If a visitor to my house suggested they had been abused and verbally attacked when they came to tea, I probably wouldn’t be in a particular hurry to invite them round again for nibbles. If that person had subsequently caused a very public stink and embarrassed and humiliated a valued family friend of extremely long standing, I would most definitely give them up as a bad idea. I certainly wouldn’t invite them for ‘talks’.
But this is pretty much the approach taken by the King and Queen Consort to Ngozi Fulani, the domestic abuse campaigner who says she was asked repeatedly where she was ‘really’ from when she visited Buckingham Palace last week. Now the Royals have ‘reached out to Ngozi Fulani on this matter’ – which is a bit like checking to see if a grenade went off by giving it a good old shake.
This is perhaps the model example of a peculiar phenomenon I’ve noticed over the last few years: of privileged people cringing before their detractors, and often doing so in a highly cringe-inducing way.
There is no class hatred in Britain more virulent than that of the minor public school boy for the major public school boy
Should Charles and Camilla indulge someone like Fulani, whose various appearances in the media resulted in the brutal ousting of Lady
Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in