My barely restrained frothing at the mouth over what I see as the cringingly subservient attitude of many of my fellow countrymen to the royal family, to the past Queen and the present King, are put to shame by some of the well-tempered and constructive analysis by papers like The Guardian.
While it is generally clear that most of these writers regard a hereditary monarch as an aberration in a mature democracy, a denial of the meritocracy that Britain has paid lip service to for generations, and a reinforcement of the inequalities that still hinder the development of the country, they are still able to write with a subtlety and depth of analysis which brings reason into the argument.
While I am sure that the republican feelings in the country are growing year on year, I am also fairly convinced that the statistics show that a majority of the country would probably support the continuation of the monarchy if it were ever put to a vote.
We have to work within the bounds of reality. Much though I would like to see the institution of the monarchy abolished, it is unlikely to happen. What is glaring obvious to me is just as obviously not to a large number of people. But that is what we have got to work with.
At this time of National Grief, or however you define what is going on at the moment with all responses being fuelled by the unending coverage of the BBC, it is perhaps not the time to call for all out republicanism! But, at the same time, this so-called transition period as we move from one long serving monarch to a new/old king is surely a time for reflection.
At the moment the political system seems paralyzed by the concerns for the funeral and succession but as one commentator pointed out, the poor don’t stop being poor for the days until after the funeral. We need action now. Action on the cost-of-living crisis and some sort of discussion about the way that we want to see the future of our political systems develop.
When Macmillan was asked what the most difficult problems in government were, he replied, “Events, dear boy, events!” There will always be “events” and there will always be reasons for inaction and for kicking difficult problems down the road or into the tall grass of whatever other metaphor you want to use for not doing something. With people genuinely concerned about affording food and heat next winter; with a serious war in Europe; with political division more pronounced each day – they are plenty of reasons to feel overwhelmed. But I keep telling myself that the most far-reaching reform of the education system was developed during the Second World War. Whatever issues seem overwhelming at the moment, compared with the last War we are still sitting pretty, and we have more than enough time and space to consider and debate the future without resorting to panic!
As guns are fired in salutes; as various officials read out proclamations; as the stately procession of the coffin of the Queen makes its progress through the country; as politicians speak to reassure us of continuity, and as newspapers and the media give worldwide graphic images of a particular vision of our country, everything appears to be slipping back into place.
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose!
On an altogether more mundane note: I have swum earlish-morning in the community pool for a week (or one half) of the period that my regular indoor pool is closed for annual maintainance.
I can tell that it is getting cooler and the jump into the pool to start my lengths (or circles in this pool) is something of a shock - but not an unbearable one, so I will continue to do it, until the breath is knocked out of my body by my first insertion!
My smart watch is set to "Open water swimming" for the pool and seems to take a variable attitude to how far I swim. On the first occasion I felt that I had not done my customary 1,500m, but I was more than prepared to believe my watch rather than my level of breathlessness. Today, the obverse of that occurred and I felt (and believe) that I did far more than my allotted length.
I miss the ritual of my usual morning swim, where I don't have to wait for a smidgeon of sunshine to make the ordeal a little more bearable! And then there is my tea and baguette in the cafe, that I also miss - but I tell myself that I will be all the more appreciative when I finally return in another seven cold-water days!
