The magic of the monarchy: The royal moment has come
Prince William has shown he can be a new kind of king. It is time to put away the cynicism and pledge our full-throated support
A few short weeks from now, with the world looking on, William Arthur Philip Louis Windsor will exchange rings with Catherine Elizabeth Middleton, and much of Britain will rejoice. Yet, at such moments, certain voices – this newspaper's included – have long expressed dissent. All this mawkish celebration, they maintain, merely bolsters an anti-democratic institution based on privilege and patronage, a costly anachronism that ought to be abolished. That view is understandable. But it is time for them – for us – to reconsider. A decade ago, the Guardian prominently announced its commitment to republicanism. But Prince William has shown that he can be a new kind of king. That is why, in a significant change of course, we today pledge our full-throated support for the British monarchy.
Let's face it: the current crop of world leaders is far from inspiring. Across the Arab world, dictators battle their own people; at home, attitudes towards Cameron and Clegg alternate between apathy and outrage. In America, the hope that greeted Barack Obama has long since faded. As The King's Speech so vividly reminded us, there are times when only the calming leadership of a hereditary monarch will do; and as the MPs' expenses scandal illustrates, it can be dangerous to trust power-hungry elected officials, who lack the security provided by land ownership and immense wealth. Amid all this, William in particular stands out as something unique: a bastion of tradition with a deeply modern sensibility – not to mention a helicopter pilot's licence. When the time comes, we urge Prince Charles to redouble his focus on his important work in the field of alternative medicine, and to pass the mantle of head of state to his son.
For too long, a hair-shirt tendency on the left has insisted that a commitment to progressive values is incompatible with an appreciation for the magic and wonder of royalty. But in this era of austerity, couldn't we all do with being a bit more "happy and glorious"? Few things, after all, are as likely to lift the spirits of Britain's embattled public sector workers or benefit claimants than the sight of Kate Middleton's sure-to-be-spectacular wedding dress.
The couple themselves, meanwhile, reflect values close to this paper's own. William encapsulates our spirit of internationalism, thanks to his Greek and German heritage on his father's side, and his gap year in Chile. Kate embodies our commitment to gender equality in the way in which she has faced work-life challenges common to many women today, juggling such roles as accessories buyer for Jigsaw and being one of Tatler magazine's top 10 fashion icons. Other royals, too, are surely deserving of recognition: belatedly, for example, we have come to appreciate the crucial work done by Prince Andrew, using his personal connections to plant the seeds of democracy in repressive regimes worldwide.
Beginning today, the Guardian announces a raft of changes designed to ensure that our royal coverage is unrivalled by any other media organisation. We begin an unprecedented month-long, 24-hour royal wedding live blog, offering minute-by-minute coverage of the preparations. We will be recalling correspondents from some less newsworthy parts of the globe, such as north Africa and south-east Asia, so they can focus on palace matters instead. And we will shortly be making available to readers a range of attractive commemorative crockery.
The marriage of a prince to a commoner – a true bridging of class divides, if ever there was one – represents the perfect moment for progressives to commit again to the promise of hereditary monarchy. Great philosophers, from Burke to Andrew Morton, have argued powerfully for the institution's value. In any case, it would be churlish to fight the tide of excitement and optimism currently flooding the nation. It is time to put away the cynicism, and get out the union jacks.
Let's face it: the current crop of world leaders is far from inspiring. Across the Arab world, dictators battle their own people; at home, attitudes towards Cameron and Clegg alternate between apathy and outrage. In America, the hope that greeted Barack Obama has long since faded. As The King's Speech so vividly reminded us, there are times when only the calming leadership of a hereditary monarch will do; and as the MPs' expenses scandal illustrates, it can be dangerous to trust power-hungry elected officials, who lack the security provided by land ownership and immense wealth. Amid all this, William in particular stands out as something unique: a bastion of tradition with a deeply modern sensibility – not to mention a helicopter pilot's licence. When the time comes, we urge Prince Charles to redouble his focus on his important work in the field of alternative medicine, and to pass the mantle of head of state to his son.
