The Royal Wedding: William and Kate

Unless you were pronounced legally dead sometime last October, you’ve definitely heard about the royal wedding.  And if you haven’t been lost in the jungles of Borneo since Tuesday, you saw — or will see — at less part of the ceremony.  But if you’re like most people you probably don’t realize what just took place.  Yes, Kate Middleton joined the next generation of British Royalty when she married the man who will be king — Billy Mountbatten-Windsor, but there’s more to it than that.  The Mountbatten-Windsors have been running the show (in one form or another) in England for close to 1,000 years.  Only Queen Margrethe II of Denmark has a longer pedigree in Europe.  Over the last millennium, the House of Windsor (as it is styled now) has gone from being absolute off-with-his-head monarchs to reign-but-not-rule royalty and has seen everything (literally) in between.  In the last 30 generations, there have been 49 kings and queens of England — give or take a couple of disputed ones and Oliver Cromwell (a religious head case.)  In that time, their realm, the United Kingdom, has given the world, among other things, literature, banking, capitalism, industry, a common language and representative democracy.  England’s political and cultural legacy is felt in every corner of the earth.  And it all started when Bill’s distant ancestor William the Conqueror (affectionately called William the Bastard) crossed the English Channel in 1066, with an army, to claim what was illegitimately his.

The history of the world is intimately tied to the history of England, and the history of England is intimately tied to the royal family.  No other family has done more to shape the course of human experience.  Some have risen to great power and prominence, shining brilliantly over their time and place, but they have all faded into relative obscurity.  The Julia family of Rome founded the Roman Empire and the Augustan Age.  Genghis Khan and his descendents ruled vast empires in Asia and Eastern Europe. The Medicis and the Borgias held sway over Italy during the great blossoming of the European Renaissance.  The Fuggers financed the Age of Discovery.  The Rothschilds and the Barings shaped the beginning of the modern world and the Industrial Revolution.  Yet none of them could hope to host an audience of perhaps a billion people in the 21st century.  Even the Chrysanthemum Throne of Japan, the oldest continuous dynasty in the world, doesn’t command that kind of attention.

The Windsors took centre stage on Friday, April 29th because — for a thousand years — they’ve been able to adapt to the world around them.  Many royal dynasties — the Bourbons, the Romanovs, the Qing (Manchus) — failed to renew themselves as history marched past them.  As the divine right of kings gave way to the will of the people, they stood in the path of progress, blindly clinging to their former glory.   They forgot their raison d’etre.

Here’s the history lesson.  From the beginning of time, royalty has been the centre of the nation.  Tribal chiefs offered protection, direction, organization and the law (albeit arbitrary) to a collection of people with common interests.  As tribes grew into states, the monarch give diverse peoples, physically separated, a shared purpose.  The wealth of the nation — money and ideas — was collected in one place and redistributed for the common good.  For example, roads were built and paid for by people who would never use them, with the understanding that the benefits would eventually be shared by all.  The king embodied this altruistic ideal.  Despite what modern history books will tell you, royal power has always been derived from the strength of the people, and strong monarchs returned that power in the form of a national ego.  This symbiotic relationship helped to concentrate the power of the people and funnel it into great achievements in learning, art and science.  It eased the creation of wealth, responded to disaster and established law.  But most importantly, the monarch offered the key to prosperity: stability.  Dynasties fail when monarchs no longer fulfill this obligation or abuse the trust given to them, and the people naturally reclaim their power.  The genius of the Windsors is that, over time, by fair means or foul, they’ve recognized the winds of change and adapted to accommodate the wishes of the people they serve.

In the 21st century, it’s easy to dismiss royalty as a very expensive anachronism; a gaudy bauble left over from a former time.  It’s also just as easy to resurrect the magic kingdoms we all knew as children and turn Kate into a fairy princess, complete with her Prince Charming.  That’s been done before, with disastrous results — more than once.

The truth, however, is very different.  Most people can’t name five British Prime Ministers since 1952, but there are very few people in this world who do not recognize The Queen.  That’s not by accident; it’s the prestige she has maintained as the personification of Britain.  This is the legacy that William and Kate will inherit — not the territorial kingdom handed down from William the Conqueror.  That belongs to the people.  William and Kate are now the next generation of royalty.  Their celebrity is ceaseless and relentless.  They are expected to be the living symbol of the very best of Britain, the Commonwealth and the English-speaking world.  They must be all things to all people; they must give up their personal lives for the greater good.  In short, they are no longer just people: they have become an institution of the nation, and perhaps even of the world.

