A crowning irony

Last October I covered the washout that was Spanish National Day in Madrid; to avoid a repeat, Spanish Armed Forces Day is being marked in the Canary Islands this weekend.

The Canary Islands are a Spanish archipelago off the coast of West Africa so the weather can be pretty much relied upon to be clement at any time of year. But there is the added advantage, too, of their having two capitals to hedge all bets. Santa Cruz in Tenerife and Las Palmas in Gran Canaria share the honours of hosting the islands' parliament so it makes political, diplomatic and climatic sense to hold two parades, at least one of which is bound to be dry.

There is also the bonus of having, in both cities, magnificent seaside settings for army, naval and air force displays. However, with a small but growing independence movement in the islands there is a danger of such junkets looking triumphalist. After all, the islands were conquered by the Spanish in the fifteenth century and the indigenous peoples enslaved or marginalised. Young Canarians especially are increasingly alert to the incongruity of shows of military might presided over by the Spanish king and queen on Canarian territory.

Both King Felipe VI and Queen Letizia have been in the islands and have officiated in person at both ceremonies, the king in his white naval uniform and the queen in a simple white dress. The appearance of 'tropical whites' has lent an uncomfortably colonialist air to the proceedings and one wonders that the unfortunate images of Britain's Prince William and Princess Kate on their disastrous Caribbean tour in 2022 didn't serve as a warning of hubris to the Spanish monarchy.

On that misjudged and ill-omened outing there were violent protests in Belize, which shares a similar colonial history to the Canaries, as well as disquiet in a number of the other former colonies. There is news of an anti-militarist protest having been mounted in Gran Canaria today but no anti-monarchist demonstrations have emerged as yet. It seems Canarians are saving their collective ire for anti-tourism demonstrations, which are growing in both regularity and numbers.

Meanwhile, in London, the Republic movement, which I support, is gearing up for another protest rally on The Mall at Trooping the Colour on Saturday 14th June. In March I wrote of my experience of attending Republic's Commonwealth Day protest opposite Westminster Abbey and I have no reason to believe that next Saturday's anti-monarchist event will be any less enthusiastic, with a sea of distinctive yellow and black 'Not My King' and 'Down With the Crown' placards and banners, plus a lot of booing and shouting, making it difficult for the passing royal family to ignore as they leave and return to Buck House. The mainstream British media, alas, will probably be looking the other way as usual.

Although La Casa de Borbón does not share the same level of affection as the House of Windsor, even under King Charles, there is no active equivalent to Republic in Spain so far as I'm aware. The Spanish monarchy seems to be a cause of public indifference and apathy rather than active antagonism. King Juan Carlos, now the King Emeritus living in self-imposed exile, was very popular in the 1980s, when he was hailed as the saviour of democracy after the failed military coup. 

His image nowadays is irrevocably tarnished by scandal and disgrace, though his estranged wife, Queen Sofia, seems to have retained the affection of the Spanish people. Her daughter-in-law, Queen Letizia, is not much-liked and, as a former journalist, is seen as a pushy and unsympathetic commoner. Felipe is widely viewed as weak and hapless, bearing the nickname 'the Unready', which doesn't bode well for his reign.  Leonor, Princesa de Asturias (the Crown Princess), aged nineteen and currently serving in the navy, is widely seen as the future of the monarchy - if, that is, the institution survives her parents.

Tactless displays such as those in the Canaries this weekend are unlikely to advance her cause.

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