William the conqueror

ACCORDING to Buckingham Palace, the visit by Prince William to Australia this week was a private one, but what exactly does that mean?

William came on his own time (the prince is training to be a helicopter rescue pilot, and he's on vacation now) and the Queen picked up the tab, so Australia did not have to pay.

The prince had no formal duties, such as opening the new Supreme Court building in New Zealand, and made just one official (and amusing) speech, at Government House in Melbourne on Thursday.

The idea that the palace wasn't watching to see how the prince was received, as it were, well, that's just silly.

Prince William is second in line to the throne. He will one day be the king of England, and 15 other realms, Australia among them. Actuaries point out that his crowning may yet be some time away: his grandmother, Queen Elizabeth, is 83, in good health, and still on the throne. Her mother, the Queen Mother, lived to be 101. Charles hasn't had his go yet, so yes, William may not be crowned for another 40 or 50 years.

In that case, some would argue questions about the kingliness of the young prince are a touch premature, but that's not so. If the royal family is to hold Australia and other realms that occasionally flirt with the idea of dumping the constitutional monarchy while remaining generally reluctant to change, then it needs to show what it's got up its sleeve, not only now, but in the years to come.

William is their ace in the hole. He is still relatively unknown, except to those who know him intimately, and yet it seems at first glance that he does possess the attributes he'll need to reassure Australians who are, on the whole, and at best, ambivalent about becoming a republic.

So, how did he do? The answer is very well, for several reasons.

First, William benefited hugely from the relaxed nature of his trip. Unlike the Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation meeting of global leaders, which was an affront to the citizens of Sydney and to this nation's sense of itself as a relaxed, open and peaceful place, the vibe - if you can stand that word - of William's visit was relaxed, calm and uncluttered.

There were a few police about but they had labradors, not alsatians. There were no wire cages. Indeed, in Redfern, the barrier was no more than the stretchy tape on poles they use at airports, and it gave way under the small number of people pressing against it, meaning people could get a cuddle from the prince and perhaps even a kiss.

Second, William reminds people very much of his mother, and Diana was beloved. Over and again, people who came into contact with the young prince told him how much they admired Diana; how they'd met her last time she was here; and how proud she would have been of him.

Perhaps it's no longer the case in England that the public speaks to William about Diana but it happened every day in Sydney, Auckland, Wellington and Melbourne; and he was at times overcome.

One example: the prince met Kerryn Best, 41, at a barrier, and she told the prince that she had the "privilege" of meeting his mother as a child in Christchurch in 1983. William was curious. "What was she doing?" he asked.

"She was looking beautiful," Best said, to which William replied: "She did that elegantly."

He then turned, to take another hand from the crowd, before turning back to Best, to say: "You are a very special lady. I will shake your hand again."

Then, too, there were people who remember the day when Diana was buried, and her brother, Earl Spencer, spoke passionately to William, and to his younger brother Harry, on her behalf, at her funeral, saying: "I pledge that we, your blood family, will do all we can to continue the imaginative and loving way in which you were steering these two exceptional young men, so that their souls are not simply immersed by duty and tradition but can sing openly as you planned."

From his behaviour in New Zealand and Australia, it seems that William has Diana's playfulness in his bones.

He spent time with indigenous children. He showed his respect for military life, by visiting Holsworthy Barracks, in Sydney, and he toured those parts of Victoria ravaged by bushfires last year. He spoke of shared heritage, and core values. But he also flirted with young women and had beers with young men. He said his father, Charles, dearly remembered a moment on Bondi Beach, where a local beauty "landed one [a kiss] on him. I'm glad to see that tradition continues."

In short, there was barely a person who came into his orbit - from the waitress at Sydney nightspot Bungalow8 who mixed his mojito to the American-born republican Premier of NSW Kristina Keneally - who wasn't charmed by the young prince.

But was it enough for The Firm to keep its hold on Australia?

The Rudd government and state Labor governments support a republic, although not necessarily while the Queen is on the throne. In a statement released on the eve of the prince's visit, a spokeswoman for Kevin Rudd said: "The Rudd government is committed in terms of its pre-election platform and the platform of the party in moving Australia towards a republic [and] that continues to be the party's position."

Liberal leader Tony Abbott says the issue is so far down the list of priorities for Australians that it is hardly worth debating, but William's visit revived the debate, nonetheless.

Monarchists, many of whom have become used to being derided for their support for the Queen, again point out that there are good reasons to argue for the status quo: Australia is but one of many free, stable democracies that are also limited monarchies. Others include Canada, Denmark, New Zealand, Norway and Japan. These are peaceful, prosperous, democratic lands. The monarchy acts as a circuit-breaker, forcing people back to the polls in case of a stalemate. It happens rarely.

Then, too, there's the argument that after monarchy comes not democracy but dictatorship: Russia is a fine example; France too.

On the other hand, William isn't an Australian king - king of Australia, yes, possibly, one day, but never an Australian king - and the idea that one man, by virtue of birth into a certain family at the right time, should automatically become a king of anything. Chairman of the Australian Republican Movement, Mike Keating, says the royal family will certainly be pleased with the enthusiasm with which William was received, but, he says, "the fact is, Charles is next in line, after Elizabeth, and putting William up, without the baggage that Charles has, doesn't change that".

"When Elizabeth dies, Charles will be king, and we in Australia will have nothing to say about it, which is ridiculous." Then, too, "the whole institution, where the eldest male child takes his turn and becomes king and therefore our head of state, it goes against what Australians believe in."

Prominent monarchist David Flint says republicans were given a free shot at goal in 1999, and missed. "They came up with their best model [during the 1999 referendum] and that was roundly rejected and since then, they have gone backwards," Flint says.

"They haven't the foggiest idea what sort of republic they want, so wouldn't it be better if they went away for a while and came back when they have something better?"

What is clear is that Australia can become a republic any time it wants. The royal family won't fight a move in that direction and yet, in its own quiet, clever way, it has this week laid its cards on the table. In sending William to Australia, the House of Windsor has shown Australians, up close, the face of the young prince who will one day be our king. "If I may," he said, in his only formal speech. "I'll be back."