Of Pomp and Power: Putting Australia’s Weak Republic Movement in Context

October saw Australia’s head of state visit the country for the first time in 13 years. It’s an odd sentence to write, but one that highlights the odd nature of Australia’s constitutional arrangements. King Charles III of the United Kingdom spent six days in Australia meeting with political and community leaders, as well as appearing at several public events, before heading to the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Samoa.

Australia and the United Kingdom have never been further apart. Their economic interests have diverged significantly in the past 30 years, with Australia integrating itself far more into its own region. While Australian culture retains strong elements of British culture, American influence is now far greater, as are Asian influences given shifts in the country’s demographics.

Despite the AUKUS agreement, there has been a weakening of strategic ties between the two countries. Australia’s focus has been centered on the Indo-Pacific, while the U.K. has been engaged in its own psychodrama with Europe. London may still harbor illusions of being a global player, but the reality is that its own capabilities are mostly confined to its region.

These trends should indicate that the movement toward Australia becoming a republic has greater structural appeal. But the reality is that the prospect of a republic has stalled or even gone backward. The British royal family isn’t particularly popular, nor does the idea of monarchy hold much public attraction, but the general sentiment in Australia is that things function pretty well as is and therefore there is no need to make any changes.

Such changes have potential unintended consequences depending on the model of a republic. Currently, the king only has a symbolic function and no official duties. The governor-general performs all the tasks required of a head of state in Australia. But the governor-general is also a mostly invisible figure. Her duties are only occasionally public, and most Australians wouldn’t even know her name (it’s Samantha Mostyn, in case you were wondering).

Unlike countries like the United States and France, in constitutional monarchies like the U.K. and Australia executive power and the symbols of the state are divorced from one another. We can call it the separation of pomp and power. Political leaders are constitutionally and conventionally restricted from what symbols of the state they are able to wrap themselves in – restricting their ability to use these symbols for emotional manipulation and political gain. Australia has the added advantage that most of this pomp is on display on the other side of the world.

It is here where Australians might intuit some advantages in its current arrangements. Politics for Australians is mostly considered an administrative matter. Politicians are elected to simply do a job, not to cultivate souls. The prime minister is just some bloke who currently has an important role and nothing more, while the governor-general is anonymous. The monarch can turn up once every 13 years and the country can put on a show, but Australians wouldn’t want this happening any more frequently. It is crass, or cringe.

A republic might shift these conditions. A model where a president is elected may politicize the role of head of state. The role would no longer be invisible and therefore could create greater emotion around their duties. It may create a conflict of legitimacy with the government of the day – given that a prime minister is only elected as a local MP, a president with a national vote could claim greater authority. The “reserve powers” to dismiss governments could become less reserved.

Yet a minimal model where a president is appointed by the parliament has been contested. The 1999 referendum on Australia becoming a republic failed because of this split in the republican movement. The model put forward was one where a new president would have the exact same role and method of appointment as the governor-general. Others wanted to change the nature of the position through an election. The Australian Republic Movement currently is pushing for an elected head of state.

There remains the core idea that Australia’s head of state should be an Australian. Alongside this, hereditary monarchies are antiquated at best and repugnant at worst. Yet moral or ethical claims are not sufficient when making great constitutional changes; there needs to be an awareness of the practical implications. Powerful new institutions need immediate credibility, and this requires great care with their construction.

There is a paradox with the minimal model of an Australian republic in that it may be necessary for this constitutional change to be successful, but doesn’t inspire the public enough to make such a change. An appeal to national pride may create the impetus for a republic, but it may also unleash forces that make the constitutional changes dangerous. For now, a distant foreign king whom nobody really cares much about may be considered the safer option.