Austerity for the many but not for this pair reveals that we really are not all in this together
ROYAL WEDDING: ANGER AS TAXPAYERS HANDED £2M BILL Storm is brewing for freeloaders
You could be forgiven for imagining the wind blowing through the royal nuptials was symbolic of the stormy mood of the public over a privileged couple billing us for their extravagant wedding.
But drizzle might have been better to illustrate many people’s feelings about us being fleeced of upwards of £2million for the “big day”.
Not to mention claims by Windsor’s homeless that they were being encouraged to move on by the local council to “protect” them from all the camera crews and day-trippers.
Predictions that Britain is on the verge of becoming a republic are, of course, wide of the mark. But even the most die-hard royalist must blush at the cost and pantomime of Eugenie, little more than a frivolous clinger-on, marrying her tequila salesman.
I’ve genuinely no wish to rain on the big day of two posh, privileged no-marks but sometimes needs must.
What we witnessed in Windsor was a jet set princess and her hubby, Jack Bottlebank, demonstrating why some (admittedly, me included) insist the monarchy is an outdated, expensive irrelevancy in modern Britain.
This was like a feature-length version of RipOff Britain with a congregation of 850 – many of whom looked as if they barely knew the bride and groom – dominated by those who’d go to the opening of an envelope for a moment in the paparazzi spotlight. (That’s you, Ricky Martin.) Gawpers and grovellers allowed to be unpaid TV extras in the grounds of Windsor Castle might have a legal claim to the £7.83 an hour legal minimum wage when it was apparent the passing toffs didn’t give a vol-au-vent for them.
I’ve witnessed more enthusiastic gatherings in village fetes.
But the British public cannot be fooled. Crowds less than one deep in areas and a general sense of disinterest from locals was the most eloquent public raspberry to proceedings.
Cops drafted in to manage security among the expected masses simply twiddled thumbs and blew cobwebs from the barriers.
But there was at least comedy. It was impossible to keep a straight face at the royal Ruritania when TV presenter Richard Bacon admitted he mainly knew Eugenie “through various social events” and his neighbours in LA own the art gallery she “worked” for. Quite.
And there was Eamonn Holmes asserting the spectacle was good for a post-Brexit UK PLC with “all the Rolls-Royces” ferrying the most privileged guests up to the doors, conveniently
overlooking the fact the firm’s owned by BMW of Germany – who are warning us quitting Europe will be disastrous for motor manufacturing.
Hangers-on represented by entitled Eugenie, a person performing zero public duties and an insignificant ninth in line to the gilded sinecure, will ultimately prove the monarchy’s undoing.
Every other family in the land funding their own weddings reinforces why the freeloaders are on borrowed time. Eugenie’s daddy “Air Miles” Andy and mummy Fergie, strangers to paying their own way in life, picking up the tab would be fine.
But when a storm’s brewing over Universal Credit cuts for millions of struggling families, how absurd to lavish cash on a society bash for neverweres and never-will-bes. Austerity for the many, not the royal two, screams loudly of how much we are definitely not all in this together.
The much-broken hereditary chain tricking Mr and Mrs into thinking a handout is theirs by right is a rusting link to centuries of rule by tyrants.
In a modern democracy, royals are as useful as square wheels on a bike.
Eugenie’s Meghan Markle mini-me act with that carriage vanity ride illustrates a disconnect in the bankrolled bubble from the harsh realities for those of us required to feather-bed the apex of an unearned hierarchy.
The poisonous role of the royals is to legitimise unearned wealth and power, protecting the privileges of elites. Sibling rivalry has seen Eugenie and big sis Beatrice battle it out for the annual title of holidaymaker of the year for the past decade. Eugenie lost out, just, until now.
Who could argue the public cash squandered yesterday couldn’t have been better spent on nurses, teachers, social workers, cops, firefighters or any public servant you are to name?
The wastefulness threatens to unleash the worst turbulence for this gilded establishment since the uproar over £369million to renovate Buckingham Palace for the Queen and her closest relatives.
Eugenie’s auntie Camilla cannily arranged to be at a school harvest festival in Scotland to miss the Windsor show. But pity the poor needy old lady who answered a knock on the door to find a beaming pupil dropping off a horsey member of the country set rather than a jar of jam.
Inviting more guests than Harry and Meghan was a grand statement from the otherwise irrelevant. We can laugh, mock and try to ignore the self-importance of the me-me-mes until the bills come in. The monarchy relies on mystique, a superiority fallacy.
Yesterday the bride looked beautiful and her swooning husband dutifully nervous. Let’s wish them that happy and long life together.
And also thank the married couple for confirming the royal family is essentially parasitical, feeding on the gullibility of decent people.
Because those decent people resent being taken for granted.