The Tribune

One of the interesting features of life in modern Britain is a readiness by many to expose the self-importance and pomposity of others. Those who take themselves too seriously – particularly people in public life whose acquisition of power can go to their heads and cloud their judgement - are often subject to criticism and even ridicule. This applies, in particular, to any sitting government.

In an increasingly egalitarian society, people will no longer tolerate attitudes and behaviour of superiority, while those in authority are increasingly liable to close scrutiny and held to account by a fearless, intrusive and iconoclastic press. Nonetheless, people know that for the necessary authority and institutions to produce a properly functioning society they must be respected.

The above paragraphs were drafted before this morning’s announcement of a ministerial reshuffle in the UK that included the removal from office of the Home Secretary. But, reflecting earlier on such thoughts when reading UK press accounts of last week’s State Opening of Parliament in London, it occurred to me that only in a traditionally secure democracy like Britain over the years, with its reputation as a law-abiding and well-ordered society, can its domestic critics feel safe in making fun of authority – and not least, of course, the government of the day.

A particular example of excessive cheekiness, if not, disrespect, was a so-called sketch writer’s comment that, for the King, wearing his new crown was “a work in progress” as he “walks as if he’s balancing a bag of flour on his head”. Another suggested that, in this modern age, the Speech from the Throne ceremony verged on the absurd. He added, however, that, although it was easy to despair of British politics, at least the country’s leader was not evidently in cognitive decline and his main rival on the possible verge of jail time! Whatever view one may take of that, at least the authors of such stuff know that, even if they are read or listened to by those holding power, they will not incur the wrath of authority and be liable to summary arrest and detention which would almost certainly be the case in an authoritarian state or in a so-called “banana republic”.

The King’s Speech, which is formally called the Speech from the Throne though it is written by the government, is a key part of the opening of a new session of Parliament that marks the start of the parliamentary year. This is held in the House of Lords with all the traditional pomp and ceremony and attended by numerous bemedalled and bejewelled notables. Members of Parliament are summoned to attend from the adjoining House of Commons to hear from the monarch who, in accordance with Britain’s constitutional democracy, reads out the speech provided by the government outlining its legislative agenda and its priorities for the months ahead. People here in The Bahamas are well aware, of course, that a similar ceremony is held in Nassau since the country is a realm rather than a republic and the British Monarch, represented by the Governor General, is Head of State.

It is sometimes said that the monarch reigns but does not rule. As is well known, his powers are largely symbolic, with no political or executive role, while also remaining politically neutral. That said, he is responsible for appointing the prime minister and signing legislation by giving royal assent to Bills passed by Parliament thus signifying they have become law.

The monarch undertakes constitutional and representational duties that have developed over a thousand years of history and also carries out important work of public and charitable service – and, of course, rather than power he wields influence.

At last week’s ceremony, much has been made by commentators about King Charles III waiting for more than 70 years to deliver a big speech to Parliament and then having to read out material some of which he must fundamentally disagree with. What is more, the speech also looks to many observers to have been largely a bunch of generalities, with some calling it an “unimaginative ragbag of new unsubstantial laws”.

To my eye, it does not seem to be exactly electrifying material. For example, to say “my government will change this country and build a better future” looks to be flat and banal and a general statement of the obvious. What was more serious, however, was the King being forced to describe the Prime Minister’s plans to reverse some of the anti-green agenda and boost the fossil fuel industry by licensing new oil fields in the North Sea and pledging to grant new North Sea oil and gas exploration licences every year. That must have been difficult for someone who has spent a lifetime campaigning on environmental issues and warning about climate change and global warming and who, later this month, will be visiting the environment summit, COP 28, in Dubai where he will no doubt make a strong intervention.

That said, it is essential that the King should remain politically neutral, at least publicly. His mother, The Queen, was adept at keeping her views on politics to herself, especially about major issues. A notable example was that, even on a subject which was dear to her heart like the independence of Scotland, she did not give any hint of her views at the time of the referendum in 2014, though it would not have been hard for anyone to have guessed what they were.

History of globalisation promoted by Britain and her Empire

During the recent royal visit to Kenya, a good deal of publicity was given to King Charles’ apology for Britain’s action as the colonial power in brutally suppressing the Mau Mau, the militant African nationalist movement in Kenya in the 1950s which advocated violent resistance to British rule. This was interpreted, wrongly, by some as an apology for colonialism itself.

