Windsor tenacity

Looking at the newly published pictures of HM The Queen and her three male heirs in line of succession, I am reminded that some time ago I posted some speculative trivia predicting how the British throne would pass from generation to generation. Let’s try that again. Continue reading

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Jefferson on French ladies

Thomas Jefferson on the difference in life styles between Frenchwomen and American ladies Continue reading

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Why do the people?

One by one, rich Western democracies have been undergoing voters’ revolts against the status quo: populist insurgencies overturning party political norms and taking bites out of allegedly uncaring, washed-up governing elites.  Continue reading

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La reine le veult

Elizabeth II

Elizabeth II

So the queen is alleged to favour Brexit.  Whether or not she does side with the Outs doesn’t matter.  As monarch, she is not supposed to have any political opinions at all.  Or, to be more specific, Elizabeth Windsor can think what she likes; Elizabeth II on the other hand must remain neutral and silent on any such issue.  That is what constitutional monarchy means.

We the people have reminded the monarchy about this on several occasions, notably in 1215, 1649, 1688-1689, 1834 and 1936.  As a recent play pointed out, it will be a rule that Charles III should bear in mind from the very beginning of his reign.  Not too difficult, surely.

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Brexit Now?

Dammit, it’s happened again.  Every time I want to post something intelligent about current affairs, a columnist writes up the same issue far more quickly and fluently than I ever could.  The worst offender is Simon Jenkins.  He writes like an angel, clearly works fast and I agree with almost everything he says.  Now it’s Jonathan Freedland on the subject of the sovereignty of postmodern states.

“The UK has not somehow lost its sovereignty by being in the EU. Parliament can simply repeal the European Communities Act of 1972 and we’d be out. MPs could do it now without a referendum if they wanted. Such is the power of a sovereign nation.”

Can this be true?   If it is, let’s think it through.  It is surely the case that if David Cameron loses the referendum – that is, the Leavers win – then he would have to resign, or, if he doesn’t, be subjected to a vote of No Confidence in the House.  The Conservatives being well and truly split on the Brexit issue, there is no guarantee that he would survive this.  He or Osborne would have to go to the country.

That means a dissolution followed by a general election fought on the basis of this single issue.  Labour would fight that election, on the case for staying in, by arranging a tactical single-issue coalition with the SNP (for a price) and picking up some Tory votes as well.  If that coalition wins, the 1972 Act remains on the statute book and Jeremy Corbyn becomes prime minister.  The Corn Laws all over again.  Have I got this right?

 

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Looking backwards

Years ago it was still possible to make use of a direct train service between Oxford and Cambridge. A single-track two-carriage diesel unit ambled slowly from village to village or hamlet halt along the way, crossing the West Coast main line at Bletchley. Now the track has been cut down into unconnected lengths and it is the X5 five counties coach service that runs several times a day between the two ancient cities; beloved by me, who went to school in Oxford and university in Cambridge.

One thing that the coach does not offer, however, is a rear view for passengers. Taking the train always held out the opportunity to move to the back and take one of the rearward facing seats there. There was nothing quite like slumping there, with the sound of the diesel engine burbling underfoot, and watching beneath half-shut eyelids the countryside slip by through the hot, sunny afternoon, the farms and copses steadily receding towards a flat East Anglian horizon.

Remembering those summer journeys is to recall how the bridges and signal boxes appeared to view, now large beside the track, then dwindling away to vanishing point as the train ambled inexorably onwards, leaving all such features behind. So it has been throughout the years between there and here, then and now, as receding distance exacts its toll on what we think important, resizing all the events and interpretations of our lives to features newly dimensioned, to be resized in turn, all along the track.

Looking backwards redraws our history. By comfort or threat it diminishes what we once thought of as great. But it only works if you acknowledge its basic reality: that all the while you are watching the past recede, with all the various regrets and rewards that brings, you are inescapably travelling forward towards a different perspective, with its own gifts and anguish still to come.

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Around here

We live in Hanslope, a village in Buckinghamshire.  This morning I asked a local craftsman if he was ‘around here.’ He said no – his family was from Castlethorpe, these past 350 years. So, not from here.

Castlethorpe is all of a mile and a half away.  You can walk there across the fields, but it is still a way different from around here.

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Britain’s Foreign Legion

Being in hospital these past 20 days – Milton Keynes General, with a fractured hip – brings into focus, as nothing else could, the workings, care and ethos of the National Health Service. Seen at bed level, as it were, the NHS  gives a striking picture of dedication to patient well-being: tenderness and respect; endless patience and humaneness. But these traditionally British virtues (as one would like to think so) are being deployed by a workforce that is 40% non-British. Does Ukip know that and appreciate its implications? Where would the NHS and we be if immigration policies were allowed to compromise the work and commitment of this, our own foreign legion, through thoughtlessness?

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Unreal nobility

AristocratsI already knew that pre-revolutionary France had a great many people were aristocrats – they throng the pages of Nancy Mitford and Antonia Fraser – but I was unaware how many were fake. Now I am fascinated to read that “in 1788 the royal genealogist Antoine Maugard estimated that, at most, a quarter of noble titles [in France] were genuine.” (Beckman, J  How to ruin a queen. London 2014, p21) citing Chasset, A Les nobles et les villains du temps passé. Paris, 1857. p208)

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Rio De Janeiro, 1846

A lady traveller’s impressions of imperial Brazil include this vignette, courtesy of Project Gutenberg:

“I was fortunate enough during my stay in Rio Janeiro to witness several different public festivals.

The first was on the 21st of September, in the Church of St. Cruz, on the occasion of celebrating the anniversary of the patron saint of the country.  Early in the morning several hundred soldiers were drawn up before the church, with an excellent band, which played a number of lively airs.  Between ten and eleven, the military and civil officers began gradually to arrive, the subordinate ones, as I was told, coming first.  On their entrance into the church, a brownish-red silk cloak, which concealed the whole of the uniform, was presented to each.  Every time that another of a higher rank appeared, all those already in the church rose from their seats, and advancing towards the new comer as far as the church door, accompanied him respectfully to his place.  The emperor and his wife arrived the last of all.  The emperor [Pedro II] is extremely young—not quite one and twenty—but six feet tall, and very corpulent; his features are those of the Hapsburg-Lothering family.  The empress, a Neapolitan princess, is small and slim, and forms a strange contrast when standing beside the athletic figure of her husband.

High mass, which was listened to with great reverence by every one, began immediately after the entrance of the court, and after this was concluded the imperial pair proceeded to their carriage, presenting the crowd, who were waiting in the church, their hands to kiss as they went along.  This mark of distinction was bestowed not only on the officers and officials of superior rank, but on every one who pressed forward to obtain it.”

Pedro II

Pedro II

From Ida Pfeiffer A woman’s journey round the world.  Vienna, 1850 ch 2

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