The Queen

Where Do Lawyers Come From?

Ever since our hairiest ancestors came down out of the trees and grouped themselves together against the dangers of an unforgiving world, we have made laws to govern ourselves.  In the beginning, they were simple tribal dictates that set out reasonable behaviour within the group.  Things like no stealing another guy’s vegetables, no peeing upstream from the village, everybody gets a slice of the mastodon, and no loud music after 11:00.  In those days, there was only one punishment for breaking the rules.  You were banished from the protection of the tribe and your life expectancy went from short and brutal to zero.  Early humans understood that society was fragile, and if some wise ass wanted to be a jerk, he endangered the entire group.  It was simple, rough and ready, but it worked.  Humans, as a species, not only survived but thrived as a communal beast.

As our society progressed and got more complicated, so did our laws.  We still had to protect ourselves against the unreasonable acts of certain individuals, but we measured the punishment in accordance with the severity of the crime.  We remember this period today in the often quoted homily “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”  These were still simple laws, but they worked well because everybody in the group understood the rules, and they were enforced by the entire community.  For example, if Benjamin got caught eating Abraham’s carrots, he was expected to replace them – with a little extra for Abraham’s trouble – and all was forgiven.  Once again, these rules allowed us to progress as a society because we didn’t have to spend all our time guarding our property against theft and vandalism, and we could sleep soundly at night, knowing that there was still no loud music allowed after 11:00.

As our society progressed even further, more and more people came under the protection of the law.  Our rural villages developed into urban towns and started to interact with other large groups who had also adapted laws to protect their societies.  This caused a serious problem, though, because our social groups were getting so large that not everybody knew all the rules nor understood them.  Plus, although the rules between different groups were very similar, sometimes individual laws were surprisingly different.  For instance, if the people in Town A understood that donkeys must be tethered when those same people went to Town B, where donkeys were allowed to roam free, their first thought would have been, “Wow! Free donkeys!” and they would have helped themselves.  You can see how there’d be some misunderstandings; wars have been fought over lesser things.

Luckily, it was about that time that a guy named Hammurabi came along.  Hammurabi was a Babylonian king who took all the rules he could think of and wrote them down.  Actually, he had them chiselled into stone, but the result was the same.  It was called the Hammurabi Code; a big, heavy copy of it is sitting in the Louvre in Paris, if you want to take a look.  Hammurabi also set down all the punishments that fit the crimes so everybody in his kingdom knew exactly where they stood – vis a vis the law.  At first glance, this looks like: “Great!  Problem solved, and all is well with the world.  Society can now progress even further, and we’re well on our way to putting a man on the moon in less than four millennia!”

Unfortunately, this is where history spins us around and gives us a pointed kick in the groin.  Hammurabi either didn’t think or didn’t care that most Babylonians at the time were illiterate.  They had no idea what the hell all the squiggles on the stone were.  Ordinary people had to ask someone who could read to interpret the law for them.  These bloodsuckers charges outrageous prices and grew fat off the misfortunes of others.  They were called “law readers” or “lawyers” – say it slowly – and they’ve been skulking around our society ever since.

I will say no more about this because I’m scared of getting sued, but here are some laws, from around the world, that you may not have heard about but that are still enforced today.

In Massachusetts, it’s against the law to put tomatoes in chowder.
In Great Britain, it’s against the law to own and operate a television set without a license.
In Alaska, it’s illegal to wake up sleeping bears in order to take their picture.
Under the Code of Federal Regulations, Title 14, Section 1211, enacted July 16, 1969, (note the date) it is against the law for US citizens to have any contact with extraterrestrial aliens – or their vehicles.
In India, it’s illegal to fly over the Taj Mahal.
It’s against the law for the citizens of Monaco to gamble in their own casinos.
It’s illegal to chew gum in Singapore.
There is a national law in Switzerland that requires every Swiss citizen to either own – or have access to – a bomb shelter.
The song “Happy Birthday to You” is still under copyright.  Therefore, it is technically illegal to sing the song publically – without paying for the privilege.
In Iceland, it’s against the law to own a pet.
In Alaska, Hawaii and Maine, billboards are illegal.
And finally, my personal favourite: in Great Britain, attempted suicide is a capital crime whose maximum penalty is death.

