I wasn’t sure whether I would bother writing about Charles III’s Coronation, so much ink have I already spilt on rolling my eyes at the royals.1 But there’s just no getting away from it, so here are a few loosely connected reflections on this silly spectacle.
“So they say of the cross of Our Lord, which is shown publicly and privately in so many places, that, if all the fragments were collected together, they would appear to form a fair cargo for a merchant ship.”
So wrote Desiderious Erasmus. It turns out that he was wrong. From the National Catholic Register:
[A] French independent scholar named Charles Rohault de Fleury assigned himself the task of tracking down and measuring every surviving relic of the True Cross… In 1870, de Fleury…concluded that if all the surviving relics of the True Cross were somehow reassembled, there would not be enough lumber to crucify a man, let alone build Noah’s Ark. The 20th-century English Catholic author Evelyn Waugh, referring to de Fleury’s conclusions, said, “As far as volume goes, therefore, there is no strain on the credulity of the faithful.”
Poor old Erasmus, you might think. But the fretful Catholics have, as ever, missed the point. Erasmus was satirising the absurdity of relic fetishization in general. Whatever the truth about the volume of the True Cross and the splinters claimed to have come from it, there remain the irreducible facts that the provenance of these relics is unknown (if not unknowable) and that even the historical truth of the Crucifixion, never mind the supernatural claims attendant upon it, is highly contestable (this is to put it very mildly indeed). And, anyway, isn’t there something, well, superstitious, even pagan, about the veneration of such objects?
All this is a preface to the very silly gifting by the Pope of some supposedly holy splinters to King Charles for his coronation. What a story! The head of the Catholic Church cosying up to the leader of the rival sect that utterly denies his authority and whose rules prevent any Catholic from ever being head of the British state. Such is the laughable nonsense that results from ecumenicism.
But all this represents something that is perhaps more sinister than silly: the supernaturalism embedded in British political life. What children we must seem when wood fetishism is to be a part of our culture. And then there is the rest of it—the holy oil and the divine mandate and the solemn prayers. Harmless nonsense? No, this is how we actually inaugurate our head of state. (From the BBC: “[T]he sacred act of anointing a monarch with holy oil…can be traced back to the 7th and 8th centuries, and signals the monarch has been chosen by God.”)
In a universe shining with true beauty, Britain insists on infantilising itself with cheap, boring, discredited magic. To me, this silliness symbolises the rot at the heart of Britain: the ritualistic obfuscation of power, whose fount is the monarchy, and whose effects can be felt when our elected leaders exercise the power invested in them as ministers of the Crown (one example will suffice: the Royal Prerogative, the ultimate source of overweening government power). This is how the monarchy, however supposedly constitutional, undermines democracy and good government. The magic of monarchy is the perfect cover for perfidy. (And the monarch him/herself is not quite as “above politics” as is often claimed: consider Charles’s notorious interference in politics or the saintly Elizabeth II’s use of an obscure procedure to influence government decision-making to her own benefit.)
Above all, though, this is all really very stupid. We are supposed to believe that some oil and some pieces of wood possess supernatural qualities and that this legitimates a man so hopelessly pathetic as the plant-whispering, Islamophilic, tampon-hopeful Charles Windsor to be our national leader—and one chosen by the supreme creator of the universe at that. Could God not have done just a little bit better?
Shall we be spared the ghastly sight of those weirdly fat fingers caressing (defiling?) the splinters of the True Cross? I sincerely hope so. But if Charles’s proclivities for quackery and fetishism (in all senses of the word) are any indication, I recommend that the Pope make the splinters a very temporary gift.
Yes, I said Charles is Islamophilic. Along with the Pope’s gift, this points to another absurdity: we have a head of state whose office is avowedly sectarian trying his best to be multicultural and ecumenical. So reports the BBC of Charles’s coronation plans:
The Christian service will also see religious leaders from other faiths have an active part for the first time.
…
Despite changes designed to reflect other faiths, the three oaths the King will take and form the heart of the service remain unchanged, including the promise to maintain "the Protestant Reformed Religion".
…
King Charles…will be crowned…in a service that will use traditional language and texts from the King James Bible.
While the oaths - which have remained unchanged for centuries - will retain their Protestant pledge, Lambeth Palace said the Archbishop of Canterbury will "contextualise" them.
He will say beforehand that the Church of England will seek to create an environment where "people of all faiths and beliefs may live freely".
…
As part of the service Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Sikh peers will present the King with pieces of the coronation regalia, including bracelets, the robe, the ring, and the glove.
Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, a practising Hindu, will read from the biblical book of Colossians.
The blessing will be shared by leaders of different Christian denominations for the first time, including the Catholic Cardinal Vincent Nichols.
After the religious service has ended, the King will receive a greeting by Jewish, Hindu, Sikh, Muslim and Buddhist leaders.
…
The greeting will not be audible for most watching outside Westminster Abbey because the Chief Rabbi will be observing the Jewish Shabbat which prohibits the use of electricity, including microphones.
The contradictions here are insuperable. Either the monarch is chosen by the Protestant God and exists to uphold the Church of England or not. You can have multiculturalism or absolutism, but not both, however much Charles wishes otherwise. Charles seems to want the worst of all worlds: a flabby inclusiveness2 allied to an essentially theocratic and sectarian institution. The Shabbat detail is what really gets me—in King Charles’s Britain, all superstitions are to be indulged at the highest level! Once more: how foolish Britain must look right now.
The way out, of course, is secularism—no religious head of state and no special privileges for any religion. Of course, the demand for secularism is also a demand for rational and democratic self-government, a necessary condition of which is the rejection of all gods and kingly masters.
