On the menu today: An era ends with the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. She represented another world of values and priorities, and her dignity and reserve will be missed in this most undignified and unreserved of times. To an American, the queen represented something of a paradox — we have no desire for a monarchy and founded our country on the rejection of the royal throne, but she was so likeable and steadfast that she made the institution and its related expenses much easier to justify. She built up a mountain of goodwill that Charles should be careful not to squander.
Queen Elizabeth II, R.I.P.
The death of Queen Elizabeth II brings sadness, but not shock. Ninety-six years on Earth and seven decades on the throne are about as good and long a run as a human being can hope to experience. Her death marks the end of an exceptionally long, exceptionally consequential, and generally happy life. I think we’d all like to have achieved that when our time here is done.
The last serving head of state to have served in the military (she joined the Auxiliary Territorial Service in 1945) during the Second World War, Elizabeth stuck with the standards expected of Britain’s wartime generation, standards also reflected in the advice on the role of a modern constitutional monarch that she was given by George VI, the father she adored, a king profoundly shaped by the wartime years. Conscientious, hardworking, and self-disciplined, and with a life apparently free from scandal, Elizabeth rarely put a foot wrong. She did her best to ensure (with occasional, discreetly phrased exceptions, such as over Scottish independence) that she kept clear from revealing anything about her political views, exercising a discretion that, like so many of her other qualities, has not been so apparent in her successor, King Charles III.
It is the end of an era, and yet we will see and feel few tangible changes. No foreign or domestic policies of the United Kingdom will change. The “special relationship” with the United States is intact. King Charles — boy, do those words sound strange to the ears — may irritate some with his vocal views about climate change and what must be done to combat it, but his will be just one voice in a loud, wide-ranging, and contentious debate.
She eschewed politics in a way her son and heir Charles has found difficult to do. Her personal views on the important political questions of her reign, from the Suez crisis to Brexit, remained unknown for many years after events and sometimes to this day. She mastered the art of being present in the public eye without attracting the tabloid headlines that have marked her children and grandchildren.
These traits made her that rarest of things in the modern world: a widely beloved national figure also respected around the world. In moments of crisis, she was the one to whom Britons looked for inspiration — most recently with her important “We Will Meet Again” address at the height of the coronavirus pandemic in 2020. Her unique charisma tended to obscure the anachronism that is any hereditary monarchy, which leaves to fate the question of whether a country will get the leader it needs at the right time.
I noted on yesterday’s quickly retaped Three Martini Lunch that when you’re born and live every day with enormous public attention, you don’t need to speak or act in ways that attract more public attention. The queen didn’t feel the need to chase headlines, to share her every thought on every subject, or to provoke or deliberately court controversy. In some ways, she embodied the opposite of controversy, aiming to consistently reassure instead of maximizing the friction of discord.
Queen Elizabeth II made it easy to like her, even if you don’t like the idea of monarchies. There’s something a little unusual about the fact that the United States of America, launched by a revolution against a monarchy and founded on the principle that no human being should be born into a role of government power, has so many citizens — not subjects — who remain fascinated by the seemingly endless drama that surrounds the British royal family.
It is easier for those of us committed to the principles of living in a constitutional republic to warm up to the British monarchy because its monarch operates under a constitution, with ceremonial power as head of state, but not head of government; the ability to make and pass legislation resides entirely with the elected members of Parliament. As the House of Windsor’s website summarizes, “The Sovereign acts as a focus for national identity, unity and pride; gives a sense of stability and continuity; officially recognizes success and excellence; and supports the ideal of voluntary service.”
Europe’s royal families are almost like national mascots.
I’ve never liked the idea that the U.S. could ever have an unofficial royal family — whether the purported contender for the throne is the Kennedys, the Bushes, or some other political dynasty. (Considering the number of salacious and sordid scandals among the Windsors in recent years, I suppose I can see why people might nominate the Kardashians as the American equivalent.) A famous family name is a huge advantage in politics, but we don’t have to celebrate that fact.
Here in America, our Prince is from Minnesota, we have competing kings of rock and roll and a king of pop, and maybe the Mannings are the royal family of the NFL.
Yesterday, a wise mind suggested to me that the role that the royal family plays in the United Kingdom is played over here by retired presidents and first ladies. Retired presidents hold no formal power, but they remain influential. They support charitable causes and tape public-service announcements. They get a lot of media coverage when they make appearances, even if what they say is not particularly surprising or controversial. People still stand when a former president enters a room, and they are protected by the Secret Service until the day they die, unless they decline that protection. Taxpayers cover a lot of their luxurious lifestyles. They are old familiar faces and symbols of the state, with no real formal power over government decision-making.
The decision to keep or scrap the monarchy is up to the people of the United Kingdom. Earlier this summer, a YouGov survey found that 62 percent of Britons believe their country should keep the monarchy, but the opinion among 18-to-24-year-olds was almost evenly split.
For 2021-2022, the Sovereign Grant, or taxpayer subsidy, for the British royal family was set at £86.3 million, or roughly $99 million, not including security costs.
The expense of the monarchy is easier to justify when the head of state is someone like Queen Elizabeth II, the corgi-loving national grandmother, almost always dignified and reserved, but occasionally “feisty” or willing to laugh a bit at her own image, parachuting out of a helicopter with James Bond or having tea with Paddington. It’s not surprising that comedy writers kept coming back to the idea that there was some rough-and-tumble, wild-and-crazy, mischievous spirit behind all that traditional British reserve.
If I were to set up a country from scratch, it would not have a monarch. But Britain, my country of birth, has already been set up. Which makes the material question not whether Britain ought to have a monarchy, but whether the monarchy — and, indeed, the monarch — that Britain has can be considered worthwhile. For more than 70 years, Queen Elizabeth II made it easy to answer that question with a resounding “Yes.” She was a model of duty, honesty, and hard work, and for those admirable qualities she will immediately be missed.
The expense of the monarchy will be much tougher to justify if members of the royal family keep getting into embarrassing scandals and the whole flock starts to resemble taxpayer-funded Kardashians.
You’ll forgive me if, as yesterday began with the word that her health was failing, a stray thought of The Naked Gun crossed my mind. I wasn’t so much wondering if Reggie Jackson had an alibi; it just occurred to me that the character played by Canadian comedian Leslie Nielsen had perfectly summarized the monarchy with an insult tucked into some boilerplate press-conference blather in the film: “No matter how silly the idea of having a queen might be to us, as Americans, we must be gracious and considerate hosts.” A monarchy is not for us, but Queen Elizabeth long ago earned our grace and consideration.
ADDENDUM: Michael Brendan Dougherty offers a funny but painfully accurate note to his state’s governor, Kathy Hochul, urging her to step outside of her comfortable circle of sycophants and interact with actual New Yorkers of all political stripes:
If Viktor Orbán had said about his opponents what you said about yours, it would be added to the long list of reasons why people think democracy is dying in the 21st century. Trump won almost 40 percent of the vote in this state, over 3.2 million voters. Outside of New York City’s metro area and Albany, this is a giant red state. You know that because you represented one of the districts that has gone red. It’s a struggling red state, too. The United States is a growing country. But even with the most important city in America, New York State is shrinking.