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Typos — p. 99: and nach [= und nach]; p. 103: humourous [= humorous] - p. 99 - XV Constitutional Monarchy In July 1842, that interesting poet, Heinrich Heine, already aware of Europe's perilous plight — leaderless, with its millions all astray like lost sheep — shrank in alarm from the doom he feared must overtake it. "I advise all our grandchildren," he said "to come into the world with very thick hides; for the future reeks of Russian knouts, blood, devilry and copious thrashings." (Franzoesische Zustände, II, Chap. XLII: "Die Zukunft riecht nach Juchten, nach Blut, nach Gottlosigkeit and nach sehr vielen Prügeln. Ich rathe unsern Enkeln, mit einer sehr dicken Rückenhaut zur Welt zu kommen.") Although not better informed than his contemporaries concerning the cause of Aristocracy's decline, as an impressionable artist he sensed the flood of popular errors and follies that threatened and, Noah's life-saving device not seeming appropriate, he thought the world could best be saved by being forewarned. Seven years later, an even truer prophet sounded the alarm; for, in his Salut du Peuple, Constantin Pecqueur stated precisely whither the torrent of Liberal Thought (or lack of it) must lead. "Take heed," he cried, "lest civilisation plant her banners on the summit of the Kremlin!" But meanwhile nothing has been done to prevent this consummation. On the contrary! With our male and especially our female politicians constantly mistaking a lump in their throats for a thought, we have reached the stage when a modern writer feels able to state categorically, "Modern thought does not look kindly on strong men." (John Masters in Bugles and a Tiger, Chap. V). And why is this so? — Because strength can have no place in the committees, commissions and parliaments that constitute the machinery of modern administrations. Above all, no strong man would be tolerated by English and American women in
One might even paraphrase Mr. Masters' dictum and say "Modern thought does not look kindly on any distinctions whatsoever." Hence probably that self-revelatory observation of the Duke of Windsor in A King's Story (1951, Chap. VIII). "The idea," he said, "that my birth and title should somehow or other set me apart from and above other people struck me as wrong." Yet it was precisely his birth and title that should have set him apart from and above other people. And if he really felt that they failed to do so, then, whether he married Mrs Simpson or not, he was perfectly right to abdicate. What should we think of congenitally superior leaders like Moses, Mahommed, Caesar, Frederick the Great or Wellington, if they had thought it wrong for their exceptional gifts to set them apart from and above other people? Should we feel that Frederick the Great and Wellington had shown charming modesty and humility if they had abjured their right to authority and command and thought it wrong that they should be set above others? Nevertheless, I have not the slightest doubt but that the Duke of Windsor's protest struck 999,999 per million of English readers as wholly admirable in both sentiment and sense. But, in mitigation of his Grace's confession, let us remember that he was born and bred in an Age when the whole weight of democratic and liberal prejudice was against any belief in the power of good lineage to confer any singular role or privilege on any one whomsoever. Only at Crufts, the Kennel Club and Racing Stables did the beliefs still survive that descent from distinguished and champion forebears set a yawning gulf between a thoroughbred and his mongrel contemporaries. And this brings us to a consideration of those sins monarchs and aristocrats have committed against themselves and against the minimum requirements for the survival of their respective
Many common factors account for the decline of the two major ruling powers in Europe during the period preceding the triumph of Ochlocracy; and we shall first examine those which helped to discredit Kingship and to usher in that bogus form of it, invented in England, known as Constitutional or Limited Monarchy. When English and French people speak proudly of their "Constitution" they vaguely imagine that it is a sort of legal and well-defined bulwark of rules protecting them from any tyranny that might be attempted by one of the components of their nation's governing body. For, as Gwendolen M. Carter and H. Herz maintain, "Constitutions define and thereby limit public power." (Government and Politics in the 20th Century, Chap. VI). Legally, Parliament in England means the reigning Sovereign, the Lords and the Commons, acting in combination to govern the country. Yet when modern English people speak of "Parliament", what they really mean is no more than the House of Commons. And they happen to be quite right in thus understanding the word; for in practice this "Sovereign House" has swallowed up all the powers of the other two components of the governing triune. It has taken upon itself to discard the co-operation of the Sovereign and Second Chamber, and even to question their very raison-d'être. This does not however prevent the public and politicians from continuing to speak of the "British Constitution" as if it still existed in its ancient form. This is because insensibly, and owing to the absence of any written document, legally protected, and defining the Constitution, the Popular Assembly, or third component of the ruling triune has, without the generally ignorant and politically indifferent populace having been aware of it, played ducks and drakes with the old governing body and appropriated all its powers. In short, what has happened is that, by dexterously and demagogically enlisting the support of the listless and gullible masses, the Lower House has eliminated from the country's administration, or effectively neutralised, those other two members of the ruling triune which were originally supposed to safeguard the nation from any usurpation of power by one branch alone of the Administration. That it