I have, as it happens, heard arguments for the secularisation of the monarchy. These are absurd. The British monarch is defined as the head of the Church of England and Christianity is utterly essential to the institution. One simply cannot have a monarch in Britain without the religious aspect: to secularise the monarchy would be, simply, to destroy it.
It is another pretty binary choice: secular democracy or monarchy. Monarchism, particularly in Britain, is a form of superstition and is by its nature undemocratic. It relies upon supernaturalism and magical thinking. It simply cannot be secularized.
(For what it’s worth, the really committed monarchist understands this and would hate to see a secularised monarchy. They are correct that this would look ridiculous. Even I would lament the hollowness of what would result from such an experiment.)
And what of this oath we are “invited” to say?3 Another contradiction: we are not being commanded, or even asked, but “invited” to take this oath! Making an absolutist oath full of supernatural twaddle optional is perhaps the clearest indication of what a sorry state the monarchy is in. It is and must be, but cannot be, sectarian. And it cannot even rely on good old-fashioned deference among its subjects these days.
I almost feel sorry for Charles. He has inherited an impossible situation. By staying true to the fundamental principles of the British monarchy, he makes it irrelevant. By contradictory and impossible dilution of those principles, he makes it meaningless. I am beginning to think that this must be the end of the monarchy. It was for a long time held together only by the strength and presence of Elizabeth II. Now, I doubt if it can hold on much longer.4 Perhaps some of the absurdity I castigate above is better understood as a symptom of terminal decay. We shall see.
And no, I shall not be accepting His Maj’s generous invitation.
Scotland, it seems, is much more indifferent than England in how it sees the monarchy nowadays. This was apparent when the Queen died, and is even more apparent now, and it doesn’t bode well for the future of the Union or the monarchy. Perhaps, in the end, only a British Republic can save the Union?5 Now there’s a thought…
Here is the ultimate reason I reject the monarchy: no fellow mammal of mine is born, let alone appointed by the creator of the universe, to rule over me. I reject all such claims to authority, now and forever.
Some stimulating recent pieces on the monarchy: Tom Holland in The Guardian, Nick Cohen on his Substack, and William Fear in Areo Magazine.
Holland makes some of the points about supernaturalism which I’ve tried to make above, albeit from a sympathetic position.6 Fear provides an interesting if ultimately unconvincing Orwellian/leftist defence of monarchy. And Cohen is good on what the ascension of Charles to the throne says about Britain today (and also provides some polling that shows the utter indifference with which a great many Brits view the Coronation).7
For now, adieu, and let us hope the King lives not long, for what heartless wretch would deny him his dream of reincarnation as Camilla’s tampon?8
Another example of the monarchy’s attempt to be “inclusive” is in the disavowal of its history. Consider Charles’s not-quite apology for colonialism last year. Whether the monarchy is going “woke”, as some poor souls fear, prompts another reflection: I’ve quite enjoyed watching the Duke and Duchess of Sussex making the royals squirm. Yes, yes, they’re vapid and insufferable too, but I’ll always have a soft spot for people who are such a thorn in the side of monarchy.
From the BBC again:
“The order of service will read: "All who so desire, in the Abbey, and elsewhere, say together: I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God."
It will be followed by the playing of a fanfare.
The Archbishop of Canterbury will then proclaim "God save the King", with all asked to respond: "God save King Charles. Long live King Charles. May the King live forever."
Charles Windsor and immortality—just imagine never being rid of him. The horror!
It should also be said that this oath undermines all the ecumenicism. How can Hindus say “So help me God”? And calling this oath “the homage of the people” is a clever move—how like the British to evoke democracy in the name of inherited political privilege and subservience to divinely-sanctioned mediocrity!
Never mind that young Brits are overwhelmingly indifferent: 78% have no interest in the royals. There might, just, be broad support for the monarchy, but how long can it last when the old duffers who make up the core of its support are, obviously, not long for this world?
Britishness, in other words, transcends the monarchy. As so often, Orwell comes to mind. In 1940, for example, he wrote:
Only revolution can save England, that has been obvious for years, but now the revolution has started, and it may proceed quite quickly if only we can keep Hitler out. Within two years, maybe a year, if only we can hang on, we shall see changes that will surprise the idiots who have no foresight. I dare say the London gutters will have to run with blood. All right, let them, if it is necessary. But when the red militias are billeted in the Ritz I shall still feel that the England I was taught to love so long ago for such different reasons is somehow persisting. [My emphasis.]
Incidentally, Orwell was pro-monarchy. In the above-cited essay, he writes that a revolutionary England would likely retain the monarchy. And in 1944, he wrote:
The function of the King in promoting stability and acting as a sort of keystone in a non-democratic society is, of course, obvious. But he also has, or can have, the function of acting as an escape-valve for dangerous emotions.
This leftist case for the monarchy was recently extolled by William Fear in Areo Magazine. It’s a case I can appreciate, and Orwell’s stance on anything is always worth taking seriously, even if I ultimately disagree with it. In essence, it is a pragmatic case, and for me, the issue is, at root, one of principle rather than pragmatism (though I’m unconvinced by the pragmatic arguments, too).
Though he is far too insistent on believing that royal coronations in Britain have an ancient, unbroken history. See here for an explanation of how they evolved into their present state much more recently than Holland would have it.
Though I don’t share Cohen’s indifference to the question of monarchy:
In the 1990s as the scandals about the treatment of Princess Diana raged, I was a republican. Now I don’t care enough about the monarchy to want to abolish it.
EDIT/ADDITION: Immature children that we are, one of my friends and I made some merriment out of the King’s strange desires, and my friend gave me the inspiration for the following very silly joke: