By Tristan Gray, Convenor of Our Republic
One year ago today, in a morbid and macabre tradition of the British constitution, a man’s mother died and he became one of the most powerful and influential people in the country as a result. His claim to this power came from nothing but the supposed special nature of his bloodline, blood whose purity is considered so sacrosanct that the potential of its tainting by people unlike himself led to one of his sons being hounded out of the country for who he fell in love with.
No one in Britain was asked if they agreed with this abrupt transfer of power tied to death and family, there was no vote on the transfer of significant political power over their laws and state. No one was consulted on whether this billionaire and his children should continue to be granted millions in public funds every year to live in grand palaces and be gifted the unparalleled power to review every piece of law and demand changes to benefit themselves. No council nor parliament held votes deciding whether or not this claimant should be showered with expensive processions and parades in his honour to burnish his ego.
No, all that triggered that barrelling change was a death in the family. That was not just considered sufficient. It was necessary for him to take what he felt entitled to.
But what of those who stood up and opposed this ludicrous and anachronistic charade? Who demanded people should have a choice over who gets to rule over them and spend their public funds on celebrations for themselves?
They were treated as threats. Not just to this outrageously entitled billionaire, but to the entire edifice of the British state propped up around him. Peaceful protesters were arrested for booing at his proclamation as King or holding placards, smeared as funeral crashers as if it wasn’t the institution itself that has unnecessarily married power with death so directly. Others were seized by police and held in prison for an entire day without charge so that the man could parade around the streets in a golden carriage without ever having to doubt that this was always meant to be his. They were attacked by the press as disloyal, abused across social media, in emails and letters, because how *dare* they question his right to all of this?
One year on, it’s crumbling.
Support for a change has risen to record-high levels across the UK. The Monarchy is backed by not even a third of young people across the UK. In just five years their belief that the Monarchy is good for Britain has collapsed from 60% to 30% and more are embarrassed by them than proud.
In Scotland, specifically, these numbers are even more dismal. Less than half of Scots continue to back this decaying institution, with those backing a Republic nearly matching their numbers after decades of being considered an irrelevance. The Scottish First Minister is an open republican, and when the King came to Scotland to try to cement his place here with yet another gold-trimmed parade barely anyone turned up to support him. Instead, he had to endure chants challenging his legitimacy through the service he expected to be no more than the unquestioning acceptance of his claim.
The Monarchy is failing. Between brothers clinging to ownership of Scottish cities whilst running from the law and continued interference in laws for their own benefit, the people are losing faith.
We can see change coming, it’s on the horizon, and one year into his reign Charles Windsor can see it too. He could hear it in Edinburgh two months ago, from his extravagant palace to the Church where fellow remnants of an obsolete past gathered to coddle him with soothing words that he really is special, he really is worthy of all of this, that only his blood runs blue enough.
Time is up. It’s not enough to see the change, to make it inevitable we must demand it. Let every year be another year Charles is reminded that he will be the last King in Scotland.
