We Are Not Amused

Ours is a plastic, throw-away culture. In the perpetual quest for instant gratification--fast food, heart-stopping entertainment, efficient government--we tend to endorse and abolish in grand swaths, with a flick of the wrist, a snap of the fingers and little thought. We love McDonald's french fries for their perfectly consistent thickness and temperature, Schwarzenegger because he produces a constant stream of adrenaline, and a congressperson who stays out of trouble and agrees with us on everything.

Still unthinking, for those things which do not give us an instant buzz, our patronage turns to treachery. In these cases, if one child displeases us, we suggest massacring the entire family. If the present tenants of a house are distasteful, we knock the house down.

Such is the unhappy fate of Britain's monarchy. We just seem unable to separate the institution from its present occupants. The Royal Romp of the past decade has spawned a growing disenchantment with the entire system of constitutional monarchy, so much so that even the venerable Economist has entered the fray, declaring on the cover of a recent issue that the monarchy is "An idea whose time has passed." All of this is done without very much thought.

In the latest development in the "War of the Waleses"--or "War of the Windsors," whichever you prefer--Maj. James Hewitt reveals that he "did it with Di" (in Time's elegant phrasing). Charles, ever-ready to retaliate in the Fleet Street mud-sling, contends that he never loved Diana, and felt forced to marry her by his overbearing, emotionally-traumatizing father and aloof mother.

This month, sleazy profiteer and self-professed 'journalist' Andrew Morton comes out with his latest magnum opus, Diana: Her New Life, in which he claims that a $24 million divorce settlement in is the works. Morton is the man who made his career telling inquiring minds around the world about Diana's late-night bulimic binges and five suicide attempts.

Diana describes herself in the book as "the biggest prostitute in the world" and, in another royal witticism, a POW--"Prisoner of Wales." With such a gift for words, one wonders why she doesn't write these books herself.

Having future heads of state tear into each other so vehemently in the world's reading rooms is some cause for alarm. It certainly provides us with more opportunity to think about the monarchy. Unfortunately, like so many other things nowadays, the preferred solution is a form of overkill, guaranteed to end whatever displeases us at whatever the cost.

Joining the endless speculation and discussion of the value of monarchy to Britain, the Economist finally catches the wave of popular resentment, and proposes a referendum to abolish the monarchy in favor of a British republic. Precipitated by the current brouhaha, in other words, lots of Britons are being tempted to throw the entire bad lot away--abolishing royalty guarantees no more royal scandals, because there won't be anybody to be scandalized.

This is a perverse linkage of the value of an institution and its temporary usage. Certainly, it is unfortunate when the heir to the throne has aspirations of being reincarnated as a feminine hygiene product (His Royal Highness was recorded in a conversation with Camilla Parker-Bowles expressing fear that he would be "chucked down the lavatory and go on forever, swirling round the top, never going down."). But since so many Britons support the idea of a monarchy--75 percent in a recent survey--why let two people destroy it?

The fact is, trouble in the monarchy is not a new thing. It is the impatient culture in which it takes place today that threatens its justified existence. Charles II had open liaisons with several mistresses, Edward VII committed adultery with actress Lily Langtry, and of course, Henry VIII had a fondness for head-rolling.

The Economist points out that "on the death of George IV in 1830 The Times declared in an editorial that: 'There never was an individual less regretted by his fellow creatures.' Cartoonists such as Gilfray, Rowlandson and Cruickshank attacked the monarch in a manner which would look savage even today.' This intense criticism and lack of respect for the monarchy did not produce a serious, widespread consideration to sack it. Edward VIII's abdication crisis in 1936 might have provided some civil liberties rationale for abolition, but it did not. It was clear that the monarchy practiced discrimination in dismissing members of "the firm" for marrying whomever they chose.

In comparison to weighty issues like these, today's objections--that the multimedia scrutiny of the royals dredges up their human foibles--seem to be ridiculous reasons to consider trashing the crown.

The monarchy is a symbol of Britain's unity, its proud history, and a channel for popular support. As the official head of state, the sovereign imparts a non-partisan dignity to the running of the nation, a centerpiece to which all political parties are allied and respectful. The royal family are Britain's best ambassadors and diplomats, who take seriously their business to promote Britain's interests abroad.

Eagehot wrote in The English Constitution that the sovereign has "three rights--the right to be consulted, the right to encourage, the right to warn" her Parliament, the "efficient" part of government. She has the full force of law to refuse the passage of bills, and even if this power is vestigial, it is enough to supplement and reflect public opinion in keeping government responsible.

Abolishing the monarchy would open up multiple cans of worms all over the world. Excising a nation's head of state from its constitution is no easy matter. The absence of a monarch in the British constitution would lead inevitably to discussions of reform in the House of Lords, the electoral system, a new center of executive power in the Commons and a host of other special interests seeking an opportunity to shape the direction of the nation. Who knows where it would all end?

Around the world, in constitutional monarchies still relying on the British monarch as the nominal head of state, constitutions will have to be rewritten and new forms of government adopted. In non-Commonwealth nations, the very shock of royal abolition may raise the issue of throwing out other kings and queens, without regard for an objective review and evaluation.

The solution to public dissatisfaction with the House of Windsor? There are two options, both of which address the problems of the current royals while preserving the richness of a constitutional monarchical government. The first is to keep Queen Liz et al. in their present place, and serialize their trials and tribulations on BBC-1. In many ways the royals do satisfy our need for instant gratification--so why not acknowledge it and give them their own television series? "Melrose Place" and "90210" will finally have some stiff competition. After all, as the Economist points out, even Bagehot conceded that to expect the sovereign always to be "virtuous [is] not rational."

The second is to recognize that the monarchy is a good institution, but that the current occupants are somewhat substandard. Instead of a complete abolition, why not legislate a successionist battle for England's throne? We haven't had one of those for a long time. It would force Liz and Phil to get their children in line, lest they lose the crown jewels to some morally superior family. Prince Phillip has stated that his support of monarchical rule is not "a desperate attempt by a family to hold on to some sort of situation. Because that isn't the point. I don't think anyone would actively volunteer for this sort of job." Would he like to put that statement to the test? The House of Windsor thrashed by the House of Chung...one can only dream. His Majesty Patrick S. Chung '96 is a Crimson editor with his eye on Windsor Castle. His bi-weekly column appears on alternate Saturdays.