There is a look of utter desolation on Prince Harry‘s face as he delivers his latest bombshell interview. Desolation, interspersed with barely contained rage. He seems to veer between wanting to punch someone – and bursting into tears.
It’s clear that we are meant to feel desperately sorry for him, poor lamb. He obviously feels desperately sorry for himself, at any rate. The self-pity is palpable, together with the paranoia.
Everything is everyone else’s fault. He and his family are victims of a massive conspiracy, perpetuated by an evil and, by the sounds of it, utterly ruthless organisation called ‘the Royal Household’.
He mentions it repeatedly, obsessively. It’s never entirely clear who makes up the members of this shadowy cabal, but they seem to sit somewhere between Mossad and the Mafia in their modus operandi. Either way, they have been out to get him for years, even before he and the Duchess of Sussex decided to break free from the icy clutches of the Monarchy.
‘There is a look of utter desolation on Prince Harry ‘s face as he delivers his latest bombshell interview,’ writes Sarah Vine
‘If Harry were to offer a genuine olive branch – one not dripping in poison – I’m certain the King (pictured) would accept with relief’
‘They’ are trying to kill him by removing his police protection. ‘They’ have ‘won in keeping me unsafe’. ‘They’ want to hurt his family by deliberately exposing them to danger. ‘They’ maliciously downgraded the threat level against him overnight, to punish him and the Duchess for not submitting to their intolerable demands (such as expecting them to live in that humble little cottage on the Windsor Estate, or not letting poor Meghan use the tiara she wanted).
‘They’ use ‘security’ to control not just him, but other members of his family – again, unspecified – and stop them from running away like he did. The implication being that the Monarchy is some sort of Royal version of the Moonies, a cult from which no one can ever escape, on pain of having their motorcycle outriders removed.
On and on it goes, an endless litany of perceived injustices. His face as he stares into the middle distance, lost in his own misery, is at times startlingly reminiscent of his mother’s, when she gave that ill-fated Martin Bashir interview.
‘I don’t want history to repeat itself,’ he says darkly, clearly referencing her tragic death – but conveniently forgetting to mention that the whole reason Princess Diana ended up in the back of a speeding car with a drunk driver at the wheel was because she had dismissed her own security detail over worries that ‘they’ were spying on her.
He says: ‘Through the [court] process, I have discovered that some people want history to repeat itself’, adding with a petulant grimace, ‘I’m sure that some people out there, probably most likely the people that wish me harm, consider this a huge win.’
It was at this point in the interview, I’m afraid, that I wanted to grab him firmly by his expensive lapels and say, ‘Oh for Christ’s sake, Harry, lighten up, will you?’
Of course no one wants history to repeat itself, that’s frankly absurd. Just because people have criticised your behaviour, or have felt upset about some of the things you’ve said and done does not mean they want you dead. You’re a grown man: stop being such a petulant child.
But also: you live in California; you have a beautiful mansion in Montecito; you’ve got a beautiful wife who never stops going on about how unbelievably super-hot and sexy you are; you have two healthy children; you have a large inheritance; hell, you even have some of your own hair left, which is more than can be said for your poor brother.
More than that: your beautiful wife hasn’t just had cancer; you haven’t had to face the prospect of losing the mother of your babies. You don’t have cancer. Seriously man, why don’t you just count your blessings?
‘The people I feel really sorry for in all this are the Sussex children. I wonder what they will make of all this when they realise they have been denied their birthright and the love of their wider family because of the actions of their own father.’ Pictures: Meghan and Harry with baby Archie in 2019.
How about you try enjoying your charmed life for half a minute? Get over yourself. Stop looking over your shoulder and raking over the past and fix your gaze on the future, and what that might hold. Help yourself to another dollop of the Mrs’s jam, sprinkle a few extra dried flowers on your pancakes, wake up and smell the organic matcha chai oat latte. You live a life that 99.9 per cent of the planet can only dream of. The least you can do is try to enjoy it.
After all, wasn’t that the whole point of this process? Isn’t that why you left Britain in the first place? To get away from all those generational obligations, to escape the dead hand of tradition, to explore new horizons?
Not to stay trapped in this hell of your own making, endlessly picking away at the same scab.
It’s terribly sad, really. He’s stuck. He ran away to escape the trauma of his difficult childhood, his troubled relationship with his father and stepmother, his loathing of the Press – and it’s all just come clattering along behind him. He’s living proof that happiness is not to be found in a place or another person, but within yourself. It doesn’t matter where Harry goes: until he vanquishes his demons, they will always follow him. If it wasn’t this security issue driving him to distraction, it would be something else.
‘Harry has backed himself into a corner and now has no choice but to defend it.’ Pictured: King Charles and son Harry in 2019
But there’s also a good reason he wants to be the victim, the wronged one, the righteous outsider. It exonerates him of all responsibility for this gigantic mess he’s got himself into. It’s certainly so much easier than confronting the truth, which is glaringly obvious to most intelligent observers: he’s made a terrible mistake, which he now regrets.
He almost says as much, when he talks, rather airily, about seeking ‘truth and reconciliation’ and being willing (very generously, I’m sure we can all agree) to ‘forgive my family’s involvement’ (meaning King Charles and the Queen and his brother, Prince William), in ‘events’.
But as ever, with Harry, he can’t resist the temptation to gaslight the very people he needs to win over. His lack of self-awareness and general narcissism – which, increasingly, has begun to rival that of his uncle Andrew – prevents him from having the emotional maturity to make the necessary compromises. He’s backed himself into a corner and now has no choice but to defend it.
I have no insight into the King’s thinking on this latest outburst. But I do know that he is generally deeply saddened by the situation. If Harry were to offer a genuine olive branch – one not dripping in poison – I’m certain he would accept with relief. For now, he has no choice but to keep his distance.
The people I feel really sorry for in all this are the Sussex children. I wonder what they will make of all this when, in 15 or 20 years’ time, they realise they have been denied their birthright and the love of their wider family because of the actions of their own father. By dwelling so obsessively on the past, Harry is only storing up more pain for the future.
