The longest reign: Musings on 11 remarkable days

PARIS
For someone who lived in the UK in his late teens, and have ever since visited the country for business and leisure over the decades, I have always looked at the British monarchy quizzically and at times uncomprehendingly. 

And yet like most Planet Earth residents I spent an inordinate amount of time last Monday and the previous weeks watching on TV, streaming or reading the press: debates, parades, processions, tributes, national anthems, religious services, that at times felt as long as her 70-year-long reign.

What impressed me and remained with me is the following.

First, not the sheer number of people who lined up  to file past the Queen's coffin in Westminster Hall, but the fact that they were willing to wait for over 12 hours or more for the honor. President Nasser's death drew throngs of people and fired up the whole Arab world,  but I doubt that anybody would have waited that long for him. I still can't wrap around my head what made hundreds of thousands of Britons (and foreigners) go through what must have been at times a painful wait just to see a coffin, illustrious as its contents must have been. This will remain as one of those mysteries of the British psyche I may never unfold. 

Second, the craze wasn't limited to the UK, or the Commonwealth, but was basically global. I would switch from one TV channel to another, or read the online press from around the world and for days and days they carried only one major topic; "The funeral of the century", as the tagline went. Has the world gone mad? Aren't there more important things to focus on? An increasingly scary war in the Ukraine? Global warning? Runaway inflation? Immigration crisis?

Third, in spite of billions of pixels and gallons of ink spent  on the Queen's passing away and the rites associated with it, one topic was simply never mentioned. What did she die of? Sure, it's not particularly shocking that a 96 year-old would die, and sure she looked increasingly frail, but on Tuesday last week we saw her bidding farewell to Boris Johnson and greeting incoming uncurtsying Prime Minister Liz Truss with both of whom she spent a couple of hours (more below on that curtsy - or lack thereof.). And the next day she didn't feel well and then ...she was gone. She can't have been missing BoJo that much, already, can she?

The blogger appearing on a postcard

with the Queen when she visited his 

Central Paris neighborhood in 2004

 

 

Fourth, the British are (in)famous for their quasi-total lack of skills when it comes to major infrastructure projects but when it comes to large spectacles, especially involving the military and extolling the monarchy, they are unbeatable. In just a matter of days they put in place a dazzling show involving complex logistics and organizational excellence that was astonishing. Cecil B. DeMille, the legendary Hollywood film-maker known for his lavish epics, wouldn't have been able to pull it off so spectacularly. And Mr. DeMille had the advantage of countless rehearsals and takes, something unavailable to the organizers: if you make mistakes it's in full view of the whole world. I was also amazed at the punctuality of the various events, despite so many unknowns and the large number of people involved. Probably explains how a tiny island lost in the mists of northern Europe managed to conquer one-third of mankind and build the largest empire the world has ever known and whose remnants the late sovereign represented. 

Fifth, no one would dare make a prediction of what the new King's reign will be like, but two things are certain. One, he won't reign half as long as his august mother. Second, the road is bound to be bumpy when you see the tantrums he threw before a global TV audience just because his pen was leaking. Seriously? There's something definitely wrong with a man who goes berserk on such a mundane issue. With his predecessor, we wouldn't even have noticed that something was amiss.

Sixth, the press was the major broker in getting the show over to us and I was hugely entertained by the crass incompetence of some of the reporters or self-proclaimed specialists pontificating on various TV shows. In France, it was cocorico! as our Sun King, Louis XIV's record as longest reigning monarch in mankind's history still holds: 72 years over Elizabeth II's 70 years (she's still the longest reigning female monarch and longest living monarch ever.) However, a not insignificant detail that French TV and press overlooked is that of Louis XIV's 72 years on the throne, 10 were spent as part of a regency since he was a minor. Meaning that he exercized his full royal prerogatives for only 62 years, whereas the British queen enjoyed all the trappings of power on Day 1. In that respect she does hold the record for longest effective reign in recorded history. 

