The post-imperial club was a global stage that justified the pomp and scale of the crown – but that is not enough to keep it going
Queen Elizabeth II was not just Britain’s head of state. She was an integral part of how a country found its lost destiny. The empire was already in decline when the late queen became monarch, but the United Kingdom still had 70 overseas territories and was basking in the afterglow of its moral and military triumph in the second world war. The coronation was a globally significant event, its golden flummery an enactment of the kind of nation Britain thought it was. Monarchy was presented as hierarchy’s human face.
But history dispelled the illusion of timeless continuity through ceremonial ritual. With revolts brewing in almost every imperial possession, Britain’s global footprint shrank. When Hong Kong was transferred to China in 1997, the Prince of Wales thought it the “end of the empire”. A myth arose that Britain had voluntarily decided to transform its colonies into a commonwealth. Having been cruelly exploited for decades, British colonies became independent republics with indecent haste. Today there are only 15 realms with the monarch as head of state. That number is set to fall: Barbados became a republic last year, with Jamaica likely to follow – and even perhaps Australia.
The Commonwealth, with the Queen as its head, was a club designed as a destination for countries parachuting out of British rule. The monarch cultivated warm personal relations with many Commonwealth leaders to keep the group together. Whether King Charles III can carry on his mother’s legacy is another question. He succeeded her as head – though the position is not hereditary and he lacks his mother’s star-power as the longest reigning monarch in the modern age. Her commitment to the post-imperial club was such that in 1986, when a boycott of the Commonwealth Games was threatened by countries that disapproved of Margaret Thatcher’s opposition to economic sanctions against South Africa, Buckingham Palace briefed against Downing Street.
The monarchy has been involved in skirmishes with the government – but a post-Brexit executive, pumped up on its own power, has brushed off its interventions. King Charles attempted this year to push back against the disgraceful policy of deporting asylum seekers to Rwanda and his son criticised the Windrush scandal, which saw hundreds of Commonwealth citizens wrongly detained and deported. Both monarch and heir have acknowledged the harm and legacies of slavery. But both stopped short of crossing swords with the government by issuing an apology for it – for fear, probably, of opening a door to reparations. A monarch should not meddle in politics, even for the right reasons.
This also exposes the weakness of the Commonwealth. Its head has been unable to move politics in a progressive direction in the UK, let alone anywhere else. The post-imperial delusion of British political life was exposed when Boris Johnson failed to oust the secretary general of the Commonwealth. A blundering, colonial mentality undergirds Brexiters’ delusion that the post-imperial club of nations could be an alternative to the European Union. The Commonwealth has received more royal attention than the EU – in part because it offered a global stage that justified the pomp and scale of the crown – but both remain unloved in Britain.
The future of the Commonwealth and its purpose is unclear. Whether it comes together or comes apart will be up to member states. But they will be watching Britain – aware that it is facing its own uncertain future as a wave of dissolution laps against its shores.