Another incident from the orgy of monarchist mourning:

I knew that Charles Windsor would be declared “King Charles III” in official ceremonies around the UK. I had assumed they would be fairly small-scale….

It was only when I went to church that I learnt that there was not only a proclamation in Oxford but a procession that would start just outside our church. I was feeling sad and angry as I left church and walked past the cordoned-off streets, and saw the dignitaries and military leaders standing on the steps of Carfax Tower in clothing more suited to the 16^th century. This, apparently, is how we proclaim a new head of state in 21^st-century Britain.

After making slow progress along the pavement, I asked the police how I could get across to the other side as the road was closed off. When I expressed a mild criticism of the royal procession during my question about the road closures, they became defensive and refused to talk with me further. Someone who had heard me came over and challenged my views, but the police told us not to talk to each other. I have no idea on what basis the police stop people with different views having a discussion.

You and a lot of gender critical women.

He was stuck there so he listened to the proclamation.

I remained quiet in the first part of the proclamation, concerning the death of Elizabeth. Any death is sad and I would not object to people mourning.

It was only when they declared Charles to be “King Charles III” that I called out: “Who elected him?” I doubt most of the people in the crowd even heard me. Two or three people near me told me to shut up. I didn’t insult them or attack them personally, but responded by saying that a head of state was being imposed on us without our consent.

A security guard appeared, stood right in front of me and told me to be quiet. Two more security guards came along and they tried to push me backwards. As I asked them to give the legal basis for what they were doing, the police came over, more or less moved the security guards out of the way and took hold of me. I was outraged that they were leading me away, but was taken aback when they told me they were arresting me. I have no illusions about the police’s questionable relationship with the law, but I seemed to have been arrested for nothing more than expressing an opinion in public. They gave me confused answers when I asked on what grounds I had been arrested.

Lèse-majesté of course! Mind you that’s not illegal except in Thailand, but the police get to make up their own laws when it comes to Saying Something Naughty.

Eventually I was handcuffed—I don’t know what sort of threat they thought I posed—and put in the back of a police van. A police officer got in the van and took my details. After lots of conversations on his radio, he said I would be de-arrested but that they would want to interview me. I said I would do so only with a lawyer present. After some more radio conversations he told me I would be de-arrested and then contacted to be interviewed at a later date, and possibly charged.

For saying “who elected him?” It’s trumpian in its absurdity and overreach.

Eventually, on the way home, I was told that I had been arrested under the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act (the outrageous act passed earlier this year) for actions likely to lead to “harassment or distress.”

Vivat rex!