Peter Rhodes on demonstrators, a sword bearer and how time changes minds
After police detained protestors during the Coronation, a spokesman for Just Stop Oil whined: “We are sleepwalking into fascism.”
This is an example of what we might call Lineker's Law which states that when you introduce the Nazis into a debate on English politics, you've lost the argument.
Far from witnessing a descent into totalitarianism, thousands of Brits who have had their plans wrecked by the road blockers, slow marchers and gantry climbers saw Saturday's police action as payback time.
The demonstrators claim they are peaceful. Since when has a megaphone among horses been peaceful? Their aim was to yell “Not My King” every time the monarch's name was mentioned in the Abbey. In other words, they were disrupting onlookers' enjoyment of a sacred ceremony, thus interfering with the basic human right of religious assembly. King Charles upholds that right. The demonstrators clearly do not. If these zealots ruled our country, I'm not sure they would govern us kindly.
Anyway, how would Just Stop Oil or any such organisation react if people with megaphones and vuvuzelas infiltrated their AGM and drowned out their speakers? I bet they'd call the police.
Now the plastic Coronation tat has been lovingly folded away (to be ignored by future generations and eventually chucked in a skip), one reader recalls how the humble Coronation mugs of 1953 added a new put-down to our language. He was a teacher, enjoying generous holidays. His neighbour, an old Black Country manual worker, would chide him with: “Yo 'ave mooer 'olidays than a Coronation mug-mekker.”
Some say the lack of support for the King among younger people spells doom for the monarchy. Back in 1977, when I was reasonably young, I was so keen to avoid Silver Jubilee street parties and suchlike that I fled on a canal holiday. Forty six years on, I watched the entire ceremony, went to two street parties and loved every minute of it. We age. We change.
Finally, another word of praise for Penny Mordaunt MP who, in her role as Lord President of the Council, held two heavy ceremonial swords for ages during the ceremony with no visible signs of weariness. There is something of the Boadicea about her.