Sons and daughters

16 Commonwealth nations have decided, without fuss, to allow sons and daughters equal rights to succeed to the British throne. The lack of fuss was surprising and quite pleasing. It is notoriously difficult to get nations to agree – and commit themselves legally – to anything.  (Other than fat subsidies to French micro-farmers.) Kyoto? Jubilee? Even something as self-evidently splendid as the invasion of Iraq didn’t get the nod.

The decision itself, it must be admitted, doesn’t affect most of us (except paparazzi or assassins, who in pursuit of their quarry are now equally likely to have to hide in the Ladies or the Gents): but it feels like the fair and “modern” thing to do.

Mind you, questions have been asked about the fairness or modernity of having an unelected monarch in the first place. And it’s a funny sort of “equality” that allows a certain thing to him (or indeed to her), but not to me.

But I believe our monarchy in fact safeguards our democracy. It is extremely useful to have a head of state who is chosen randomly (or providentially) but clearly and unequivocally: and for that person to have no actual power.

Like it or not, the head of state embodies the state. That function is a very useful one, and needs insulating from real power. A Blair or a Thatcher cannot claim to embody the state, since the Queen does that. This limits the damage they can do – compared with a Stalin or a Mugabe, who in the absence of a monarch can claim that their opponents are enemies of the state. 

(Incidentally, check out the role of Juan Carlos II during Tejero’s attempted coup in Spain in 1981. The attack was upon the parliament, not the King: and the King, in defying the armed insurgents, had nothing to gain politically – since he was committed to returning Spain to democratic rule after the Franco years. But if the king had been killed, Spanish democracy would have died with him.)