The Irish and the coronation

SINN Féin’s Michelle O’Neill’s acceptance of a seat at the coronation elicited some of the ambiguous feelings towards the British monarchy that have often been evident in Ireland.

On the one hand, Ms O’Neill was the butt of some criticism and mockery – an amusing photoshopped picture of herself decked out in union jack colours, like the most fanatical East Belfast loyalist, circulated on social media. Peadar Toíbín, formerly of Sinn Féin and now leader of Aontú, the newer republican (and socially conservative) party was strongly critical. He said that the Belfast leader had “made a mistake” in accepting the invitation, and that “grassroots Republicans will be very annoyed”. Some called her, inevitably, a “flipflop” and a “turncoat”.

We are living in a time of great change. A time to respect our differing and equally legitimate aspirations, and focus on the opportunities the next decade will bring Michelle O’Neill on attending the coronation

But there were plenty who thought that it was shrewd for Sinn Féin to position itself, politically, as representing all of the people of Northern Ireland, including those from a Unionist background. Just as an ordinary member of parliament doesn’t just serve those who voted for her or him - they serve the whole constitutency, so should a leader.

And since peace policies are enshrined in the Good Friday Agreement – so recently celebrated by President Biden – isn’t any gesture of peace and reconciliation a positive one? Plenty of Irish people saw Michelle’s response as “mature”, and “welcome”. I heard of applause in West Cork, endorsing the view that “the further south you go in Ireland” the less animus towards the old British-Irish conflict.

There has always been an ambiguous attitude in Ireland towards the British monarchy and its ceremonials. The pomp and circumstance have been ridiculed as “Ruritanian”, and opposed to the modern age’s emphasis on equality. The Protestant tradition of the Hanoverian inheritance – in which, until the coronation of George V, the church of Rome had to be specifically repudiated, and the veneration of the Blessed Virgin Mary denounced as a form of idolatry, was also offensive to the majority of Irish people.

“The Crown” itself represented, for many nationalists, the subjugation of the Irish people, so memorably underlined in popular ballads like The Fields of Athenry – in which the “Crown” is associated with the Famine).

In 1937, at the coronation of George VI, and then in 1953, at that of Elizabeth II, the policy of the Dublin government was to remain “aloof” from proceedings. The Irish Legation in London (as it then was) was forbidden, by De Valera himself, to join other diplomatic corps in displaying bunting for George VI.

In 1953, attitudes were austere, and while the Irish ambassador, Freddy Boland, attended Elizabeth’s coronation, it was emphasised that he did so for protocol reasons only. No Irish political figure was present – Ireland had recently become a republic in 1949, and felt the need to affirm its distance from Buckingham Palace.

And yet, at the same time, there has always been a kind of fascination with these rites, steeped in spiritual symbolism, going back over a thousand years. There has also been a human interest in the people involved. Secret movies of the 1953 coronation were privately shown in the Republic, and magazines with details of the events were discreetly circulated.

For, however much republicans may disagree with the system of monarchy, there is always a human fascination with display and rituals, as well as a compelling interest in the personalities involved.

The Windsors are a dynasty, and a dynasty is a family: and Irish society, with its own ancient clan-based roots, has always had a strong grasp of family dynamics. Screen series like “The Crown” have been widely watched in Ireland; news of Harry and Meghan’s antics are as closely followed in Ireland as elsewhere.

Modern celebrity culture has, to some extent, also changed the perception of “the royals”. They are less viewed as a caste of aristocrats, and seen more as a cast of celebs.

Peadar Toíbín has underlined the political perspective of the coronation – objecting to the Legacy Bill, protecting British military personnel involved in the North’s Troubles, which the King will shortly sign into law. But probably most people think that politics are for another day – the coronation itself is a party. And King Charles’s decision to include the Irish language in the procedure has been welcomed.

And let’s honestly admit that most women will be riveted to see what the attenders are wearing. Who doesn’t like looking at an elegant hat,

MAJESTIC MUSIC: A piper in the Irish Guards regiment of the British army preparing for the big occasion Picture: Getty Images a designer ensemble, the jewels and the tiaras? And who doesn’t enjoy people-watching? The gathering of monarchs, heads of state and distinguished notables from all over the world will surely be as compelling as the pageantry that ensues with sceptre, crown, orb and gold coach.

In truth, Michelle O’Neill has taken a historic step, even if, for some, a controversial one. As the daughter of a strong Tyrone IRA republican, who started her adult life as a teenage single mother, Ms O’Neill certainly has crossed a bridge, and perhaps built one, by her presence at the solemn enthronement of King Charles and Queen Camilla. n Mary Kenny, one of Ireland’s most respected historians and journalists, is the author of Crown and Shamrock: Love and Hate between Ireland and the British Monarchy