Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Baroness Prashar Excerpts

Saturday 10th September 2022 Lords Chamber

[Lord Stephen (LD)]

My Lords, it is impossible to do justice to such an amazing and astonishing person and such an amazing and astonishing life. I am also conscious of the hour, so I will keep my reflections light but give some memories from Scotland, Royal Deeside and Balmoral.

I was once the Member of Parliament for Balmoral, but my reflections go much further back and my memories start much earlier. I used to stand each year in the village of Bieldside, which is at the beginning of the journey up to Balmoral Castle, with my grandmother and mother. We knew this spot where the Queen’s car—one of the high-top cars with lots of glass—would slow down because the Queen knew there was a particularly beautiful garden there, and she would ask the driver to stop to have a look at it. We would stand there and she would give us her big smile, which has been mentioned a lot, and the kind of wave that I had never experienced before in my life as a young child.

We did that every year, until one year she slowed down and the beautiful garden had been completely removed and replaced with climbing frames and swings, because a young family had moved into the area. Sadly, her habit of slowing down stopped after that. She would continue on that journey up to the castle, and I think everyone knows just how much she was loved and respected in Ballater, Braemar and the village of Crathie. All the talk in my early years was about the possibility of bumping into the Queen or another member of the Royal Family in a shop or on a country walk, and just how important it was to respect them and allow them to have as close to a normal life as possible when they came, at this time of year, to Royal Deeside.

Fast-forward to the State Opening of the new Scottish Parliament, where I was one of the new Members. It is important to remember that the Queen played a very positive and central role in the early days of the Parliament and its establishment. After the ceremony, my two year-old daughter Mirrhyn was the first to go down the steps of the new Chamber and to sit on the Queen’s chair. We told her that it was a throne, but in truth it was the best-looking chair that parliamentary officials could find for that day.

When we went outside for the fly-past from Concorde and the Red Arrows, my daughter was still very excited by it all and insisted on knowing which of the dignitaries was the Queen. She was too young to recognise her, and nobody was wearing a crown that day. We said, “Can you see David up there in the Royal box—David who was feeding you crisps in our dining room the other week?” This David was Lord Steel of Aikwood, the new Presiding Officer of the Scottish Parliament. She said, “Yeah, I can see him, dad.” We told her, “Well, the Queen is the lady sitting next to David.” Of course, David liked this story a lot and dined out on it for quite some time. He even managed to tell the Queen the story. He confirmed that she laughed a lot when she heard it.

I saw the Queen at so many sombre occasions, very often in churches or at official ceremonies. I remember being quite nervous and intimidated when I was asked to be Minister in attendance at one of her Holyrood garden parties. My wife was standing in the tea and cucumber sandwiches tent with the Countess of Airlie, the Queen’s very good friend and one of her most senior ladies-in-waiting, when up to the two of them came the Earl of Airlie, who accidentally knocked my wife’s hat clean off. When this story was duly recounted to the Queen, she laughed out loud and gently scolded the Earl with the biggest of smiles. It was a different side—something lighter and closer to normality in a life less normal.

Of course, in this place it was the exact opposite. Here in front of us, the Queen’s Speech, the Crown, the orb, the sceptre, Black Rod marching on her no, through to summon the Members of Parliament—there is nothing normal in any of this; it is pomp and ceremony at its peak. However, even on these grand and sparkling occasions, there were insights. The Queen and Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh, were determined in their 90s to walk up the staircase from their ceremonial carriage to the Royal Gallery, under the glare of television cameras and completely unaided, and then into the Robing Room, which always looks so immaculate—except, you work out, when the Queen is there. All those tables and chairs from the Royal Gallery are piled high and it looks cluttered and chaotic, like backstage at a theatre.

Then there is that classic story about the Queen and Prince Philip leaving in the lift with Black Rod. He pressed the button to go down to the ceremonial carriages and instead the lift went up to the second floor. When the doors opened, there was a young lad with his paper cup of canteen coffee, waiting to step into a lift which he quickly realised contained Black Rod, Prince Philip and the Queen. I suspect that in the midst of Black Rod’s huge embarrassment, she was stifling mischievous laughter.

She was the quintessential Queen, unquestionably, the like of which we will never see again. Tomorrow, her journey through Bieldside will not be to Balmoral. Instead, she will go slowly in the opposite direction. Hundreds will stand there in sombre sadness but also in a show of their love. May she rest in peace.

[Baroness Prashar (CB)]

My Lords, in our beloved Queen we have lost the mother of our nation and the mother of the Commonwealth. When we lose someone so reassuring and constantly present in our lives, we lose a part of ourselves, but in the words of Rabindranath Tagore:

“We should not say in grief that she is no more but say in thankfulness that she was.”


I say in thankfulness that she was.

I had the privilege of meeting Her Majesty on several occasions in my career. She was a constant in my life from my childhood. I was born in Kenya, where Her Majesty came as a Princess in 1952 and left as our Queen. I have vivid memories of the celebrations in Kenya for her Coronation, and of receiving a red mug with her image on it. Little did I know then that I would have the privilege of some very close and memorable encounters with Her Majesty, and that she would become an inspiration from whom I would learn so much just by observing her in action.

My first encounter with Her Majesty was in the late 1980s, when I was the director of the National Council for Voluntary Organisations and she was its royal patron. Her Majesty graced NCVO’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations and won over everyone with her formidable charisma, her infectious smile, her knowledge and her warmth. She left an indelible impression on me. Her Majesty’s support and service for the UK’s voluntary sector throughout her lifetime was phenomenal and she was much revered and loved by all in civil society.

My second encounter was when I was chair of the Royal Commonwealth Society, the oldest Commonwealth non-governmental organisation, in whose work Her Majesty took a personal and keen interest. In 2007, she opened the extension to the RCS’s premises. As we have heard, the Commonwealth was very close to her heart. It is no exaggeration to say that the Commonwealth has been held together by her personality. Her political skills, and belief in justice and democracy, helped create the modern Commonwealth. Her Majesty was far ahead of her time when, in 1953, she articulated a forward-looking vision of the Commonwealth and said:

“The Commonwealth bears no resemblance to the empires of the past. It is entirely a new conception, built on highest qualities of the spirit of man: friendship, loyalty and the desire for freedom and peace.”


I am sorry to say that seven decades on some people still do not comprehend that new conception. The genuineness with which Her Majesty related to the leaders of the Commonwealth, even in the face of the most extraordinary challenges, such as apartheid, speaks volumes about the success of the Commonwealth under her leadership.