For too long, a hair-shirt tendency on the left has insisted that a commitment to progressive values is incompatible with an appreciation for the magic and wonder of royalty. But in this era of austerity, couldn't we all do with being a bit more "happy and glorious"? Few things, after all, are as likely to lift the spirits of Britain's embattled public sector workers or benefit claimants than the sight of Kate Middleton's sure-to-be-spectacular wedding dress.
The couple themselves, meanwhile, reflect values close to this paper's own. William encapsulates our spirit of internationalism, thanks to his Greek and German heritage on his father's side, and his gap year in Chile. Kate embodies our commitment to gender equality in the way in which she has faced work-life challenges common to many women today, juggling such roles as accessories buyer for Jigsaw and being one of Tatler magazine's top 10 fashion icons. Other royals, too, are surely deserving of recognition: belatedly, for example, we have come to appreciate the crucial work done by Prince Andrew, using his personal connections to plant the seeds of democracy in repressive regimes worldwide.
Beginning today, the Guardian announces a raft of changes designed to ensure that our royal coverage is unrivalled by any other media organisation. We begin an unprecedented month-long, 24-hour royal wedding live blog, offering minute-by-minute coverage of the preparations. We will be recalling correspondents from some less newsworthy parts of the globe, such as north Africa and south-east Asia, so they can focus on palace matters instead. And we will shortly be making available to readers a range of attractive commemorative crockery.
The marriage of a prince to a commoner – a true bridging of class divides, if ever there was one – represents the perfect moment for progressives to commit again to the promise of hereditary monarchy. Great philosophers, from Burke to Andrew Morton, have argued powerfully for the institution's value. In any case, it would be churlish to fight the tide of excitement and optimism currently flooding the nation. It is time to put away the cynicism, and get out the union jacks.
Opposition policy: cut to the chase
Making the case for growth over cuts won't win Labour the next election – but failing to set out a viable alternative could lose it
The consequences of political choices take time to unfurl. What seemed dangerous at the start of a process can come to seem peripheral, while what once appeared merely maladroit rises up to become a damaging indication of a deeper malaise. Last week's TUC march will in political terms be remembered less for the appalling violence of a minority, or the policing tactics, but for what it said about Labour's uncertain message on cuts. As we wrote on Monday, it was right to join the march for the alternative – but, nearly a week on, it is all the more essential to be able to answer questions about what that alternative is. So it was disappointing yesterday that both at the launch of Labour's local election campaign and on the Radio 4 Today programme, Ed Miliband lacked an authoritative case, while his sometimes defensive manner seemed to betray uncertainty. Opposition is a tough game, hardest of all in the early years, when the government can still throw its predecessor's legacy in its face. Labour has a good case to make against economic policy that is a matter of political choice rather than financial necessity. But it is not yet underpinned by a clear and persuasive description of why, and of how it could be different.
Labour can expect handsome rewards in May's local elections, which are in seats last contested four years ago. The dismal results then precipitated Tony Blair's departure from Downing Street. But local election results, along with good opinion poll figures for the party, disguise more fundamental areas of concern. Not only is there substantial backing still for the Tory economic programme (although that may wane as the real cuts begin to bite) but Ed Miliband's personal support is, in some polls, worse than Iain Duncan Smith's at the same point in his leadership. It's not all gloom. Rebuilding Labour's economic credibility rests on two preconditions. Constructing an alternative is one. Acknowledging past mistakes is the second. It is true that though few made it at the time, there is a case against Gordon Brown's management of the Treasury. In an interview in this week's New Statesman, the shadow chancellor, Ed Balls, goes a long way to accepting that there was, at least in hindsight, a structural deficit before 2008. He admits that he was wrong about light-touch City regulation; he accepts that, with employment more buoyant than he had anticipated, his anxiety about Alistair Darling's cuts in 2009 (and, more opaquely, his no-cuts leadership election position last year) were wrong. And he is clear that those who think clamping down hard on tax avoidance is a sufficient alternative to making cuts are misguided. This is an interview that jettisons some difficult baggage.
But at the moment, in campaigning terms, it remains the stuff of the small print. The message at the local election launch yesterday, like the message at last Saturday's march, is all about solidarity, being the voters' voice "in tough times". There are too many people who will treat this as political sleight of hand – people who remember all too vividly who was in power when the meltdown happened, people who want their political leaders to be straight with them. Their views might not shape the way they vote on 5 May, but voting Labour to protest at cuts forced on their local council by the coalition is not the same as being prepared to vote Labour at the next election.
