A Brief History of the Private Life of Elizabeth II (2 page)

She will not, because of the constraints on her time, give you more than minutes or even seconds. What you have just had, in other words, is what everyone gets. She looks earnest and serious,
interested, perhaps amused, when performing this task and, for the brief time that she is in conversation, she treats you as the only person in the room. There is none of the self-important
person’s habit of looking past you, or behaving as if you are not important enough to notice. She is genuinely, if distantly, charming and it is difficult not to be enchanted. You remember
reading somewhere how her father told her that anyone who met her would remember the experience for the rest of their life, and you realise that you will.

As soon as she has gone there is an outburst of noise and excitement all around you. ‘Thank you all!’ bellows whoever was in charge, ‘that seemed to go well.’ ‘So
dignified!’ people gush. ‘Wasn’t she charming?’ Some are even skittish, light-headed: ‘What did she say to you?’ they ask each other. No one says, ‘Well,
that was an ordeal!’ because they were all caught up, willingly or otherwise, in the thrill of the moment. Even those who are indifferent to the monarchy can be overcome at meeting the most
famous woman of our time, and without exception they found the experience inspiring, intriguing or
at the very least deeply interesting. It is a milestone in their lives,
deserving of a whole page in the photograph-album of memory. There is, after all, something marvellous about being noticed, acknowledged, spoken to by the Head of State, knowing that with all she
has to do and all the important people she has met, she has given you her time and attention, if only for an instant. ‘Pinch me, someone!’ says a person nearby. Inanity, of course, but
that is what a brush with magic is like, and you feel it even if you’re a little surprised at yourself for doing so. When you, and the others, get home there will be questions to answer about
what she was wearing and what she said, and you will be glad to spread the magic, to sprinkle farther some of the stardust. From now on when anyone asks you: ‘Have you ever met the
Queen?’ you can say yes. If, however, they then enquired: ‘What is she like?’, how would you answer them? For you still don’t know.

Queen Elizabeth II is, by a considerable margin, the most important woman in the world. By virtue of position, longevity, personality, exposure and influence she has
outdistanced and outlasted any other who might have claims on public awareness. Some have undoubtedly held the world’s attention, shaped events, demonstrated compassion, led social trends or
– briefly – had more ‘news value’ in terms of the media: Eva Perón, Jacqueline Kennedy, Golda Meir, Indira Gandhi, Margaret Thatcher, Mother Teresa. None has had
anything like the position on the world stage occupied by the Queen. Her nearest competitor in the 20th century has been, ironically, her own mother, who died in 2002 at the age of 101. As regards
her place in world history Elizabeth II is, without question, going to rank with the great female rulers: Queen Victoria, Catherine the Great, Maria Theresa and the first Elizabeth. Although all of
these – even Victoria – wielded greater power than she does, her influence is probably just as great. She is, after all, Head of State in a quarter of the globe and ruler of more
independent territories than any sovereign in history.

Careers in public life usually last no more than a decade or two. Politicians are, to a surprising extent, quickly forgotten.
It seems extraordinary – and it is
– that when Elizabeth II came to the throne Winston Churchill was Prime Minister, Harry Truman was President of the USA and Russia was ruled by Stalin. She has known – and shared the
stage with – a host of other figures who many know only from history books and archive film: Charles de Gaulle, John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Harold Macmillan. For the past 60 years she
been privy to every national secret and has worked with every British government and with the leaders of Commonwealth states, as well as travelling to most of the countries in the world. Through
her own experience she is linked to many of the great personalities of the later 20th century, and her contact with them has been both formal and light-hearted: when she visited Washington during
Eisenhower’s presidency she could remind him that a decade earlier, when he was a general and she was a princess, she had taught him to dance an eightsome reel. Through her family she is
entwined with even more international events: her husband’s mother was honoured by Israel as ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ for sheltering Jews in Athens during the Holocaust,
though it also happens that one of her cousins, the Duke of Coburg, was a Nazi
Gauleiter
. Further back in history, the chain of coincidence is equally intriguing. Her Majesty is not only
descended from King George III but from his American antagonist, George Washington.

