From afar an enduring symbol of faith, hope and duty
The conundrum of Australian life is that a nation of independent spirit, with a robust national history spanning more than a century, stayed faithful to Queen Elizabeth II during her remarkable 70 years as monarch.
The Queen enjoyed an exceptional and dual relationship with Australia: as a constitutional monarch where she was Australia’s head of state and as an emotional and enduring symbol of popular monarchism. Her impeccable discharge of both roles transcended the tides of social change and cultural chaos that ran in parallel with her time as monarch.
Australians disagreed about the monarchy, yet they largely agreed about the Queen. She was monarch for 16 Australian prime ministers from Sir Robert Menzies to Anthony Albanese. At every juncture she upheld constitutional propriety including during the 1975 crisis contrary to false claims about her alleged improper actions.
Constitutional monarchy has never been served by a better incumbent. She became part of our lives, distant yet ever-present, her image implanted on our memory, an anchor of comfort and stability.
During her 70 years as our monarch Australia was transformed from a small, inward-looking monoculture in 1952 to a brash, multicultural, noisy diversity in 2022 – yet the Queen endured. Sadly for republicans, they could never combat her standing and enthusiasm for their cause only waned further in recent years as the Queen’s qualities – dignity, dedication and fortitude – became more pronounced.
These were the monarchical bonds that tied the Queen to Australian public support. That support shifted over time – from enthusiasm to respect, yet it endured. In another unusual twist her status grew with her longevity. Indeed, her 70-year navigation saw the transition in this country from Australia-British race patriotism to an independent Australian cosmopolitanism. Our self-identity evolved but the Queen also displayed her adaptability, partly the job of heading a multiracial Commonwealth.
The Queen visited Australia 16 times, beginning with the 1954 Royal Tour lasting 57 days with 250 formal events – almost certainly the most sustained public event in Australian history where an estimated two-thirds of our nine million population went out to see her – and ending with her April 2011 “farewell tour” when the mood was different but many thousands still turned out.
The ruling prime minister, Robert Menzies, unsurprisingly, called the 1954 tour a “family reunion” saying: “It is one of the most powerful elements converting them (the people) from a mass of individuals to a great cohesive nation.” When the Queen began her long journey home from Perth’s Swan River at the tour’s end, The Age reported “40,000 cheering West Australians sang Auld Lang Syne and waved farewell” with many women crying.
In her thesis on the 1954 tour, Australian historian Jane Connors said that “many of the people I have heard from or spoken to in the course of research tell me that they remember this event with more clarity and emotion than any other public occasion during their lifetime”. The Communist Party was too intimidated to protest against the Queen. In the regions people lined railways and travelled hundreds of miles to glimpse the beautiful, young Queen, a symbol of a new post-war era seeded in victory, a tide of hope and faith in the triumph of traditional virtue.
The genius of the Queen has been to span generational change, cultural upheaval and many crises among her own family. Her constancy and endurance have no match. In the process she became something more – a symbol of what many people felt their lives and society had lost: duty, integrity and fidelity to mission. She had a moral standing.
After Gough Whitlam in 1973 changed the Queen’s official title to “Queen of Australia” he hosted her to lunch at The Lodge with luminaries including senior ALP unionist Jack Egerton. “They tell me, luv, you’ve been naturalised,” Jack greeted her. Gough noted: “The Queen was amused.”
In September 1993 Paul Keating met the Queen at Balmoral to tell her the monarchy’s service to Australia had outlived its relevance and that the nation would advance to a republic. The Queen’s reply was impeccable. “I will, of course, take the advice of Australian ministers and respect the wishes of the Australian people.”
She won Keating’s respect, perhaps his heart, at that moment. They agreed on the protocols to be followed. Keating told the Queen he wanted to elevate her and her family above the coming political battle. The Queen offered him a whisky. He hoped she wasn’t too hurt. The Queen, dressed down to her tweeds, then drove him in a Land Rover to a barbecue in a remote hut Victoria had built for Albert. The public voted six years later.
The Queen knew how to behave in her dual roles – as constitutional monarch and overarching national symbol. In his tribute John Howard said: “She was monarch by the free will and consent of her people” – not by any divine right. Howard paid tribute to her sense of duty, her religious faith and her belief in constitutional propriety.
No one suggested Australia become a republic because the Queen had failed in her responsibilities. But she became an insuperable obstacle to republican prospects such that many prominent republicans asserted that the republic must be deferred until she died. Well, the Queen has died but Australia’s now flawed republican movement will still struggle.
During her visits the Queen saw more of Australia than most Australians. For her, Australia was a distant but cherished realm. Indeed, she chose to send her son, now King Charles III, to school here. Becoming our Queen was not her choice – that prize was bequeathed by birth and constitutional evolution. But the power to terminate Australia’s constitutional monarchy rests, ultimately, with the Australian people as the 1999 referendum demonstrated.
She is our Queen by our ongoing choice. Looked at with cold objectivity, it has been a compelling, almost baffling phenomenon – Australia’s national history now stretches to more than 120 years yet its monarch and head of state has lived in London on the other side of the Earth. For most of today’s Australians Elizabeth II is the only monarch and only head of state they have known. Some feel affection for her; others feel she reflects the natural order; still others await the opportunity presented by a new King Charles.
In his tribute Anthony Albanese said: “She is the longest-reigning monarch in British history and, remarkably, the second-longest reigning monarch of a sovereign state in world history. Her life of faithful service will be remembered for centuries to come.”
Her reign will be branded by historians as an Elizabethan age and Australia is part of that story. The Elizabethan age has ended – but the constitutional monarchy continues. Her reign over 70 years reveals much about the Queen. Is there any other world figure from the past century with such a grasp of the duty, behaviour and constancy? Surely not.
The Queen did not belong to the daily life of the Australian community. She did not live among us – and this was an advantage in helping her lofty impartiality from our turbulent public life. The people respected the Queen but correctly assumed she had no power over them. This was pivotal. Her authority has been buttressed by an efficient, highly political Buckingham Palace operation. Symbolism and secrecy are its hallmarks.
The monarchy is a triumph of optics. In many ways it constitutes, despite its blunders, one of the most successful public relations efforts in modern history.
The success of Elizabeth II has been extraordinary. Sustaining the monarchy in a world demanding social justice, democratic accountability and a war on white, inherited privilege has been a daunting task.
In his book The English Constitution, the 19th century writer Walter Bagehot said that “we must not let daylight in upon the magic” – meaning the success of monarchy lay in its mystique. Some mystique remains but now reinforced by monarchical marketing.
The Queen knew her purpose was to foster unity. This was rarely difficult in her dealings with Australia and its leaders, Liberal or Labor, monarchists or republicans. Howard, in his concluding remarks at the 1998 constitutional convention, said what struck him most was the unity – “the integrity of the Australianism” – among the different views expressed.
The passing of the Queen should offer a new chance for Australian republicanism after its recent monumental folly in personalising the issue, accusing the Queen of improper behaviour during the 1975 crisis and making the Queen’s integrity an element in this struggle. Republicans will keep failing unless they show a better understanding of their own country.
Ongoing support for the Queen and the reception she met in 1954 was driven by a long, pent-up historical momentum.
At the start of World War I, governor-general Sir Ronald Munro-Ferguson, a veteran of the House of Commons, said: “You can hardly believe what solidarity of national life there is between Britain and Australia.”
That statement was made more than 100 years ago. The Queen has died. That solidarity is not yet dead.
It enters a new unpredictable era under a new king.