King Charles' Coronation: Will you be celebrating?

As we traipsed through the Throne Room, the King’s Bedroom and the magnificent Great Gallery, hung with portraits of the Stewart dynasty since the mists of time, what interested them most was the thought that until recently Queen Elizabeth and her corgis had often been in residence, along with the present King.

To judge by the crowds on a wet Friday afternoon, the allure of the British monarchy is greater than ever for those who live beyond our borders. Holyrood has been a tourist attraction since the mid-18th century, but the numbers who flock there today would probably horrify its former occupants.

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It seems that no matter how much scandal the House of Windsor creates and withstands – perhaps indeed because of the scandals and ructions, which keep them perpetually in the headlines – fascination with this family never wanes.

As recent figures suggest, however, this does not hold true for Scotland. In anticipation of the King’s coronation on May 6, councils across the UK invited applications for street closures and for temporary entertainment and alcohol licences so the big day could be treated with the public fanfare it deserves.

No doubt they anticipated a flood of requests for street parties, where bunting and trestle tables laden with coronation chicken and cucumber sarnies would turn every thoroughfare into a replica of 1953. In that year, Elizabeth was crowned and the country partied as never before.

So far, north of the border responses have been sluggish at best. In the words of one council, people have demonstrated “tepid indifference”.

Where I live, in the Borders, there have been more applications than almost anywhere, with the possible exception of Edinburgh, which has (narrowly) reached double figures.

The Queen's Coronation (Image: PA Wire)

The capital is also planning a Coronation Ball. Other councils, meanwhile, such as in the north west Highlands, have had barely any requests, and three, including Glasgow and Fife, none.

When all “official” celebrations are combined, there will be 215 jamborees nation-wide. Although that doesn’t sound too bad to me, when compared to the take-up in England it is meagre.

So does this suggest we are a country of republicans, desperate to wave cheerio to an archaic institution at odds with the ideals of democracy? I doubt it.

Despite an increasingly vocal number who declare they would banish the monarchy, it is hardly a pressing issue even for republican die-hards. Given the gravity of other political, social and economic problems that need sorting, having a referendum on abolishing the royals lies firmly at the bottom of the list.

Nor do I believe there is blanket indifference here to the big day. Perhaps that’s because I live in an area of loyal royalists, many of whom are gearing up for a marathon session in front of the television, eager to cheer Charles on from afar and to soak up a historic spectacle.

You can be fairly sure there will be a glass or two of bubbly and several sausage rolls to add to the jollity of the occasion.

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In other parts, such as Glasgow, people might (like me) have absolutely no interest in partying, yet I would be very surprised if this indicates zero interest. Though there might be no popping of corks, many will recognise this as a rare occasion of national significance, and at the very least tune in for the highlights of the ceremony.

The coronation of Elizabeth represented a high-water mark of communal spirit, a remarkable outpouring of collective joie de vivre.

Since then we have become less and less community-minded. Less upbeat and more cynical too, and not without reason. As the last few years have shown, the notion that the graph of history shows an ever-improving curve of well-being and prosperity is bunkum.

The historian Tom Devine, when asked to comment on the gulf between attitudes to the coronation in 1953 compared with today, commented that “the early 1950s seemed like the dawn of a new and more optimistic age and not just the start of a new reign”.

With the end of an appalling global conflict, and before that a devastating decade of depression which had been transformed into a booming economy, the country had a lot to celebrate. He added, “the reasons to rejoice on that scale in 2023 seem much less obvious”.

There is certainly no mood of thankfulness and cheer to which Charles’s coronation can be attached. I doubt we have been in a more miserable state for decades, thanks to inflation, the war in Ukraine and the hangover from Covid, not to mention a never-ending litany of domestic political travails.

Admittedly, on the evidence of the forthcoming coronation it would be tempting to argue that Scotland has little time for the royals.

Yet, after the outpouring of grief we witnessed at the late Queen’s death, from a guard of honour of tractors near Balmoral to endless queues to see her coffin in St Giles Cathedral, I don’t believe that is true. When there is an occasion to demonstrate respect, as at Elizabeth’s lying in state, countless thousands turn out.

While there is no direct political correlation, the country appears to be as divided over this as it is over the Union.

It might not be a close-run 50:50 split, but for every pocket of indifference there is another of devoted supporters.

In parts of Aberdeenshire, or in the environs of Dumfries House in East Ayrshire, where Charles has revitalised both house and estate, thereby boosting the local economy, it would be a brave person who spoke out against him or his mother.

I suspect that on May 6, as coaches are polished and horses’ mane’s plaited, Scots will tune in in droves and find themselves captivated by a glimpse of medieval ritual. Before then, if you want to get a taste of where all this began, head to Holyrood Palace.

But make sure you go early – to avoid the hordes.