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The Royal Wedding was a smashing occasion; a time for the females of this country to live out (vicariously) their girlhood princess dreams; a time to gobble scones with jam and cream; a time to sip tea with one’s little finger extended. It was a time to giggle at Eugenie’s choice of hat and to speculate as to whether it was an octopus or a pair of reindeer antlers adorning the royal cranium.

For many, the wedding was a shameless indulgence in and celebration of all things English. But did it register in many of our decidedly non-royal craniums that it was our future king – not just Britain’s - being wed? If and when Wills becomes king, he will be King William of New Zealand, just as his grandma is Queen Elizabeth II of New Zealand. Most people seem to think that sounds splendid. He’s a good looking, charismatic sort, and he’s clearly got fabulous taste in women.

 
But others are not so sure. While Queen Elizabeth is doing remarkably well, at some point the mantle of responsibility will pass to her mildly annoying son, Charles, the Prince of Wales. When this fateful day comes to pass, will New Zealand still want to be a constitutional monarchy, or has the time come to cut the apron strings holding us to Mother England?

 
At the moment, the Queen is our Head of State. However, far from running the country, she plays only a ceremonial role in our day-to-day constitutional environment. She acts through the Governor-General, her New Zealand representative (currently Anand Satyanand, soon to be Jerry Mataparae). Both the Queen and Governor-General in turn do more or less whatever the Prime Minister tells them to, as long as the PM has the confidence of parliament.

 
Unlike the Governor-General and the PM, the Queen isn’t paid for her role. Sure, we put on some kai when she comes to visit, but she receives no personal salary from New Zealand, and no contribution to royal residences outside our shores. So it’s fair to say we don’t ask much of the Queen and she doesn’t ask much of us. Nevertheless, we get to call ourselves a Commonwealth realm (along with fifteen others, such as Canada, Australia, Jamaica, Papua New Guinea and Tuvalu), enjoy the wedding like it’s our own grandson tying the knot, and retain a sense of our forefathers’ nostalgia for the homeland.
 

For some people though, the monarchy’s role in New Zealand is an outdated and unnecessary sham. Organisations such as the Republic Movement of Aotearoa New Zealand, a self-described “non-partisan group, with members drawn from all walks of life, and all sides of the political spectrum” are campaigning for a New Zealand Republic. Not so crass as to want to kick Queen Liz off her jewelled perch right away, they are doing so on the basis of constitutional change upon her death. So what would it mean for us to become a republic, and how would we get there?

 
My BFF, Wikipedia, tells me that a republic is “a form of government in which the people, or some significant portion of them, retain supreme control over the government…[a] monarchy is today generally considered to be incompatible with being a republic”. In general then, to lapse into legalese, in a republic the power of the executive and legislative branches of government is controlled ultimately by the people, through democratic elections. That power is legitimised by what is usually a written constitution (though that’s not essential) and the right of all citizens to vote. In this sense, NZ is already a de facto republic.

 
But the plot thickens: there are several kinds of republic. Parliamentary republics, such as Poland, Pakistan and Portugal, have a PM who has the support of Parliament, and a head of state appointed by the PM. This is essentially the position in New Zealand, if you consider that the Governor-General and the Queen don’t play active constitutional roles, and act on the PM’s advice. Presidential republics, such as Chile, Colombia and Comoros, have a president who is Head of State and the executive, but remains in office independently of the legislature. The paradigm case of that – and its political intricacies - is of course the USA. Some countries have other variations on those two models, but lest I start sounding like a Public Law lecturer, let’s move on to what this means for Aotearoa.
 

Once upon a time, there were many more constitutional monarchies under the wing of the British monarchy. But, one by one, many have dropped off and become republics. If this is what New Zealand’s planning on doing, we should learn from our commonwealth cousins: Ireland passed an Act of Parliament (and became a Republic in 1949), Ghana held a referendum, Trinidad and Tobago wrote it into their constitution, and Fiji underwent a military coup. Don’t get me wrong, military coups are exciting, but following in Fiji’s footsteps seems particularly unlikely given that our armed forces are more peacekeeper than pugilist.

