I awoke today to learn that, not only had Wayne Rooney become England's top goal-scorer, but that our own dear Queen had apparently lived long enough to become the longest reigning monarch in our history. I listened to the sonorous tones of various BBC pundits on the Today programme assuring us of the overwhelming significance of this occasion (not Rooney, the Queen) and noted their commitment to impartiality as they interviewed three worthies all of whom were staunch monarchists. The very idea that there might - just - be some people out there not entirely persuaded that this was an occasion of such overwhelming significance, that in fact there is a sizeable Republican minority within the nation, did not, of course, merit any consideration at all. Now, I have no opinion whatsoever on the character of her majesty - I'm quite prepared to believe that she is indeed a virtuous and hard-working woman. But her virtues or otherwise are entirely beside the point. What is required is some analysis of how this institution affects the culture in which we live. The BBC frequently assured me that the queen is a potent symbol of the nation and Royalty is above politics. (Her close relatives enthusiasm for Nazi Germany in the 1930's were not mentioned here). Not only this, but she is a unifying symbol, bringing us all together, dissolving the divisions of class, ethnicity, gender, political and ideological affiliation and reminding us that all this really doesn't matter as long as the stabilising principle of unelected and unrepresentative power remains intact.

If the monarchy acts as a potent national symbol, then it behoves those offering serious commentary to provide some sort of analysis of what, precisely, is being symbolised. A great deal is being made simply of longevity. Well, plenty of leaders have been around for some time, some of them quite unpleasant - Robert Mugabe, for example. Admittedly not quite the length of our own dear queen, but he was at least once properly elected. If you are never subject to any democratic process, then simply staying alive doesn't really count for much. 
The monarch stands at the head of an elaborate, medieval structure of hereditary power. Flowing from the monarch come the Byzantine gradations of aristocratic titles and direct power - the 92 hereditary peers still sitting in the unelected chamber of the House of Lords, for example. The life peers are also appointed by the queen, although this is a formality, though we know not if she has rejected any. All of us are, technically, not citizens having some rights and responsibilities in our society, but subjects, owing unquestioning allegiance to unaccountable and inherited power rather than anyone with a democratic mandate. In terms of symbolism what we have here is a symbol of profoundly anti-democratic control based purely on birthright. It also symbolises a destructive culture of deference that distorts our whole society. The structures of hereditary wealth and power inculcate a deeply ingrained sense of social or class division that encourages all of us to 'know our place' and to accept birthright as a legitimate process of acquired wealth and influence. Far from being a symbol of unity, the monarchy is actually a symbol of ancient and deep social division, but so deeply ingrained is this cultural process - powerfully facilitated by the media - that we barely register it. Unless, of course, you engage in a more critical approach to social analysis than institutions such as the BBC will permit. And while the chief royal sycophant, Nicholas Witchell continues to fawn in front of royal power on behalf of the BBC - and older readers will remember Witchell crossing NUJ picket lines to heroically undermine his colleagues by continuing to read the news during the 1989 strike, we will all perhaps consider what the word 'unity' may mean in BBC management circles.

I'm going to break with the -roughly - chronological approach I'm taking to the account of my childhood to revisit one of the few, perhaps the only, pre-isolation hospital memories I have. I mentioned in my last post that my grandfather on my father's side had owned a radio and television retail shop in the pre and post-war years (television was first broadcast by the BBC in 1936, and had to shut down with the outbreak of war). Broadcasting from Alexandra Palace, the TV signal could only be picked up in the Greater London area, so my grandfather's shop was ideally placed to tap into this new market. (he once claimed to me that he had invented television, but "that chap Baird stole my designs". Fantasies of this kind were not uncommon with him.) Anyway, this meant that my grandparents had a television, even in the 1950's, on which I remember watching 'Andy Pandy', 'Muffin the Mule', 'Bill and Ben' etc. I also remember - I would have been three years old - the Coronation when our dear queen was officially elevated to her current position in a ceremony entirely dominated by the ancient aristocracy, the military and, of course, the Church of England. All those famously democratic institutions. I watched, of course, on a tiny black and white screen embedded in a large wooden case and I would have had absolutely no idea what was going on. What I do remember, though, is that some people in the room were waving flags at the screen, flags on long canes that waved hypnotically before the tiny screen. In later years, I scrutinised this memory quite closely, and I came to realise that, from the colour of the flags, what were being waved were the red and yellow hammer and sickle flags of the communist revolution, provided almost certainly by my grandfather for the occasion. Even in the heart of bourgeois Bromley, unity was not entirely evident.

to be continued.........