The Cheshire Cat called Commonwealth

Posted by Jim on April 28, 2018

 

by Jude Collins (judecollins.com)

 

The British Empire is a bit like the Cheshire cat in Lewis Carroll’s
Alice in Wonderland: over the years it has faded until all you’re left
with is a bland smile.

First we had the British Empire red in tooth and claw, sailing across
the globe in search of countries to plunder, taking in of course Ireland
but also India, the Caribbean, Egypt, South Africa Malaya, Iran and
Kenya. Among others. Where the native population tried to resist this
takeover, they were met with barbarous cruelty and suppression.

Then we had the British Empire and Commonwealth, which suggested an
Empire, yes, but an Empire where there was cooperation and pooling of
resources rather than seizure by the strong. Then we had the British
Commonwealth, which diplomatically dropped the E-word. And finally a
couple of weeks back we had the Commonwealth meeting in London under the
aegis of QE2, who told the assembled leaders of countries from all
around the world that she was giving up being the head of this outfit
and it was her “sincere wish” that her son Charles replace her.

The Commonwealth Charter of 2012 declares that each member Commonwealth
nation is equal, regardless of size or wealth. But since QE2 is the Head
of the Commonwealth, her “wish” has been respected and Charles has
become head honcho of the international club.

Now that the UK is staggering out of the EU, some people have begun to
talk about great future prospects of Commonwealth trade. Those of us
with longer memories will recall that in 1973 Britain made a conscious
decision to turn its back on the Commonwealth and join what was then the
European Economic Community (EEC). If the once-jilted Commonwealth is a
gleaming trade possibility, how come arch-Brexiteers like Boris Johnson
and Nigel Farage haven’t been bleating about it rather than emerging
giants like Brazil and China as trading partners?

You’ll get people – usually unionist – who’ll tell you that it would be
in the south of Ireland’s interests if it were to re-join the
Commonwealth. The snag with that is that the average southern citizen
would rather chop off his/her nose and stir-fry it than re-join the
Commonwealth club. Not all of them, of course. If you searched really
hard you’d probably find as many as fourteen Commonwealth fans in the
twenty-six counties who would like nothing better than toasting the
health of Her Maj and to periodically getting stuck into some haute
cuisine. But the overwhelming majority of southerners would prefer to
urge us nordies to accept our present state and not be forever
nyammering about it, while they steer well clear of any Commonwealth.

Many of the Commonwealth leaders couldn’t tell you what the Commonwealth
is for, but I think I can.

The Commonwealth exists as a visible sign of good relations between
Britain and those countries it was wont to loot and pillage. You see
them smiling and chatting on your TV screen and you say “Such
cordiality! Verily, the British Empire can’t have been that bad – look
at how friendly everybody is now.” So an unspoken version of imperial
history is offered – happy natives loving their Queen, all friends now
and sure weren’t we all friends all along, apart from some unfortunate
misunderstandings in the dim past. The Commonwealth= the Empire without
blood and tears.

The Commonwealth also gives QE2 and her successor somewhere to go on
state visits, where the local people perform traditional dances and the
queen smiles and wears white gloves.

And I suppose you could argue the case that the Commonwealth provides
living proof that Stockholm syndrome can apply at an international as
well as a local level. Britain performed some pretty disgusting acts
against its colonies over the decades, yet here we have the heads of the
states where that disgusting stuff was practiced, getting up to toast
Her Majesty and getting a bit misty-eyed as they all sing “God Save The
Queen”.

Alternatively, you could see these periodic junkets as a toothless
many-headed bulldog, gnawing its way through course after course of rich
food, with the promise that under Charles’s leadership, a hundred
similar junkets will be held in coming days.