 
Actually, it’s likely to be a combination of approaches. While technically parliament could abolish the monarchy with a simple majority tomorrow, that’s fairly unlikely to happen. Instead, if the government felt the time was right, they would set up a public referendum. This would ensure that at least a majority of New Zealanders would be ready to sever ties with Britain. Framing the question to be put to a referendum would no doubt take many hours and cause a plethora of ministerial headaches, but ultimately it might be something like "When the Queen dies, which option would you prefer: Prince Charles becoming King of New Zealand or New Zealand to becoming a republic?"

 
The answer might seem like a simple choice between two alternatives but it would open a veritable Pandora’s box, says Professor John Dawson, of Otago’s Faculty of Law. While it could be as simple as the Crown signing over its rights and obligations to the State of New Zealand, and essentially retaining the political status quo, this change is likely to spark debate about a whole lot of others.
 

For starters, the Treaty of Waitangi is a partnership that was signed by representatives of New Zealand’s Maori population, and representatives of the British Crown. Take away a Treaty partner, and you might cause some serious disruption. Maori, as Treaty signatories, would probably want (with good reason) a chance for special consultation over and above the public referendum process. That in turn could set a precedent for separate Maori/State dialogue that many conservative New Zealanders wouldn’t like. The question of whether New Zealand should have an entrenched constitution, and what place the Treaty might have in that, would inevitably be raised.
 

In short, says Dawson, it could cause a lot of strife, disagreement and division among New Zealanders. And for what? As it is, New Zealand is a de facto republic, as the monarch’s role is more or less symbolic. A move to republicanism would be unlikely to change a lot, and the process of getting there simply may not be worth the trouble.

 
And let’s not forget there’s something a bit special about the Royal Family. Nicholas Darlington, a London-based journalist says: “there aren’t many certain things in this world…but if there is a certainty, it is that the British people love their monarchy.” And deep down, New Zealanders do too. There’s also something special about having a politically-neutral head of atate, who is not democratically elected or appointed by the Prime Minister. All Commonwealth citizens, of whichever political persuasion, can join in celebrating events like William’s wedding. On the other hand, countries like America, even with such an excellent and inspiring head of state as Barack Obama, can never enjoy celebrations in such a bipartisan manner.

 
While the monarchy acts as a sort of umbilical cord between New Zealand and Britain, its cutting might not have too many ramifications for inter-country relations. “It would weaken the ties between Britain and New Zealand,” says Darlington, “but only on a very ephemeral level because there are [still] enormous cultural ties.” On a practical level, he says, any trading agreements would remain unchanged as they are all effected through the European Union rather than bilaterally.
 

One point of difference is that perhaps New Zealand would feel “less obliged to help out” where Britain becomes involved in international conflict. However, that issue also raises the question of what New Zealand has already contributed to Britain in times of war. New Zealand has surviving World War II veterans who gave up a significant portion of their lives to fighting “For King and Country”, and had countless friends who died in the same pursuit. It would be disrespectful, says Dawson, to renounce the monarchy while these soldiers live.
 

There are those who think the status quo is far from satisfactory. One of the key pro-republican arguments is that Queen Elizabeth II isn’t a New Zealander, and under our citizenship law couldn’t be one if she applied (without living here for a minimum of five years, that is). We are an independent country, not some Southern Hemisphere British outpost, and we should have a New Zealander as our Head of State. As Helen Hope wrote in her 1995 LLB(Hons) dissertation on the subject, “[the queen’s] presence is an affront to our nationalist spirit and our reputation as a democratic nation.” Bob Jones, New Zealand businessman and writer, agrees: “the British monarchy is no longer appropriate in a country with such a broad range of cultures and races.”
 

Those arguments are compelling. But, arguably, since abolishing the monarchy would have little impact on the way New Zealand is run now – and since our Governor-General, the Queen’s representative is a New Zealander – it seems that opening the constitutional can of worms labelled “Republic?” might not be worth the controversy.