Everyone said it was an occasion that made
one proud to be British.
Presenters and guests in studios across
the world extolled the virtues of a country that is able to put on such a great
show, claiming that it set a wonderful precedent for the forthcoming Olympics.
People over-ate, over-drank and partied long into several nights, as they
celebrated Queen Elizabeth’s 60-year reign.
I felt nothing. Zilch. Nada.
I went to Spain where, for professional
reasons only, I watched some of the pageantry on the telly. I wanted to feel
something. A glimmer of patriotism, a hint of belonging, a sense of having come
home, where I belong, after several years spent living mainly in other
countries. I dug deep. And all I found was a longing to leave these shores once
more in search of sunnier climes, cheaper utilities, better service – and, most
importantly, leave a country that purports to be a democracy, when the head of
State is where she is purely by virtue of her birth; likewise, the rest of the
Royal family. That defies the very essence of democracy.
The joke is that the many thousands who
gathered to catch a glimpse of the Royals this week are where they are by
virtue of their birth, too: Down There. They are Her Majesty’s subjects: every
one of them poorer, less privileged, and with not a snowball’s chance in hell
of ever rising to Her Majesty’s position. The only way they can even get close
is with neck bowed or a curtsy. I recently saw a list of DOs and DON’Ts for Joe
Public meeting the Queen – it disgusted me.
I back Plaid Cymru leader Leanne Wood, a
staunch Republican, who refuses to attend events at which the Queen turns up –
and she was once thrown out of the Assembly for referring to the Queen as “Mrs
Windsor”. Good on her. And for any dissonant voices out there venting their
fury at this – Plaid’s membership has gone up 23% since she took the reins.
The Royal family is one of the most
dysfunctional ones in the country. Her children grew up shaking their mother’s
hand rather than receiving a hug. Charles went on to marry a beautiful, young
but vulnerable woman, whom he treated appallingly from day one, continuing his
affair with Camilla Parker Bowles and, on his honeymoon, even wearing the
famously embossed CC cufflinks she had given him.
Both Anne and Andrew are divorced,
and Edward revealed himself to have the business acumen of a dead stoat in the
film business, despite people throwing chances at him purely because of his
lineage.
Thank heavens for Diana in this mix, and
the joy that William and Harry have turned out to be – and, also, for Fergie,
who has brought up two rather fun-loving daughters, even if they sometimes
leave a lot to be desired in the fashion department.
On November 4th 2008, on the
even of my 50th birthday, I stood in tears, watching TV, as America
stood on the brink of electing its first black President. He has not proven
himself to be perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I felt proud of a
country taking such a monumental step where, not so very long ago, black people
had to give up their seats to white on public transport. Racism is still rife
in the States as, sadly, it seems to be everywhere, but Obama has surely given
hope to millions of young, disenfranchised Americans – yes, they can do it.
The Royal Family is a smokescreen for the
real problems underlying British society – our failing education system,
immense poverty, struggle on a daily basis for millions, as they find
themselves falling behind on mortgages and bills. Waving your little flag might
enable you to forget for a couple of days, but come the hangover, the problems
are still there.
As for me: I’m out of here. Again.
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