After the Crowning

My good friend, Charles Coulombe, looks at the recent Coronation and muses on what it might mean for Britain, the world, and monarchy.

From The European Conservative

By Charles A. Coulombe

“Germany ceased to have Kings when the Germans ceased to be a Kingly people.” Such could be said of any nation in Europe, or her daughter nations across the seas. Let us pray and work to deserve better than the rulers we now have.

There is an evil which I have seen under the sun, as an error which proceedeth from the ruler: folly is set in great dignity, while the wise and worthy sit in low place. I have seen slaves upon horses, and princes walking as slaves upon the earth. Ecclesiastes, x. 5–7

As all the world knows, Charles, third of the name, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and of his other Realms and Territories, was crowned King this past May 6th. Oceans of commentary—pro and con, and ranging from the insightful to the idiotic—poured forth before and after the event, and shall continue to do so. Having closely followed the career of the former Prince of Wales for over three decades, this writer feels compelled to throw in his own two cents—not merely about the coronation itself, but what it all might mean for monarchy in the Commonwealth and across Europe.

It was very fashionable for decades to denigrate the former Prince of Wales as anything from a moron to a weirdo; the breakup of his marriage with Princess Diana and his relationship with Camilla were additionally used to attack him by press lord Rupert Murdoch (himself no paragon of marital virtue). As against this tide of calumny and detraction were the actual things the prince said and did in pursuit of his goals. These were well expressed in a letter he wrote to Tom Shebbeare, director of the Prince’s Trust, on January 21, 1993:

I have no ‘political’ agenda—only a desire to see people achieve their potential; to be decently housed in a decent, civilised environment that respects the cultural and vernacular character of the nation; to see this country’s real talents (especially inventiveness and engineering skills) put to best use in the best interests of the country and the world (at present they are being disgracefully wasted through lack of co-ordination and strategic thinking); to retain and value the infrastructure and cultural integrity of rural communities (where they still exist) because of the vital role they play in the very framework of the nation and the care and management of the countryside; to value and nurture the highest standards of military integrity and professionalism, as displayed by our armed forces, because of the role they play as an insurance scheme in case of disaster; and to value and retain our uniquely special broadcasting standards which are renowned throughout the world. The final point is that I want to roll back some of the more ludicrous frontiers of the ’60s in terms of education, architecture, art, music, and literature, not to mention agriculture! Having read this through, no wonder they want to destroy me, or get rid of me…!

He has continued to push this agenda in the decades since, and this writer for one cannot help but wonder how His Majesty will attempt to forward it within the constitutional restraints every British monarch has had to work within since 1688—and even more since 1783. In that year, the American Revolution not only created a new country, but shattered George III’s attempts at constitutional reform. The victory of the rebels in the colonies and the Whig Oligarchs at home resulted in a situation aptly summed up by historian Eric Nelson that henceforth, “on one side of the ocean there would be a Monarchy without a King, and on the other, a King without a Monarchy.” It is this situation that Charles III has inherited from his mother.

The coronation itself, despite certain elements this writer could have done without, was by and large a reaffirmation of the values that Christian monarchy has always stood for. After taking the oath, the King offered a prayer of his own composition: “God of compassion and mercy whose Son was sent not to be served but to serve, give grace that I may find in thy service perfect freedom and in that freedom knowledge of thy truth. Grant that I may be a blessing to all thy children, of every faith and belief, that together we may discover the ways of gentleness and be led into the paths of peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” Altogether, it struck me as I watched on television that it would be difficult—taking together the sentiments expressed in letter and prayer—to find an individual in public life with more benevolent intentions toward his peoples. 

Following this, the Archbishop of Canterbury bestowed the sword of offering upon the King with these words: 

With this sword do justice, stop the growth of iniquity, protect the holy Church of God and all people of goodwill, help and defend widows and orphans, restore the things that are gone to decay, maintain the things that are restored, punish and reform what is amiss, and confirm what is in good order: that doing these things you may be glorious in all virtue; and so faithfully serve our Lord Jesus Christ in this life, that you may reign for ever with him in the life which is to come. Amen. 

I could not help but ponder how much better off the King’s subjects would be if their new sovereign really had the power to do all these things. It also struck me how closely this formula resembled that uttered by the Archbishop of Esztergom when he gave the sword to Bl. Karl at his 1916 coronation in Budapest: 

Accept this sword through the hands of bishops, who unworthy, yet consecrated by the authority of the holy apostles, impart it to you by divine ordinance for the defense of the faith of the holy Church and remember the words of the psalmist, who prophesied, saying, ‘Gird yourself with your sword upon your thigh, O most mighty one, that by it you may exercise equity, powerfully destroying the growth of iniquity and protect the holy Church of God and his faithful people. Pursue false Christians, no less than the unfaithful, help and defend widows and orphans, restore those things which have fallen into decay and maintain those things thus restored, avenge injustice and confirm good dispositions, that doing this, you may be glorious in the triumph of justice and may reign forever with the Savior of the world, whose image you bear, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, forever and ever. Amen.

The similarity between the two formulae comes from the fact that both rites are of Catholic origin, and each reflects what medieval Catholics demanded of and hoped from their monarchs.

