29 NOVEMBER 1997, Page 8

POLITICS

Why Tony Blair wants to protect the monarchy

BRUCE ANDERSON

The royal golden wedding celebrations were much less fraught and much more felicitous than would have seemed likely a few weeks earlier. The post-Princess of Wales hysteria appears to have died down; there are encouraging signs of a restored equilibrium in the public mood. But there was an interesting development last week, which tells us a lot about New Labour's attitude towards the constitution, and the political process.

If the golden jubilee had occurred ten years ago, it would have taken place in a political vacuum. The prime minister would have had a role in the festivities, but only a minor one, not far above the salt. It would have been quite clear what and whom we were celebrating. But Mr Blair does not play minor roles. Last week a casual observer might have wondered whether the PM was helping the Queen and Prince Philip to commemorate their 50 years of marriage, or whether they were helping him to celebrate the 202nd day of his pre- miership. Mr Blair was determined to make maximum use of the ceremonies, just as he insisted on reading the lesson at the Princess of Wales's funeral service.

Yet despite all that, and despite Mrs Blair's graceless behaviour during the Blairs' visit to Balmoral, well-founded reports indicate that though some members of the royal entourage feel that Peter Man- delson comes from another planet — an understandable judgment — the Queen herself likes Mr Blair, just as she enjoyed the company of his predecessor and proto- type Harold Wilson. Given the way that the new government has not only encroached on the royal prerogative but invaded the royal family's space, this may be a further indication of the recurrent lack of self- confidence which has characterised the Court's attitude to the Country for much of the past 70 years. Just as the 1945 election result was a near-mortal blow to the élan vital of the old landed/aristocratic order, the outcome of the first world war may have had a similar effect on those who advise monarchs. The crowds may still have been cheering, but not loudly enough to drown out the sound of crashing thrones. George V's reluctance to give sanctuary to his cousin the Tsar for fear that Nicholas II might bring the bacillus of bolshevism in his luggage was a first, shameful instance of this new, mistrustful mood. In 1935, when King George celebrated his silver jubilee, he was surprised as well as delighted to dis- cover how popular he was with his subjects.

Perhaps his predecessors have never been able to get over the surprise, which was why the Court of the 1960s was so ready to listen to facile advice from those who wanted the monarchy to modernise itself and become media-friendly. That wise and cynical fellow Bagehot, who may have been unmoved by the emotion of reverence but who understood its infrastructure, could have told them that a modernised monarchy was not merely a paradox but an oxymoron.

It is almost impossible to argue in favour of the monarchy, for allegiance is like reli- gious faith; one either has it or not: argu- ments are irrelevant. Indeed, true monar- chists are irritated by attempts to find utili- tarian excuses for the monarchy; they would almost rather not have a monarchy than one which was reduced to an out- station of the English Tourist Board. There is only one respectable argument to justify a monarchy, though it would probably not persuade anyone who had not already been swayed by the most profound impulses of heart, soul and marrow. Especially in a democratic age with a raucous mass media, there are two related dangers. The first is that politics will cease to be a limited, largely administrative activity and will become a focal point for intense emotions which ought to find an outlet — if at all in religion, sport or private life. This can produce not only mood-swings (cf. the Princess of Wales and Louise Woodward) but conflict and disorder. The second is that public life will become one-dimension- al and take place only in the present.

Monarchy can help to avert both dan- gers. Its cultist aspects can provide a harm- less and decorous outlet for emotion, while its antiquity should be a constant reminder that Britain is not only now, but history. That, however, is a conservative view of monarchy. As such, it is as unacceptable to Mr Blair as it is to traditional socialists.

Such socialists have honourable grounds for rejecting monarchy. Their case has two principal and linked aspects: the first is a desire to enlarge the scope of democracy; the second, to make a decisive break with history which, for most of those who had to endure it down the ages, was a history of scarcity, suffering, oppression and the denial of human dignity. Those who view history as an endless cry of pain and who believe that the sole purpose of politics ought to be to emancipate the human con- dition will naturally deplore an institution which romanticises the past while acknowl- edging the limits of the human condition. There is also, of course, a crude variant of the traditional socialist objection; one won- ders whether it might not have influenced Mrs Blair during her Liverpool childhood. The by-product of chippiness and envy, it objects to the royal family owning all those palaces and expecting ordinary people to defer to them. But it is possible to be a socialist republican without indulging in such demeaning vulgarity.

Mr Blair is not a traditional socialist, nor is he in the grip of envy. But he does want to make a decisive break with history, for non-socialist reasons. To him, history relates to an irrelevant era before he became Prime Minister. He is happy for public life to be lived in the present: his present. He has no objection to politics becoming a cult, as long as it is his cult. Hence his behaviour last week. Just as the sturgeon is a royal fish and the swan a royal bird, so public adulation used to be reserved for monarchs — but not in Tony Blair's new Britain. Today, no one is allowed to enjoy the people's adulation without sharing it with the people's prime minister. Whether it be a royal wedding anniversary or a royal funeral, Mr Blair intends to be a principal and conspicuous guest, and to milk the occasion for all that it is worth.

The Blair project is audacious, and never more so than in its dealings with the monarchy. The Prime Minister is behaving like a City predator unlocking value in a sleepy, old-fashioned business. He too has discovered an under-exploited firm whose political capital assets are potentially of enormous value, and he is determined to have them. Newspapers discovered long ago that royal stories boost circulation. Mr Blair believes that royal links can also win votes and thus help him in his drive for a political monopoly; his unrelenting struggle to marginalise his opponents, actual and potential. Since the death of the Princess of Wales, Mr Blair has been signalling his desire to protect the monarchy. It is increasingly clear that he is using 'protec- tion' in its underworld meaning.