Charles III’s challenge: Keep Britain’s monarchy relevant

Britain’s Royal Collection catalog calls them, simply, “The Spurs.”

Yet nothing about last weekend’s coronation of King Charles III could be described as simple.

These particular spurs – gold, with velvet-cloaked leather – were the first of the regalia presented to the king just before he was crowned under the majestic medieval roof of Westminster Abbey. And like the crown itself, they dated from the coronation of the last English king to be named Charles: Charles II, over three-and-a-half centuries ago, in 1661.

They formed a small, yet indispensable part of a meticulously choreographed celebration embracing its roots in England’s history and established church, and bookmarked by public spectacle complete with gilded carriages and serried ranks of lock-stepped soldiery.

But the coronation, and the thousands of community events organized around it nationwide, also carried a very contemporary political message, not just for Britain but also for other democracies, like the United States, strained by increasingly angry political, economic, and social divisions.

It was a reminder of the importance of institutions that are able to stand above that fray, standing instead for a shared understanding of history that provides ballast and stability, to offer a focal point not for what is pulling people apart, but for what they have in common.

And as King Charles III is keenly aware, it was a reminder of the delicate task he now faces in retaining that role for the monarchy – an issue that had faded in importance amid the popular affection built up by his mother, Queen Elizabeth II, during her seven decades on the throne.

Charles’ challenge is to modernize the monarchy. But not modernize it too much.

The pull in both directions was evident over the coronation weekend.

The Abbey service was steeped in tradition: The king was anointed with oil, drawing his authority from God, not voters, and pledging his loyalty to the established church. But aware that only 2% of the British population still regularly attends Church of England services, and that most of his subjects are not Christians, he included representatives of other faiths as well in the service.

In a reflection of the need to forge a bond of his own with Britons, he opened proceedings by declaring, “I come not to be served, but to serve.”

And the congregation included representatives of charities and community groups, a recognition that while the monarchy enjoys huge wealth and privilege, millions are struggling to cope with double-digit inflation, housing shortages, and creaking public services.

Still, despite recent polls suggesting an erosion of support for the monarchy, the coronation weekend left little doubt that there is still broad support for the institution – not so much in spite of its remoteness from the realities of everyday life and everyday politics, but because of this.

Tens of thousands thronged into central London on coronation day. More than 20 million watched on television. Family celebrations, pub get-togethers, street parties, and volunteer events were held across the country in the two days that followed. They were punctuated by chants of “God Save the King” – some full-throated, some self-conscious, some no doubt ironic, but all part of a convergence that is increasingly rare in Britain, as elsewhere in the world.

Still, it is in defining the nature of the monarch’s political role – embodying an overarching unity of purpose, especially at a time of partisanship and waning trust in government institutions – that King Charles III may find his greatest difficulty.

That’s because a large part of his new job is essentially to follow a script.

He is head of state. But in day-to-day terms, that’s a fiction. The monarch ostensibly invites a party leader to form a government after a national election, but the choice has been made by the voters. The King’s speech, opening Parliament with a run-down of legislative plans, is delivered by the monarch as well. “My government,” he says, will do this or that. But his words are written by the prime minister.

And here’s the main challenge for Charles: in those moments when he does speak in his own voice, he will need to steer clear of politics, choosing themes and words that resonate equally with right and left, young and old, poor and privileged.

His late mother did this without fail, from the time she became queen in her early 20s, and perhaps never more powerfully and eloquently than during the pandemic.

As heir, however, Charles spent one of the world’s longest apprenticeships expressing strong opinions on all sorts of things, from architecture and agriculture to religion and refugee policy.

To continue to do so would risk tension with Britain’s elected leaders – as he well knows, since over the years government ministers have on numerous occasions appealed quietly to him to stay out of partisan political debates.

It could also court disaster. The king’s crown has raised the stakes considerably, demanding that Charles III stand above the rancor and division of day-to-day politics. For if he were to allow the monarchy to become just another political institution, its glitter would be reduced to glitz.