Long live the Queen … and her viceroy
IT IS HAS BEEN PRACTICAL FOR MORE THAN 150 YEARS; IT HAS WORKED SPLENDIDLY . — RAYMOND J. DE SOUZA
As Queen Elizabeth II serenely entered her 70th year on the throne this past week, the turmoil at Rideau Hall continued, in the aftermath of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s botched recommendation of Julie Payette for governor general.
The fiasco over the viceregal position has caused some observers to ruminate upon other, republican, arrangements. Conrad black expressed his doubts that “the hereditary principle will durably work for a non-residential monarchy. even if the present Queen’s successors are as devoted and estimable as she is, the present system is ultimately impractical.”
Except that it is has been practical for more than 150 years; it has worked splendidly, in fact. There is no reason whatsoever to trade in our modest monarchy for the inflated cult of the president that infects both the French and American models. In any case, our constitution makes it politically impossible to change our head of state, so we are stuck with what we have got.
But what a marvellous place to be stuck. We have got it as close to ideal as possible, which is an unintended but brilliant arrangement. A constitutional monarchy with a hereditary, non-residential monarch is exactly what we should want. We could not do better if we tried.
Every state needs a figure to embody the state itself; a position that can perform the ceremonial and representative duties of state. That inevitably leads to a certain cult of that person, the head of state. Hence the absurd imperial pretensions that attend the presidency in the united States and France.
Partly that is the fruit of being elected; the president alone can claim a national mandate. So other countries separate the head of state and head of government functions, seeking to shield the head of state from the divisiveness of partisan politics. A head of state should unite the people, but that is hard to do if a large part of the population has voted against him.
Some countries — like India, Israel and Italy — have a president/head of state that is almost purely ceremonial, much like our governor general. Not being involved in the political fray makes it possible for the role to be filled by a less controversial person whom all citizens can feel some allegiance to.
The monarchical principle of making the head of state hereditary insulates the office even more from politics. There is not even the indirect taint of politics, as has happened in the Payette affair, given the prime minister’s role in her selection.
The monarch is born to the role, not selected or elected, which is one way of expressing that the state is not entirely a political reality, but a social one. Social realities — beginning with the family — do not proceed from election or selection, and this is also true of the state. The hereditary head of state puts politics in its place.
All political systems desire an allegiance to something more than just current consensus. We want our common life to be rooted in something more than just what we agree today that it should be. Hence the reverence for the Constitution or the charter. While they represent nothing more than the majority consensus of a certain historical period, we agree to give them certain cultic reverence.
The hereditary head of state, invested with the continuity and embodiment of the state, removes the matter entirely from majority rule, past or present.
Yet a monarchy does not solve the problem of the cult of the leader, as has been seen often enough in history. This is somewhat inevitable if the monarch is also head of government, which is why kings often become tyrants.
The separation of state from government solves this problem, but not entirely. Even a modest monarch, like the current Queen, or her parents before her, can engender an undue adulation of the state. Royals who are wilful, like King Edward VIII, or seek to enhance their personal following and influence, like the Prince of Wales, or the late Princess of Wales, exacerbate the problem.
Therein lies the Canadian genius. The world of politics is separate from the hereditary head of state, and then the latter — with all the attendant trappings and cultic ritual — is kept at a great distance overseas. We can enjoy it from time to time, but customarily, the personification of the state is a modest and humble affair.
It really is the best of all worlds, and only available to countries like Canada that, by historical contingency, managed to move from colonial status to independence through a series of measured and peaceable, rather than revolutionary and violent, steps.
An American friend of mine queried me about the whole concept of “vice-regal.” It would seem that there is regal and not regal; the sovereign is sovereign and everyone else is not. There cannot really be a vice-king. Which is logical and true in principle.
The genius of Canada’s Constitution is that the viceregal reality has been made to work, exceptionally well, in practice. There is no need to change it, even if it could be done. As for elizabeth, Queen of Canada, long may she reign!