Karim, King of England

by Baz Wade

  “I will introduce you to the permanent Secretary in the Department and together you can produce some written proposals for me to place before the Cabinet.”

  “I am very happy to accept what you say about pluralism. In particular I’d like to see Oxbridge Colleges adopt a more pluralistic approach in regard to their names – having regard to their funding from the State. How about less emphasis on Christianity and more on some of the other beliefs, and that would mean not just Islam but also Hinduism, Buddhism and Marxism, for example?” contributed Sharif.

  “Yes, certainly, the more isms the better, I expect,” joked Khan, perhaps not realising how serious Sharif was on this point.

  “Well, at the last count only 44% of the British public were prepared to call themselves Christians, with 48% other religions or none, and 8% don’t know,” commented Sharif.

  “Yes, I expect 48% included a substantial number of Jedi Knights so I hope you’re not proposing to impose on Trinity College a new name with a Star Wars theme, like Interstellar College or Darkside College, perhaps!” countered Khan.

  “In fact we are very serious about this. The two best Universities in this country are dominated by Christian and Imperialistic symbolism and people wonder why it is that they only manage to attract and accept a very modest percentage of ethnic and religious minority students,” argued Sharif.

  “Okay, but it won’t be plain sailing,” said Khan.

  “If they don’t accept what we say, we’ll withdraw funding and impose the new names by Act of Parliament. If necessary we will drag them kicking and screaming into the Twenty First Century.”

  Sharif was true to his word and shortly after being appointed Education Minister, he embarked on a campaign to “update” some of the Oxbridge Colleges. He encountered some resistance from graduates and the Press but significant numbers of dons and students supported his actions, leading to the Colleges in question putting up less resistance than had been anticipated.

  As a result of his efforts, Christ Church, Oxford was re-named Red Crescent College; Balliol, Oxford became Jinnah College, named after the founder of Pakistan. In Cambridge, Trinity College became Karl Marx College and St John’s became Gandhi College.

  Prime Minister Lena Khan folded the newspaper and slotted it into the webbed pouch in front of her knees. She fastened her seatbelt and while the stewards checked the passengers were likewise ready for takeoff, she sat back to reflect. There was still jihadist trouble despite concessions to some Islamic aspirations. It was clear that fundamentalist elements would continue to regard Ibrahim’s party as not truly Islamic. MI5 she knew was struggling to contain jihadi threats as illegal immigration from the war-torn Middle East continued to defy renewed efforts at border security.

  Having taxied to its takeoff position, the chartered aircraft roared its engines into life and they began their ascent. Watching the airport buildings below dwindle and vanish behind her, she was startled by a touch on her shoulder and the look of concern on the face of Mike Sharrock, her MI5 duty.

  “I’ve been alerted of a threat to the King on his way to open Parliament,” he said. “The Director needs your authorisation to postpone proceedings.”

  “What now?”

  A stewardess suddenly appeared as Sharrock was passing his mobile phone to the Prime Minister.

  “I must insist you switch off your phone and return to your seat, sir.”

  “There is a matter of national security that needs immediate attention,” he retorted sharply.

  “If a mobile phone is not in flight mode, there is a serious risk of interference with the communications from Ground Control.” The stewardess looked from one to the other sternly. “You will be endangering the lives of everyone on this plane.”

  “This will only take a minute.” Khan’s tone was also firm and authoritative as she put Sharrock’s phone to her ear.

  “Saladin, Sir Reginald,” she replied to the urgent voice demanding her codeword for identification. “Fill me in briefly if you would…”

  The plane banked suddenly and the phone was yanked out of her grip. As the stewardess fumbled frantically with the keypad, Khan’s attention was diverted by the screams of her fellow passengers, mainly Khan’s staff and media people. The fast approaching Sussex countryside dispelled all thoughts of phones, MI5 and the security of His Royal Highness King James.

  Grabbing a newspaper as he emerged from the Westminster underground station, Majid Sharif continued walking briskly toward the Houses of Parliament. Impatiently leafing through the Sun as he went, he shook his head.

  While the paper exposed and deplored corruption by Treasury officials, and paedophiliac activity in the Church of England, there was insufficient condemnation of the partisan interference by the King on the side of the old Establishment and its financial, military and religious institutions. Sharif expected more of Andy Sheikh. It didn’t help mollify social relations in the RUK of course that Queen Clarissa still had not retracted her insults about “khaki coloured scumbags” and Karim being an imposter like Perkin Warbeck. Nor had King James condemned her views or done anything to distance himself from them. The Sun’s support for the MDP was hardly going to influence the behaviour of the King and Queen but the majority of people would be hoping for more robust criticism from the paper that prided itself on being anti-establishment. The crowd were in good humour though as they lined Parliament Street waiting for the royal carriage, happy that at last democratic norms had been restored after an election even if there was no longer any United Kingdom.

  The Education Minister should have taken his place in the Commons an hour ago but responding to the number of complaints about renaming Christ Church Oxford as Red Crescent College in particular, had delayed his journey. Nevertheless, at 11.10 am, when the Diamond Jubilee State Carriage, resplendent in black and gilt, drawn by four white horses escorted by the Household Cavalry, came into view as it drew level with the Winston Churchill statue on Parliament Square, Sharif stopped to watch the royal couple beaming and waving to the crowds behind the barriers along its course.

