The 15 realms that acknowledge Queen Elizabeth II as their monarch have spent the weekend celebrating her Platinum Jubilee. The queen has reigned for 70 years, a record surpassed only by King Louis XIV of France and, if you count nonsovereign states, Sobhuza II of Swaziland, who assumed the throne at the age of four months and held it until his death nearly 83 years later.
Consider the record of other nations during her 70 years. Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union have disappeared. West Germany went from being under partial occupation to full sovereignty and eventual unification with East Germany. France saw Charles de Gaulle’s coup and the establishment of a new regime. Spain and Portugal moved bumpily from dictatorship to constitutional rule. And that is in relatively orderly Europe. Elsewhere, constitutions came and went like editions of periodical magazines.
The best argument for a constitutional monarchy is that it guarantees legitimacy. Civil wars happen — not because people disagree about what their country ought to be doing, but because they disagree about who has the right to issue orders. Revolutions and dictatorships are unthinkable in Britain because there is no argument about where ultimate sovereignty resides. As a now-deceased friend of mine, a Jewish refugee from Vienna who knew all about political turmoil, used to observe: “As long as the queen is safe in Buckingham Palace, my family is safe in Golders Green.”
Monarchies are rare these days. If we consider only the years since Elizabeth’s accession, we see toppled thrones in Afghanistan, Burundi, Egypt, Ethiopia, Greece, Iraq, Iran, Laos, Libya, Nepal, Rwanda, Tunisia, Vietnam, and Yemen.
Then again, stop and consider that list. It’s not exactly a stunning endorsement of republicanism, is it? I suspect the peoples of several of those states have at one time or another wished for some kind of referee, separate from their politicians and generals, able to command the loyalty of state forces in a way that was both neutral and undisputed.
You might reasonably object that there are also successful republics. The United States is the supreme example of a country that has avoided arbitrary rule through an ingenious system of checks and balances. But that model has not often been exported successfully. Most Latin American states copied the U.S. system on achieving independence, and most have since lurched from coup to coup. In the time that the U.S. has had a single constitution, Ecuador has had 21, Venezuela 26, and the Dominican Republic 32.
And how confident can you be of the U.S.? As this column frequently laments, elections are increasingly treated as contingent, with the losing side immediately going to court. In 2016 and in 2020, Donald Trump declared before a single vote was cast that the result would be fraudulent unless he won. Is it beyond the realm of imagination that we might one day see state authorities appointing rival sets of Electoral College delegates? Can you rule out the prospect of two presidents-elect, each claiming a mandate and making Cabinet appointments? To repeat, civil wars are caused not by disagreements over policy, but by disagreements over legitimacy.
Much as I admire the U.S. Constitution, it is worth noting that that sublime document was the product of a misplaced fear. On both sides of the Atlantic, there was an odd conspiracy theory in the late 18th century to the effect that the Hanoverians were planning to roll back the powers of Parliament and rule as medieval tyrants. These fears, of course, did not materialize. Great Britain continued along the road to greater democracy just as its former colonies did.
Had the American Revolution somehow not happened, today’s America would not be a kingdom in the style of Brunei or Saudi Arabia. Rather, it would be a crowned republic like Britain — or, to give a closer parallel, like Canada, where the institution of monarchy is seen primarily as a bulwark against the partisan viciousness that sometimes takes hold across the border.
“We profess our loyalty to a person who represents all Canadians — and not to a document such as a constitution, a banner such as a flag or a geopolitical entity such as a country,” says the welcome pack for new citizens. “It is a remarkably simple yet powerful principle: Canada is personified by the Sovereign just as the Sovereign is personified by Canada.”
Indeed, it is striking to see how many of the most liberal, tranquil, contented, and egalitarian states turn out to be constitutional monarchies: Australia, Canada, Denmark, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway. Even more striking is how many of these states share the same monarch, the 33rd great-granddaughter of Scotland’s Kenneth MacAlpin and 32nd great-granddaughter of England’s Alfred the Great. Not a bad record, all told.
