POLITICS

The Palace ought to trust the people, which is not the same as leaking to the press

BRUCE ANDERSON

The royal family ought to take counsel from Tony Blair. A week ago, the Fabian Society published a pamphlet on the monarchy, which had obviously been writ- ten by a closet republican. The author did not call for outright abolition; he merely wanted to strip the Crown of all dignity and mystique. Such a Fabian monarchy could stumble on as a sub-Scandinavian tourist attraction, but it would be unlikely to sur- vive for long; there would be no point.

Mr Blair made an instant response to the Fabians' proposals: he rejected them. He was emphatic that they were not part of Labour's policy-making process, and never would be. As usual with Mr Blair, this tells us less about the strength of his convictions than about his assessment of public opin- ion. He was once interviewed by Christo- pher Hitchens, who asked him about the monarchy. In reply, Mr Blair delivered a faultless set of conventional pieties — fol- lowed by an enormous wink.

So Mr Blair is at best a winking royalist, but he does understand opinion polls. They tell him that, despite its recent travails, the monarchy has deep roots in public esteem and that it would be political suicide for him to challenge it. The Crown's advisers are true royalists; if only they shared Tony Blair's confident assessment of public opinion.

It is doubly difficult to discuss the monar- chy. Any loyal subject ought to feel uneasy about discussing matters pertaining to his Sovereign, as if She were a mere political phenomenon. He ought to wish that there were nothing to discuss, and everything to revere. Nor is there much point in talking. In most discussions, there is at least a theo- retical possibility that some of the partici- pants will persuade others to alter their views. But no monarchist is going to change his mind, and how could someone be per- suaded into monarchism who does not already believe in it from the depths of his being? There are rational arguments for the monarchy, just as there are rational arguments for the existence of God. Both are irrelevant; faith alone counts.

But we live in an age which has lost touch with fundamentals, just as it has lost inter- est in — and knowledge of — history-, lost all sense of awe at the glory of the British constitution. In better times, Whigs could bask in complacency, confident in historical inevitability. Tories would be more scepti- cal, with a sharper sense of historical con-

tingency. They understood, in Oakeshott's words, that all civilisation was at bottom a collective dream. The Whigs were certain of the beneficence of constitutional evolu- tion. Tories had no such certainty, but they were content with the outcome, so far. These debates were conducted with high seriousness. That is no longer the case. Somewhere between the loss of Empire and the encroachment of Europe, we British have lost our sense of manifest des- tiny. Having lost confidence in our history, some of us want to tear it up.

That creates problems for the Monarch's advisors, most of whom would regard it as axiomatic that the monarchy should never find itself at odds with the public mood. It may also be that the loss of confidence in Court circles predates the nation's post-war problems. In his life of George V, Kenneth Rose records that the King was reluctant to provide asylum for Nicholas II and his fam- ily, fearing that to do so would undermine the British monarchy. In 1935, during his Sil- ver Jubilee, George V was surprised to find out how popular he was among his subjects.

The clatter of tumbling thrones after 1918 did not have much resonance with the British public, most of whom dismissed it as merely foreigners up to no good as usual. But to the Court, the monarchies in ques- tion were not foreigners but relations, part of a Europe-wide nexus. One can under- stand why George V found it hard to believe that the British monarchy could remain serenely immune from the general chaos: the apex of the pyramid can be a precarious vantage point.

It is possible that the Court's confidence never quite recovered after the first world war. As a result, Bagehot's warnings about the dangers of daylight were forgotten. In the Sixties and Seventies, there was the relentless appeasement of modernity, espe- cially the media, which arrived fawning but stayed to intrude and violate.

Then there were the Princesses. No monarch since Henry VIII would have been able to deal with them. They and the media were an almost lethal combination.

It is inevitable that after such turmoil, there should be some thinking. But to judge by this week's press reports, the wrong type of thinking is taking place. Some of the Prince of Wales's staff seem to believe that the monarchy can be discussed as a marketing exercise, dressing up banali- ties in business school jargon.

There is a villain involved; a man who has done more damage to the monarchy than anyone else this century: the Prince of Wales's private secretary, Commander Richard Aylard. Profoundly unhelpful biographies, television interviews, newspa- per serialisations: Commander Aylard has been responsible for nearly all the worst mistakes. He has that lethal combination: energy and lack of judgment — the sort of character whom Clausewitz would have had shot, lest the energies won him positions in which the lack of judgment would have dire consequences. They have: it has.

There is one other problem which will have to be tackled at some stage: the news- papers. If matters go on as they have been, the British press will destroy the British monarchy, by grinding it between the mill- stones of ridicule and persecution. Eventu- ally, and in the context of a general law of privacy, the Crown will have to be protect- ed by laws with teeth of steel. But that will have to wait for the restoration of calm, which is why this week's publicity is so unhelpful. It is folly to imply that the suc- cession and even the dynasty itself — that is what a change to the Act of Settlement could imply — are now in a melting-pot.

After the anni honibiles — the years the Princesses ate — the monarchy needs quiet: months with no news from Bucking- ham Palace or any other palace; months when recent memories fade, so that the sempiternal loyalties and affections of the British people can reassert themselves. During the VE-Day celebrations, the crowds gathered outside Buckingham Palace, just as their parents had done on VE-Day itself. Those continuities tell us about the true public mood, if it were allowed to settle.

We are approaching a millennium, which on her current form will also see the Queen Mother's 100th birthday. In 2000, even this post-historical generation will surely look back over British history and see the Crown in its true perspective, a golden thread run- ning through the centuries: the essence of Britishness. They may also remember that our line of monarchs is approaching its own millennium; its first millennium, that is. So there is no reason why the Palace should not trust the people, as long as it divests itself of advisers who equate trusting the people with leaking to the press.