Rick, Yoga and Free Speech

I had a friend who once told me there are no such things as bad days.   He wasn’t one of these terminally chirper individuals you want to shake ‘til their eyes pop.  He was a regular guy, and he practiced what he preached.  Rick (not his real name) saw the world as a wonderfully written comedy, loaded with pathos and suspense, and he saw life as a poker game where you have to play the cards you’re dealt.  His point was that instead of lamenting the fact that you have no shoes, you should find the guy who has no feet.  Then, by purchase or guile, you should get your mitts on his shoes because he’s obviously not going to be needing them.   Rick would have loved the 21st century.

Every time I run into a day like today, when it looks, for all the world, like the world is doomed, I think of Rick and wonder what he’d make of it all.  Not the big things like another earthquake in Japan or the United States 24 hours away from bankruptcy — but the little things — the quirks and pops that define us, as a society.

For example, the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association is all upset that a woman was tossed from public transit for wearing a button that the Transit Authority thought was offensive.  You can read about it here.  What happened was the transit cops were checking for unpaid fares (Vancouver and environs has an honour system for the part of public transit called Skytrain) when they found a female dishonouring the system.  According to various news sources, they wrote her a ticket for $175.00.  She, then did the honourable thing, bought a ticket and wanted to ride.  However, the cops asked her to either remove an offensive button she was wearing or remove herself from public transit.  She refused to do either one and so was forcibly removed — button and all.

Our girl decided not to just go quietly into that good night, shake herself off and ride for free another day.  Instead, she decided that this was no less than a police state challenge to the very core of our democracy – freedom of speech.  She embarked on a province wide “I’m a Victim” tour of various venues.   It seems most people blew her off — including the Police Complaint Commissioner.  However, the B.C. Civil Liberties Association had enough time, money and resources to not only hear her tale of woe but they also had enough time, money and resources left over to act upon it.  The BCCLA, as they’re affectionately called, has now asked the transit police to “clarify and revise their policy on free speech” without delay (Tracy Sherlock, The Vancouver Sun, 4.7.2011., A4.)  Such is the dire nature of this attack on Canadian values and liberty.  Of course, the BCCLA doesn’t blow their nose without alerting the media, so Vancouver’s answer to Joan of Arc found her way into the on-line pages of both The Vancouver Sun and The Globe and Mail.  The story includes a picture of the offending woman with the offending button.  However, possibly at the request of the photographer (although I have no evidence of that) our heroine’s fingers are strategically covering the offending word — one assumes, so as not to offend.

There you have it.  That’s what darkened my mood today.  At a time when half the world is starving, the other half is trying to butcher each other and the rest of us are trying to cope with the insanity of it all, the B.C. Civil Liberties Association is spending a wad of cash — protecting me from the transit police who were protecting me from nasty little girls who think the rules of common courtesy should not, or do not, apply to them.

So, what would Rick think about all this?  Let me just stop for a minute and explain something.  Although this ignorant waste of time and money upsets me, I do not have a public opinion about it.  I’m a coward.  The B.C. Civil Liberties Association scares the bejesus out of me, and when they’re around, I keep my opinions to myself.  The only thing that scares me worse is their mutant parent, the Human Rights Commission.  Make no mistake: when the Nazis come, I’m the guy hiding in the basement, reading novels – just so you know.  So, anyway, what would Rick think about all this?

Rick would find it absolutely hilarious that the B.C. Transit Police actually expect people to pay $175.00 fines when they didn’t spring for bus fare, in the first place.  He’d laugh himself stupid that this somehow passes for injustice.  And he’d be rolling on the floor, peeing his pants, to hear that the people’s champion of Canadian values didn’t have the integrity to contribute $2.50 worth of social responsibility to public transit!

I guess it’s not such a bad day after all, when I think about it.  Normally, I’d have to pay a cover charge for this kind of comedy.  Thanks, Rick!