This is the real challenge for Labour: no one wants their library closed or their Sure Start cut back. No one wants to see the fall in crime rates reversed. Yet most people believe, as Labour does, that some cuts are unavoidable. Between now and the next election, few will be left untouched by the impact of the coalition's deficit reduction strategy. Mr Miliband is right to warn that it might soon feel like the divisive 1980s all over again. He will not need reminding how the economic trauma of the 1980s, and Labour's struggle to develop a cogent alternative, contributed to the party's catastrophic marginalisation. He knows he has to have more to say about the economy than that what the government is doing is wrong. And he will recognise the fallacy of the argument that Labour cannot win on the economy – that if the coalition strategy works then the party's criticisms of it will harm Labour itself, and that if it fails then they are unnecessary. On the contrary, although making the economic case for prioritising growth over cuts won't win the next election, failing to set out a viable alternative could lose it.
Behind the Treasury bombast, this is beginning to look like a worried government. Reports yesterday that David Cameron is intervening to slow the pace of NHS reforms – the bill has just started on what will be a bruising passage through the Lords – follow an unusually abrasive performance at prime minister's questions. There is no time to lose.
Labour can expect handsome rewards in May's local elections, which are in seats last contested four years ago. The dismal results then precipitated Tony Blair's departure from Downing Street. But local election results, along with good opinion poll figures for the party, disguise more fundamental areas of concern. Not only is there substantial backing still for the Tory economic programme (although that may wane as the real cuts begin to bite) but Ed Miliband's personal support is, in some polls, worse than Iain Duncan Smith's at the same point in his leadership. It's not all gloom. Rebuilding Labour's economic credibility rests on two preconditions. Constructing an alternative is one. Acknowledging past mistakes is the second. It is true that though few made it at the time, there is a case against Gordon Brown's management of the Treasury. In an interview in this week's New Statesman, the shadow chancellor, Ed Balls, goes a long way to accepting that there was, at least in hindsight, a structural deficit before 2008. He admits that he was wrong about light-touch City regulation; he accepts that, with employment more buoyant than he had anticipated, his anxiety about Alistair Darling's cuts in 2009 (and, more opaquely, his no-cuts leadership election position last year) were wrong. And he is clear that those who think clamping down hard on tax avoidance is a sufficient alternative to making cuts are misguided. This is an interview that jettisons some difficult baggage.
But at the moment, in campaigning terms, it remains the stuff of the small print. The message at the local election launch yesterday, like the message at last Saturday's march, is all about solidarity, being the voters' voice "in tough times". There are too many people who will treat this as political sleight of hand – people who remember all too vividly who was in power when the meltdown happened, people who want their political leaders to be straight with them. Their views might not shape the way they vote on 5 May, but voting Labour to protest at cuts forced on their local council by the coalition is not the same as being prepared to vote Labour at the next election.
This is the real challenge for Labour: no one wants their library closed or their Sure Start cut back. No one wants to see the fall in crime rates reversed. Yet most people believe, as Labour does, that some cuts are unavoidable. Between now and the next election, few will be left untouched by the impact of the coalition's deficit reduction strategy. Mr Miliband is right to warn that it might soon feel like the divisive 1980s all over again. He will not need reminding how the economic trauma of the 1980s, and Labour's struggle to develop a cogent alternative, contributed to the party's catastrophic marginalisation. He knows he has to have more to say about the economy than that what the government is doing is wrong. And he will recognise the fallacy of the argument that Labour cannot win on the economy – that if the coalition strategy works then the party's criticisms of it will harm Labour itself, and that if it fails then they are unnecessary. On the contrary, although making the economic case for prioritising growth over cuts won't win the next election, failing to set out a viable alternative could lose it.
Behind the Treasury bombast, this is beginning to look like a worried government. Reports yesterday that David Cameron is intervening to slow the pace of NHS reforms – the bill has just started on what will be a bruising passage through the Lords – follow an unusually abrasive performance at prime minister's questions. There is no time to lose.
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