Jeff Costello, an American, has given a fair expression of the meaning behind the coronation of King Charles. He rightly sees this as more than being about an individual, but as a symbolic set of acts, full of meaning and history. As we know, from American history, there is not much love of republicans for the constitutional monarchy, yet, with all the problems of the highly politicised, if not totally corrupt, presidency, Americans should rethink their antagonism. As Costello says, “This was a moment to face ourselves and see just how silly and vulgar we are. It was a moment to be humbled. This is one of the most important functions of tradition, and of the representatives of tradition, such as the royals: to remind us of greatness, of something greater than ourselves, so that we feel a call to rise, to be better than we are, to be worthy of our history, and to make our ancestors feel a little less nauseated when they look down at us, from wherever they are. It was the most beautiful ceremony I think I have ever witnessed (again, rivalled only by the Queen’s funeral) — and, to my surprise, it was also quite emotionally moving.”
Costello does not consider the wider Christian aspects of this, but what he says was a good start for an American, especially the point about seeing things greater than the individualism of liberal consumerism. As the philosopher David Stove wrote in his book Cricket Versus Republicanism (1995): “IT PASSES MY understanding how anyone with even a grain of sense can feel pleasure at the prospect of a republican Australia: an Australia, that is to say, even more "base, common and popular" than it is now. Anyway, I am myself for the British connection. In my World XI, Britons - Shakespeare, Purcell, Newton, Hume and Darwin - would be the first five picked. Either to the British exclusively, or to them more than to any other nation, the world owes, and Australia especially owes, whatever it has of scientific knowledge, sober philosophy, stable government without oppression - and cricket.
Only the British, and indeed, to tell the truth, only the English, could have invented this game. It requires gentlemanliness, and teaches it. This sounds like headmaster's talk circa 1938. It is, too. It is also true. I have seen cricket make gentlemen out of the most intractable. Australian materials, at least for four hours on Saturday afternoons, more times than I could count. It doesn't always work, of course; that would be unreasonable to expect.”
https://counter-currents.com/2023/05/the-mystery-of-constitutional-monarchy/
“Each element of the coronation — every garment worn, every object, every decoration, every color, every gesture, every choice of doors to enter and exit from, every line read or recited, every piece of music …— tells a story. Everything is rich with history and significance. And, unless they were putting on a very good act, every participant seemed, with their every gesture and expression, to communicate that they were aware of all these meanings and that they believed. It was the most sincere hour I’ve seen on television in a long time. No irony here, no glad-handing American insincerity; no high-fiving; no Elton John; and, most importantly, no Meaghan.
This was a moment to face ourselves and see just how silly and vulgar we are. It was a moment to be humbled. This is one of the most important functions of tradition, and of the representatives of tradition, such as the royals: to remind us of greatness, of something greater than ourselves, so that we feel a call to rise, to be better than we are, to be worthy of our history, and to make our ancestors feel a little less nauseated when they look down at us, from wherever they are. It was the most beautiful ceremony I think I have ever witnessed (again, rivalled only by the Queen’s funeral) — and, to my surprise, it was also quite emotionally moving.
This had to do almost entirely with King Charles himself. I studied his facial expressions carefully throughout the ceremony — as I am sure every viewer did. At 74, Charles is the oldest person ever to be crowned King of England. The coronation is the moment he had been preparing for his entire life. What is extraordinary is that he seemed genuinely humbled by the experience. He listened intently to everything that was said, and his eyes conveyed sincerity of belief. At times, he seemed emotionally moved — almost on the verge of tears. For many men, this would be the ultimate self-aggrandizing experience, but not for Charles. He seemed to feel the weight of history, and the burden of his high office.
At no point was this more palpable than when he was invested with all the paraphernalia of the monarch. Each object was carefully presented to him and explained. At some moments, he made eye contact with the individuals presenting the different ceremonial objects, and smiled at them benevolently. The objects that were not presented to him to wear and carry (such as the Great Golden Spurs), he caressed, as if he were touching holy relics loaded with mana. Each time he was invested with one of the objects he was meant to actually wear or carry — the coronation robes, the golden orb, the scepters, and, finally, the crown — his expression seemed to suggest that he received each as a burden, rather than as a treasure or a symbol of personal importance.
Of course, part of the reason for this is that these objects really are quite literally a burden: They are extremely heavy — so heavy that Charles had to be helped to stand up and sit down, and to walk. It was impossible for me not to feel sympathy for this old man, weighed down by these great burdens, received so late in life. Watch the video and you will see what I saw: Charles suffered. Yet these burdens were received at the right time: Charles certainly had time aplenty to reflect on the meaning of it all, and to avoid the mistake a younger man might make: thinking that all this was for him.
In fact, thousands filled the streets and £100 million ($125 million) was spent — not for Charles Philip Arthur George, but for what he represents. The ceremony is, in part, designed to effect this realization — in the onlookers, and also in the monarch himself. In the Coronation Chair, we are meant to realize, sits not a man, but Britain itself. I believe that even the weight of the ceremonial objects — the robes, crown, etc. — is intended to convey this to their bearer. Don’t rejoice, don’t imagine that this is a celebration of yourself, that weight seems to say. This is a cross to bear, not a gift. No one cares about you; all that matters is what you represent.