She is, by nature, quietly dutiful. The British have come to regard this as normal in sovereigns, for George V and VI have also been of this type. While this gives journalists less to write
about, it makes the monarchy inoffensive – therefore popular – and provides society with a feeling of stability. Queen Elizabeth is, to a large extent, taken for granted by many of her
own subjects. None of them under the age of 60 will have known any other ruler. She has been there all their lives, and appears ageless – at any rate she continues to pursue an active and
demanding round of duties. She remains ubiquitous in
British life – broadcasting every Christmas Day, appearing in the news as she opens something or tours a city or
welcomes a visiting Head of State. Her face is a national icon, endlessly seen on postcards and plates and tea towels. It is on every stamp her subjects stick and on every coin they spend –
and the number of these runs into billions. Occasionally she is criticised in the media for looking glum or for dressing unimaginatively, but if this is true it is not enough to threaten national
approval ratings that consistently stay between 80 and 90 per cent. Mostly, coverage of her is respectful, and therefore may seem dull.

It is often a good deal livelier in other countries for, though she herself is usually treated with respect, the stories reported there are frequently exaggerations or outright inventions.
Without the constraints of deference or litigation that apply in Britain, journalists can afford to be more colourful.
France Dimanche
, for instance, specialises in reporting alleged
quarrels in the Royal Family – it has frequently predicted the Queen’s imminent divorce – as well as numerous threats to abdicate. Abroad, the notion of a monarch is, in any case,
often something of a novelty. When she went to St Petersburg (the first British monarch to do so) in 1994, a member of the public was quoted as saying: ‘We see presidents all the time, but
how often do we have a visit from a real queen?’ When a German was asked what is the function of his country’s Federal President – for the government is run by the Chancellor
– he thought for an instant and replied: ‘It means we have someone to meet the Queen when she comes on visits.’ She is, in other words, a reference point – an affirmation of
their own importance – even for people in countries with which she has no connection. More than two centuries after American independence, this descendant of the Colonies’ former ruler
is sometimes seen as more than a VIP when she goes to the USA. In 2007 she visited Richmond, Virginia shortly after a number of students at a nearby university had been massacred by a gunman. It
was arranged that the Queen meet the families of victims and spend time with them in private conversation. It is difficult to imagine any other foreign dignitary – except
perhaps the Pope – doing such a thing.

But what exactly is it that she does? She presides over a country that is run by others. She makes Acts of Parliament – and all sorts of other documents – legal by putting her
signature on them. She appoints ministers, ambassadors, bishops, judges and military officers. She gives out medals to those people others have deemed worthy of them. She discusses the state of the
country every week with the head of the government, and is allowed to suggest or advise solutions to problems, though she herself cannot even vote. She is required to be constantly on show, so that
people throughout her realms will know she is aware of them and interested in what they are doing, and this takes a good deal of her time. She has to represent the nation abroad so as to improve
relations with other countries, and to represent it at home by speaking to her people at moments of national significance, as well as by opening important buildings or exhibitions or sporting
events. She leads the country’s mourning on Remembrance Sunday, and every Christmas she has to appear on television to wish her subjects well for the coming year.

She carries out these tasks because she inherited them. She does so without fuss or complaint, and with considerable expertise. Yet whatever the position into which the Queen was born, she could
not have fulfilled her destiny so well had she not had a personality suited to the task. Although chosen by accident of fate, she happens to have a passion for it, a genuine sense of vocation. She
has her father’s modest and conscientious nature, which helps her survive the numbing boredom of official events. She is also a woman of fixed tastes and habits, and these have not altered in
any significant way since she succeeded to the throne. She does not like to see change in her routine or her surroundings. Becoming queen at the age of 25,
she very quickly
grew into the job – assisted by her husband, her mother and her father’s advisors – establishing an infrastructure of work and travel and leisure that she has not substantially
altered since. She likes being queen, and she knows she is successful at it, so she has no wish to do things differently. She prefers a life that is planned and predictable and this is as well, for
without it she could not cope with the heavy workload she continues to carry. She sees it as a job for life rather than, like her counterparts in the Netherlands, a position from which she can
retire. Aware of the extent to which she represents national continuity, she wishes to carry on.

