John Armstrong's opinion: Where was the royal family in New Zealand’s hour of need?

Where was the royal family in New Zealand’s hour of need?

The absence of the country’s head of state left a gaping hole in the line-up of dignitaries and foreign emissaries attending the national remembrance service honouring the 50 victims of the Christchurch mosque massacres.

The no-show begs some questions - the primary one being why bother with them if they cannot be bothered with us?

It goes without saying that the Queen is exempt from such criticism. No-one expects someone who will be celebrating their 93rd birthday next month to fly to the other side of the planet at the drop of a hat.

When it comes to dropping the ball, the Prince of Wales, the first in line to the throne, can also be excused - just - for not dropping everything to catch the next plane out of Heathrow heading our way.

Charles and Camilla have been on a ground-breaking visit to Cuba, where they have been waving the Union Jack on behalf of British companies seeking to exploit the opportunities to make a lot of loot available when communist regimes open up their economies to competition.

The royals’ capacity to open doors closed to everyone else means they are of some practical utility - but only to Britain, not to us.

With Charles in the midst of his Grand Tour of the Caribbean, the ball has been passed to Prince William as second-in-line for the throne, with the Queen formally designating him as her representative in honouring those cut down by the alleged gunman’s shooting spree while they were at prayer.

So problem solved? Not exactly.

Sure, William is now scheduled to make a short trip to New Zealand, but not until late next month - some six weeks after the double atrocity in two Christchurch mosques.

Why did it take the best part of two weeks for Kensington Palace - the Duke of Cambridge’s official residence in London - to confirm that he would be paying a visit to these shores?

Sure, the Governor-General was on hand as the Queen’s representative at Friday’s remembrance service.

Sure, the New Zealand Police were probably grateful that the duke was not there, thus avoiding putting even more strain on a force whose capability to provide security protection is already stretched to the limit.

Indeed, they might well have advised the powers-that-be that that was their preference.

We will never know because the police will never tell us.

Sure, the authorities might well have agreed that entertaining someone with an international profile as pronounced as Prince William’s made absolutely no sense when the threat-level for a further act of terrorism happening in New Zealand is officially set on high.
But enough of the excuses. If there is such a risk, why is he coming at all?

Well might such gripes be dismissed as little more than nit-picking given the circumstances; that complaining in such fashion is to focus on the trivial, thus devaluing remembrance service; and, that this was the wrong day to be posing such questions.

If those questions are not asked on such a day, when are they going to be asked?

There is a risk of taking two plus two and making five. But something does not add up. Something’s not quite right.

Passing their condolences on Instagram - as William and his brother have done - simply does not cut it. New Zealanders deserve better - much better.

But don’t blame the royal family. It is not their fault that this country cannot wean itself off an anachronism, namely the monarchy.

Some will argue that it does not matter; that Queen has no power in New Zealand’s political system; that successive Governors-General have long taken the view that should the country be plunged into a constitutional crisis that their role should go no further than reminding the politicians that it is their responsibility to sort it out.

All of this might be construed as a backdoor bid to push the cause of republicanism. That accusation is valid. But there is a lot more to it than that.

The last two torrid weeks have been a search for meaning — a search for comprehension as to how evil could grow within one individual such that it shut out all vestiges of humanity.

But the aftermath of the slaughter has also witnessed a collective search on the part of the populace for a fresh sense of national identity - what it means to call oneself a New Zealander.

This search for the renewal of nationhood, which balances the need for unity with recognition and acceptance of diversity, has been the all-powerful undercurrent motivating the public displays of compassion exhibited by the veritable mountains of floral tributes; the countless candle-lit vigils; the hands of the majority reaching across religious and ethnic divides to a minority, gestures quickly and gratefully reciprocated by that minority through means of warm embrace.

All of a sudden, the frightened are no longer treating the Muslim Call to Prayer as a call to arms.

The two minutes of silence which stopped the nation have kick-started a long-delayed dialogue about the racism in New Zealand, all this culminating in a remembrance service where the loudest and longest applause was for the speech delivered by the Prime Minister. It amounted to a vote of thanks for her steering the country through this terrible time.

Throughout, Jacinda Ardern has stressed the need for unity. To a degree, she has embodied it. But that can only go so far.
At the end of the day, she remains a political animal.

That is why other nations have elected presidents whose role is largely restricted to ceremonial duties, but whose office serves as a unifying force in times of crisis.

It is high time New Zealand followed suit.

The answer to the question of where is the royal family in New Zealand’s hour of need is simple. New Zealand does not need the royal family.

As long as there remains such an antiquated connection as that between New Zealand’s unwritten constitution and the monarchy of another country, however, there cannot be true nationhood.