Tyranny in London: A Much Bigger Story than the Coronation
Plus: a few more scattered reflections on the crowning of Charles III
Unfortunately, I have been enduring the Coronation coverage. I even saw most of the ceremony itself. But something much more important happened earlier today: the arbitrary arrest of anti-monarchy protestors in London. Despite liaising with the Metropolitan Police for months, the head of the campaign group Republic and several others were hauled off by some thuggish officers as they were setting up to protest the Coronation. Even their “Not My King” placards were bundled into a police van. So much for the rule of law and that much-vaunted British/English tradition of liberty.
Steven Knight put it very well: “If you can't protest the coronation of a King, then you simply don't have the right of protest.” This is a serious assault on liberty in this country, made easier by the recent passage of new (and authoritarian, in my view) anti-protest legislation in England. Some of the people who no doubt see the monarchy as the guarantor of British liberties are unbothered by this. One such tweeter said that caring about it is “boring outrage” (and goes on to misuse the 2003 Communications Act to justify the arrests).
So, this is Britain in 2023: no dissent against the enthronement of Charles Windsor is to be tolerated. Nobody is to be able to ruin the spectacle and show the world that the monarchy is not universally beloved. Some will smirk at this characterisation, but in my view it is not at all an exaggeration to say that these arrests are an act of tyranny.
The BBC reports that: “On Wednesday, the [Metropolitan Police] force said they would have an "extremely low threshold" for protests during coronation celebrations, adding that demonstrators should expect "swift action".” Read those words again. How bloody well dare the Met be so presumptuous? This is police power at its most nakedly, appallingly arrogant.
If a certain sort of person were to read that the forces of the state were promising “swift action” against people exercising their legitimate right to protest the head of state in some far-off country, they would surely think that that country was some kind of banana republic. If they read a few days later that the protestors had indeed been arrested, almost certainly spuriously, before they had even had the chance to raise their voices, then our imaginary reader would no doubt nod their head and thank the King for British liberty. But it happens here, today, quite openly and shamelessly, and hardly anyone cares: the spectacle of monarchy is all that matters.
The arrests once more give the lie to the idea that the monarchy is apolitical. No, the Coronation is an entirely political event. It is the sanctification of state power on the basis of religion. And if those who propose an alternative system of government are unfree to protest such an event, then how can it possibly be nonpolitical?
This sort of thing happened when the Queen died too, meaning that all of the important milestones in the reign of King Charles III so far have been attended by acts of state suppression of legitimate protests. Is this how the monarchy intends to survive? Such a pattern is indicative not of police mistakes but of a deliberate targeting of people who do not subscribe to the cult of the Windsors and who are unafraid to say so, and say so loudly.
Once more: the police in this country are brazen enough to arrest people who disagree with our political structure and who wish to express that opinion in a perfectly legitimate democratic manner. If Charles really is the fount and protector of our freedoms, then he ought to put a stop to this immediately: a few words from him is all it would take. But so far—nothing at all.
For shame. For shame.1
“But we don’t mind them having their opinions, we just don’t want them to express their opinions on certain days at certain times.” If such a stupid and dangerous defence appeals to you, you understand nothing at all.
A few funny moments from the Coronation ceremony itself:
Charles looking back and forth to squint at cue cards held at his side by a cleric as he took some oaths, awkwardly stumbling over his words and looking uncertain as he checked to see if he had missed anything out.
Charles stripping off and hiding behind some screens to be anointed with holy oil followed by the sight of him on his knees surrounded by men in flowing robes looking like the recipient of a quite different type of holy oil in some weird bukkake porno.2
The Archbish needing a couple of tries to screw the crown onto Charles’s head.
Charles, one of the most unintelligent men on the planet with an inversely proportional desire to utter his foolish opinions to the world, wearing a vestment to symbolise his letting go of “all worldly vanity”.
As I wrote previously, the contradiction between the sectarian nature of the monarchy and the Coronation’s attempt to be “inclusive” is insuperable. So when we are told during the ceremony that Charles’s oaths to the Church of England really mean that the Church of England is the upholder of religious freedom, one wonders how this can be squared not only with the religious exclusiveness of the office of head of state itself but also the establishment of a tax-funded state religion whose clerics sit in our legislature just because they are bishops. The mysteries of monarchy never cease.
And anyway, what about the large irreligious population? So much for inclusiveness!
As expected, just about every news website has been taken over by Coronation coverage, as if everything else in the world is frozen in time while everyone enjoys the magic. As for the TV coverage—what gushing, breathless, credulous mush, with nary a sign of opposition to be detected (then again, when the Monarchical Met is lurking, ready to stuff dissenters into vans, who would risk such public censure of the Dear Leader?).
I see a lot of conservative types on Twitter castigating the “fucking joyless existence” of we republicans. Tom Jones, apparently a Tory councillor, thinks we are “Soulless, Godless [sic]” to boot. Well, if we’re being literal, everybody is soulless and godless, but never mind that. Meanwhile, Twitter user Capel Lofft almost raises the splenetic to an artform:
Remember that the republicans would deny us all this splendour and joy. If they had their way, some grubby no mark ex politician would be sworn in as president over the stink of municipal pasta bake in a grubby office block. Never! #GSTK
Labelling republicans as miserable sods who just “bitch and moan” (Mr Jones again) and ruin everybody’s fun is to be a little sensitive, no? Humourless and bland and cringe some republicans may be, but this monarchist screeching is, methinks, indicative of some insecurity. Poor, fragile snowflakes. Lighten up and enjoy the jokes about Charles’s Richmond digits, why don’t you?
Personally, I don’t find there to be much colour in cheap magic, superstition, and invented tradition. I think the solemn, pious monarchists are the real bores. I think there is a nobler and richer British tradition—the republican and radical one—but, monarchist friends, if you are so confident in your Wizard of Oz, why all the petulant wailing and shrieking about those meany republicans?
Of course, there are plenty of monarchists who are a little more mature. In The Critic3, Marcus Walker quite humorously expresses pity for republicans: “So God Save the King. And thoughts and prayers for our republican friends during this difficult time.” It seems, however, that Mr Walker is unaware of some recent polling data which do not bode well for the future of the monarchy. From Nick Cohen’s recent Substack piece:
Support for the royal family among the young has collapsed. Almost 78 per cent said they were “not interested” in the monarchy. Meanwhile, people from ethnic minority backgrounds were less likely to be supportive of the continuation of the monarchy, with 40 per cent saying they would prefer an elected head of state instead. Racism and the legacy of slavery has already persuaded Barbados to break free from its colonial past by removing the British monarch as head of state. Other Caribbean nations will follow, as one day, will Australia, Canada and New Zealand. The “realms and territories” of the British king are shrinking as the memory of the British empire fades.
Perhaps it is the royalists who deserve some pity, then.
The thin-skinned monarchists should be angry about the assault on civil liberties currently being conducted in the name of King Charles III, not the opinions of republicans. But that would be rational and decent, and perhaps that is not what should be expected of such people.
A confession, Mr Jones: it is quite tiring, having to do all this bitching and moaning. But I cannot help caring about certain things, so bore off.
And anyone who cares about anything important, especially when it concerns power and principle, is likely to be dismissed with such verbs. So it goes.
If it turns out that there was a legitimate reason to arrest anyone, I’ll eat my words. But that doesn’t look likely.
Incidentally, this secretive part of the ceremony is the perfect symbol of what I previously described as “the ritual obfuscation of power” which the monarchy embeds in our politics.
A very good magazine to which I recently contributed, though I’ve criticised many of the opinions to be found in it (unsurprisingly, since it is a pretty conservative outlet).