Belfast 13th September 2022
A week ago it was POURING with rain in North East England. On the Monday it had been gloriously sunny and four of us had greatly enjoyed chasing the Tour of Britain in the Borders and being by the finishing line in Duns. I think I photographed the ultimate race winner Gonzalo Serrano who won in the most unexpected of circumstances. But to return to the Tuesday. It was a filthy day and the Cornish team St Pirren made the headlines as their team leader an ex stockbroker Alexandar Richardson retro engineered leadership by controlling the peloton from the breakway. A very rare feat which left David Millar in commentary breathless. The breakaway stayed away although Richardson had to settle for third.
Meanwhile elsewhere in Scotland much was happening. Liz Truss had been declared the new leader of the Tory party on Monday. On Tuesday the Queen had received both Johnson and Truss at Balmoral and Prime Ministerial power was exchanged. Now, reflect the Queen had gone to beloved Balmoral for the summer. She was on holiday and the Tories were fighting about leadership.
She could hardly be said to have seen eye to eye with Johnson. Johnson and Rees-Mogg had after all been to Balmoral in 2019 to persuade her to prorogue Parliament.
Two days after these audiences this week past in which she was described as alert but frail, she was dead. And the nation went into convulsions. But strange convulsions. No tragedy. This was sorrow and triumpth and it has become more than that. Because in her death the 96 year old Queen has masterminded a re-writing of contemporary Britishness. By which the entire establishment has been firmly reminded that England is one of four partner nations of the British Isles.
Suddenly all eyes are on Charles. He is undertaking a tour of the nations. The Queen is dead, Long Live the King. Everyone seemingly wants to shake the hand of sacred monarchy. Every turn has been about Christ and the Servant Queen. Scotland and its politicians discovers it is centre stage. The new English prime minister has to trek around and perform something of an also ran function.
This could not have been clearer in today's visit to Belfast and Hillsborough. I wonder if anything like today could have occured in 1997? I watched end to end the service in Belfast St Anne's Cathedral. Civic religion can sometimes leave me conflicted. this was ELECTRIC. It deserves to be watched several times. The camera caught Liz Truss more than once. She looked liked a woman who having planned one set of actions a few days ago was now squashed by events which were conspiring to impress on her the need to execute several U turns.
The sight of Alex Maskey the bruiser, reading Phillipians with total conviction. The realisation that this was an ALL IRELAND event. The President of Ireland and his wife sat across the aisle from the new King and his consort. Immediately after the service, Charles went and greeted the President and his wife. In the warmest of ways there was clear mutual encouragement. The new UK PM just one place down in the pew had to stay silent.
The sermon from the Archbishop of Armagh will go down in history. So will the Celtic blessing delivered by multiple Church leaders. The Archbishop made clear how much the Christian leadership of the Queen had achieved and in eye to eye contact with an acknowledged acceptance the new King was clearly committed to his mother's agenda.
If anyone can tell me how many citizens of the Republic were in the congregation please do. A considerable number. There must have been some horse trainers? When Westminster politics restarts, the immediate need to solve the energy bills will be no less urgent. And yet it is as if with a summer, aged 96 to reflect in Balmoral, the Queen had resolved to bowl a googly at her politicians. These last few years have been dreadful. The EU referendum decision in which the UK pointedly did not learn from Ireland. The shambles and tragedy of covid in which whilst the Queen led in isolation, the PM partied and wriggled to cover his tracks have left the British very miserable. Our absolute need to unite around something else these 10 days are showing in rose petals. The shock of a new European war and a bully for an international leader have been very disturbing.
In Elizabeth's death there is suddenly a chance of a new beginning, a resurrection. We can even talk of the Saintliness of the former monarch. We can reflect that without the supercharged Grace of Love which she conveyed and which present politics does not, we are stuck. We need to rediscover ourselves as the British Isles with flexible models of government, and also as geographically determined wedded to Europe and not a Trans Pacific trading entity. Realism and humility along with faith and spirituality need to partner again in a civic religion we can all buy into and which She exemplified.
Rough edges? I was sad the Tour of Britain's last three stages were cancelled. One I could understand, black armbands would have been reasonable. And in a few minutes the Queen's body will probably fly in sight of Prudhoe. There will not be much we can do and the sight as in 1952 of the solemn passing of the Coffin on the Royal Train we have been denied.
