The queen's death raises questions about the future of the monarchy

For now, a nation mourns.

And then what?

The Queen is dead, long live The . . .

What exactly?

The succession is clear. Prince Charles is now King Charles III. He has met his prime minister and addressed the nation. The functions performed by his mother now fall to him. The role played by her is now played by him. The vast supporting cast that worked for her now works for him.

But what of the respect and admiration of her subjects? What of their readiness to accept her as their sovereign? What of their willingness to tolerate the continuation of an anachronistic institution because it was headed by her?

Does all or any of that automatically translate to Charles? Will the initial gush of support for him endure?

Elizabeth ascended at a different time, when Britain’s people felt a different kind of tie to their monarch, when the institution exuded a certain magisterial quality. Her influence depended on their willingness to embrace the monarchy itself, to believe in its necessity and legitimacy, to accept that a single family line, the House of Windsor, was destined to produce worthy kings and queens.

Charles suffers first from bad timing. We live in a different world now. Our relationship to illusion has changed.

Elizabeth allowed her subjects to believe they were still a world power. She was the link to the empire. When you looked at her, you saw the image of that glory. Her death signals the end of that conceit. That is Charles’ second problem: He cannot summon her magic. He lacks his mother’s charisma, her common touch, and many of her skills, and does not enjoy the reverence she earned. Elizabeth was proof that essential goodness, apparent selflessness, sheer longevity, and a connection to greatness can put a buff on tarnished silver. Can the monarchy survive her passing?

Will Operation London Bridge, the plan for a smooth transition from Elizabeth to Charles, deliver the monarchy to safer shores? Or will it prove to be an unfortunately apt metaphor for an institution that might indeed be about to fall down? How long can it continue with one foot planted firmly in antiquity, the other wobbling unsteadily into modernity, a clash most visibly seen in the rancorous departure from royal duties of Harry and Meghan. What would its survival or collapse say about our need for a leader whom we believe puts our well-being first?

One source of Elizabeth’s strength was that she never made the monarchy about her. She rarely gave interviews, never did self-promotion, never boasted or crowed or sought the spotlight, a self-abnegation appreciated by her subjects and observers around the world. Even young Brits who were at best apathetic about the monarchy admired the queen.

The meticulously plotted process toward the coronation of Charles will be a study of the relative importance of the person versus the institution. From which comes the strength? In the United States, we’ve seen dramatic proof of the importance of both individuals and institutions in keeping a nation strong. In a republic, at least, you need both.

But in the immediate aftermath of Elizabeth’s death, many of her subjects came down decisively for the queen. Elizabeth, they said, was more or less single-handedly keeping Britain going during uncertain times marked by economic struggles, self-estrangement from the rest of Europe, and a diminished standing in the world. She was the glue, they said, without whom they’d be lost.

It’s another illusion, of course, but illusions are powerful. And sometimes self-fulfilling. Britain could always count on Elizabeth. Sometimes maddeningly, sometimes remotely, but always dependably. If it expects now to be rudderless, well . . .

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown?

In Britain, uneasy lies the crown.  

 COLUMNIST MICHAEL DOBIE’S opinions are his own.

By Michael Dobie

michael.dobie1@newsday.commwdobie

Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.