Defending the Monarchy, a Vital Institution

An excellent, well reasoned essay on the reasons why a monarchy is superior to a presidential republic. My thanks to my friend, Angela Goudman, for bringing it to my attention.

From the National Post

Richard Whittall: Despite the costly and almost entirely ceremonial trappings of the Royal Family, the monarchy serves a subtle-yet-vital function

My father, like many fathers, developed and honed a set of ideas in his 20s that, decades later, he continues to espouse to anyone and everyone who will listen – all as though he just came up with them.  

Though I don’t agree with all or even most of them – no, I don’t think boys in particular are underserved by our education system; yes, I do think it’s important to replace the sink sponge more than once a year – there is one idea of his that I have recently come around on: that the monarchy is a vital institution that we must preserve at all costs.

Now before you roll your eyes in anticipation of another anglophilic screed urging you to celebrate the union of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle that ends in a hearty “Vivat Regina Elizabetha!”, dear old dad had a fairly radical – radical for him at least – take on this hoary subject. It goes something like this: despite the costly and almost entirely ceremonial trappings of the Royal Family – the palaces, the never-ending world tours and, of course, the extravagant televised nuptials for princes who will almost certainly never sit upon any throne – the monarchy serves a subtle-yet-vital function in modern parliamentary democracies. Their primary purpose is to separate the symbolism and idealism inherent in the role of head of state from the more banal role of chief executive.

What does this mean, exactly?

The “head of state” is a public persona. Their duty is to represent the national unity and legitimacy of a sovereign state. They are the living symbolic guarantor of the social contract, jurisprudence and the rule of law. They are the powerful symbolic “god-daddy” that holds the messy, diverse human conglomerates known as nations together. Meanwhile, the head of government is a mere politician who either directs legislation or, in the case of prime ministers, helps craft it.

Michel Foucault reflects on the origins of the symbolic function of the head of state in Discipline and Punish. “The monarchy presented itself as a referee,” he writes, “a power capable of putting an end to war, violence and pillage, and saying no to these struggles and private feuds.” Though monarchs could be and often were despotic tyrants, they were also public protectors and therefore commanded a measure of respect that went beyond fear of reprisals. They provided some measure of social and institutional stability. Though the Age of Revolutions spanning the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries was supposed to remove some or all of this stabilizing power from the monarch and give it directly to the people via representative democracy, it critically did not eliminate the symbolic role and function of the head of state. In fact, Foucault’s description of the role of the monarch could easily apply to symbolism and pageantry of the modern Republican president.  

And therein we find one of the most critical flaws of republicanism: it is not good for democracies when the same person serves as both a symbolic head of state and the chief executive of a nation. It muddies the democratic waters.

Consider commonwealth nations like Canada or the United Kingdom, where the role of head of state and legislative executive are sharply distinct. No one bats an eye when Prime Minister Justin Trudeau or Theresa May is pilloried endlessly online by the public, or in the House of Commons by opposition members or in the newspaper by a columnist. They are legislators, elected public servants who have a job to do and must be held accountable for it, both in the media and at the polls. By contract, mocking the Queen is still considered taboo by a not insignificant number of people in both nations, and is certainly out of the question for members of government. For the same reason, it would arguably feel very odd, if not downright repulsive, to have photos of either Prime Minister in their respective federal government buildings instead of the Queen. This is the symbolism of the head of state at play.

It is not good for democracies when the same person serves as both a symbolic head of state and the chief executive of a nation.

 

Now, compare this to the United States, where the president – whose photo you do see in federal buildings – carries a regal aura despite the fact they also direct policy on farm subsidies and corporate tax loopholes. Though an elected politician who runs on specific and often banal policy platforms, the president is expected by their fellow Americans to maintain a certain deportment because they are also head of state, and when they fail to act appropriately it can become a matter of national crisis.

This doesn’t mean the president is immune from criticism. However, the difference is that hatred for Donald Trump goes far beyond his legislative accomplishments, with talk of how he has “sullied the Oval Office” by not acting like a president is “supposed to.” When people criticize Trump, it is often less about what he has or has not accomplished as a politician, and more about how he doesn’t “behave like a president should,” or how he “doesn’t respect the office.” Incidental matters of Trump’s personal behaviour often take up far more public attention and concern than his government’s legislative accomplishments or failures, which affect the lives of millions of Americans. And even then, there are some among the constituents of the United States who would imagine any criticism of the executive branch to be unpatriotic.

Democracy in practice should be about the dirty, boring, ephemeral stuff: wonkish debates, grassroots advocacy, the peaceful transition of power between sometimes fundamentally opposed ideologies. But for that kind of democracy to work, you need a permanent locus of power with universal assent in the form of a head of state. Some nations achieve this through a monarch; others with another, higher elected role, like a chancellor or a president who oversees a prime minister.

But to my mind – and it must be said, my father’s – it serves democracies best if the two roles are distinct, providing government legitimacy while focusing attention on what legislators do and not whether they are suitably dignified while doing it.