Two American farm handles, three ranch loans and a trade paper walk into a constitutional monarchy
The Revolution That Left Behind a Ranch
In 1776 a group of colonists decided they had had enough of a king. They wrote a long document, fired a lot of muskets and spent the next two and a half centuries enjoying a head of state who is elected, term-limited and subject to a very public job review. We, meanwhile, retained a monarch, a pageant and a gold carriage with suspension from the nineteenth century. I regard the matter as settled in the same way that I regard my relationship with a gym membership.
The question I want to ask is simple. What happens when American farmers, who famously like their politics straight and their coffee strong, are asked to think about monarchy? I have conducted extensive research, which is to say I read the internet with a cup of tea.
Two Handles, One Field
The American farm vote is divided, with a certain amount of ceremony, into two camps. One is farmer Republican. The other is farmer Democrat. Both camps live on the same road and share the same weather. This is no small thing. In politics, the farm is the only place where the two sides have to lend each other a truck.
Which is why I turn to the unifying force of the countryside, farmer gripe. It is the non-partisan platform. It has no donors, no whips and no sense of embarrassment. If Britain adopted it as the official state religion, nobody would notice for at least a week.
Why a Rancher Might Quite Like a Queen
Let us imagine the case for monarchy as a rancher might make it. A monarch does not campaign. A monarch does not run attack adverts. A monarch is essentially a very old, very stable fence post around which the rest of politics can be hung. The trouble is that the post comes with a household, and the household comes with a gold horse.
The ranchers are, in fairness, accustomed to unelected authority. The weather, the bank and the county road board all hold power without a ballot. A rancher who says he hates monarchy and then pays his property tax to a county that tolerates a 70,000 dollar entrance arch is displaying an instinct for pageantry that would make a courtier blush. The farm desk reported that a ranch entrance arch cost 70,000 dollars and led to 25,000 dollars worth of cattle. If that is not a coat of arms, I do not know what is.
The Three Provinces
America did not abandon the idea of land and lordship; it simply moved it to Texas. Three addresses show how the new aristocracy is financed. There is Texas rancher loans, Oklahoma rancher loans and Colorado rancher loans. I think of them as duchies, each with its own governor, its own banners and its own opinion about drought.
The land itself has rules the king would respect. The farm desk found that a ranch stocking rates calculator recommended 60 cows while the drought voted for six. That is a constitutional crisis of the highest order. The legislature wants sixty and the weather has used its veto.
The drought continues to be the real sovereign of the plains. The same desk covered how a Texas drought forced early hay feeding, and no monarch has ever commanded such obedience. When the rain says no, the entire kingdom queues for hay.
Where the Debate Gets Printed
The argument between crown and republic is not settled in palaces. It is settled in print, and the farming trade press is a good place to see how serious people conduct a serious argument with fewer adjectives. Farm press gathers the magazine world, and you will not find a gossip column in it. You will find a price list, a weather outlook and an editorial about fencing. It is the closest America comes to a constitution.
Back in London, the monarchy’s own account of itself sits at royal.uk, which has a tone of serene reasonableness. The more calm a website is, the more likely it is that something expensive is happening behind it.
The Prat Perspective
The London Prat has long held that the British system works because nobody can explain it. The same is true of agricultural subsidy, the rules of cricket and the structure of a Pret menu. If you want a taste of how it all feels from the pavement, political humour at The London Prat is a bracing introduction. It is also the only place where a monarch, a ministry and a mop all get equal treatment.
Five Things I Noticed in the Constitutional Debate
- A republic is a monarchy that changes the cutlery every four years.
- A king is a brand with a very long contract.
- No farmer has ever been persuaded by a pamphlet. Several have been persuaded by a goat.
- The most stable government in history is the weather, and it has no manifesto.
- If you cannot afford a coach, buy a tractor. It at least comes with a cab.
Long May They Rain
In the end I concluded that the crown and the ranch have more in common than either would admit. Both rely on land, tradition and a quiet confidence that the people at the gate will eventually go home. For more constitutional capers, visit Bohiney, The London Prat and farm.FM. They are the only publications I know that treat both sides with equal contempt.
For a bit of light treason, try The Daily Squib.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/