Editorial: As clangers go, King's is a shocker

The King of Tonga following his coronation in Nuku'alofa last year. Photo / Glenn Jeffrey

Opinion

A year ago, when Siaosi Tupou V was formally crowned King of Tonga, he was a distant figure to most of his subjects. A lavish lifestyle and dubious business judgment meant he also enjoyed little of the reverence accorded his predecessor, King Taufa'ahau Tupou IV, who had ruled the island group for 41 years.

The new King was not only drawing from a diminished well of respect because of his own standing, however. The monarchy's sluggish response to Tongans' urge for democracy had created an undercurrent of resentment.

King Siaosi Tupou V was going to have to be active and enlightened if the institution was to survive. Instead, he has committed an act so foolish that it bears comparison with some of the biggest political clangers of recent history.

In the immediate wake of the Tongan ferry tragedy, the Sandhurst-educated King chose to travel to the other side of the world to take the military salute at the Edinburgh Tattoo, as part of a holiday in Scotland. First and foremost, this suggested a contempt for ordinary Tongans and a lack of interest in the fate of those on board the Princess Ashika. It also vacated the stage for democracy activists, who were quick to highlight the ferry's poor condition.

Of such horrendous miscalculations are watersheds in history made. There are ready comparisons since the turn of the century. Take President George W. Bush's inept and unhurried response to Hurricane Katrina's devastation of New Orleans. Rather than visit the city in person, the President surveyed the damage from the window of Air Force One. He seemed distant from the suffering on the ground. It was the final nail in his presidency. As much as he swung into action for subsequent floods, wildfires and other crises, it held no sway with Americans. They had switched off President Bush.

Or take Russia's President Vladimir Putin. He, like the Tongan King, was not about to be torn away from a holiday, even as rescuers battled to save the doomed crew of the pride of his country's navy, the nuclear submarine Kursk, which had sunk in the Barents Sea. He later acknowledged that he felt "guilty" about this, and set about repairing his reputation by reacting urgently to other crises. In 2004, for example, he rushed back to Moscow from his Black Sea summer residence after rebels took children and adults hostage at a school in Beslan. Nonetheless, the Kursk tragedy had a significant impact. The public criticism of Mr Putin was pivotal in the development of a more open and democratic Russia. The Russian President survived because he could tap a substantial reservoir of public goodwill.

The same was true of the Queen, who was criticised widely when she chose to stay in isolation at her holiday residence at Balmoral after the death of Diana, the Princess of Wales. Belatedly, the royal family repaired much of the damage by returning to London and expressing its emotions in public.

The problem for Tonga's King is that he has little such reservoir of goodwill and respect upon which to draw. Twelve months ago, his position was tenuous. Violence, sparked by a democracy rally, had destroyed much of downtown Nuku'alofa soon after he came to the throne. His reign would stand or fall on his ability to steer a course that saw the prestige and position of the monarchy preserved even as it was ceding political power.

King Siaosi Tupou V started by making the right noises, including a statement committing himself to democracy. But the extravagance of his crowning did not suggest a man attuned to the poor circumstances of most of his subjects. His Scottish sojourn at a time of tragedy jars even more. Many Tongans undoubtedly have a residual affection for the monarchy as an institution. But on such watershed events do nations' histories turn.