More Brits Find Monarchy Isn’t Their Cup of Tea

Just before he was forced to abdicate the throne of Egypt in 1952, King Farouk I said, “Soon there will be only five kings left in the world--of England, Diamonds, Spades, Clubs and Hearts.”

He was partially right. Half a century later, there are still a fair number of crowned heads dotting the world, but few have the preeminence of the British monarchy--an institution that over the years has inspired fascination, revulsion, respect, amusement, slavish loyalty and unwavering hostility, and that for 50 years has been represented in the figure of a small, staid, rather middle-class-looking woman, Queen Elizabeth II.

This year marks her Golden Jubilee. Although the date of her accession to the throne fell earlier this month, the celebrations, as is the tradition in Britain’s unreliable climate, are planned for the summer, despite the recent death of her sister, Princess Margaret. These include a ceremonial procession through the streets of London, the usual flow of commemorative memorabilia, and the lighting of nationwide bonfires. Also, in Prime Minister Tony Blair’s new populist “people’s Britain,” a massive open-air pop concert is planned for one of the royal parks.

Among the people, however, the mood in Britain has been one of indifference, prompting one of the country’s main tabloid papers to launch a “Save the Jubilee” campaign. The hoped-for organization of street parties--a peculiarly British form of celebrating, whereby residential streets are closed for a communal party festooned with flags and balloons--shows little sign of materializing.

But what about British expats? There are something like 450,000 of us living in Southern California, the largest such concentration in the world. Aren’t we meant to become ever more British, the longer we’re away? Will we be toasting the queen, a figure who is meant to act as a focus for our patriotism, a kind of president and Stars and Stripes rolled into one?

Official bodies in Los Angeles are planning to do their bit. For the black tie and medals types, the British consulate with the British American Business Council and a number of other British organizations are holding a Grand Queen’s Ball on June 15 at the Regent Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills. The Los Angeles branch of the British Academy of Film & Television Arts will mark the event in May and June by screening a British film from each decade of the queen’s reign. The thousand or so members will vote on exactly which films will be shown.

Less official, but just as traditional perhaps, the best-known British pub in L.A., the King’s Head in Santa Monica, will hold a special all-comers welcome party in June to celebrate the event, rather like it did 11/2 years ago for the queen mother’s 100th birthday.

King’s Head manager Nicola Coleman, a royalist who’s been here 10 years, keeps in touch with what’s happening in the home country and follows the activities of the royal family. “The Americans have celebrities; we have the royals.” She expects that the King’s Head party will prove a big success. “Our regular expat customers are, I would say, very patriotic.” Next door to the pub, the gift shop is already selling the traditional mugs, tea towels and trinkets emblazoned with the queen’s image. “We find they sell very well to both British and American customers,” says manager Ruth Elwell.

Such enthusiasm, however, is far from universal among the British here. During the three years I’ve been in L.A. I’ve found a certain nostalgic attachment for the monarchy has reasserted itself, but the reactions among my British friends and colleagues are varied, though primarily negative.

In some part, the British are more reticent than Americans when it comes to expressing national pride. Even so, for many, the royals seem to play no part in any sense of nationality, and the thought of celebrating the queen’s milestone has barely occurred to them.

“In the U.K., I just accepted them as part of life,” says Frances Anderton, a radio producer who’s been in L.A. for a decade. “But now, I’ve come to see the royal family as a complete anachronism. I can understand the argument that it maybe creates a certain stability in society, but I find that since being in America, it’s increasingly hard for me to take a royal family whose position is based solely on accident of birth. Its presence sustains the class system.”

Anderton retains “a devotion of sorts” to her homeland, but, she says, “it’s nothing to do with the existence of the royal family. I see the queen as representing the U.K. as Big Historical Theme Park.”

Whether or not Elizabeth II is simply the head of a heritage industry, her face is recognizable all over the world. The institution she represents fascinates many Americans who otherwise consider themselves fiercely democratic, and countless thousands of U.S. tourists have stood outside Buckingham Palace, gazing through the railings, hoping for a sighting.

