British Friends: I may be the only American ever to offer this apology, but it needs to be said.
We Americans have many valiant qualities, but our track record of marrying into your Royal Family has been abysmal.
Harry and Meghan’s four-day fantasy royal tour of Australia last week is the latest proof. The Sussexes landed in Melbourne on a commercial Qantas flight on Tuesday.
They went straight to the Royal Children’s Hospital and a women’s shelter. There was a huge backlash on social media, with critics noting the disgraceful optics of “exploiting” the vulnerable as backdrops for their optics.
Police in Victoria and New South Wales provided security. The couple insists the visit is privately funded. The schedule says otherwise.
Two private individuals, representing no institution but themselves, staged events mirroring the working-royal formula they rejected in 2020.
This is not their first such performance. It is one of many. Previous fantasy royal tours to Colombia and Nigeria saw the Sussexes cosplay as royals in good standing, with official-style engagements and staged humanitarian moments.
Some of those locations are perilous. That fact exposes the hypocrisy of a security-obsessed Harry who has declared Britain unsafe for his family and demanded taxpayer-funded protection.
The 2018 official tour drew genuine crowds because they then spoke for the Crown. These later excursions draw thinner crowds and sharper scrutiny.
One local told the Herald Sun she would line the streets for the Prince and Princess of Wales but not for Harry and Meghan.
A petition opposing taxpayer involvement gathered tens of thousands of signatures. Criticism crossed Australia’s political divide.
Hospital visits sit alongside commercial engagements. Harry speaks at a leadership summit.
Meghan headlines the “Her Best Life” retreat in Sydney, with tickets in the hundreds and premium packages higher. The humanitarian optics are the draw. The monetised access is the point.
I may be the first American to publicly apologise for Meghan Markle, but this needs to be said - Lee Cohen | Getty Images
Contrast this with the compact struck with the late Queen Elizabeth in 2020. They stepped back as working royals. They agreed to stop using HRH.
They kept their ducal titles. The understanding was clear: financial independence without trading on the royal connection. That understanding has been shredded. They retained the titles that confer prestige. They use them. They sell them.
Every staged walkabout, every paid appearance, every Netflix grievance recycles the aura they claim to have escaped.
The monarchy draws strength from service without commerce, duty without ticket prices. The Sussexes demand the platform without discipline, the visibility without obligation, the status without restraint.
Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson offer the nearest historical parallel. The American divorcee triggered a constitutional crisis in 1936.
The King abdicated. Britain paid a heavy price. The former king was stripped of status, exiled, and reduced to international society and minor scraps.
They caused damage but largely faded from view. They did not write books lacerating the family. They did not sign media deals, recycling grievances. They did not tour former realms while insisting they had left duty behind.
Harry and Meghan have refused to withdraw. That makes them worse. They weaponised the step-back. They kept the titles. They kept the platform.
They kept the resentment. Six years on, they stage fantasy royal tours borrowing the rituals of the institution they savaged in interviews, a memoir, and a documentary. They lecture on compassion while monetising the prestige they accuse of cruelty.
They claim victimhood and charge admission. The late Queen crafted the 2020 agreement to shield the Crown. Harry and Meghan accepted the terms when it suited them. They have ignored them ever since.
Working royals conduct hospital visits every week. They focus on the patients. They accept discipline without turning it into content.
The Sussexes perform the same rituals while selling adjacent experiences. The distinction is glaring. Australians and the world have noticed.
Commentators from every quarter have questioned the purpose and cost. The King continues the Crown’s work without admission charges or celebrity handlers.
The Sussexes project relevance they no longer possess. They left the roster yet tour like royals. They rejected the constraints yet traded on the prestige. The contradiction makes the exercise cringeworthy.
The damage is cumulative. Each dress-up tour erodes the separation between service and commerce. