The arguments [against monarchy] are simple and compelling, starting with the very notion of heredity. Even the most strident monarchist will usually dodge that idea rather than attempt to defend it. They can say little to rebut Tony Benn’s well-worn line that we wouldn’t trust the irline captain who announced over the public address system, ‘I’m not, in fact, a trained pilot - but don’t worry, my dad was.’
Now, anyone who thinks Tony Benn’s analogy is valid is not in possession of his reason. At least a fairer analogy would see a pilot training his son from an early age, instilling in him not just the skills but the qualities required for the task, which son, when he was ready to become a pilot in his own right, would have at hand many advisors and co-pilots—or in other words, the analogy would run: “I’m a trained pilot, I was trained by my father who was a trained pilot, as was his father, etc, and I am in touch with many people who know a thing or two about piloting aeroplanes – so don’t worry”. It is an analogy that speaks in favour of heredity, not against it. Whilst we’re playing this sort of game, however, it is quite easy to draw another analogy, one that speaks against democracy: “I’m not, in fact, a trained pilot - but I have been voted into the cockpit by a gaggle of ill-informed passengers at the back of the plane, near the lavatories - but don’t worry, I shall not betray the trust they have placed in me”.
This is, of course, entirely correct: it is also an argument that applies to those who rail against the hereditary Lords.
I do recommend that you read the whole thing, for Deogolwulf also discusses the nature of government itself. The essential point that he makes is that a tyranny need not consist of one person—and one of the greatest tyrannies of them all, the Nazis, was indeed a collective (although Hitler was the figurehead); the same, of course, could be argued about Stalin and the Communist Party—and anyone considering the actions of our current government would be hard pressed to refute this claim.
It always strikes me as bizarre—given the fascist proclivities of the assorted cunts and fuckers currently hacking away at our civil liberties—that people still argue that democracy is the best form of government per se. NuLabour have adequately proved that it is not; and though it may be argued that we might vote them out in 4 years time, how much damage will they have done by then? And have we any guarantee that the next lot will undo that damage?
The answer to the latter question is: no, we do not. In fact, the likely future incumbents, the Tories, seem just as likely to stitch us up as this lot have. Their collusion with NuLabour over the proposed state funding of parties has simply reinforced the idea that all of these politico bastards are in it together; putting their heads together to hone further the conspiracy against the British people.
It is not as though we can vote them out: if we do not vote, or spoil our ballot, then someone will still be elected: it is not as though elections have to be quorate; indeed, in the case of NuLabour, it seems that the fewer people elect them, the more they assume their mandate to have been strengthened. Rarely in British history—indeed, if ever—has the old saying "it doesn't matter who you vote for, the politicians always get in" seemed more apposite.
And yet still the fools of the Left bang on about electing the Lords, or moan that power confered by an accident of birth is inappropriate. Inevitably, the panacea to all of their ills is the extension of elections; and even whilst they rightly rail against the tyranny of elected NuLabour, still they add their shrill shrieking to the clamour for more elections, more representation; and yet those of us who have little issue with hereditary priviledge, and the commensurate sense of responsibility generally fostered, wonder why they cannot see that the sole bulwark that exists between the common man and the concentration camp are those unelected peers, their old-fashioned sense of duty and their oh-so-outmoded inherited sense of what is right and fair.
It is only appropriate that I should finish up with Deogolwulf's parting comment, for Anthony Wedgewood Benn was, of course, one of those few people who decided to forgo his title in order to enter the cesspit of common politics; indeed, not only this, but he it was who campaigned for that option to be made possible. Not for Tony the ignominy of merely scrutinising law and holding governments to account: no, Tony wanted to make policy. So let us leave this colossus of the two worlds with a parting shot.
Oh, and by the way—and as it were—I wouldn’t trust Tony Benn with a go-cart, let alone an aeroplane.
A sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree, for Tony Benn has been wrong on almost every issue on which he has expressed an opinion; and concerning those issues on which he was on the right side—on the EEC, for instance—it was for entirely the wrong reasons. If priviledge did not count for something in this land, then Anthony Wedgewood Benn would have swung from a gibbet many a long year hence....