The Modern Powers of the Crown-as-Monarch
So, what powers — beyond those listed above, which are rarely (or never) exercised without the advice of first ministers — are left to the sovereign and vice-regents? In a modern constitutional system founded upon the supremacy of parliamentary assemblies, the rule of law, and responsible government rooted to democratic elections and the will of the people, does the Queen have any real power?
The answer is yes. Although the Crown-as-monarch is often viewed as a mere figurehead, powerless and without authority, such a perception is mistaken. Since the advent of responsible government in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the Crown-as-monarch has always possessed and maintains to this day two types of power: one hard, the other soft. Hard power refers to the ability to issue orders and directives that must be obeyed because the person issuing the order or directive has the legal power to do so. Hard power is about being in command of a situation and being able to authoritatively direct a desired course of action. Soft power, by contrast, is more about influence rather than legal capability; those exercising it invite others to rethink issues and options, to shape how they perceive reality or reconsider how they should utilize their own power to make decisions. Hard power is highly formal and direct, and clearly visible when it is exercised. Soft power is quite the opposite. It is informal and indirect, usually little seen, sometimes little felt. Often the object of the application of such power may never know that he or she has been influenced until after the event. The fact of hard power is immediate, like a lightning bolt; soft power, by contrast, is indeterminate, a process of becoming. The remaining hard powers of the Crown — the “reserve” powers to be utilized during extraordinary times of parliamentary crisis — will be the focus of the next chapter. Here, attention will be devoted to the much more common soft power.
This kinder and gentler Crown power was vividly articulated by Walter Bagehot in his 1867 study of the English constitution:
To state the matter shortly, the sovereign has, under a constitutional monarchy such as ours, three rights — the right to be consulted, the right to encourage, the right to warn. And a king of great sense and sagacity would want no others. He would find his having no others would enable him to use these with singular effect. He would say to his minister: “The responsibility of these measures is upon you. Whatever you think best must be done. Whatever you think best shall have my full and effectual support. But you will observe that for this reason and that reason what you propose to do is bad; for this reason and that reason what you do not propose is better. I do not oppose, it is my duty not to oppose. But observe that I warn.” Supposing the king to be right, and to have what kings often have, the gift of effectual expression, he could not help moving his minister. He might not always turn his course, but he would always trouble his mind.[8]
Here, in a passage that has been especially studied by Elizabeth II and her father and grandfather when they were each teenagers, we find the quintessential statement of the type of influence and power that the sovereign and her vice-regents usually seek to exert if and when they are given the opportunity to express their opinions on matters of public policy to their first minister. As we’ll see in the next chapter, the Crown is rarely called upon to exercise the hard powers that it retains. Indeed, using them invariably entails so much controversy that the Queen and her governors live in the hope they never have to. The far more routine application of Crown influence comes through the ability to speak to his or her first minister one-on-one, in private, with the first minister absolutely assured that such conversations are guarded by the strictest sense of confidentiality. The first minister can speak his or her mind bluntly to the Crown representative, and, in turn, he or she can speak openly, incisively, and, if need be, critically to the first minister. While all governors possess such soft power, it is in Britain where this authority is most felt due to the presence of a hereditary monarch as head of state.
As of 2018, Elizabeth II has been on the throne for sixty-six years. During this time, she has known thirteen British prime ministers serving under her, beginning with Winston Churchill from 1952–55 and extending to Theresa May. It has been the Queen’s tradition throughout her reign that, as long as Parliament is in session, she and the prime minister will meet weekly to discuss affairs of state. This practice is not a simple ritual, as Harold Wilson learned the hard way. When he arrived at Buckingham Palace for his first audience with the Queen in 1964, expecting a general chat, he soon found himself facing detailed questions about British monetary policy and the balance of payments deficit. Wilson later wrote that he was embarrassed to have been “caught out,” and he advised his successor to “read all his telegrams and cabinet committee papers in time” so as not to “feel like an unprepared schoolboy.”[9] Edward Heath subsequently noted that the Queen could exert significant influence through an “exchange of views” with her prime ministers, but she would never tell one of them directly what they should or should not do.[10]
A royal message, however, could always be delivered to those who knew how to read the signals. As royal biographer Ben Pimlott has written of these policy discussions between the sovereign and her prime ministers, “[i]f she approved, she would say so, positively. Disapproval was indicated by a significant failure to comment.”[11] Margaret Thatcher also noted the importance the Queen gave to these meetings: “Anyone who imagines that they are a mere formality or confined to social niceties is quite wrong; they are quietly businesslike and Her Majesty brings to bear a formidable grasp of current issues and breadth of experience.”[12] In a rare glimpse of the Queen’s own thinking on the value of these meetings, Elizabeth II has said that her prime ministers can “unburden themselves” by speaking with her. “Occasionally,” she noted, “you can be able to put one’s point of view which, perhaps, they hadn’t seen it from that angle.… I think it’s rather nice to feel that one’s sort of a sponge and everyone can come and tell one things.”[13]