At all events, the last 250 years — i.e. the whole of the period since the Restoration of the Monarchy — have shown the steady progress of two essentially Liberal Movements, both of which were greatly accelerated in the nineteenth century; that aiming at reducing the power of the Throne on the one hand, and that determined to abolish the power of the Lords on the other. And odd as it may seem it was the most democratic of the three components of Parliament which, despite Democracy's desperate need of such checks and controls as the Throne and a Second Chamber, were intended to, and could supply, abolished the powers of both. Well might Lord Bryce exclaim that "the peoples who most need to be protected against themselves are the least disposed to provide such protection." (Modern Democracies, Vol. II, Chap. LXIII). Naturally, the result has been that the House of Commons has placed itself in a position to be able to tyrannise to any extent over the country and has left it without any means of defence. As Mr. Michael Stewart, M.P., says, "Since it is true that a Government with a majority in Parliament can legally do as it pleases, the legal defence against tyranny seems weak." (The British Approach to Politics, Chap. II). When we reflect on what has happened to the Crown in the 360 years since the death of Elizabeth I, and how the assembly of her humble advisers has gradually become the Sovereign's overlords, so that Disraeli felt able truly to describe the sceptre as no more than a pageant, it can hardly be denied that this part of our boasted "Constitution" is now little more than an ornament. Indeed, in a Commons debate of December 1947, on the allowance to be granted to Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip, Mr. Attlee (now Lord Attlee) actually maintained that "Broadly
This was tantamount to admitting that the country wanted nothing more than a monarchy that is a pageant. Nor did his remark provoke the faintest murmur of protest; and in a leader in the Daily Mail of the 18th December 1947, it was implied that, without the pageantry and ceremony the monarchy "would be nothing." So completely has the Royal influence been curtailed that the Sovereign now acts and even speaks only at the bidding and under the dictation of the Party having the majority in the House of Commons; and Messrs. Taylor Cole, David R. Deener, and Alexander Brady certainly did not intend to be humourous when they gave as an example of the Queen's present prerogative "the naming of her son Prince Charles as Prince of Wales in the summer of 1958." (European Political Systems, Chap. 4. i). Even the Royal assent to Bills passed by the Houses of Parliament is now no more than a polite fiction and "No Sovereign has refused to assent to a Bill since 1707". (British Parliamentary Democracy, by S. Bailey, Chap. 2). This is not to imply that it would be advisable to give the present royal houses of Europe more real power than they now possess, or that it would be desirable to restore in modern England the royal power which was formerly wielded by English monarchs. But it is to imply that, more particularly in a Democracy, the total demotion of the Crown as a valuable factor in the administration, has been a serious loss. Because, given the proper personality, and assuming that he has been appropriately trained for his unique function, and not brought up in one of the best schools of his country designed for the education of men whose functions are not unique, no member of the Parliamentary triune could do better service for the nation than the Crowned Head. He stands outside all Parties; he has no private axe to grind; is able to take an objective view of all national questions; is never driven as are his ministers and their supporters to cajole and bribe the electorate; and he cannot be blackmailed, as Political Parties habitually are by the voting mob, to force him to promote discriminative legislation. Finally, he is admirably situated for the difficult task of taking
To give but one example of the loss suffered by the nation through the virtual elimination of the Royal power from the Constitution, consider the so-called "No-Hanging Bill" of 1965. In spite of the fact that for 258 years no English sovereign had dared to refuse to assent to a Bill, it is my belief that if only Elizabeth the Second had on this occasion recognised her chance not only of exercising her prerogative to refuse her assent, but also of demonstrating to England and the whole of Europe the indispensability of the Power of the Crown in any sane Constitution, she would have had the vast majority in the country behind her, and would have revived and greatly enhanced the waning prestige of the Throne. It would certainly have amounted to a perplexing blow to the Leader of the Political Party in Power; but it would also have constituted a noble gesture in defence of Freedom, and would have awakened even the sleepiest brains in the Electorate to the danger with which the present unilateral and monopolistic legislative power of the Commons threatens our liberties. To those who know their history, moreover, it would have been a reminder of Charles I's heroic words when, standing on the scaffold he told the surrounding populace that he was dying a martyr to the Cause of "their Liberty and Freedom." (Rushworth: Historical Collections, Part IV, Vol. II, p. 1429). |
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