Yet she has no political power and has made no public pronouncements of any consequence. And, as a person, she is virtually unknown, a mystery even to the British. But her symbolic importance is potent. Her decision to fly the American flag outside the palace after Sept. 11 struck just as much of a chord among Americans as did Blair’s endless globe-trotting on behalf of President Bush.

But finding a place in the hearts of Americans won’t keep her in the hearts of her subjects. “She is at the pinnacle of a class system, which I’m glad I’ve escaped,” says journalist Mike Goodridge, who came to California four years ago. In L.A., he finds that the royals have disappeared from his life. “I even find it jarring to see headlines about them here, such as Prince Harry in trouble over drinks and drugs or whatever. It’s intrusive, and I’m happy to be away from all that.”

The last such royal celebration--excluding weddings--was the Silver Jubilee marking the 25th year of Elizabeth II’s reign in 1977. Taking place during a time of recession and social upheaval in England, the occasion nevertheless saw an enormous and unexpected outpouring of royalist enthusiasm. But Britain has changed profoundly since then. In today’s harsh tabloid world, every move of the royals makes headlines, stripping away the reverence surrounding the monarchy.

At the same time, there has been a decline in Britain’s confidence in its traditional view of itself. There is no longer a widespread value put on the characteristics for which Britain was known--the stiff upper lip, the tightly controlled emotions--characteristics with which Elizabeth II is still identified. This was never better illustrated than at the time of Princess Diana’s death, when the queen, for the first time in her reign, was ridiculed for her supposed lack of the correct emotional response. British actress and producer Barbara Steele, who has lived in L.A. for more than 20 years, says for the royals to have meaning, they should retain a theatrical, iconic quality. “The monarchy’s been demystified,” she says. “The monarch should somehow be a larger-than-life figure that transcends the institution.”

This is difficult in contemporary Britain, where the brilliant, almost seductive ceremony traditionally associated with royalty seems increasingly peripheral. “She [Queen Elizabeth] has the most appalling job, a life sentence of officialdom, endlessly cutting ribbons in the rain,” Steele says. “The fact that she hasn’t cracked is phenomenal.”

It’s hard for younger people who’ve grown up during the almost ceaseless and largely critical media coverage of the monarchy during the past decade to appreciate that older generations may feel a personal connection, even sympathy, for the queen.

“I have a great respect for this woman,” says Vanessa Mitchell, who’s lived between London and L.A. for the past 40 years and will certainly be raising a glass of champagne to celebrate the Jubilee. “She behaves in a way that gives other people an example, though unfortunately her children haven’t.”

The queen, she thinks, has suffered from a “boring public image, which is really not her fault. One doesn’t warm to her, as a persona. She doesn’t appear interesting, and, physically, she’s an awkward woman. But I have a great deal of respect for her, for what she’s been through. I’d fight tooth and nail for the monarchy to survive. It’s all we’ve got.”

This sentiment is echoed in the conservative press in Britain, as the country continues to argue with itself about further assimilation into a greater Europe. Even as the first Queen Elizabeth reigned over a period of great expansion, with England emerging as a superpower, the second has presided over economic decline and the gradual devolution of a once-united kingdom, all of which adds to a growing sense of loss of identity.

To many, the queen increasingly resembles an elaborate figure atop a decaying wedding cake. But even those Brits, thousands of miles away in L.A., who feel little sense of allegiance toward the monarchy, would not necessarily campaign for its abolition.

Tina Jenkins, a screenwriter who has lived here for 41/2 years, typifies a more middle-of-the-road attitude toward the royals. “I wouldn’t do anything proactively to celebrate the Jubilee,” she says. “Their mystery is gone, and they have too much wealth. They are unimpressive. But they have a value to the state. Living here in L.A., I see their purpose more clearly. They act as a target for criticism without there being any important ramifications.”

More than such lukewarm support is needed for the monarchy to flourish. It’s possible support might build in Britain nearer to June, and expat Brits might find that a residual sentimentality gets the better of them, spurring spontaneous Jubilee house parties. But if the whole affair is truly lackluster, then it could be that Elizabeth II will go down in history with an unexpected importance: as the Last British Monarch.