Move over Barack and Michelle, get out of the way David and Victoria, there is a new power couple on the block. Their names are Henry, although you'll know him as #Harry, and #Meghan. Soon enough everyone will know their names and faces, as the front pages of the major newspapers and the first items on every news programme will be plastered with their pictures. They are a good-looking couple, they inspire millions through their good works, one is a war veteran, the other a world-famous actress. I have no doubt that they will make a fine couple and that their impending #wedding, if we are to believe the gossip, will draw the eyes of the world onto Britain.
Alas, I can not help but lament one of our most important institutions submitting to the discomforting Cult Of Celebrity.
'It's a hap-hap-happy day...'
Crowds will be drawn out onto the streets to see the golden carriages and the wonderful uniforms, a host of famous faces will appear in their morning suits and hideously expensive dresses, some might even sing hymns which they otherwise wouldn't, and all of this whilst the world looks to the old imperial capital to see that, if nothing else, we can still do the pomp and ceremony. It will be a nice chance to forget our problems, to see some semblance of tradition, and, I hope, a proper wedding service (although in modern Britain, perhaps we will get some DIY vows, guitars to provide accompaniment to 'I Vow to Thee, My Country' and a dressed-down archbishop of Canterbury).
It will be, in the words of Arthur Askey, 'a hap-hap-happy day', and yet I cannot bring myself to look forward to such an event. In fact, I dread it. Every newspaper will be covered in photographs of the blushing bride, perhaps they will regale us with predictions of their first child's birth date, if we are very lucky we might be able to put a bet on the baby's name and weight.
Lucky us.
This royal throne of kings
I am a staunch monarchist, in fact, I would go so far as to say that constitutional monarchy is the best form of government yet devised. Naturally, I cannot but marvel at the glorious pageantry, but that is fast becoming an exceedingly thin veneer as the ancient wonder and majesty are steadily stripped away.
As those who don't do God and can't see the point of monarchy file into Westminster Abbey or St. Paul's Cathedral, with one eye on constant alert for a passing camera and the other glancing disinterestedly at the High Altar and the ancient costumes. We are left with the fickle popularity of the celebrity, not the heirs of Edward the Confessor.
The primary purpose of the monarch is to deny ultimate political power to a politician, which we must be grateful for, and to unite his subjects as no one else can. The Queen, one of the last people in national life for whom the duty is all, is very good at the latter, which even the staunchest republican will admit, but I wish she had been more ready to exercise the former.
The Prince of Wales is spot on with most of his observations, from architecture to the Book of Common Prayer, and I think he will make as fine a king as his mother has been queen. However, we have seen the unthinking rage when he dared to write private letters to the government in the past, and the cult of celebrity will not protect the Windsors from the self-righteous mob when they start to say and think the wrong opinions. That they have served us well, will mean nothing.
The words of the first Elizabeth could be just as easily given by the second:
'To be a king and wear a crown is a thing more glorious to them that see it than it is pleasant to them that bear it. For myself, I was never so much enticed with the glorious name of a king or royal authority of a queen as delighted that God hath made me his instrument to maintain his truth and glory and to defend his kingdom as I said from peril, dishonour, tyranny and oppression.
There will never [a] queen sit in my seat with more zeal to my country, care to my subjects and that will sooner with willingness venture her life for your good and safety than myself.'
But that will not matter because the relentless drive of modernity will sweep away the last of the things that together made our constitution as perfect as one has ever been, by the next coronation that is likely to be irrevocably changed.
Vive la reine
If hereditary peers had no place in our constitution, then what chance has a hereditary head of state? That is the argument that will be advanced when the newspapers tire of the Duchess of Cambridge's dress sense, the adorable photographs of Prince George and Princess Charlotte, and the Duke of Edinburgh's dry wit.
The story of the commoner-turned-princess and her dashing helicopter pilot may reinvigorate it for a while longer, but it is not sustainable, and Republicans will spot their chance. That, I am told, is how we should move forward, this anachronism and our weird attachment to it are unhealthy and we ought to wholeheartedly embrace the politicians that do such a fantastic job of running the world.
The over-the-top response to the tragic death of Princess Diana, the shameful demands of those weeping in the streets for a grandmother to stop comforting her grieving grandchildren so as to come and make them feel better instead, was a foretaste of the sorts of things we can expect. I shall try my best to enjoy the wonderfully Christian service, the troops marching in their pristine red uniforms and the quiet serenity of The Queen as her coach passes by, but forgive me if I do not pretend to enjoy the vacuous coverage and capricious adoration which will not long succeed it.
