I'm proud to be a member of the "Humourless Left"

Is the Jubilee fawning really what we do better than anyone else? If so, is that something to be proud of?

As we prepare to take down our soggy union jack bunting ahead of the ceremonial handover to St George flags on car roofs, I’m left with questions. Is this really what we do better than anyone else? If so, is that something to be proud of?

Yes, I’m glad of a day off (though it’s unpaid in my case). But I’m also allowed to have a look at what’s happened over the past few days and marvel at the sheer madness of it. Aren’t I? Or must we be shackled to the warble of jubilation, the hearty cheer and the wave of a plastic flag, above every sliver of criticism? Is no mockery allowed?

I fully accept the moniker ‘the humourless left’. Yes, we are the buzzkill, killing your buzz, your fading glow of empire and ‘wasn’t it fun when we were starving people to death and putting people in concentration camps, and now all we do is run call centres’. That’s fine. I am the Humourless Left, left without humour or fun at a time when no-one has any jobs or money while we watch giant golden things belonging to one family. 

But I have just seen, on television, Huw Edwards looking out of a window at the Queen passing by in a coach. He did it, and I saw it. It was as if the BBC were justifying the enormous expense of this four-day royal love-in by that moment. “See, I can see it through the window!” Huw was trying to say. And all I could think of back was “Oh, well good for you, mate.”

There have been similar moments of bafflement right across the weekend. I’ve seen Emma Bunton talking about bunting. I’ve seen Ronnie Corbett provide narration of a room full of people eating their lunch. I’ve seen Stevie Wonder and Will.I.Am wish her majesty a happy birthday, and suffer the tsunami of criticism from the Twitter pedants as a result – like we even know when either of the Queen’s birthdays is meant to be. I’ve seen people talking about boats for what seemed like a lifetime, but which was only really six hours of live TV. Boats! People on boats for six hours.

As ever, the BBC’s rivals have used this occasion as a stick with which to beat Auntie – sometimes fairly, sometimes not. It’ll be interesting to see when the accusations of ‘leftist bias’ return to the corporation after these days in which everything’s been wonderful, and everyone loves the Queen, and everyone everywhere has been just like the perma-grinning mobs on the Mall.

We’ve even seen the biased anti-Tory BBCCCP bring in David Cameron for a couple of hassle-free cosy chats about how much he loves the Queen as much as we plebs do at home, at a time when his ministers are raising fresh questions about their conduct. Give it a week, though, and the usual suspects will be railing about how the Beeb is a hive of pinko nastiness.

Truth is, in the cold light of day and with the right royal hangover receding, you can only broadcast what's there. The Big Society flotilla was a soggy shambles – bring along the little ships from Dunkirk and have done with it. The Queen’s concert was enjoyable enough, though not always for reasons of quality – poor Cheryl Cole (sorry, Cheryl) wailing away into the evening air will live long in the memory, but not for the right reasons.

And of course, there are questions now being raised about the free labour used to steward the billionaires’ fun – obviously by the Humourless Left, who can’t just sit back and anaesthetise their critical faculties for four days, mewling idiots that we are. I dare say there were lovely scenes in communities up and down the country getting together, but that was hardly touched by what we saw on TV – it was the usual Londoncentric celeb-heavy drivel.

It’s just that I feel almost apologetic about pointing this out, like I shouldn’t be doing it. I’m not ruining anyone’s fun, but come off it – if you think we sold ourselves as a nation of anything other than willing subjects prepared to bow and scrape to our betters, I think you’re mistaken.

Jubilee: A royal supporter holds Queen Elizabeth and Union flags as people wait on the Mall for the carriage procession of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. Photograph: Getty Images.
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Geoffrey Howe dies, aged 88

Howe was Margaret Thatcher's longest serving Cabinet minister – and the man credited with precipitating her downfall.

The former Conservative chancellor Lord Howe, a key figure in the Thatcher government, has died of a suspected heart attack, his family has said. He was 88.

Geoffrey Howe was the longest-serving member of Margaret Thatcher's Cabinet, playing a key role in both her government and her downfall. Born in Port Talbot in 1926, he began his career as a lawyer, and was first elected to parliament in 1964, but lost his seat just 18 months later.

Returning as MP for Reigate in the Conservative election victory of 1970, he served in the government of Edward Heath, first as Solicitor General for England & Wales, then as a Minister of State for Trade. When Margaret Thatcher became opposition leader in 1975, she named Howe as her shadow chancellor.

He retained this brief when the party returned to government in 1979. In the controversial budget of 1981, he outlined a radical monetarist programme, abandoning then-mainstream economic thinking by attempting to rapidly tackle the deficit at a time of recession and unemployment. Following the 1983 election, he was appointed as foreign secretary, in which post he negotiated the return of Hong Kong to China.

In 1989, Thatcher demoted Howe to the position of leader of the house and deputy prime minister. And on 1 November 1990, following disagreements over Britain's relationship with Europe, he resigned from the Cabinet altogether. 

Twelve days later, in a powerful speech explaining his resignation, he attacked the prime minister's attitude to Brussels, and called on his former colleagues to "consider their own response to the tragic conflict of loyalties with which I have myself wrestled for perhaps too long".

Labour Chancellor Denis Healey once described an attack from Howe as "like being savaged by a dead sheep" - but his resignation speech is widely credited for triggering the process that led to Thatcher's downfall. Nine days later, her premiership was over.

Howe retired from the Commons in 1992, and was made a life peer as Baron Howe of Aberavon. He later said that his resignation speech "was not intended as a challenge, it was intended as a way of summarising the importance of Europe". 

Nonetheless, he added: "I am sure that, without [Thatcher's] resignation, we would not have won the 1992 election... If there had been a Labour government from 1992 onwards, New Labour would never have been born."

Jonn Elledge is the editor of the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric. He is on Twitter, far too much, as @JonnElledge.