  Majid Sharif felt stirred by conflicting emotions. The royal carriage was built out of a cornucopia of cultural artefacts, symbolic of what made Britain great not only as a military power but as a civilising force. Since studying the British monarchy as part of his degree course, Sharif had kept abreast of developments. He knew the crown on the roof of the carriage had been carved from Nelson’s flagship Victory, its walls and door panels decorated from what had been retrieved from Scott’s Antarctic base and Henry VIII’s flagship Tudor Rose, and that some part was made from a musket ball from the Battle of Waterloo.

  Majid Sharif was surprised at how patriotic he was feeling. His parents felt strongly that the British Empire had robbed their homeland of its resources and he had joined Ibrahim’s party at their behest with the intent of burrowing into the heart of the Establishment and changing the UK from within. Uncomfortable in feeling a sense of pride in his adopted country, Sharif tried to rationalise his conflicting emotions. Britain’s confidence as a nation was based on its coherent set of values of openness, tolerance and fair play, built upon the significant efforts of its leading lights to do the right thing in the world as well as by its history as the largest empire ever to bestride the globe. While this coach represented conquest, there were elements in its construction that related to Shakespeare, Charles Darwin, Edward Jenner and Florence Nightingale as well as digital copies of the Domesday Book and the precursor of Britain’s democratic tradition, the Magna Carta.

  Aware he had to be in the Commons chamber before the carriage arrived at the Sovereign’s entrance, Sharif turned left and pushed his way through the throngs of people cheering the royal procession. Turning for a last look, he froze. A man was leaping over the barrier in a gap between two policemen. Then running alongside the carriage, the cry ‘Allahu Akbar’ went up just as the man detonated his su
icide vest.

  It must have been a huge charge because the explosion was ear-shattering. The ornate crowned roof was immediately ablaze and 2.75 tons of carriage was blasted across the street, dragging the horses with it, to crash into a barrier. Police were immediately visible, several tearing through what remained of the mangled doors of the carriage to attend to the royal occupants, others to help the onlookers crushed under the carriage and barrier.

  Amid the smoke, screams and confusion, Sharif ran over to help. A groaning woman was bleeding from her crotch as she tried to get out from under the barrier. Seeing she was pregnant, Sharif looked around for any sign of medical help and saw an ambulance stationed close by. Its paramedics were already busy among the crowd; seeing Sharif’s urgent gesticulations, one came to help and together they lifted the bleeding woman into the ambulance.

  Looking around for the next victim to help, Sharif’s eye fell on a sparkling object lying in the road. In the confusion nobody observed him pick it up and slip it into his pocket. What to do with the diamond-encrusted imperial carriage door handle would be a matter of conscience that the high-flying son of British colonial subjects, hailing from the Empire’s jewel in the Crown, would wrestle with when he had a quiet moment later.

  At 10 Downing Street, the mood was sombre. By 3pm, the Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC) had assembled in the Cabinet Room to assess the events of the morning. Being the only minister to witness the monarch’s assassination, Sharif had also been invited to join the meeting. From his seat close to Ibrahim, Sharif could read the front page of the afternoon edition of the Evening Standard the Acting Prime Minister had spread out on the oak table in front of him.

  While most of it comprised the bold headline ‘OUTRAGE’ above pictures of the mangled carriage, the lower part of the page of the paper read:

  “Prime Minister killed as plane

  takes off. Terrorism suspected”

  “Colleagues, this is an unprecedented moment in British history,” said Ibrahim. “Never have we lost both our Sovereign and Prime Minister to terrorists, let alone on the same day. While you would think the odds of such happening again in the future are negligible we must not presume this, nor let our guard slip. We must take immediate steps to identify the perpetrators of these heinous acts, plug the holes in our intelligence responsible for its failure and ensure security is tightened. The situation must not be allowed to deteriorate further.”

  Ibrahim looked across the table directly at the Director of MI5. “So how do you account for such a massive intelligence failure, Sir Reginald, and what measures will you be taking to assure us nothing like this will ever happen again?” he asked.

  “There was no failure of intelligence, Prime Minister,” came the unfazed Director’s response. “MI5 were aware of the threat to the Royal Family. We contacted your predecessor at once for authorisation to halt the opening of Parliament. With the most tragic of timing, her plane was lost before she could give it. I was actually in conversation with her at the time it went down.”

  “And what did you deduce as to the cause?”

  “I immediately assumed there had been a breach of security but there was no explosion or gunfire before we were cut off, only screams.

  The Black Box flight recorder has been recovered but there has not been enough time yet to analyse the data. I am assured that, contrary to popular belief, a phone call to or from a mobile is never enough to cause the loss of control of an aircraft. In the absence of pilot error, we are likely to be left with an electronic systems failure or contaminated fuel, as the likely cause. Be that as it may, due to this fatal incident, I was unable to get authority to call a halt to the proceedings.”

