The British are not used to having a sick monarch. The whole point of the institution is to convey an image of resilience and invulnerability and to be seen in public, so King Charles’s decision to announce his cancer diagnosis publicly is to be commended for its commitment to openness. Early indications from Buckingham Palace, doctors and Downing Street are that there is nothing to worry about and, as Rishi Sunak let slip this morning, the disease, whatever it is, has been caught early. The king is, after all, 75 years old, active and fit on two meals a day, but he is of an age when many men receive such a diagnosis.
The speculation will start now. It is 72 years to the day since a shocked and deferential British public woke up to the news that Charles’s grandfather George VI had died in his sleep. Not even the king had apparently been told that, after a lifetime of heavy smoking, he had lung cancer – though perhaps the fact that his left lung had been removed in an operation at Buckingham Palace four and a half months earlier might have given him a bit of a clue. Those in the know, like the then prime minister, Winston Churchill, knew better, but no one else did, despite his haggard appearance. It could barely be disguised with makeup when he saw his daughter Princess Elizabeth off on a foreign tour from Heathrow a week before his death, the official cause of which was given as coronary thrombosis.
Charles has robust genes (and doesn’t smoke). The Queen was still undertaking royal duties 48 hours before her death aged 96, after 70 years on the throne, and his father, the Duke of Edinburgh, got to 99, but what are we to make of the king’s recent health problems – first treatment for an enlarged prostate, and now this?
We should welcome Charles’s insistence on openness and reassurance, though it is pretty partial. We do not know what sort of cancer it is, or what the treatment is likely to be; still less, and understandably, the prognosis. The palace’s statement may have been to placate public concern about absences from public appearances, but of course it won’t (and some at the palace would probably say that there would not have been any speculation at all if nothing had been said). In the days of social media, the gossip and rumours will be virulent and obsessive, so it is probable that confidentiality will not last long.
As the oldest king to accede to the throne, it has always been known that Charles’s reign will be relatively short, but news of his cancer is bound to raise concerns. Who is going to take his place if he is incapacitated, or in decline? When the king talked of a slimmed-down monarchy, did he really mean there would not be enough royals to go round opening things, touring factories and travelling to the realms across the world? Is this the start of the end for a British head of state in Tuvalu, let alone Australia?
Some questions are easier to answer than others. Does Prince Harry flying in to see his father signal a rapprochement? Answer: probably not. Will Prince Andrew be allowed back into the public realm to help out? Definitely not.
What about his duties? Last year there were overseas tours and more than 500 public engagements, plus the daily round of red boxes of official papers from the government and private meetings, such as those weekly briefings with the prime minister. Charles has already said he will step back from public duties during his treatment, so who will take up the work? It is going to be a busy year politically. For decades we never had to deal with these questions, as Queen Elizabeth II was always there in blooming health, but now we must.
Every official photograph will now be scrutinised for signs of physical weakness, or changing appearance. Is he losing weight, has he lost hair? Will hebe able to be the kind of monarch Britain had expected? Will the short reign that has long been expected prove to be much shorter than anticipated?
These may be heartless and intrusive questions – and they may be made redundant by a rapid return to apparent health – but they will hover prominently in the background. Like every monarch since William the Conqueror, kings have to be seen to be believed. Now that the monarch has opted for openness, can the flow of information be contained?
Stephen Bates, a former Guardian correspondent, is the author of Royalty Inc: Britain’s Best-known Brand and The Shortest History of the Crown.
Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
