King should be cheered by Australian outrage at heckler
It was all going so well. The King and Queen’s visit to Australia had begun with cheering crowds and waving flags. Talk about republicanism had all-but fizzled out. Even the rain had stopped.
On day four, when they arrived in Canberra, the story of the day initially seemed to be an alpaca that turned up to a walkabout in a gold bow tie and crown, and proceeded to sneeze as the King stroked its nose.
Instead, just as the King delivered his first speech as monarch in Australia, a lone voice piped up in Parliament House and everything changed.
“You committed genocide against our people,” came the shout. “You are not my King, f--- the colony.”
The speaker turned out to be Lidia Thorpe, an Independent senator and Aboriginal republican with a long history of protest.
With the King and Queen on the stage in front of her, Ms Thorpe was escorted from the hall as guests at the event stared and reached for their camera phones.
If the British visitors were surprised, they did not show it. The Australians in the room – politicians, public figures, honoured guests – identified Ms Thorpe’s voice within seconds and knew what to expect.
Outside Parliament House, where hundreds of well-wishers had gathered to catch a glimpse of the King and Queen, there was a mixture of resignation and irritation.
“Oh she dropped the F bomb?” said one member of the Australian media, who was not alone in seemingly rolling their eyes at the protest.
From there, the condemnation was swift, thorough, and almost universal.
Credit: SBSNews/X
Anthony Albanese, the Australian prime minister, called Ms Thorpe’s actions “disrespectful” and “not the standard of behaviour Australians rightly expect of parliamentarians”.
For Nova Peris, a former senator and the first Aboriginal woman elected to the Australian parliament, it was “both embarrassing and disrespectful to our nation and the Royal family”.
She said the actions “do not reflect the manners, or approach to reconciliation, of Aboriginal Australians at large”.
Prof Marcia Langton, a leading indigenous academic, also called the episode “embarrassing and shameful”.
Aunty Violet Sheridan, a senior Ngunnawal elder who conducted a “welcome to country” ceremony at the event, condemned the outburst as “disrespectful and rude”.
She said: “We are all so disappointed by it. He is our King, our sovereign and he has got cancer. Hopefully people see it for what it is. A one-off idiot.”
Numerous Aboriginal elders and leaders felt moved to apologise for what they feared may be a stunt that poorly represents their communities.
The overriding sense – apart from frustration – is embarrassment.
Australia has been proud of its welcome for the King and Queen. Even avowed republicans promised to be on their “best behaviour” and did just that, extending the hand of friendship and keeping up the honoured Australian tradition of hospitality.
The fact that it may now appear they have fallen short on the world stage, thanks to one lone protester, is painful.
“Lidia Thorpe is a one-trick pony who craves shameless publicity over substance while pocketing a taxpayer-funded salary of almost $260,000 [£133,339] working in an institution she claims to rage against,” thundered the front page of The Australian newspaper.
“A Royal Pain in the House,” read its headline.
The Daily Telegraph, the Australian version, led with “disgusting”. Channel 10 noted admiringly that “their Majesties kept calm and carried on” in its evening news programme.
It is not the first time the King and Queen have heard such protest. On their first engagement in Australia at a church service in Sydney, they may have heard similar shouts about genocide on a megaphone from a protester outside.
The King is interested in such matters and rarely shies away from engaging with them. He will have already prepared to listen and empathise with concerns on his visit to the National Centre of Aboriginal Excellent in Sydney on Tuesday.
The sense in Australia is not that the argument itself is invalid. Most people commenting on the protests make a point of praising the country’s democracy, which allows for such freedom.
The problem is in its delivery. “So rude,” said one member of the crowd outside Parliament House when news of Ms Thorpe’s intervention spread.
Even The Guardian, instinctively republican-leaning itself, noted that “Thorpe’s outburst will probably increase sympathy for the royals among Australians, who are ambivalent about the monarchy but believe in at least being polite to guests”.
The King himself was said to be “unruffled” and determined not to let it spoil an otherwise “wonderful day”.
That it fell on the busiest day of his working life since his cancer diagnosis – 10 engagements and two flights in 12 hours – could not fail to take its toll in some way. He appeared tired by the end of the day, onlookers said.
His team, who may have heaved a small sigh of relief that the republican protests came to nothing, could be forgiven for feeling rattled.
The King and Queen have one more full day in Australia. It will include a pre-planned meeting with the Aboriginal community, a Sydney barbecue where chefs are planning to serve sausages and an event highlighting cancer research.
Given the very public insult to the King, a walkabout at the Sydney Opera House may prove the defining moment of the tour.
It is the last and best opportunity the Australian public have to show their support before the King and Queen leave for the next leg of their trip in Samoa.
Whether they decide to rally to his side or stay away, may give the best insight yet into the future of the monarchy in Australia.
If the King and Queen opened their newspapers over breakfast in Sydney on Tuesday morning, they may also be cheered by one story.
Underneath articles about the heckle, in the Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, is a photograph of that sneezing alpaca in the Royal tour spotlight after all.
