As I have argued more than once, an important and oft-neglected front in the fight for the future of the United Kingdom is the small things which lend a British flavour to everyday life.
Politicians with their thoughts bent on grand legacies tend to fixate on high constitutional reform, and some commentators scoff at the idea that such symbolic issues could possibly sway the minds of voters.
But this is not the view of the separatists themselves. Hence the SNP’s sustained efforts to reduce the visibility of the British state in Scotland, whether that be by rebranding the Scottish Executive as the Scottish Government (and replacing its arms with a big saltire), the abortive but not-yet-abandoned attempt to abolish the British Transport Police, or making the official blue of the Scottish flag different to that of the Union Jack.
They understand, as their unionist opponents should understand, that no matter how important the economic prospectus for independence is to voters, another decider of their vote will simply be how British they feel – and that will depend in part on the extent to which being British is part of the texture of their day-to-day lives.
Such policies are not an alternative to substantive constitutional combat (although they are often, as in the case of the census and the surge in identification as British once the options were put in a different order, intertwined). But they are important.
And the upcoming Coronation is a chance to score an easy win: by finally incorporating Wales into the imagery of the monarchy.
This is the front and back of the new King Charles 50p.
— Will Hayward (@WillHayCardiff) April 11, 2023
As you can see there are four shields. Two for England, one for Scotland and one for Ireland.
For Wales, not a (Glamorgan) sausage.
Let's take a look at why this is a real problem...
[Thread] pic.twitter.com/ec1QuMSf2Q
Wales does not feature for the simple reason that historically, it was not a discrete participant in the formation of the Union. Having been annexed by England in the Middle Ages, the principality was not party either to the 1707 union, forming the Kingdom of Great Britain, nor the latter which created the United Kingdom.
That is obviously no longer Wales’ modern status. And whilst changing the national flag would be a step too far (not least for simple design reasons), there is no reason that the King’s coat of arms should not be updated. It would be a simple and generous gesture – and very fitting for a man who held the post of Prince of Wales as long as His Majesty.
In fact, ministers should go further: it’s time to create a dedicated national order of chivalry for Wales too.
At present, the UK’s two most senior orders are the Order of the Garter, dedicated to St George and England’s national order, and the Order of the Thistle, which is Scotland’s. The third-ranked, the Order of St Patrick, is dedicated to the third kingdom, but has been dormant since 1922.
I have long argued that the Government should revive the Order of St Patrick, especially in the wake of the bruising row over the sea border and attendant unionist disquiet. After all, why should it be dormant when Northern Ireland remains part of the kingdom, and “Northern Irish people continue to make outstanding contributions to the UK in the armed forces, sport, statecraft and more?”
The same argument applies in the Welsh case. The creation of a knightly order would be fair recognition of Wales’ place in the United Kingdom, and bestowing it a chance to honour the contributions of Welsh people to British public life.
People have floated this idea before: David Lloyd George was, unsurprisingly, an advocate, and there was a proposal to create an Order of St David (Order of the Daffodil and Order of the Dragon are obvious alternatives) in 1968. David TC Davies should be the Secretary of State who finally gets it done.
This column covers all three of the devolved nations, so I am resisting the obvious temptation to dedicate each week to a blow-by-blow account of what’s going on in Scotland. I did a piece for CapX this morning for those interested.
The most important revelation since last week, courtesy of Humza Yousaf, is that the SNP’s auditors resigned six months ago, and the Party simply did not replace them. One more for the long list of questions about what Nicola Sturgeon knew.
Oh, and that luxury motorhome the police seized from the house of her mother-in-law turns out to be owned by the SNP. Perhaps it was supposed to be the new battlebus?