The past few years have been turbulent for the British Royal Family. A slew of controversies, from the links between Prince Andrew and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein, to the departure of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle and their subsequent accusations of experiencing racism within the 'Firm', have led to increased questioning among the young in particular about what the monarchy is for and why it exists in an age of democracy and representation. The death of Prince Philip yesterday, the man who dutifully stood two paces behind the Queen for over seventy years and did more than anyone to make the monarchs visible and accessible to the public, will plausibly only galvanise such questions once the mourning period has faded.
Though many monarchists may recoil at the question being asked at all, it serves an important purpose not only in testing the resilience of the nation's institutions, but the clarity of people's understanding of their usefulness. The Royal Family is not elected or directly accountable to its people, nor should it be, but it cannot persist unless the people feel proud to be represented by them and that the values they embody are the right ones. In this, the allegations surrounding Prince Andrew's close friendship with Jeffrey Epstein, and the Palace seemingly closing ranks to protect him, have been particularly corrosive. If the public is unsure why the monarchy remains important in spite of any controversies surrounding it, either the people in charge of maintaining our institutions, or the institutions themselves, are not doing their job. In this respect, while the death of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, may be the first step in a period of transition for the monarchy, the remembrance of his remarkable life may also serve to remind the British people of its immense value to the nation and the world.
To answer the question of why the monarchy remains so important, we should consider what would be lost without it. The most immediately impactful effect would be that the nation would lose its most internationally esteemed source of soft power and diplomacy. Meeting the monarch is a high honour for any international representative and a way of establishing cordial relations outside the traditional boundaries of politics. Representatives and elected rulers come and go, but the monarchy is constant, a symbolic representation of the principles of steadfastness and decorum which have long underpinned the British national character.
For visiting dignitaries, it is a sign of them being welcomed not just by the representatives of the nation, but the nation itself. Such symbolic ceremony carries immense importance in all forms of human relations. Consider the tradition of world leaders bringing each other gifts. Do any of them need the trinkets that are handed over? No. But per the Ancient Greek gifting tradition or the Native American potlach, it symbolises a mutual extending of hands and sharing of what one holds dear. That we have an institution outside politics which is held in such high global esteem is a service of incalculable worth to Britain's global standing and its capacity for diplomatic engagement on personal rather than political terms.
The Queen and her late husband are best thought of in this regard as the world's most dedicated and accomplished diplomats. The Commonwealth of Nations, a voluntary and equal association which has grown to encompass over fifty nations, is the shining example of this and a perfect demonstration of Britain turning the vestiges of its imperialist past - though not all the Commonwealth nations are former colonies - into something shared and positive. Though it is sometimes said that the Queen and Prince Philip reigned over a period of unprecedented national decline due to the loss of Empire, their contributions in formalising and maintaining the Commonwealth have ensured the story is not of decline, but change for the better. The monarchy may be a symbol of endurance, but in reflecting the state of the nation, the lifelong service of the Queen and Philip has quietly and with great care enabled it to transform and modernise.
On a less obvious level, losing the monarchy would turn Britain into a republic, which would place the Prime Minister not just in charge of governing the country, but ruling it. Having a constitutional monarchy distributes that power so no one person is able to annoint himself as a single, Emperor-like figurehead. The reigning monarch is the nation's true Head of State, but his power is entirely ceremonial. The Prime Minister is at the top of the structure exerting actual power, but is always a level below the monarch in title, a constant reminder of his ultimate subservience to the nation.
Does this make a meaningful difference in practice? Perhaps not. Boris Johnson has proven himself happy to tear up the good chap principles for his own political gain. However, even if it is increasingly inefficient in a time of ever more unscrupulous politicians, it is reassuring to have that small check on the egos of the nation's leaders. It also demonstrates how the UK's relationship with power and the law differs from the American one: the American relationship is individualistic and antagonistic, whereas the British one is about doing what is right for its own sake, rather than just under the threat of law. When cynical opportunists like Johnson, and his former aide, Dominic Cummings, show themselves willing to tear up those unwritten rules, it reveals the failings at the heart of their character and inspires introspection about where our political system is going wrong if such people are able to rise to high office.
The monarchy, too, will not always be embodied by such responsible and moral representatives as the Queen and Philip. The allegations against Prince Andrew, and the Palace seemingly covering for him, speak to that. In recent times, there have also been accusations that Prince Charles has overstepped his mark in interfering in London planning processes, and that the Palace has occasionally pushed for laws to be altered behind the scenes in order to protect its wealth. The seriousness of all these allegations cannot be ignored and should be properly investigated. Where there is cause to do so, changes must made to ensure they can never happen again. It is absolutely correct that the British public question the role of the monarchy in public life when such incidents come to light.
Even the most ardent Royalist cannot point to the monarchy as a perfect institution, or one without serious shortcomings - shortcomings which undermine its long-term survival if unchecked. Like all systems and institutions, the Royal Family consists of flawed, sometimes stupid human beings who do not always live up to the ideal hoist upon them. Fallibility is part of the human condition and power and influence have a way of exacerbating the strengths and weaknesses of an individual's character. For the Queen, Prince Philip and William and Kate, it shaped them into exemplars of dignity, self-sacrifice and tireless public service. In Prince Andrew, it brought out severe failings in his judgment, his self-restraint and perhaps worse.
Many may feel that the disgrace of the Prince Andrew affair is
greater than the value of the monarchy as a whole, and it is their right
as British citizens to make that assessment. As with any system of power, the expectation should not be of perfection, but whether its flaws are sufficiently grave to cancel out the good justifying its existence. The monarchy, I would argue, is and has been on balance an overwhelming force for good in representating the nation, not only in sharing our values and offering the hand of friendship on the global stage, but at the local level as well. Prince Philip's Duke of Edinburgh Award has helped millions of children discover new skills, develop confidence in themselves and embody the values of the nation which the Duke himself adopted during his early schooling in Scotland: self-reliance, stoicism, perseverance, humour and humility. His Design Award has been similarly influential in supporting the nation's aspiring engineers, technologists and designers: previous winners include James Dyson and Terence Conran. Without the weight of public accountability on his back, Philip was able to dedicate much of his life to being a pioneering and apolitical voice for once-unfashionable causes such as conservation, environmentalism and mediation between the sciences and religion.
Philip's life story has been told ad nauseam over the past twenty-four hours. If there is such a thing as the 'British Dream', he surely embodies it. He was a man who overcame a lonely and stateless childhood, born on a kitchen table in Greece and separated from both parents - his mother through mental illness, his father through abandonment - before going on to fight for his adopted country in war and then serve it as unwaveringly loyal consort to its Queen. Initially viewed as an outsider by the Palace, he overame institutional parochialism to find acceptable channels to satify his yearning for productivity and accomplishment without taking the spotlight away from the woman to whom he was so devoted. He was a man who understood his place and made it emphatically his own.
In this Philip represented two seemingly contradictory parts of the nation's character: the rugged, sharply humoured modernist striving to be at the forefront of progress in the world, but also the traditionalist pillar of self-sacrifice and order, forging his own path while resolutely remaining within the lines of the rules and traditions on which the nation's strength depends. How the monarchy endures and what shape it will take when Prince Charles becomes sovereign remains to be seen. That is a question for a later time. For now, the extraordinary life and accomplishments of Prince Philip, a man who, quietly and without desire for celebration, dedicated his years to strengthening his nation and its people, only illuminates how tremendous an asset the monarchy can be. The depth of sadness at his death reflects the height of his triumphs in life.