The press also got it wrong when they often predicted that the Commonwealth would shrink as some countries inevitably ditched the monarchy. Actually there's no direct link between the two. Even if, say, Jamaica took the lead of Barbados and became a republic, they would still remain in the Commonwealth. Remember that Elizabeth II was queen of South Africa until 1961 and of Malta until 1974. Both are still part of the Commonwealth. Even New Zealand's Prime Minister, Jacinda Arden, was largely misquoted as saying she wished her country would become a republic in her lifetime. She never said that. I saw her interview on the Beeb and while she predicted such a thing, she never expressed such a wish, and clearly stated that she wouldn't instigate a move (like a referendum) in that direction. I found it very interesting to see her (and the NZ Governor-General) take a deep curtsy before the Queen's coffin, when the UK's own Prime Minister, Liz Truss, wasn't seen once curtsying to either the Queen on her last days or when she met Charles III. Maybe that Tory Liz is secretly planning a move towards a Republic with Boris Johnson as first president.

 

The blogger in his teens while he lived in Britain.
Visiting Glamis Castle in the Scottish Highlands,
ancestral home of the Queen Mother's family
and where the late Queen's sister, Margaret, was born

 

Seventh, a constant in my long acquaintance with the country has been the lousy, soggy, wet weather I had to endure as a price to pay to live in the UK or visit it. And yet, during those 11 days, without almost no exception, it was either flawlessly blue skies or at least lack of rain, as if the gods had decided to do their bit on the historical moment. If anything, we'll remember it for that.

Eighth, at times, especially at the end, the whole thing felt a bit protracted. Two lying-in-states were a bit much (thank God they didn't decide to drag the coffin around Wales and Northern Ireland or the 14 other "Realms" or countries where the queen was monarch!) and as we got to the end, the endless processions and ceremonies and religious services felt like stretching the point. On the 11th day, Monday, the funeral included several processions, and after the service at Westminster Hall, arriving at Windsor Castle for yet another one, with many of the same attendees, and then a third service, blissfully, for family only, it was clearly overkill. 

Ninth, reflecting on the meaning of it all, it was even more astonishing that it was to honor someone who in eight decades of public service never said anything memorable. Elizabeth II must be the only head of state who never gave a single press interview (Charles and William both have - let's see whether they keep their mother's and grandmother's tradition alive once they start reigning.) 

Tenth, why did Elizabeth II's popularity trump that of her predecessors, current peers and other politicians? My explanation is that rarely has a leader so much identified with her country the way she has. One revealing example that nobody seems to have noticed: She never went on vacation abroad. Not for her, skiing in Gstaad or St Moritz (as Diana was wont to) or frolicking  in the Caribbean (like her own sister, Margaret). Year in and year out, it was Norfolk and Scotland, and Scotland and Norfolk.

Well, it sure was a one-of-a-kind moment and here's one prediction I can safely make: I am unlikely to witness something similar in my lifetime.

Curse of Spanish Monarchs: Never to die on the throne

BARCELONA  

It was from this rebellious and republican city that, two weeks ago, I heard the momentous news. I had just landed at Barcelona's splendid airport (the only one I know that boasts an outdoor section in the transit area, thus allowing you to breathe fresh air and bask in the  sun) and hailed a taxi to take me to my hotel. I had barely sat in the back seat when the taxi driver asked me, "¿Qué le parece?" (What do you think?)

"¿Qué me parece qué?" (What do I think about what?) I asked.

"La abdicación." (The abdication) was the curt answer.

"La abdicación, ¿de quién?" (Whose abdication?)

"Pues, ¡del Rey!" (Well, the King’s) the taxi driver replied before turning on the radio.

I was stunned. As I explained in my blog post "My 20-year affair with Spain" I have known only one Spanish monarch, Juan Carlos, and have always been a great admirer of what he had achieved for his country (Note: I am NOT a royalist, read my April 2011 blog post "Abolish the monarchy or reinvent it"). Sure, the last few years have been quite difficult, in no small part due to the economic crisis which had triggered a popularity loss for all political institutions in the Western world (never high in the first place, anyway) and it wasn't so inconceivable that the great man would bow out. But still, once it happened, it was quite a shock, even in independence-minded Catalonia.

