THERE ARE MANY questions that plague the world right now. When will the Ukraine war end? Will the Supreme Court legalise same-sex marriage in India? But there is one question that is more enduring than any of these. Is it time to abolish the British monarchy? Despite the seriousness of the issue, the people who most want the monarchy to continue are not the royalists, it is the comedians. After all, what other institution can boast of people with titles like ‘James the sh*t’, ‘John the babymaker’, or 'Richard Queen Dick’? What other people are governed by so many rules that it would put to shame an American high-security prison? British royals cannot have their Christmas dinner without weighing themselves first. They must keep a record of the official gifts they receive. They cannot play Monopoly, wave with their right hand or eat shellfish.
But keeping these archaic rules will not be uppermost on the mind of King Charles III. He has many other things to worry about. How to connect with ethnic minorities in a Britain that is increasingly becoming racially diverse. How to bring about change while remaining conservative. How not to interfere in politics while making his voice heard. And then there is the issue that overrides them all―how to make people forget the image of him breakdancing at a charity event.
Charles’s mother and predecessor, Queen Elizabeth II, was renowned for her sense of humour. Charles might be decidedly less humorous. Maybe his decades-long wait as heir apparent has rusted his funny bone. But of course, this is not to say that Charles has not occasionally delivered a coup de maître. Once, at a Prince’s Trust gala, Charles played a waiter in a sketch with Stephen Fry and Roger Moore. A group of Charles lookalikes comes and serves Fry and Moore. Finally, the real Charles comes with a towel draped over his arm and asks whether the food had been to their liking. “I know who he is supposed to be, but he needs to work on his voice a little,” Fry tells Moore.
Another time, Charles delivered the weather report for the BBC. “Who the hell wrote this script?” he joked while reporting snow over the royal residence of Balmoral Castle in Aberdeenshire. At the 1994 British Comedy Awards, comedian Spike Milligan called Charles “a little grovelling bastard”, and later wrote to him asking for a knighthood. “Try a little judicious grovelling,” Charles answered.
When it comes to humour, however, more jokes have been made about him than by him. Many wrongfully describe him as a walking, talking parody. Unfortunately, gaffes are nothing new to the king. There was the time he called China’s ageing leaders “appalling old waxworks”. Then there was the “leaky pen” affair that went viral on the internet. Then, of course, there was the infamous Tampongate, where Charles tells Camilla he wishes he was a tampon so he could live inside her.
The truth is that, whatever Charles does will become grist for the humour mill, and he knows it. The world will call him by different names as they have before, whether it is ‘Hooligan of the Year’ (by the RSPCA when he hunted boar in Liechtenstein), ‘Prince Red Chow’ (by the Kainai tribe of Alberta) or ‘Pommy Bastard’ (by the Timbertops School in Australia). They will make fun of him for his pick-up line in Cambridge (“I like to give myself heirs”), for sleeping in the nude and for taking his toilet seat (covered in white leather) wherever he goes.
He is in a no-win situation, unless…. He could, of course, turn his snooty nose up at these commoner comedians and say nothing. Or, he could dust off that funny bone and come up with some royal rejoinders. He could put his reputation on the line and give as good as he gets. That would be more momentous that Watergate, Tampongate and all other gates. For Charles, this could be payback.