When the heir and the spare don’t care for each other
The fraternal feud between Harry and William is damaging the monarchy. But it’s going to sell a lot of books
Our fascination with sibling rivalry and resentment over the right of the first-born to succeed wends its way through ancient myth and legend. For every Old Testament Cain that murders Abel, there is a Jacob who outwits a slow-witted, elder brother Esau to win his father's inheritance.
These archetypes are no less potent today. The runaway success of the HBO series Succession about the Roy family children who plot for primacy in their father Logan's media empire is built upon it. And real life imitates art. In 2010, the UK's voters were transfixed by the contest of the two Miliband brothers for the leadership of the Labour party. The elder party princeling, David, assumed the prize was his until his younger sibling Ed unexpectedly challenged him and won. During a lunch I had with the loser the week following his defeat, David picked up my copy of The Guardian, which had backed his brother, and hurled it to the floor in derision. Shortly after, he left the UK for exile in New York and refused to speak to his brother for many months after.
With the publication this week of his autobiography, Spare, and lengthy interviews on British and American network television, Prince Harry has skillfully directed and produced his own melodrama. Lacerating detail of his quarrels with William, Prince of Wales, will guarantee the warring brothers a place in history. For this story has real resonance. Around the world, every less-than-perfect family — which is to say all families — can relate. But the stakes are smaller for the rest of us: The aggrieved parties don't get time with Oprah Winfrey.
In small ways and large, Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex and the second son of King Charles, has often been made to feel second-best by Buckingham Palace. Now he has his revenge by publishing a tell-all autobiography, ghosted by an accomplished US writer.
In small ways and large, Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex and the second son of King Charles, has often been made to feel second-best by Buckingham Palace. Now he has his revenge by publishing a tell-all autobiography, ghosted by an accomplished US writer. The title comes from a joke Charles told his mother Princess Diana at Harry's birth; His job was done because he now had "an heir and spare."
British tabloid newspapers have already pilloried Harry for betraying the family's secrets, while publishing every last piece of juicy gossip. The indiscreet and lurid material pirated from early sightings of the book will amplify enormous advance sales and worldwide exposure.
Commentators have often lightheartedly referred to "the Royal Soap Opera" but this is the primetime version. Harry tells us how he scuffled with William and was thrown to the floor onto a dogbowl that broke and injured his back. We learn about how the prince lost his virginity to an older woman in a field behind a bar. He snorts cocaine, takes magic mushrooms and smokes marijuana. To the dismay of former army comrades the Duke of Sussex also recounts his tally of 25 Taliban fighters, dispatched from an Apache helicopter while on patrol in Afghanistan. Harry says he felt nothing at the time — they were like "chess pieces" removed from the board. Boasting of the number of Taliban he helped to kill will hardly enhance his personal security.
The Duke scores some shrewd hits when he condemns the infernal pact between Buckingham Palace and the top tabloids. In fact, he accuses his family of throwing his wife Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, to the wolves in order to improve their own personal press coverage.
His brother and father have refused to respond in kind. King Charles is hardly in a position to rebuke his younger son for "letting daylight in on magic" — which would ruin the enchantment of the monarchy, as Walter Bagehot warned in the 19th century. As Prince of Wales, Charles cooperated in a biography and television interview in which he confessed that his marriage had never been a true love match. His wife, Diana retaliated in kind, singling out his mistress Camilla Parker-Bowles, now the King's wife, for being "the third person" in their marriage.
The King got off lightly in his son's interview with ITV's Tom Bradby on Sunday night: his parenting skills were gently mocked, but the affection of the son for his father also shone through. For all the alleged froideur of stuffy British royals, Harry gave him credit for apologizing for not giving him the therapy he so obviously required after the death of his mother.
The real venom is reserved for his brother whom he accuses of "parroting" the Fleet Street newspaper line about Meghan's alleged high-handed ways. No one can judge the veracity of claims about incidents that took place behind closed palace doors, but something went badly wrong in an already competitive relationship. Fights between boys are commonplace but for two adults to row about whether Harry's beard should be shaved off for his wedding day seems absurd, if not pathetic.
William and his wife Kate clearly didn't bond with Meghan from the start. Nothing unusual in that, but Harry claims that they were suspicious of his wife because she was a divorcee, biracial and an actress. Afterwards, they couldn't stop squabbling even at the funeral of their grandfather Philip. Charles, we learn, was forced to beg them: "Please boys, don't make my final years a misery." His wish may not be granted.
Reconciliation with estranged relatives is Harry's declared goal, but it's hard to think he is going about it the right way. I expect his father will invite him to his coronation in a non-official capacity. Even so, the estranged Duke's war on the institutional bureaucracy of the Royal Firm will continue. But if it is as rotten to the core as he suggests, why does he still hang on to his title?
Harry is asked that question by Anderson Cooper in the 60 Minutes interview in the US. The prince's response: "And what difference would that make?"
It would be wiser to cut his official links to the Palace while salvaging something from the wreckage of his private relationship with his brother. But possibly, Harry just likes being royal because he is used to it and it suits him and his wife. There is the paradox of the tale: The man who has rocked the monarchy by storming out of it, somehow can't let the old firm go.
Martin Ivens is the editor of the Times Literary Supplement.
Disclaimer: This opinion first appeared on Bloomberg, and is published by special syndication arrangement.