Blues and the royals

Over the centuries, the British royal family have been many things: conquerors, vanquishers, tyrants and buffoons. They have been denied their destiny, gone mad with grief, been exalted and even exiled. They have been beheaded, beholden, belligerent and benevolent, but until now they have never really been victims. And certainly not self-identifying victims.

Yet the cult of victimhood has engulfed the royal battlements like a poisoned ivy. It has curled into ducal nook and princessy psyche, and it has turned some of the most privileged people on the planet into a whiny bunch.

Recently, we have discovered the following. The Duke of Cambridge struggled in his role as air ambulance pilot because he saw some bad things. The Duchess of Cambridge finds being a mother a ‘huge challenge’ that leaves her with a ‘lack of confidence’. The Duke of Sussex has suffered from anxiety, stress and depression, which made him do silly things like wear a Nazi uniform to a party. Meanwhile, friends of the Duchess of Sussex have complained to an American magazine on her behalf regarding the unsupportive antics of her father, Thomas Markle, and ‘global bullying’, whatever that might be. The way they go on! It is becoming clear that these younger-generation royals see themselves as underdogs, accursed, possibly even damned by birthright.

Of course everyone has doubts and worries, even royal personages. That is part of the human condition, the cheerless grind that shadows the painted merry-go-round — but when did key members of the House of Windsor decide to present themselves as victims instead of victors in life’s lottery?

Perhaps we can trace it back to when William, Harry and Kate launched the mental health charity Heads Together in 2016, in a bid to end the stigma around mental health issues. No one could argue with their good intent, but all too soon a new narrative developed: a very public conflation between helping those who suffered and the royals suffering themselves.