Malcolm Turnbull’s recent election to leader of the Liberal Party and Federal Opposition Leader will no doubt reignite the question of Australia becoming a republic. This debate appears to have only two answers – the status quo - English monarch, or a republic. Admittedly, on the republic side there are variations on a theme – should we have a directly-elected President or one elected by the parliament. Populist sentiment would recommend direct election while more sanguine commentators say this will lead to a US style election campaign which means only the elite, or those backed by the elite, can really participate.

Of course, there is much to recommend a monarchy in the 21st century. In fact, the stateliness and continuity of such an institution is a neat counterpoint to the short-term nature of so much else in our lives. News, politics, investments, employment and for some, relationships, are increasingly about immediacy as though the natural ebb and flow of life is drowned out by a frenetic and constant staccato. A monarchy on the other hand can be a benevolent relatively permanent institution of which the church is the only rival. It can provide a moral counter to the Prime Minister and the Government of the day. It can play the social role of a grandparent – not as involved as a parent, but sympathetic and intensely interested. It can be a legitimate commentator on the happenings of the day without becoming embroiled in political mud-slinging, and it can have the detached authority to calm social uneasiness.
Two examples from the past half century: in Thailand – the only South-East Asian country never to have been colonised, His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej is held in extremely high regard. He has been King of Thailand since 1946. Several times over the past two decades, Thailand’s King has intervened when a coup occurred or was about to occur. So deeply is he revered that no general in his right mind would challenge the King’s authority. Only he had the authority and respect to command the rival coup leaders including the military to reach agreement. By this means, much potential bloodshed was averted.

In Spain in February 1981 – five years after the death of General Franco – there was an attempted military coup involving 200 Guardia Civil storming the Congress of Deputies (the Parliament) for about 18 hours. The entire country sat on the edge of its seat wondering if civil war was about to erupt. King Juan Carlos reminded the heads of military – army, navy and air force –that they owed their allegiance to him and that they should do nothing. Five years earlier, not long after Franco’s death, Juan Carlos, the newly installed king was an unknown. He visited Barcelona – the scene of some of the worst atrocities toward the end of the Spanish Civil War forty years earlier. People were ambivalent about him. He was perceived by some to be weak, by others to be a representation of all that General Franco had stood for. There was a mood of a potential power vacuum if King Juan Carlos could not fill the void. He spoke to the assembled crowd in their native language Catalan (poorly by most accounts), which in the years following the war had been forbidden. The symbolism of that speech united a fragmented province and did much to stitch it back to the larger Spain.

In fact, monarchs can heal divides and unite peoples in a way politicians cannot. With a politician there is always a lingering cynicism about the ulterior motive, the kick-back or spin. With a monarch there is none of that, or less of that, at least. A monarch would have their country people’s best interests at heart. A monarch would want to see happiness and fulfilment the order of the day. And just as the British Prime Minister meets with the monarch each week, there must be a sense of being held to account even if the political reality is that the PM cannot be held to account by the monarch.

The objections to this proposal for an Australian citizen to be a monarch are likely to be legion. Let me anticipate some:

1. Monarchies are hereditary. How would we go about choosing who the monarch should be? The flippant answer might be to say the ‘Australian’ way would be to have giant meat raffle and see whose number comes up. While that may have popular appeal (similar to a direct election of a President), it would be certain to doom the proposal to a short, laughter-accompanied end. A sounder proposal would be to reach a short set of criteria – demonstrated community involvement, ability to talk with all types of people and other such criteria - and then for each Local Government Area in Australia to nominate two people, ideally a male and a female, who they believe best meet the criteria. Over a period of a few years we could decide. I recognise this risks sounding flippant but I can think of no more fair way. I also wonder if monarchies should have a span of fifty years after which we go through the process of re-electing a monarch. If they die or cannot continue between the fortieth and fiftieth year, then the position of monarch is left vacant. If they are forced to stop before that, then either their offspring have the option of filling the post, or we have another monarchical election. 

2. Where would they reside? Again, this is a question that bears less significance. One option could be that they have the same residency and pay arrangements as the Governor-General does now.  Another is that once a monarch was chosen, that they reside where they currently do – at home. Union secretariats move to where the new secretary resides. Ministers sometimes have their office in a different location to their department head office. Other organisations have shifting secretariats and executives. With mass communications today and transport options, the issue of where the monarch would reside is less significant.  

3. What would the monarch do? As mentioned above their function would be a counterweight to an increasingly centralised Federal government. They would also have a long-term perspective on issues and the capacity to do what was right, rather than what was politically expedient. The things that require a bipartisanship approach to work politically today are some of the things an Australian monarch could lend their weight most properly to. In Thailand the King sponsors education programs for underprivileged children, and a fresh eating program – the supply of vegetables and fruit to encourage healthy eating and to assure growers of a sustainable living.

In reality, they would also do many of the ceremonial things the Governor-General does today.  

Comments (1)

Subscribe to this comment's feed