But these words were said to Blessed Emperor-King Karl I of Austria-Hungary with some realistic hope that he might actually be able to achieve these high goals; we, living a century later, know that treason by so many of his subjects, betrayal by his German allies, and the implacable opposition of Woodrow Wilson would doom his attempts to do so. When Canterbury’s archbishop uttered them to Charles III of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and his other Realms and Territories, it was not and could not be so. Bl. Karl’s predecessor, Franz Joseph, memorably described the duty rendered upon him by his coronation as “protecting my people from their politicians.” Where Karl tried with might and main to do this—and in the end lost his life by so doing—it is unthinkable that the new King should do so, whether in London, Ottawa, Canberra, Wellington, or any of his other capitals. The politicians and their masters, that is to say, Parliament, are sovereign, and he and his have reigned solely at their sufferance for centuries. These chains are the more insufferable when comparing His Majesty’s qualities to those of the vast majority of his mother’s prime ministers. Save for a few exceptions (Churchill, Thatcher, Diefenbaker, and Menzies, perhaps), Charles III towers above them in terms of personal qualities and—as the notorious ‘Black Spider’ memos showed—caring for the average subject.

But it would be unfair to blame only the British and Commonwealth political oligarchs. Every constitutional monarchy in Europe—Spain, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg—offer similar patterns. Sooner or later, the monarchs lost their powers to protect their peoples from elected officials who claimed loyalty to both sovereign and people, but in reality, served neither. Gustav V of Sweden clashed with his government over the 1914 Courtyard speech; Denmark’s Christian X with his in the Easter Controversy of 1920; Belgian King Baudouin I during the abortion issue in 1990, and most recently Luxembourg’s Grand Duke Henri with his ‘Christian’ Democratic prime minister on euthanasia. Each of these ended in defeat for the monarch involved, and so was hailed as a victory for “democracy.” 

In each case, it was the monarch who was objectively speaking right, and ‘his’ government wrong. The gradual and continual erosion of what are called the reserve powers in these monarchies correlate with the growth of democracy. In reality, this means the removal of any restraint whatsoever from those who have learned to manipulate the electoral process and the citizenry it supposedly serves. In executive republics, the presidential veto is a constant threat that helps to ensure that legislation is likelier to serve the populace, but it is wielded for party political considerations. If the royal assent was not a given but something which could only be won by proving to the sovereign that the measure was worthwhile, the quality of legislation would improve wildly.

Looking at those countries in Europe which have lost their monarchies, one sees two realities. The first—apart from those who died for their people, such as Charles I, Louis XVI, Nicholas II, and Bl. Karl himself—is the long line of monarchs who chose exile over allowing bloody civil wars to be waged on their behalf. Such were France’s Charles X, Sweden-Norway’s Oscar II, Portugal’s Manoel II, Spain’s Alfonso XIII, Italy’s Umberto II, Romania’s Michael, Belgium’s Leopold III, and most recently, Greece’s Constantine II. Of course, it might seem to some that such conflict might have been better than what eventuated in those countries afterwards; but while a professional in political life might make such a calculation, it is much harder for someone trained from birth to think of his subjects as his children. Certainly the bloodshed in the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, the Jacobite Risings, the counter-revolutions across Europe from 1789 to 1815, those of 1848, and the Miguelist and Carlist wars might give pause to those in whose cause such blood might once again be shed.

This leads to the second consideration. Many of today’s European royals do not have the purest lifestyles—something their opponents gleefully point out, even though they are often in favour of far deeper vices. I would be the last to defend such aberrations. Truly, if you compare the current crop to the many saints among their ancestors, many are certainly found wanting.

But that would be an unfair comparison. Far more realistic is how they stack up against the current crop of politicos feeding at the public tough in our various countries—those who locked us in our rooms, masked us, and threatened us with the law if we refused dangerous vaccinations. Both claimants to the French throne—the Legitimist Duke of Anjou and the Orleanist Count of Paris—sided with the Yellow Vests and were against same-sex ‘marriage.’ Can anyone deny that either would be a huge improvement in the Elysée Palace over Macron? Much the same could be said about the current claimants over the resident of any presidential palace across the continent, from Lisbon to Moscow. Even Budapest cannot be seen in isolation from Vienna, Prague, Ljubljana, Bratislava, and Zagreb. Restoration would be Orbán’s crowning achievement, so to speak. 

A much sadder comparison, of course, would be that of the subjects of the great monarchs of the past with their latter-day descendants, that is to say, our own precious selves. Our fathers built the great countries of Europe alongside the ancestors of today’s royals; but the words of Moeller van den Broeck haunt me: “Germany ceased to have Kings when the Germans ceased to be a Kingly people.” Such could be said of any nation in Europe, or her daughter nations across the seas. Let us pray and work to deserve better than the rulers we now have. When the bicentennial of the last French Coronation comes along in two years, perhaps that anniversary will find us in better shape. For that matter, as Charles III is the first King since 1685 to be anointed with Chrism that Catholics and Orthodox believe to be valid, let us pray that he is able to live up to the proud words of the coronation. And let us be ready to support him in the inevitable conflict with the oligarchs if he does so.