For those too young to remember Diana’s death, the crowd control must have seemed a little dystopian, as if the police and centralized authorities were anticipating not an honor but a riot. To those not too young, it was immediately obvious what they were in for: a repeat of 1997, when the streams of people heading for Kensington Palace were completely uncontrollable and many of the individuals completely uncontrollable. People were downright intense on the street back then. I was working in an office overlooking the impromptu procession, and you could hear these sounds, completely unfamiliar, amazingly loud. This fostered, for many of us, not necessarily a heightened republicanism, but a lifelong skepticism around outbursts of grief. The mood on Wednesday, five days before the funeral, was completely different. Temperance, gentleness and self-denial were qualities of Elizabeth II that people often referred to and were reflected in everyone’s behavior. No one was there to make a scene. However, if you’re skeptical of royals to begin with, the adulation that comes with just showing up takes some getting your head around it. Tim Bott, 57, a retired police officer, said simply: “This was my chance to come and pay my respects to a woman who used to be my boss.” He had met the Queen once, in 1994, when she had inspected his ceremonial guard in the Cayman Islands. “I felt like she was completely connected. It is completely personal to you at that moment. And when you think of the millions of people he did this for, the service, the duty.” He explained his medals: one for senior service, one for silver and gold jubilees. Then a lifesaving order from the Knights of St. John, about the time he had rescued a woman suffering from a mental breakdown from a rooftop. It seems especially important for those who have served themselves to see the meaning of service represented both in person and in institution. Gareth Hodder, 50, was formerly a Coldstream guard. he had flown in from South Africa, to stand in the same spot where he had held birthday parades in the past, “standing here, for a long time, getting very hot”. The figure embodied “a sense of service, of selflessness, of devotion, of serving your friends. You feel a sense of connection and a sense of pride when you see the royal family. It sounds pompous, but it’s not meant to be,” he said. Thousands of people lined the streets of London to pay their respects at Westminster Hall. Photo: Anadolu Agency/Getty Images Twenty meters up towards St James’s Park, Leigh Lewis, 72, Morris Wiseman, 74 and Vivien Korn, 72, were reminiscing about the coronation, which only Leigh would admit he could not remember. The other two swore they did. He loved the monarchy in general because it’s above politics – “anything against authoritarianism works for me” – and the three returned persistently to the present-day voice of their Jewish immigrant parents, the Nazis of Wiseman and UK-born Korn, after his grandparents. he had previously fled anti-Semitic violence in Eastern Europe. “My father was very proud of the fact that he was able to vote and attend the coronation,” Wiseman said. Lewis agreed: “They were very proud to be here, allowed to vote, allowed to serve, allowed to participate, allowed to enter.” There was an element of more abstract respect, expressed by Sammy, 45, who had arrived with his 14-year-old nephew Amali. “I’m not a royal, but I have a passion for English history, constitutional history. The royal family is a living connection to this. some people more than others.” Asked if he believed King Charles would manifest that connection as seamlessly as his mother, he said carefully: “A lot of the factors that go into that are out of his control. But he did quite an apprenticeship.” Thousands queue in London to see Queen’s stateside – video The O’Shaughnessys were there with their 10-year-old daughter, Amaya, and 12-year-old son, Milen, who they have since withdrawn from school, Jim, 44, explained: “They won’t appreciate it now, but when they get to our age, they will realize that they may not see anything like this again.” Nitiksha, 44, drew from the Queen “a great sense of comfort, something you have to believe in”. “I don’t think many countries could do what we do,” Jim added, “have a democracy that coexists with a monarchy.” “So you’re into shade?” I asked and he replied, “It’s also classy. It’s very, very classy.” Milen had canceled his football at the weekend but decided, on balance, that this was appropriate. Amaya said, “My friends think it will be weird to be called King instead of Queen.” And it’s only 10. how do they think it is for the rest of us? People always talk about the international brand the royals do for Britain, and this was borne out by the tourists in the crowd. Anna Pawerova, 16, from the Czech Republic, said: “It’s really emotional. we learned a lot about her at school, her early life, her war experience. We also learned about colonialism, but not in a bad way. Germany, we learned it the hard way.” The recent claims, coming from the very center – Meghan and Harry – that the immediate establishment is racist, no one has time for them. Clara, 36, is quite adamant on this point: “It was one particular person, he didn’t blame the whole family.” Her boyfriend Dale, 47, has a friend from Ghana who has worked closely with King Charles on knife crime in the past and says he “seems to have his finger on the pulse, with diversity”. In this crowd, Prince Andrew hears many names, “the odd bad apple”, “you will always have some people in life who act differently than others”. It’s doubtful that a full-blooded republican would come away from this event loving the royals, but as a half-blooded republican, I can’t help but admire the sincerity of the royals, their patient determination to see the best in people.
