Nae Liz the Twa, nae Lilibet the One
Nae Liz will ever dae
We’ll mak’ oor land Republican
In a Scottish breakaway

THE words of Morris Blythman (Thurso Berwick) have been running through my head all day, interrupted only by constant media coverage of the first day of the Platinum Jubilee celebrations.

A friend sends me a photo of Braemar town decked out with hundreds of Union Jack flags. I sigh. But thankfully, I’m in Glasgow and Orange Lodges and the Bristol Bar aside, the city seems to have made its views on the Jubilee clear, with no major event planned. During what felt like the thousandth hour of coverage, the BBC share a map of the beacon lighting locations – hundreds of yellow dots all over England and Northern Ireland with a sparse smattering in Scotland and Wales.

With only 100 events requiring road closures in Scotland, compared to the sixteen thousand in England, it’s clear that Scotland as a nation is not representative of the fierce Rangers supporting British flag-wielding loyalists that will inhabit the newly re-named “Queen Elizabeth Arms” over the weekend.

READ MORE: FACT CHECK: Does the monarchy really pay its way?

Even if there were events, I wouldn’t be in attendance. My only lived experience of the royal family was in the early 2000s when Princess Anne visited my primary school in a rurally deprived area. I didn’t really understand the intrigue of the royal family then, and I certainly don’t now. As a child many “grown-ups” would explain to me that the royals “do so much for the area”, but all I seem to see is a divided Aberdeenshire. There’s the Aberdeenshire of Royal Deeside and there’s the Aberdeenshire of Huntly – one with millionaires who sit as MSPs and one with food banks. Two very different socio-economic areas of the same council area, despite being only 40 miles apart.

The National:

It really is the normal working people who are fronting the cost of the Jubilee, with £28 million being fronted by the taxpayer – in my opinion, a total kick in the face to the millions of people who are facing poverty amid an unprecedented cost of living crisis.

Set against the backdrop of the war in Ukraine, the rising cost of living crisis and a UK Government embroiled in scandal, the pomp and pageantry of the publicly funded celebration has been used to distract us from the very real issues facing normal everyday working people.

READ MORE: The hidden story of the BBC's censored 'Royal Family' documentary

Whilst some may find it heartwarming to see the Queen engage playfully with her grandson Louis, many people living on the breadline, whose lives continue to be turned upside down by the pandemic, are simply focusing on living paycheque to paycheque. They simply don’t have anything to celebrate and a UK Government that scraps the £20 uplift in Universal Credit, but gladly spends millions on a Jubilee is the height of tone deafness.

The first event of the celebrations, the Trooping of the Colour felt every bit as archaic as the royal family themselves. And of course, there’s Prince Andrew, who conveniently tests positive for Covid hours before the grand family appearance on the balcony. A scandal covered up and protected by the institution, that solidifies my opinion that the royal family is not fit for purpose.

The National: Prince Andrew

With the Jubilee, comes the Queen’s Birthday Honours, where the media celebrates those of whom the institution deem worthy. Bestowing upon someone the title of “Member of the British Empire” gies me the dry boak for reasons I don’t have the time nor word count to get into.

Long story short, I reckon Queen Elizabeth should and will be the last monarch. Whilst she’s given us 70 years of service, nodding heids and shaking hauns, I just don’t think the royal family is fit for purpose going forward.

I think on my own beloved late grandmother, who was of equal age with the Queen.

READ MORE: Platinum Jubilee: What has the Queen said about Scottish independence?

Without fail, each Christmas, she would theatrically switch the television off before the Queen's speech. As a young child, I never quite understood her disdain for the royal family, but as a young adult, catapulted into a Brexit Britain where people must choose between eating and heating their homes, I understand all too well why my grandmother would avoid listening to the Queen address the nation from her palace each Christmas. There’s us and there’s them. And in a forward-thinking progressive independent Scotland, there is simply no space for them.