Dyspeptic observers - and I count myself amongst them - might have felt a certain queasy churn at the sundry spangly feudalisms of Holyrood's royal opening yesterday. Grown men and women in tabards and bicornes, trumpet peals and pursuivants, the Duke of Hamilton tottering in as hereditary crown bearer, the ludicrous Royal Company of Archers - myrtle men, a bodyguard with bows - who creak along with stiff solemnity, barely able to preserve their own ponderous dignity, never mind the life of monarch against aggressors with access to post-Agincourt technology. God rot the lot of it, sneers my sour Jacobin side. Much of the discussion in today's papers has concerned the political contents of Alex Salmond's speech and its promise of a return to 1603, with a regal union under the House of Saxe-Coburg Gotha surviving the end of any political Union between England and Scotland. On his new (and pleasingly named) blog Mugwump, David Torrance argues that...
".... many Nats are not entirely comfortable with this monarchist Nationalism, and who can blame them? On a certain level, it’s absurd."
I intend to enlarge on this issue tomorrow - or early next week, as my spirits tend. For now, in the humble raiment of a sans-culotte, I'm feeling querulous and impatient with the dumb show of Holyrood's ridiculous little Westminster ceremonies. In timely fashion, this week I chanced across this track from Dick Gaughan's 1983 album A Different Sort of Love Song - Revolution. Written by Joseph Bovshover, Gaughan picked it up in American Labour Songs of the 19th Century and set it to music. Although I wouldn't endorse the thoughts in my more sober political moments, and am intensely skeptical about the capacity of revolutions (and for that matter, independence) to resolve all contradictions, I can eminently understand the pleasing fantasies of revolutionary obliteration Bovshover so vehemently set down, particularly in my present bilious Republican fettle. In point of fact, as I've grown older, I've lost a good deal of my vehemence about monarchy. It is the effete flummery that accompanies it, which is in many respects more intolerable than the bare fact of constitutional kingship. Now and again, however, the embers of spent wrath rekindle... Vive la République Écossaise!
An anachronism that you would not invent.
ReplyDeleteAnd yet a good, organically developed constitutional settlement to the Head of State question - something that can, strangely, rise above day to day politics.
A personification of the nation.
Continuity and Change.
Something that can perhaps do the job better than something manufactured.
A bit of ceremony can be flummery but symbolism and ceremony can be important language.
King Alex understands this better than anyone.
I am a great believer in the Tudor settlement of sovereignty through parliament.
I say no to regicide - as long as I can be a citizen not a subject! :)
Liberté, éckalité, fraternité!
ReplyDeleteThere is a certain affection for Liz even amongst us hardened Republicans, even Phil the Greek has a certain car crash charm.
There is none whatsover for Big Ears with his toothpaste squeezing retinue of forelock tuggers.
The Republic will come when he attempts to mount the throne...
Vive la republique (and it can't come fast enough although our own de Valera reconstituted in Alexander Salmond - an intriguingly apt forename for and in these interesting constitutional times - seems to be playing a canny, long game in order to check-mate the more rabid, flag-waving, "Butcher's Apron" kind of utopian and "irredentist" type of BritNat unionist: Cutting them neatly off of their crown jewels, as it were, much to the frustrated disgust of the UK "Tillygraph's" thunderer, Alan "Connor Cruise O'Brien" Cochrane - painfully interesting times for some).
ReplyDeleteLa Vielle Couille
Vive la republique (and it can't come fast enough although our own de Valera reconstituted in Alexander Salmond - an intriguingly apt forename for and in these interesting constitutional times - seems to be playing a canny, long game in order to check-mate the more rabid, flag-waving, "Butcher's Apron" kind of utopian and "irredentist" type of BritNat unionist: Cutting them neatly off of their crown jewels, as it were, much to the frustrated disgust of the UK "Tillygraph's" thunderer, Alan "Connor Cruise O'Brien" Cochrane - painfully interesting times for some).
ReplyDeleteLa Vielle Couille
I see no reason for the monarchy to remain in the event that Scotland gained its independence. She can't be a personification of the nation, like Hobbes Leviathan. She represents union and is nothing more than a figurehead even then. She does not and her heirs will not, reign as sovereign rulers. They sit and rubber stamp what her "government" does in return for financial support via the civil list. Will an independent Scotland have it's own version of a civil list, paying for the upkeep of her estates here? That's not going to go down well.
ReplyDeleteNo, if Scotland does break from the UK, then it has to be a clean break.
GHmltn,
ReplyDeleteI've nothing against ritual and ceremony, per se. Although my younger self felt a blunt impatience with that sort of thing, I've come to see the value such ceremonials can have. There's no need to be a dreary, joyless and materially-minded. Performance can be fun and meaningful. For all that, I'm not willing to certify all such ceremonies as Good Things. I'd argue it matters what they symbolise - and it is on this level my Jacobin side revolts against some aspects of Holyrood's recent opening ritual.
I also don't have a great degree of sympathy for the idea that Westminster constitutionalism is "organically developed". The work of many hands, the compromised legacy of a trimming state - certainly - but I wouldn't want to make a virtue of it!
*Ahem* In case the authorities come and scoop me up like Thomas Muir, I should also emphasise - I am categorically not proposing that Scotland adopts a policy of democratic Regicide...
Conan,
ReplyDeleteI've heard that sentiment expressed before. Is it long usage and historical association that lends Lizzie her charm, I wonder?
LPW
ReplyDeleteA lot of it is to do with the fact that so far as the media in this country (the UK) is concerned she is off limits, partly due to her age (ie she's now elderly and her, er, indiscretions, happened in a more deferential era), and partly due to her constitutional position.
If her personal life had been subjected to the same level of scrutiny as that of her offspring , and indeed her sister, then her public image would be rather different.
Ultimately, it's irrelevant and if the Scots want a king or queen thingymajig then so be it.
ReplyDeleteI, on the other hand would prefer a republic.
A referendum on the monarchy would be fine by me.
Still, independence is what's important not the baubles that are attached to it.
The Advocates of Edinburgh might be grateful for a way out of dressing up.
ReplyDeleteYou'd think their political masters would've taken note and not followed them.
Do the political class think participation and interest will be promoted by a one day opening gceremony?
Independence will be the time to invent some brand new traditions.
terrence
ReplyDeleteYes, what is this ridiculous wiggery and cloakery.
Wear a decent suit, it's the 21st century.
Maybe they're trying to wangle a clothing allowance.
ReplyDeleteterrence, Scottish republic,
ReplyDeleteI'm sure the freelancers at the Scottish Bar would dearly love for someone to fork over cash for their sundry wearables. There may be able to deduct some of their expenses against tax - it has been an age since I made any study of the area. That said, I suspect Ede and Ravenscroft would feel the pain of abolishing gown and peruke. According to the company, the kit costs your freshly-called advocate £549 for the wig alone, not to mention the other bits and pieces.
They may celebrate if they take silk as QCs - but it'll set back the individual in question over £800.
An expensive form of dress-up, it is.