This continuity is reflected even in her appearance. She has not, as most women of her age have done, altered her hairstyle for almost half a century. Nor will she, for it has to look just as it
does on coins and banknotes. Although the clothes she wore in the 1950s seem dated when seen in pictures, her personal taste coalesced in the following decade and has not changed significantly
since. Naturally her wardrobe is stylish and expensive, but it has never followed fashion to any significant degree – there was never any question of adopting the foibles of the 1960s or
1970s – and dresses seen in photographs from 40 years ago look much the same as those she wears today. Never in fashion, she is never out of fashion. She has not developed fads for pastimes,
or cuisine, or travel to particular places. Although she could belong at once to the ‘jet-set’ if she wished to, she does not care for the lifestyle or most of the hobbies. She has no
interest in skiing, sailing, playing golf or tennis, though members of her family do all of these. She has no desire to sit at gaming-tables. She is as passionately interested in horses as when she
was a small girl, and as addicted to the decidedly unglamorous pleasures of dog-walking and country life that she has enjoyed since childhood. Her personality and tastes, in other words, formed
early and have remained consistent ever since, adding to the sense of timelessness about her that many find reassuring. As with her tastes, so with her
attitudes. Princess
Elizabeth’s views and habits merged seamlessly with those of her parents and grandmother.

To many, what adds to the impression that she lives in some parallel universe is that she does not express views on the important issues of the moment. She is clearly comfortable with the
constitutional position that she remain aloof from the political process. The whole point of a constitutional Head of State is that he or she has no ties to any party, is not to blame for
government policy and thus stands apart from the crises that embroil politicians and public, representing the long-term view and keeping matters in perspective. In fact, she is intensely aware of
political developments and, after a 60-year reign, is a very experienced observer of the national mood. She meets the Prime Minister every week. She invites senior politicians to banquets at
Buckingham Palace or to ‘dine and sleep’ at Windsor. She has numerous opportunities to discuss, or to hear about, issues from those most deeply involved in them. She has plenty of
opinions, though these are not made known to the public. In private she is lively, shrewd and surprisingly funny; as impatient with pomposity in others as she is with toadying, and skilled in
mimicry. She is largely unflappable, given to quiet annoyance but never explosive rage when something goes wrong, and amused by minor mishaps provided no one is hurt or humiliated by them. She has
a spontaneous wit that can cause her guests to burst out laughing (she once asked a friend of Prince Charles who had driven to Windsor Castle for lunch, ‘Did you find it all right?’) We
know these things, because we read about them, but we also know the public will never be allowed to see this side of her.

Much is known about her hobbies and pursuits (the Turf, the
Daily Telegraph
crossword, detective novels, enormous jigsaws). Thanks to an insatiable appetite for royal trivia, many people
now know that she breakfasts on cereal kept in Tupperware containers. Some of these are half-truths, untruths or speculations anyway. She is said to hate shellfish,
since they
are banned from menus when she is abroad on state visits. That may not be for reasons of personal preference, but rather because any ill effects from eating them could ruin her timetable and
involve letting down people who have waited to see her. Her aversion to avocados, however, is well documented. She thinks they taste ‘like soap’.

Much is also known about the important experiences of her past life, simply because it has always been lived in public. Even such a personal matter as meeting and falling for her future husband
has been, if we are to believe the account of her former governess, told in detail. Nevertheless she has kept private an enormous amount about herself. Unlike her husband and her children, she does
not give interviews – though she has occasionally offered personal memories as part of a documentary. In this reticence she has followed the example of her mother who, despite a sociable and
outgoing nature, maintained strict silence with regard to journalists until the very end of her life (when she spoke on television at the time of her 100th birthday, many viewers had never
previously heard her voice). Given the media-savvy ways of the Royal Family’s younger generations, it is unlikely there will ever again be a monarch who retains such a sense of mystique as
Elizabeth II.