The editors at The Line have a rather unusual view of the monarchy, or perhaps more accurately, of the Royal Family itself:
The Royal Family at Buckingham Palace for the Trooping of the Colour, 30 June, 2015.
Photo by Robert Payne via Wikimedia Commons.
We have a soft spot for the monarchy, here at The Line. We believe that as an organizing principle of our system of government, the Crown provides a decent balance between effectiveness and accountability. And while the idea of our head of state residing in a foreign country seems perverse, as a practical matter the physical distancing of the sovereign in London, and the institutional distancing via the Governor General, helps Canada sidestep what would otherwise be yet another occasion for national recrimination.
So, call it two cheers for the monarchy.
That the Queen was a model of duty, decorum and discretion throughout her long reign is undeniable, and there’s not much to add on that front that hasn’t been spread over square miles of newsprint over the past week. By the same token, she and her husband raised a rather problematic set of boys, of whom the best (Edward) that can be said is that he’s a nullity. But again, there’s been more written on this than one could safely consume in a lifetime.
But we’d like to say a few things about the Royal Family itself. The Royals have long described themselves not as a family, but as The Firm — a corporate entity and business enterprise that has extensive land holdings. It pokes its fingers in countless pies, and employs an army of secretaries and assistants and advisers and servants. It has been described as an enormous, bureaucratically organized machine that dictates and determines the lives of its members.
Yet to us, the Royal Family has always seemed less like a business enterprise than a giant open-air prison. A well-funded and nicely appointed prison to be sure, but a prison nonetheless.
What’s the difference between a complicated overbearing bureaucracy and a jail? Where does the line between compliance end and incarceration begin? It can be hard to say, but the key difference can be found in whether or not you have the right of exit. As Harry put it in his infamous interview with Oprah Winfrey: “My father and my brother, they are trapped. They don’t get to leave.”
But beyond that, it is found in how you treat those who try to change things, or more importantly, those who try to escape. Diana tried to change things, and got destroyed for her efforts. Her second son has attempted an escape, and he’s paying an enormous price.
Diana was no saint obviously, and Harry is a dim fellow who married poorly and has not always exercised the best judgment. But who could, under the circumstances? How could any human be reasonably expected to behave properly, to act normally, to judge wisely, given the insane combination of internal pressure, public expectation and media scrutiny that is a non-negotiable part of the royal package? A panopticon is no less carceral for being well-funded.
With the accession of Charles to the throne as King Charles III, there have been a number of articles published running through the main plot points of his life, with a great deal of focus on his romantic life, his marriage to Diana, and ultimately his reunion with the great love of his life, Camilla. What is remarkable is to read about the number of women he proposed to, prior to Diana, who saw the monarchy for what it was, and turned him down. It’s a testament to how much Camilla must really love the old fart that she prefers a life imprisoned with him than free without.