As fate would have it, I find myself back in the same city just a few days before the coronation of Felipe VI. A lot has been written in the press and commented on TV and in the blog sphere, in Spanish and English, about the meaning and consequences of the abdication, but I haven't seen any historical perspective on the topic, namely that unlike British or even former French monarchs, Spanish ones have a long tradition of losing their crowns.

The first Bourbon king, Philip V*, who came to the throne in the early 18th century, abdicated in favor of his son only to climb back to the throne a month later when the new king died unexpectedly. If you want to go back even further, the first king of a united Spain, the legendary Emperor Charles V, the most powerful monarch in his time, ruling over most of the Americas and a good third of Europe, voluntarily renounced his throne in the mid 1500s and finished his days in a remote monastery in western Spain.

But let's just go back two centuries. The early 18th century saw Charles IV** deposed by Napoleon who, ever the family man, put his brother Joseph on the Spanish throne. With Napoleon himself deposed in 1815, brother Joe (known to Spaniards as Pepe Botella*** for being too partial to alcohol) was removed and the Bourbon dynasty was restored with Charles's son, Ferdinand VII, on the throne. Ferdinand lost his job twice but managed to die with his crown on. His daughter and successor, Isabella II, didn't fare any better. After 30 years on the throne she was overthrown; and so disgusted was the country with the Bourbon dynasty that they plucked an Italian prince to come over and become their new sovereign. 

Barely three years into his reign, Amadeo was forced to abdicate and pave the way for the First Spanish Republic which didn't last more than a couple of a years (interestingly, the first  two presidents were both Catalan) and in 1875 the monarchy was restored not with Isabella, who remained in exile, but with her son, Alfonso XII. Young Alfonso was to be the only Spanish king in both the 19th and 20th centuries not to abdicate or be deposed. However, his succession was far from assured since it was one of those rare cases where, upon his death, it was impossible to announce, "The King is Dead! Long Live the King!" The reason? Alfonso had no children; but his wife, Maria Cristina, was pregnant. So Spain had to wait until she was delivered of a baby to know whether they had a posthumous king or queen; it was a son, who became on his birth King Alfonso XIII. 

Alfonso 's reign was an utter disaster: it started with the American-Spanish War of 1898 when Spain lost all its remaining colonial possessions. In 1931, Alfonso XIII (current King Juan Carlos' grandfather) lost the rest of his kingdom when he fled the country and  the Second Spanish Republic was established . Worse was to come with an early version of the Syrian conflict, the Spanish Civil War (another similarity with the Syrian situation was that many foreign fighters rushed to Spain to fight for the Republic). 

Alfonso died in exile, just like his grandmother Isabella, and his son Juan (who carried the title of Count of this city where  a major avenue bears his name) never ruled because dictator Franco wouldn't relinquish power in his favor. For reasons only known to the Generalisimo (or Caudillo as he was also called), he decided that upon his death Juan Carlos, Juan's son,  would succeed him, thus restoring the monarchy in 1975.

With King Juan Carlos following in the family tradition of regnum interruptum, if I may coin the phrase, it is a fair question to wonder whether his son's won't be an even shorter reign, maybe the last one of a long line of monarchs. He is already off to bad start, through no fault of his, though: with Spain, the ruling world soccer champions, having lost humiliatingly their first World Cup game to Holland 5-1 two days ago, many Spaniards are equating Felipe VI= V-I and wondering if worse disasters are yet to come. But Spanish kings have an uncanny knack for survival: after all the  civil wars, rebellions, foreign invasions, forced abdications and other  upheavals, they have managed to transfer the crown from grandparent/parent to child/grandchild for 1,000 years within one single family line. **** 

*Apart from the current monarchs, I am using for the historical ones the English names under which they are know, thus "Charles" for "Carlos" and "Philip" for "Felipe". 

**No mistake in the numbering. Although belonging to the same dynasty, the Hapsburgs (known in Spain as the "Austrias"), Charles IV did come after Charles V. The reason? Charles V was also Holy Roman (that is, German) Emperor and the number  "V" was his number as Emperor. As Spanish king, he was Charles I; but even in Spain he is widely referred to as Charles V, as evidenced by the roundabout in Madrid known as Glorieta del Emperador Carlos V.

