By David Osland

Britain will today dust off a gold-plated Hanoverian horse carriage and ginormous sparklers nicked from varying parts of an empire that no longer exists, and throw a £250m taxpayer-funded ceremony to mark the coronation of Charles III.

Formally speaking, this costly and elaborate event is entirely unnecessary. Mr Windsor has already been king since last September, ascending automatically to the throne on the death of his mother.

Instead, we are asked to see the show as just another of those quaint and quintessentially British historical customs, an exercise in harmless pseudo-feudal flummery that will more than pay for itself thanks to the additional tourism revenue it allegedly generates.

But there is more to it than that, not least on the ideological level. That can be seen from a newly-invented bolt-on to the coronation liturgy, lacking even the excuse of time-hallowed roots in tenth century Anglo-Saxon hokum.

The traditional Homage of the Peers will be replaced by the Homage of the People, with the public invited to swear allegiance to Charles III.

The Archbishop of Canterbury will call upon “all persons of goodwill in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and of the other realms and the territories to make their homage, in heart and voice, to their undoubted King, defender of all.”

The order of service will then read: “All who so desire, in the abbey, and elsewhere, say together: ‘I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God.’”

I do not so desire. I won’t even be watching this nonsense on telly, as I inadvertently booked a foreign holiday some time ago. Silly me.

The inevitable social media comparisons to North Korea when this was announced a few days ago are overblown. As several rightwing commentators have pointed out, participation is entirely voluntary, with no gulags for the recalcitrant.

But leaving it at that ducks the bigger issues surrounding political loyalty oaths. The words the public is being asked to utter are largely similar to those MPs must enunciate as a precondition for taking their seats.

Sinn Féin may be sending two representatives to the shindig. But rejection of allegiance to the crown is the standard justification for the refusal of the party’s MPs – and seven of them were elected in 2019, on an openly republican basis –  to show up at Westminster.

The oath is also problematic for MPs on the left. The notion of undying fealty to a born-to-rule hereditary head of state has been outside the conventions of British radicalism since the era of Tom Paine.

It is flatly inimical to socialists, and even social democrats or liberals who take egalitarianism seriously, who are effectively asked to compromise foundational beliefs.

The late Labour MP Tony Banks used to joke that he had taken the pledge with his fingers crossed, which meant it didn’t count.

And Rosie Kane, a former MSP for the Scottish Socialist Party, famously scrawled “my oath is to the people” on her palm when going through the parallel charade at Holyrood in 2003.

But extorting a form of words from politicians who do not support the royal family constructs the theoretical basis of the power monarchs retain to sack elected governments in Britain.

That’s a trump card that can be played against democracy at any time, if any future government proves more than mildly inconvenient for the ruling class.

Meanwhile, public support for the monarchy has fallen to what is being described as an all-time low. I’m not sure how that conclusion has been reached, given that we don’t have the polling evidence from 1649. But one recent survey found only three people in ten regard the institution as important.

Backing for overt republicanism has long stood at or around the 20-25% mark, and is now rising markedly, particularly among younger people.

Yet Labour’s response has been to ramp up obsequious displays of pro-royalist sentiment, in the belief that the forelock-tugging demographic is key to winning back the red wall.

Hence Keir Starmer insistence that there was a “patriotic duty” to celebrate the 2022 platinum jubilee, and the decision to open last year’s Labour conference with the singing of God Save The King.

The Labour right’s argument here is that the monarchy is a symbol of national unity. That is wrong. If anything, it remains the symbol par excellence of entrenched and unbridgeable class divisions.

In normal countries, a newly-inaugurated head of state swears allegiance to the people. Not the other way round.

David Osland is a member of Hackney North & Stoke Newington CLP and a long-time left wing journalist and author. Follow him on Twitter at @David__Osland

Image: c/o Mike Phipps