THE platinum jubilee celebrations signal a big effort by the British state to promote the monarchy as a symbol of national unity.
Possibly too big, at least for our 96-year-old Queen, who was unable to attend all planned events.
Like the strained attempts to boost the brand of her heir in recent months — such as Prince Charles’s bizarre Eastenders cameo — the bombast points to nervousness about the succession, and more widely about the legitimacy of the British state.
The causes of concern are obvious. Most of the pillars of ruling-class power have suffered a serious loss of prestige.
It’s hard to say when the rot began; there is always a prior scandal.
But the lies Tony Blair told to sell war on Iraq permanently eroded trust that the holder of the land’s highest office could be relied on to tell the truth to public and Parliament.
The expenses scandal shredded the reputation of Westminster, revealing the “mother of parliaments” as a den of thieves. The bankers’ crash exploded the idea that the financial wizards in the City could be trusted with the enormous economic power they still wield.
The media’s antics from phone-hacking to ludicrously partisan political coverage have shattered any notion that Britain’s mainstream press is concerned with ethics or even accurate reporting.
The police stand exposed by Hillsborough, spycops and subsequent scandals as deeply corrupt, dishonest and violent; the murder of Sarah Everard and February’s reports of Charing Cross officers sharing vile racist, sexist and homophobic jokes have seen their name sink deeper into the mud.
As these instruments of Establishment rule have lost public confidence so has Britain itself.
The Brexit vote and the huge left revival when Jeremy Corbyn led Labour were fundamentally anti-Establishment movements, rooted in rejection of the way things are, if not agreed on the way to fix them.
Both caused deep, bitter polarisation. The Conservatives are too shrewd to imagine these divisions are history simply because a concerted ruling-class effort succeeded in routing Corbyn.
The flood of authoritarian legislation from this government shows it expects and fears new waves of civil unrest.
Nor can they guarantee that the United Kingdom will hold together indefinitely. The republican Sinn Fein is now the largest party in both Northern and the Republic of Ireland; the Scots have again elected a government pledged to independence. The Conservative and Labour approach to these questions is to stick their heads in the sand and drape themselves in Union Jacks; this is no substitute for a serious debate on our constitutional future.
There remains the monarchy. Yet even this hallowed institution is looking shaky.
The Queen’s reputation has survived embarrassing episodes like the discovery in the Panama Papers that she stashed millions in offshore tax havens; she remains widely popular.
But it doesn’t follow that this popularity extends to the institution she heads.
Prince Andrew’s relationship with paedophile Jeffrey Epstein and the £12 million payoff to a woman who accused him of abusing her as a minor have disgusted the nation.
The furore over the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s decision to decamp to the United States is partly concocted, but allegations of racism have the ring of truth and the high-profile desertion cannot help but damage the brand. Nor, for all the recent attempts to big him up, is Prince Charles anything approaching a unifying national figure.
The state has pulled out all the stops this weekend, and millions will enjoy the celebrations; it’s easy to enjoy a break and a party, one reason governments been careful to avoid giving legitimacy to the labour movement holiday May Day by tying the bank holiday to the actual May 1 date.
But the Queen is a frail figure on whom to pin hopes of restoring popular legitimacy to the British ruling class — and when she is gone, its problems will only deepen.
