The Hyperbolic and Satirical Insult of the Coronation

A homeless person uses the Coronation Day papers as a buffer between them and the cold hard floor of a train station. A woman stands next to a screen showing the ceremony selling The Big Issue in the rain. The cost-of-living crisis dominates reporting and public conscience. Whatever your opinion on the monarchy, on the King, or indeed on the coronation, you cannot deny it paints a jewel-encrusted façade of gold and Union Jacks over a very much divided and struggling nation.

Around the pageantry and splendour of the coronation echoes the proudly repeated phrase "non-one does it like us,": our parades, national support, and patriotism. "In North Korea?” is satirically quipped, quote tweeted, or replied as a response – a country known for its unfair treatment of its inhabitants, the cruelty of life there, and the absurd public displays of love for the leader; a deprived country where there is often not enough to eat, but one that “cheers and praises their leader at big public events”. Both here, and there, there is a considerable discrepancy between the basic living conditions, lives, and capabilities of those in power and that of the general public, but the displays of national talent, military prowess, and admiration for leaders spare no expense.

Royalist or abolitionist, the facts of the coronation are this: a divided nation, an unelected leader, a ceremony paid for by the taxpayer, arrests of peaceful protestors, and pompous displays of the military and the wealth of the elected leader. As a country of individuals, we are not well-off, we are not united, and we are less patriotic than we have ever been – why must it look like it?

British people often find themselves patriotic about their patriotism. “No one does it like us” - an ability to ‘pull together’, to unite in celebration, to turn out in masses for a cause - but this is a selective unity, a selective mass turnout. 

The Met Police have faced questions on their ‘heavy handed’ approach to the arrests of anti-monarchy groups, and even members f Westminster’s Night Watch team, despite there being no “discussion, thought, email, message, anything that suggested any intent to do anything disruptive” explained Graham Smith, the chief executive of Republic on BBC Radio 4 Today. Arrests of peaceful protestors, of people simply exercising a right to display their opinion, combined with the copious money spent on the ceremony have created a crossed line for those otherwise indifferent to the ceremony. “My opinion on the monarchy is not strong,” says a student from Leeds, “I watched it because it is part of history, but arresting people who are protesting a leader they didn’t get to vote on or appoint, and who costs them millions, is dystopian”.

Hyperbolic and satirical comparisons between Britain's attitude to the monarchy being compared to North Korea also cropped up in April, when it was announced that free portraits of the King were to be sent to organisations run by the state at the cost of £8 million to the taxpayer. Oliver Dowden, the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, said the pictures would serve as a "visible reminder (and)… a fitting tribute to our new sovereign… I am sure they will take pride of place in public buildings across the land." In these very buildings, however, teachers have been striking over pay and funding disputes following cut after cut and crumbling facilities. Satirical comparisons were not constructive concerning the seriousness of the issues, but they drew attention to the ridiculousness of this funding allocation. In 2018, the BBC reported on North Korea that “Symbolism and imagery are all-important…portraits of Kim Jong-un's father and grandfather portraits hang in every building in the country” after the release of a new portrait of the leader. The irony of these satirical similarities would be humorous if it wasn't so bleak.

Comparisons to the communist dictatorship are surface-level and hyperbolic, but they do encourage a level of introspection into where our nation focuses its efforts. The harsh juxtaposition of an outlandish ceremony at a time of national deprivation is undeniable. Manic flag waving of a country that cares little for those struggling, refugees, and families that cannot afford to eat, is dystopian, and something many Brits would critique other nations for.

The ceremony aims to display the monarch as a unifying figure, and Britain as a unified and patriotic country, but this is simply untrue from looking at places of public discussion such as Twitter. Who are we trying to fool?