Every opinion piece you're about to read about the royal baby

In predictable fashion, anyone with a column to fill in the next week is going to write about the new royal arrival. Rafael Behr saves you the trouble of reading them.

It was a quiet news week and then a royal princess had a baby. Every columnist and commentator in the land will want a piece of the action. To save you some time, here is every opinion piece to be published in the coming days.

A moment of national joy to celebrate. Britain is champion country of the world

Patriotism by numbers with a passive aggressive hint that failure to be moved by a royal birth means there is something shrivelled and ugly about your soul.

This monarchist carnival proves that we are a Conservative country, which is a good thing

David Cameron spoke for us all when he said "congratulations." How dismal life must be for the tiny minority of joyless lefties shivering on the margins of our national identity.

This monarchist charade proves that we are a Conservative country, which is a bad thing

This is surely how Solzhenitsyn felt. We republicans are internal exiles and dissidents.

It just goes to show how class is dead

The Middletons are so middle class they even have “middle” in their name. What more proof do you need?

It just goes to show how class is alive and kicking

Oh Britain! How easily you are seduced into deference and feudalism.

This is the spawn of imperialism and don’t forget it

Hysterical rant about the evils of the British Establishment

Gotcha! Lefties hate babies – how dare Labour call itself compassionate

Gleeful denunciation of extreme republicans culminating in call for Ed Miliband to distance himself from a comment someone unconnected to the Labour party may have made on the internet.

He will be the Twitter King

Getting desperate now. What’s the social media angle?

He will not be the Twitter King

Oho, you all fell for the social media angle, but really this is a timeless thing that transcends faddish technology.

Leave the poor child and its parents alone

No-one should write about this anymore, apart from me and this, obviously.

 

 

The Sun's royal boy-baby frontpage. Photograph: Getty Images

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

Getty
Show Hide image

Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

0800 7318496