Embedded Files
Volume 3 | Issue 7
Article by Erin Guillory. Edited by Liz Goodwin. Additional research by Liz Goodwin.
To me, it seems it is an exciting time to be a Brit. The shops are fully stocked with the Union Jack, the streets are criss-crossed by delighted children singing the national hymn ‘God Save the Queen’, and all eyes are on the Commonwealth. The dearth of pride aroused by the monarchy is astounding, coming from the perspective of a nation that is explicitly non-monarchical. It is interesting to see the ‘traditions’ of the Jubilee: the ‘Jubitilla’ as the Twitterers have termed it, the magnificent concert with the best of Britain’s talent, glorious church services at Westminster and St. Paul’s, and of course the smattering of paraphernalia scattered about every shop, home, restaurant, pub and sidewalk.
None of this is particularly new. We have seen it all in the wedding of Charles and Diana in 1981, Queen’s Golden Jubilee (2002), and Prince William’s wedding to Kate last year. Had we been privy to earlier generations, we would also have seen these traditions practiced in celebration of the Queen’s many wedding anniversaries, her Silver Jubilee (she celebrated 25 years in 1977), her coronation (1952), her wedding (1947), George VI’s funeral (1952) and coronation (1937), George V’s funeral (1936) and coronation (1910), Edward VII’s funeral (1910) and coronation (1901), Victoria’s funeral (1901) and her Golden and Diamond jubilees (1887 and 1897, respectively). Prior to these last two, the monarchy didn’t have such a rich historical tradition bound up in popularity, though it did wield a formal, legitimate power that it can no longer claim. There is a remarkable shift at the end of the nineteenth-century which enshrined the British monarchy in a framework of tradition, jubilee and celebration, ingratiating them with the public in a deified way, and made them central to definitions of patriotism. From a monarchy of political efficacy to one of populist patriotism, there was a significant swing in the fates of the monarchs in the post-industrial world.
It’s difficult to make any comparison to earlier jubilees, as there have been so few. Victoria was the first British monarch to celebrate a Diamond Jubilee, making Elizabeth II only the second. George III (b. 1738, r. 1760-1820) was about nine months shy of his own Diamond, but there were no great celebrations for his Golden Jubilee. James VI of Scotland reigned from 1567-1625 (57 years) with no great celebrations of his monarchy, nor patriotic shows across the lands. Counting Elizabeth II and Victoria, only 6 British monarchs have reigned more than 50 years in all of Britain’s history.
One explanation of the ‘Jubilee Phenomenon’ is the intersection of education increasing and political efficacy decreasing, happening within the spiritual vacuum of post-industrialization. Even within Victoria’s own reign, one can see the decline in her explicit political involvement. From her early days, tied to her first Prime Minister, when her choice of maids artificially extended Melbourne’s government, to her later days as the figure-head Empress of India, longest reigning monarch and personification of Britain’s continuity, strength and morals, Victoria’s public involvement was less about explicit, political power, and more about public perception of the government. In her early reign, she was contained, physically and in newsprint, within London, near Parliament, but in her later reign, propaganda and Jubilee accoutrements brought her into every house and town in Britain. Overlaying this with the rising education levels throughout Britain’s classes and their own enlightenment, reflected in the 1884 Reform Act which began to enfranchise the working classes, one sees a call for more representational legitimacy in government, not a monarchy.
Why retain the monarchy then? In the face of democracy and populism, why keep one of the oldest, least representative forms of governance? In the wake of secularization in Britain, brought about by industrialization, there was a vacuum of sentiment which needed to be filled. Britons filled this void with two things: football and monarchy. Sentiment for each of these things has effectually deified them, giving them such monumental importance that actual monuments have been built in their honour. Nearly every town in Britain has at least one statue, fountain or road dedicated to Queen Victoria. Statues often recall Hellenistic iconography, especially the imagery of Britannia/Athena. They also re-emphasize her continuity through objects which have existed for the last 115 years, and will undoubtedly continue to be maintained for hundreds more. These monuments are examples of traditions created to ‘house’ the monarchy, so to speak, or at least promote the continuation of the monarchy.
Between 1887 and 1897, proponents of the monarchy- primarily out of the Tory party- created elaborate customs, music and events which came to define ‘Britishness’. Victoria suddenly symbolized the British people, the Empire and Commonwealth, strength, continuity, morality, loyalty and the promise of hope to a people in economic decline. Suddenly it was unpatriotic to wish poorly of the Queen, or to want the monarchy to be ended. This extended from Victoria, through the subsequent generations to Elizabeth II today. Despite budget cuts and conservative economics, in the midst of another economic decline, the government of the United Kingdom, in conjunction with Britons across England, and the Commonwealth nations around the world, are spending millions of pounds Sterling on tea cups, plates, flags, and banners.
This article is not a condemnation of football stadiums or hero-worship in the Jubilee; an American has no place discrediting massive sports arenas, or statues to the great men and women. Nor is it a condemnation of the fascinating art of maintaining a purposeless monarchy in an era of democracy and ascetic spending. If anything, I have spent the last few paragraphs looking for reason in the madness and chaos. It quite simply seems that the monarchy is a religion; the Jubilee celebrations, a patriotic service; the Jubilee paraphernalia, part of the politics of aesthetics. It would be silly of me to attempt to discredit any of it while drinking out of my Jubilee mug, and I won’t. It is fascinating to see the mystical, even magical importance of the monarchy to the average Brit.
Report abuse