Jun 9

Jun 9 The Queen's Platinum Jubilee - a short reflection on a wonderful long weekend

Joining the crowds in the Mall at the Jubilee Pageant

The text from my Canadian friend arrived at the end of the Platinum Jubilee bank holiday. It followed a raft of pictures and delighted comments about the celebrations and events from our WhatsApp group made up of three Americans (one of whom, like the aforementioned Canadian, has lived here for some considerable time), another Canadian and me, the only Brit. It read ‘I’m happy you’re all enjoying it, but I really really don’t get it’.

Having spent the four days of the Queen’s historic 70th anniversary throwing myself enthusiastically into all the celebrations, her observation made me stop and reflect, not just on the events of weekend, but on the Queen, her reign and what that has meant to me.

Let’s start with anniversary festivities which, just in case you were somewhere with no access to (or interest in?) television, radio, internet or newspapers, kicked off with the ceremonial Trooping of the Colour, followed by an appearance on the balcony by the rigorously selected (working only) members of the Royal Family, and a spectacular fly-past with planes flying in a stunning 70 formation and the always thrilling Red Arrows.

That evening saw the Queen set off the lighting of thousands of beacons around the country from Windsor Castle. Where she then remained, unseen at any other event, until the final afternoon.

The full-blown Royal contingent (minus Her Majesty) descended on St Pauls for the Service of Thanksgiving the following day. Then on Saturday night the brilliantly staged Platinum Party at the Palace, starting with that unforgettable Paddington video and featuring artists and performers from every musical genre and generation, which turned Buckingham Palace and the skies above it into a riotous display of lights and images.

The celebrations were rounded off on Sunday with the final flourish of the Platinum Jubilee Pageant, a wonderful and wacky parade that combined more of the ceremonial military marching we’d seen at the Trooping of the Colour, with thousands of performers colourfully celebrating iconic moments from the Queen’s life and rein.

The culmination of the weekend was a second, final appearance by the Queen and her immediate successors on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, greeted by a roaring crowd packed to the back end of the Mall, all furiously waving their Union Jacks and belting out God Save The Queen.

And throughout the weekend, people around the country were also marking the occasion in their communities with street and garden parties.

A considerable amount of my own Jubilee weekend was taken up with watching the events on TV, but I also spent the best part of one day helping to set up, and then thoroughly enjoying my first ever street party.

Partying in the street. Suitably dressed - the street and me! - for a Jubilee celebration

And most of another getting down to the Mall early enough to nab a nearly front row spot for the Pageant (the pressed-up-against-the-barrier positions were already taken by the truly dedicated, like the wonderful Beverley and Alison who had travelled down from Yorkshire and been at every event over the four days, and who had nabbed their slots well in advance of our mere three hours before).

Waiting for the Jubilee Pageant to start with dedicated Jubilee lovers from Yorkshire, Beverley and Alison

So I was lucky enough to experience the Jubilee events in all their variety - remotely, locally and en-masse. And having percolated my friend’s remark through the memories of all those moments, here’s why I really, really do think it all matters.

First, and of course at the heart of it all, is the Queen, and her unique 70 years of service and dedication to her role as our monarch. Having a royal family may seem like an out-of-date, irrelevant anachronism to many people, but for me the consistency, stoicism, quiet resilience, and determined devotion Her Majesty has unfailingly shown through her long reign is an object lesson in leadership in both good times and bad. (Her powerfully reassuring and unexpectedly moving lockdown message to the nation was viewed 24 million times).

And whilst her ‘never complain, never explain’ mantra may be at odds with the share-it-all mindset of more recent generations, I find it impossible not to respect and admire someone who, as an achingly young woman of just 25, vowed to dedicate her life to the service of her country, and who has done exactly what she promised. I mean, let’s not even start on the difference between her and her elected representatives, both (and especially) now and in the past. No really. Let’s not.

For the country, the Jubilee gave us a chance to momentarily set aside the challenges and hardships we’re all currently grappling with, and have done for the past couple of fiendishly difficult years, and revel in the opportunity to have a right royal knees up.

To appreciate and enjoy our unparalleled skill at pomp and ceremony, and our collective ability to put on not just one, but several, spectacular shows, both on land and in the air. And to relish our unique brand of British bonkersness (no such word I know. But there should be) and humour.

And for us as communities and individuals it gave us something more. During lockdown we had forged powerful on-line local communities, supporting each other in the best way we could. The Jubilee gave us the chance to come together in person to share food and fun and to cement those distantly made friendships in real life.

What an absolute bloody joy it all was. And what collective memories we have now it’s all over.

So to Her Majesty I say an unapologetic and heartfelt thank you. For everything you have done and continue to do. For the example you set and the leadership you have shown. And for a weekend of celebrations I certainly won’t forget in a hurry.

And to my lovely friend, and to anyone else who wonders what all the fuss was about, well, that’s what.