to them as a people. What do we have? At one time, we had 1776, now under attack as a false flag of freedom. We had George Washington, now derided by many on the left as nothing more than a slave holder. We had Abraham Lincoln, who is increasingly disrespected by vanguards on both left and right. We had the existential struggle of the Cold War, now almost totally forgotten by everyone under 40, some of whom seem to yearn for collectivism’s tender embrace. We had the Constitution, now treated by some as an obstacle to political will.

As much as I protest, it would be wrong for me not to admit that there is something across the Atlantic worth thinking about. The British seem to know who they are on some level. We, on the other hand, wander like amnesiacs with bad consciences looking for legitimacy. We proudly have neither king nor queen, but at times it feels like a loss.