How Welsh nationalism shaped the King

Royal Mail needs a history lesson. In preparation for this weekend it has dedicated four special post-boxes emblazoned with a coronation emblem and Union Jack, sent to every corner of the UK. But what did it expect by placing the box in Cardiff city centre directly outside the pub named after Owain Glyndŵr, rebel and hero of the Welsh independence cause? Within hours it was covered in nationalist and republican stickers.

How amusing, especially during the week of the coronation, that this small protest offered a glimpse into the real tension that exists between the royal family and Wales. It is a complicated relationship, mostly because the Welsh are a complex and disparate people. At the same time as patriots being haunted by the demise of medieval native princes, the Welsh republican movement has never been a major organised force. The majority of the public embraced the late Queen who – among other revered qualities – miraculously empathised with a nation so often tormented with collective despair, most vividly during the Aberfan mining disaster.

Charles III came to know, respect and love Wales even more than his mother. As Prince of Wales, he expanded the role to serve as a platform for his campaigns but uniquely he also acknowledged the country whose title he was ‘privileged’ to bear. Over six decades, the future King became immersed in Welsh life, which was closely aligned to his own personality. The promotion of the Welsh language was a natural fit for Charles’s cultural interests, for example, while the Royal Welsh Show was a perfect setting for local farming and environmentalism to be championed. How ironic that Wales had to wait centuries for a prince that was a Cymrophile.

This is not to say that the princely experience in Wales was an easy one for the King. The demise of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd at the hands of Edward I in 1282, coupled with the failure of Glyndŵr’s revolt in the early fifteenth century, are painful and intoxicating histories in equal measure. Indeed, if Welsh history had been taught more widely in our schools, attitudes to the modern Windsors may have been very different. And equally challenging for the royals is the changing nature of Welsh society, especially in a politically devolved context; when it once could host a grand investiture for the new Prince of Wales in 1969, a sequel for William was shelved quietly last year after disquiet among a largely republican Welsh political establishment. 

Navigating the politics and protest of Wales is a definitive experience that Charles has taken to his role as monarch. Even in Caernarfon six decades ago, the young prince was threatened by nationalist protests that extended to a bombing campaign. It set a dramatic marker that the authority of the royal family was by no means guaranteed in every part of Wales, even if support nationally remained relatively high thanks to the Queen’s longlasting reign.

Charles managed this tension through a clever balancing act, confronting ghosts of the past and carving out a position that was unoccupied in Welsh public life. At the state openings of the Senedd he fulfilled a de-facto head of state role while, alongside the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh, helping to constitutionally legitimise the institution following a narrow ‘Yes’ vote in 1997. On numerous occasions, he even paid tribute publicly to Llywelyn ap Gruffydd and the ‘great Welsh rulers’ who had held the same title before him. Surrounded by Welsh advisers, Charles rarely put a foot wrong on Welsh affairs, even engaging meaningfully with nationalist figures such as folk singer Dafydd Iwan, who mocked him publicly with his iconic Carlo anthem in the 1960s and 70s.

From the environment to architecture, coverage of the coronation has recognised the deftness of a monarch, who can recognise changing public attitudes and handle delicate matters. But underappreciated is his embrace of distinctive national identities, in the UK and across the Commonwealth.

As documented in a new book by BBC Wales journalist Huw Thomas, Charles recognised as Prince of Wales when things seemed out of step with public mood and left the institution looking alien to even receptive audiences; the renaming of the Severn Bridge in his honour, which sparked widespread complaints over a failure to launch a public consultation, was one example. And his affection for Wales is surely not debatable. Though not represented on the Union flag and the Royal Standard, Wales will be at the heart of this weekend’s events: music will be sung in Cymraeg and the Cross of Wales will lead the procession at Westminster Abbey. 

In a different context, and indeed on a more global scale, Charles will have to engage with Commonwealth countries who have a recent harrowing story with Britain and its monarchy. Yet his comments made at the transition ceremony for Barbados to become a republic in 2021, where he condemned the ‘appalling’ history of slavery in the Caribbean, signals that he will approach matters of great sensitivity with the same consideration we have become used to. Which, in all likelihood, will see Charles III in the history books as the King who managed a steady decline of the number of realms where he is head of state.   

Wales will not be one of them. Polls ebb and flow, but generally support for the monarchy in Wales remains relatively strong. Those surveyed by Lord Ashcroft this week found that the majority supported maintaining the royal family, even though close to half said that the institution feels more like an English rather than a UK-wide asset. Perhaps the greater challenge, if not the turning wave of public support, is navigating a role for the Prince and Princess of Wales. Ashcroft’s poll found that around a third of those surveyed wanted the titles abolished, a campaign that is gathering steady pace and is championed by Michael Sheen, who has called for the title to ‘no longer be held in the same way as it has before’. There are parts of Wales where, of course, spotting a royalist has always been a spectator sport. In Ceredigion, for example, there have reportedly been no applications to the council for road closures relating to street parties, and obscene displays of pomp and ceremony will surely jar with the day-to-day experience of Welsh families suffering from the cost-of-living crisis. 

Even so, more perilous for the monarchy is not the public but the politicians. Welsh Labour and Plaid Cymru, firmly on the political left and staunchly republican by instinct, have urged a ‘national conversation’ about the future of the Prince of Wales; and William himself still looks uncertain as to his purpose in a Welsh context. Still, the magic of the royals works in Wales. It has been enhanced in significant measure by the new King who, like Elizabeth I, is a Welsh speaker and understands this part of the realm. The coronation, then, will set in motion a new era of relations between the British monarchy and the people of Wales. It is a relationship embroiled with difficult history, will never be simple, nor should be taken for granted. The King knows that all too well.

Join The Spectator’s Fraser Nelson, Katy Balls and guest Camilla Tominey from the Daily Telegraph for a special edition of Coffee House Live covering what kind of monarch Charles III will be, and whether the coronation will distract voters from the Tories’ predicted heavy losses in the local elections. 10 May from 7pm. Book your tickets today.