In assessing the Queen’s exercise of such “soft power,” English constitutionalist Vernon Bogdanor has written that Elizabeth II’s influence is very much related to her institutional memory, her deep knowledge of British politics and government throughout the twentieth and the early years of the twenty-first century, her access to privileged and top secret cabinet documents provided to her regularly in dispatch boxes, and her understanding of the country gained from extensive travel. She knows her realm just as she has known every major British political figure dating back to the early 1950s, and her own personal memory of politics and constitutional affairs stretches back to the abdication crisis involving her uncle, Edward VIII, in 1936. The longer the Queen’s reign, the greater is her experience and the more context, background information, and wisdom she can offer to a prime minister. Given her age, there is now no one in Britain who can boast a longer experience in public life. Through the process of “doing her boxes,” the Queen has become an expert in the contemporary history of the British government and its foreign diplomacy. Bogdanor has also noted that the Queen’s ability to influence the thinking of a prime minister is likely inversely related to the degree to which a matter of public policy is ideologically charged, but directly related to the extent to which a matter of public policy touches upon Commonwealth interests.[14]
This latter point is important as it addresses one of the Queen’s great interests in international affairs: the Commonwealth. Most British political commentators agree that on this subject, Elizabeth II is one of the foremost British experts. She is intimately acquainted with the Commonwealth’s history and purpose as well as its public policy initiatives in the fields of good governance and human rights promotion, social and economic development, environmental protection, and public education. She has a wealth of knowledge about its past and current worldwide leadership, and she is profoundly aware of its current political challenges. As head of the Commonwealth, Elizabeth II takes her role very seriously,
and she has been instrumental on more than one occasion in shepherding the organization through turbulent times that might have resulted in the break-up of the Commonwealth without sound leadership.
Two notable meetings, one in Lusaka, Zambia, in 1979, the other in Nassau, Bahamas, in 1985, provide evidence of the Queen’s deft handling of her soft power. In the first instance, the great issue of the day revolved around what to do with Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, whether economic sanctions should be maintained upon the white Rhodesian government, and whether Commonwealth-sponsored democratic elections could be organized so as to give birth to an independent, black-majority-ruled Zimbabwe. While all Commonwealth members save one supported the continuation of sanctions in the lead-up to democratic elections establishing the state of Zimbabwe, the one holdout was the British government led by Margaret Thatcher. At the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Lusaka, the tension was palpable, with many African leaders threatening to leave the organization if Zimbabwean independence could not be affirmed. Enter the Queen, as head of the Commonwealth.
According to Sally Bedell Smith, another royal biographer, the Queen saw her role at this meeting as that of an active and sympathetic facilitator of discussions between leaders. Her goal was to see those leaders arrive at a consensus that would produce a peace plan for Zimbabwe while maintaining, and even enhancing, the integrity and purpose of the Commonwealth. Throughout the four days of this often heated conference, the Queen held private audiences with each of the participating heads of government. “In these sessions,” notes Bedell Smith, the Queen “conveyed sympathy for their position without explicitly stating her own, and they came away impressed by her knowledge of their problems. By bringing down the temperature, the Queen made it easier for Thatcher to move toward the Commonwealth position.”[15]
Six years later, at the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Nassau, the Commonwealth was again facing rupture over the issue of sanctions against the apartheid regime of South Africa, with the British government of Margaret Thatcher again being the odd player out. Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney was the official Commonwealth chairperson for this meeting. He had been encouraged by the Queen to use his diplomatic skills to build support for an array of sanctions against South Africa that could also gain the support of the British government. While Mulroney was busy working the back rooms, searching for a compromise that could bridge the divide between the pro- and anti-sanctions camps, the Queen “dispelled tensions in her individual meetings with the leaders … emphasizing the ‘moral obligation’ to keep talking.”[16] This conference eventually resulted in a unanimously approved communiqué denouncing apartheid and calling upon member states to curb bank loans and trade missions to South Africa while exploring other sanctions that individual member states could take against the apartheid regime.
Brian Mulroney’s commentary on the Queen’s leadership during this event is instructive:
There was no doubt that Her Majesty sided with the Commonwealth. But she couldn’t speak out. You had to understand the nuances and body language. She did it by allusion and indirection. At the dinner she was a great moderating influence on everyone. She led us through an elevated discussion on human rights. I don’t know how much opinion she expressed but she would nudge everyone in a certain direction. What saved the day was that Margaret [Thatcher] was aware Her Majesty certainly wanted some kind of resolution. So we were able to put in three or four financial things that Margaret accepted, which allowed us to move on to the next meeting without rupture.[17]
This is a classic description of the subtlety and artistry of soft power, and the ability to direct the course of action through influence and moral suasion.