***Pepe is Spanish for Joe and botella for bottle. No relation to Madrid's current mayor, Ana Botella.

****Even when the dynasty name changes, because of a female marrying outside the dynasty, it is still the same family. Thus, the first Bourbon king (Philip V)was also the grandson of the last Hapsburg king (Charles II) through his daughter Maria Teresa who had married the famous French King Louis XIV. The three houses of Trastamara, Aragon and Hapsburg, who ruled in succession in the late Middle Ages/early Renaissance, were actually a grandmother (Isabella the Catholic), daughter (Joanna the Mad) and grandson (the aforementioned Emperor Charles V.)

Abolish the monarchy or reinvent it?

Let's hope for Catherine Middleton
that she escapes the fate of the three
Catherines Heny VIII married (out
of a total of six wives) :

he divorced one (Catherine of Aragon),

beheaded another (Catherine Howard)

with the last one, Catherine Parr,
surviving  a similar fate only by the
King's timely death.

PARIS

Unless you've been living on planet Mars for the past couple of weeks, you are unlikely to have missed yesterday's wedding of the heir to the heir to the British throne. The occasion has sparked some lively debate on the monarchy's future and I was surprised at the disappointing quality of The Economist's column on the topic.

I remember an excellent article they wrote a good 15 years ago called "An idea whose time has passed" which made cogently the case against the monarchy. Last week's column, on the other hand, is one of the worst I’ve read in The Economist in a long time. Although I don’t disagree with its main tenet, abolishing the monarchy, the arguments used are so convoluted that Bagehot does a disservice to the republican cause. With people attacking the monarchy this way, the House of Hanover (a.k.a Windsors)  is safe for another three centuries.  In theory I would always prefer a republic to a monarchy for the simple reason that why should the highest post in the land, that of head of state, be reserved to a single family? In a truly democratic and egalitarian society anybody should be allowed to reach that exalted position.

All the talk about modernizing the monarchy is simply absurd: how can you "modernize" an institution created in and for the Middle Ages? Its idea has just passed its time. The only way to "modernize" the monarchy is surely to abolish it.

Now, to the real world. Monarchies fall only in periods of crisis: war, revolutions and other political/social upheavals. There is no case of a peacetime “pensioning off” of the royals since, at least in European monarchies which are democratic societies, people realize that the royal family does little harm and therefore why fix what ain't broke? Instead of bothering about who should be on the throne (with limited political power) or even whether there should be a throne in the first place, people realize that there are a lot of other more serious issues  to deal with: unemployment, global warming, reforming bankers –now here’s a group of people who should head straight to the guillotine and yet our so-called democracies dare not touch them; maybe they are the true royals, our undisputed masters. And when a democracy does go to the polls to decide whether to keep the monarchy, in the only recent case (Australia), they voted to keep it (regardless of the fact that the monarch lives thousands of miles away and is now too old to visit them.) And for good reason. Look at the French model which isn’t one: the French president is for all intents and purposes an elected monarch who wields enormous power (proportionately even more than the US president) and yet we can’t say that the French are better off with him (we have yet to have a “her.”)

And why should the alternative to the current monarchical system be a republic only? One can be creative and use an intermediate system which would be more in consonance with the country’s political and institutional history. For instance, why not make the queen or king an elected position? The much-beloved (by the British and tourists) pageantry, coronation and titles will still be maintained but any British citizen could aspire to the position which they will hold for life (just like judges and some other officials in many republican democracies.) This life term wouldn’t be a democratic issue since the monarch would not hold executive power, the Prime Minister would continue with his functions. 

Actually, if it sounds like a novel idea, historically it isn’t. As recently as the 18^th century, Poland chose its kings this way. Polish kings came to the throne not through inheritance but because they had been selected by the Diet (Polish parliament.) Actually, the Poles didn’t even show too nationalistic a streak as they would cast the net wider  and along with representatives from prominent Polish families include European candidates. Thus in the 16^th century Henry of Valois, brother to the King of France, was elected king of what for most people then was faraway Poland.  Now that would be a great way for Britain to enhance its European credentials. And who knows? A couple of centuries from now latter-day Britons may well wonder how retarded it was to reserve the crown to a single family.