  Ibrahim’s phone vibrated. The Prime Minister glanced down then put it to his ear.

  “Your Highness… yes, I am with our security chiefs now.” Sharif was aware Ibrahim had spoken to Prince Richard within minutes of his father’s assassination not to only express his deep personal sympathy but to advise him that he should address the nation as soon as he had the composure so to do.

  “Their advice is you address the country this evening,” Ibrahim advised the new King. He continued to listen in silence to the response before clicking off the call.

  “Colleagues and officers, you will understand Prince Richard is in deep shock. He feels he cannot address the country this evening. Indeed, he is planning to leave Britain at the earliest opportunity once the King and Queen are buried.”

  Silence fell. After what seemed to Sharif an eternity, it was Sir Reginald who broke it.

  “With respect, Prime Minister, the nation too is in shock. Somebody with political authority needs to address the public and assure them they are in charge, that the danger has passed and His Majesty’s security forces are in full control of the situation.”

  “Yes, I agree,” responded Ibrahim. “As Deputy and now Acting Prime Minister I will address the country this evening.”

  “It only needs to be a calming 2 or 3 minute session just saying you are in charge and that the emergency services, including the military, are in full control of the situation on the ground,” offered the MI5 chief.

  “That’s not a problem, I will do it,” confirmed Ibrahim.

  Following the untimely deaths of his father and stepmother, King Richard IV quickly decided to accept an invitation from Julian Muldoon, the Canadian Prime Minister, to take refuge in Canada on an extended holiday with his wife and family.

  Three days after James and Clarissa’s State funeral, Ibrahim telephoned Richard in Canada.

  “Good morning, Prime Minister, or even afternoon, I expect, in your case.”

  “Good day sir – I will get straight to the point – when do you intend to return here, please?”

  “Mr Muldoon has said we can stay here as long as we like and, as you know, we have always been very welcome in Canada and we are really feeling at home, thank you.”

  “I know the murders of your father and the Queen were a terrible shock for you, as they were for me and your government. We would, however, like you to return here and assume properly your role as Monarch and Head of the Commonwealth based in London.”

  “To be frank, Prime Minister, I am fed up with London, fed up with Britain, and I honestly fear for the future – I have a young family to consider and it looks like your government is unable and, dare I say it, unwilling in some cases, to guarantee my security.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear you say that, sir, but we need a fully functioning Head of State – a Monarch as we are not a Republic and you are the rightful heir to your father’s kingdom. May I also remind you that all MPs still swear an oath of allegiance to the Monarch before they are allowed to take their seats in the House of Commons.”

  “That’s all very well, but there are clearly undercurrents in British society that don’t want the likes of my father and me around any longer…”

  “It’s only a very small minority, sir.”

  “People often say that, but if security is not tight enough, then a small minority can do a lot of damage, as we have already seen. My wife wants me to abdicate for the sake of her and the children–”

  There was a pause of a few seconds while Ibrahim digested this information.

  “I hope that’s not a serious proposal, sir.”

  “I’m thinking about it, and you will be the first to know if I decide that’s the way to go…”

  “It’s not just Britain that’s involved, it’s the Commonwealth as well, sir. Personally I would very much like you to continue, just so long as you know that.”

  A few pleasantries were then exchanged and the call ended.

  Ibrahim only told the Foreign Secretary, Ross Clarke, about the content of this call, but when two weeks later Richard and his family had still not returned from Canada, popular speculation in the Press and elsewhere suggested that Richard and family would not b
e returning to London any time soon.

  Ibrahim telephoned Richard and discussed the speculation that Richard was already aware of.

  After a lengthy discussion, it was eventually agreed that Richard would let Ibrahim have a final decision on whether or not he would abdicate, within the following ten days.

  Nine days later, Ibrahim received the call from Richard he had been dreading.

  “Prime Minister – I said you would be the first to know – I have decided to abdicate on behalf of myself and my heirs. The only precedent I can think of is that set by my uncle, Edward VIII, in 1936. However, I am sure government lawyers can draw up the necessary documents and I will instruct my own solicitors, Duncan Lithgow, of Chancery Lane to assist where necessary at my expense.”

  “I am very sorry to hear you say that, sir, but naturally I will respect your decision and do everything possible to promote an orderly transition…”

  Ibrahim was struggling to contain his emotions and his concern that he would inevitably be blamed in some quarters for Richard’s abdication.

  “May I ask a favour, sir?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I think it would be appropriate for you to broadcast your decision to the nation…”

  “Yes, I had thought of that and I will do it – don’t worry, I will put in a word for you and confirm that I absolve you from personal responsibility.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  It was sobering for Ibrahim to realise that, over the years, he had morphed from staunch Republican critic of British Imperialism through to admirer of Churchill, and now a sentimental supporter of the Monarchy – hence his personal sadness at Richard’s decision.

  In the days and weeks following Richard’s abdication, left wing and Republican MPs took full advantage of the Monarchy’s precarious state and managed to persuade Ibrahim and the Cabinet to declare the RUK a Republic, with Ibrahim as Prime Minister and acting Head of State, such was his personal popularity. The Republic would be known as the British Free State.