As such, it occurred to me that this might be an appropriate opportunity to draw attention to an excellent book I have discovered anew by one of Britain’s well-known historians, Niall Ferguson, about the British Empire and, more specifically, the history of globalization as it was promoted by Britain and her colonies. Entitled “Empire: How Britain made the Modern World”, it was first published in 2003 and the paperback version runs to some 400 pages.

It is the extraordinary story of how an archipelago of rainy islands off the north-west coast of Europe came to rule so much of the world – at one time colonizing and controlling about one quarter of the globe’s population. It was the biggest empire in history, spread around the world so that literally the sun never set on it.

Ferguson’s work is a well-informed, thoughtful and comprehensive survey of one of the greatest achievements in history, covering political, military, social and economic aspects in very readable prose embellished by anecdotes and illustrations to enliven the text. But, in my view, what makes it such a good read is that it chronicles both the good and the bad, the splendours and the miseries and the successes and failures. It asserts categorically that British imperialism was hardly without blemish. But, at the same time, it describes fully the benefits of colonialism like the idea of liberty and the introduction of law and order and sound governance and, as it turned out, spreading the English language.

Nonetheless, instead of talking in exaggeratedly general terms - like some British leaders do about the British Empire being the greatest instrument for good the world has ever seen - Ferguson describes in practical terms the globalisation brought about by the empire and the economic openness and cooperation stimulated by the free movement of goods, capital and labour during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Certainly, this is a different approach towards a complicated and controversial subject and it is all the more fascinating for that.

This book does not shy away from the iniquities of the slave trade and faces accusations that the British Empire was built on oppression and exploitation. It also does not attempt to disclaim the bad side of things like the Irish potato famine, the expropriation of the Matabele or the Amritsar massacre; and it raises questions about whether the costs of empire – including the cost of defending it being an unnecessary burden on domestic taxpayers - outweighed the benefits for Britain.

But Ferguson concludes overall that the balance sheet of the British imperial achievement should not omit the credit side either. He seeks to show that the legacy of Empire is not mainly about “racism, discrimination against minorities, xenophobia and related intolerance” – as claimed by some modern-day historians - but about positives like the triumph of capitalism; the Anglicisation of North America, Australia and New Zealand; the English language becoming an international means of communication; the enduring influence of the Protestant version of Christianity; and, perhaps most importantly, the survival of parliamentary institutions.

In the continuing debate about British colonialism, it seems to me that access to an informed and reliable account of what actually happened is essential – and all the more so a work by an historian of the evident quality of Niall Ferguson as Professor of History at Harvard University and a Fellow of both Oxford and Stanford Universities, amongst numerous other academic positions. In the words of one critic, this is popular history at its best.

A peaceful demonstration after all

In last week’s column, I covered in detail the issues surrounding the massive pro-Palestinian demonstration in London that was planned for last weekend. It duly took place on Saturday which was Armistice Day. To the relief of the government – particularly following the controversy involving the Home Secretary - it was largely peaceful, even though there was some violence and a number of arrests. This was thanks, primarily, to effective work by the police on the day.

Reportedly, a number of other arrests were made after a counter-demonstration by mainly far-right activists who in some instances clashed violently with the police who were trying to stop them interfering with the march.

The avoidance of any sustained violence during this organised march of an estimated 300,000 has confirmed in the minds of many that it was right after all to allow it to go ahead. Many agree that the people’s right to protest publicly and peacefully must be respected and should only be prevented in the most exceptional circumstances. There are restrictions and processes to follow and clearly the Metropolitan Police Commissioner did not believe that the justification for a ban existed.

Earlier the same day there was a two-minute silence held across the UK in tribute to the nation’s war dead and a march past the Cenotaph in Whitehall in central London of 10,000 veterans and 800 armed forces personnel from all three services, together with the laying of wreaths – and this was followed on Remembrance Sunday by the traditional laying of wreaths during a separate ceremony at the Cenotaph.

Meanwhile, in response to the violence that did occur, the British Prime Minister has condemned what he called the “violent, wholly unacceptable scenes we have seen today from the English Defence League and associated groups and Hamas sympathisers attending the National March for Palestine”.