The Queen has left a void that Britain will struggle to fill
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Version 0 of 1. We should mourn a paragon of duty and devotion, say readers in response to the death of Queen Elizabeth II, but also take stock of the role of the monarchy Jonathan Freedland’s article is a minor masterpiece: astute, tactful, with more distance than a simple obituary, a tribute that captures the essence of the place in British society of this distant, little-known, intensely private public person, whose very aloofness inspired affection (The Queen’s death will shake this country deeply – she was a steady centre amid constant flux, 8 September). Born in 1954, I have only known Elizabeth as sovereign. Living in France, I have chosen a republic in preference to a constitutional monarchy. The British monarchy is, unwittingly, the linchpin of the social conservatism and sense of class that I fled 35 years ago – and that Boris Johnson and that privileged clique, astonishingly, continue to embody in 21st-century Britain. And yet, on the evening of Queen Elizabeth II’s death, I felt a genuine sadness at her passing and respect for her personal contribution to the country. My mother, two years older than the Queen, died in May, having lived through the unparalleled transfer of the world that Freedland describes so well. That personal perspective helps me appreciate what the Queen had to assimilate, in terms of change, and her ability to adapt her role as times changed. As Freedland says, she rarely initiated that change; but she navigated it astutely and – of course, within a framework of privilege and inherited wealth that is shocking – displayed qualities of dignity, devotion to duty and integrity from which many political leaders today could learn. However, now she is gone. It’s going to be strange and tough to get used to “King Charles III”. And maybe we should not get used to it. The Queen’s passing and the loss of this seemingly eternal reference point in the national consciousness are an opportunity for the country truly to take stock of our constitutional system – and to question the value of a constitutional monarchy and of a constitution based on convention. Gratitude to the individual who served her country so loyally should not prevent us from a genuine national debate about the best future set-up for the country. Tim Stevens Camaret-sur-Mer, France Polly Toynbee provides a sober meditation on the Queen that copes well with the tightrope walk between tribute and analysis (In grieving for the Queen, we also mourn the losses in our own lives, 8 September). However, in trying to capture the essence of the special relationship so many felt they had with the Queen, there’s a wobble: “The magic of majesty is in its divine destiny.” Even at this sensitive moment – perhaps especially so – it is important to remind ourselves that the unique position enjoyed by the monarchy is constitutionally, not divinely, ordained and succession is a political, not a spiritual, gift. We have been extremely fortunate to have had a monarch whose personal attributes and conduct were held in such affection. The strength and even the meaning of the institution she represented depends upon the character and idiosyncrasies of its incumbents to a far greater extent than we like to admit – and we only have to imagine a personality with whom we are uncomfortable to test the value of a monarchy deriving its legitimacy from a constitution we can influence, rather than divinity in which we must have faith. Queen Elizabeth II was a blessing. She could just as easily have been a curse. Paul McGilchrist Colchester, Essex At this sad time I have to recall 1953, and the Queen’s coronation. My dear dad took my elder brother and me to London to experience it. “You may never see the like of this again,” he said. He was nearly right. It poured with rain most of the day and I remember especially the moments: Churchill’s horse, for example, starting to play up and the old man simply giving us the V for victory sign and moving on. A great occasion in many respects, and now we acknowledge King Charles III and another reign... autres temps, autres mœurs. Antony Barlow Wallington, Surrey I was born to English parents – we left England for Ireland in 1967, when I was 11. I very much agree with Jonathan Freedland’s assessment that the Queen’s death will shake Britain, and England in particular I suspect, very deeply. But I feel her death will impact much further afield, too. In a time of huge uncertainty, in which more than a few dangerous fools have come to the fore, she was (perhaps despite her privilege as much as because of it) a calming presence. “Self-restraint, a conspicuous sense of duty and an old-fashioned work ethic” are much needed at the moment, to say nothing of what seemed to be a canny diplomacy and a genuine warmth of character. I feel a sense of loss – more than I thought I would. Some of it is personal: what feels like a last link to that part of my childhood in England is gone. Some of it is political and rests in the hope that some of her qualities may be found in leaders of the present and the future. Keith Troughton Dublin, Ireland When the Queen died on Thursday, our mum, who died aged 94 eight years ago, died all over again. Born in 1920, six years older than the Queen, she shared her experience of living through the war, and also shared her sense of dignity, duty and service, and the great skill of listening – rather than talking, really listening. As I absorbed the news, I cried for my mum, for the Queen and for the loss of a generation from whom we have so much to learn. Lesley Morrison Peebles, Scottish Borders Polly Toynbee is spot-on in her article. When I heard the news, I had the strangest feeling that I ought to call my sibling to inform them, as if it were our own mother. I suddenly realised that in some way, a very strong mother figure has now left my life. The Queen occupied the extraordinary position of monarch, while, to many of us, also occupying a very personal place in our hearts and minds. Carolyn Sutton Glastonbury, Somerset On Thursday, my son took me to see the European Space Agency astronaut Tim Peake at Leicester’s De Montfort Hall. Sadly, this birthday treat will be remembered not for Tim’s riveting recollections, but because it was the day we lost our Queen. It was, and still is, difficult to believe that the modern Elizabethan era has come to an end. On the day the Queen was born in 1926, biplanes were taking to the skies, and on the last day of her life, the Nasa Artemis project was preparing to put astronauts back on the moon and onwards to Mars. I hope there is a rocket man taking the Queen to be reunited with her beloved Prince Philip. Gary Freestone Leicester In life there are very few iconic leaders who surpass the parameters of a life they were born into; Queen Elizabeth II was one of those unique individuals who transcended their role. We will never forget her. Daniel Kowbell Mississauga, Canada Have an opinion on anything you’ve read in the Guardian today? Please email us your letter and it will be considered for publication. |