Vice-Regal Soft Power in Canada: The Politics of Limitations
Elizabeth II has honed her ability to exercise soft power in the United Kingdom. She makes full use of her rights to be consulted, to encourage, and to warn. Every single one of her prime ministers has spoken about the benefits of their weekly audiences with the Queen. If the Queen has set the gold standard respecting the application of royal influence to ongoing actions of responsible ministers, then she has set a standard that is impossible for any of her vice-regents in any other Commonwealth realm to equal. No governor in any Commonwealth country can ever hope to wield the same type of soft power as can the Queen. Each has institutional and political limitations undercutting his or her prestige as a leader.
The most obvious and most important distinction separating the sovereign from her vice-regents in Canada is the simple fact that she is a monarch and they are not. The Queen, quite simply is The Queen, possessing all the stature and grandeur associated with the monarchy. The sovereign sits on a throne symbolizing over a thousand years of political and constitutional evolution. The British and Commonwealth sovereign is, by definition, a person with an international public persona and, for better or worse, a person who attracts enormous worldwide media interest. Most everybody in the world could identify a picture of Elizabeth II; hardly anybody outside of Canada would be able to identify a picture of any Canadian governor general or lieutenant governor. Even within this country, most Canadians would likely fail such a test. Every sovereign has the aura of nobility and royal tradition that flows from the institution of the British and Commonwealth monarchy. While vice-regents are part of that tradition, they are distant satellites to the Queen’s sun.
The politics of the appointment process have also served to weaken the stature and credibility of vice-regents in the eyes of many first ministers throughout Canadian history. The position of governor general was long held by British appointees, with the first Canadian not appointed to the role until 1952. From Confederation until 1926, the British government perceived the governor general to be not only the representative of the Crown in Canada but also the representative of the United Kingdom’s government in Canada, with instructions to advance British interests in this country. Given this dual role, it is not surprising that governors general appointed by the British government at time locked horns with their Canadian prime ministers, the latter of whom tended to believe that these vice-regents were ill-informed and meddling. Alexander Mackenzie, the first Liberal prime minister, believed that Governor General Frederick Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, Lord Dufferin, was “treacherous” in his interventions respecting federal-provincial relations, while Robert Borden wearied of a string of complaints raised against his government’s military policies during the First World War by Governor General Prince Arthur, the Duke of Connaught.[18] As we will see in the next chapter, Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King was infuriated by the actions of Governor General Julian Byng, going so far as to criticize him during the election of 1926 for promoting unconstitutional behaviour on behalf of the Conservative Party.
When Canadians began to be appointed to the position of governor general in 1952, the tension point shifted from the governor being British to he or she being an appointee of a prime minister and party no longer holding power. Prime ministers John Diefenbaker, Lester Pearson, Brian Mulroney, Jean Chrétien, and Stephen Harper, for example, all “inherited” governors general appointed by the political opponents they subsequently defeated in their quest for power. In a number of these cases, the new prime minister found himself dealing with a governor general who had clear partisan connections to the former government. In 1984, Conservative Brian Mulroney came to serve under Governor General Jeanne Sauvé, a former cabinet minister in the Trudeau Liberal government. Likewise, Liberal Jean Chrétien was sworn into office in 1993 by Governor General Ray Hnatyshyn, a former cabinet minister in the Mulroney government. In somewhat different circumstances in 2006, Conservative Stephen Harper entered office under Governor General Michaëlle Jean, a well-known journalist who had been appointed by Liberal prime minister Paul Martin.
All these circumstances of appointment have tended to obstruct prime ministers from developing close relationships with their vice-regents. The latter have
often been viewed by their political masters as either “British” appointees or “partisan” appointees of an old and discredited party, at least in the eyes of the new prime minister. The limited term in office of any one governor general also inhibited the ability of the vice-regent to develop a lasting and mutually respectful relationship with the prime minister. There never developed in Canada the tradition of the prime minister meeting weekly with the governor general to discuss affairs of state. As political scientist MacGregor Dawson explained, Canadian prime ministers, in contrast to the British practice, had historically distrusted “the mediocre talents of certain Governors” and “the old functions of the Governor as Imperial Officer.”[19] Although more recent prime ministers have never spoken ill of any governor general, it remains true that prime ministers in Canada have nowhere near the formalized consultative relationship found between the Queen and her prime ministers in Britain. It is not hard to imagine that Mulroney would have looked somewhat sceptically upon Madame Sauvé, or that Chrétien would have been less than desirous of sharing his thoughts with Mr. Hnatyshyn. And, although this thought is purely speculative, it is highly unlikely that Stephen Harper ever wanted to hear Madame Jean’s opinions regarding his public policy objectives.
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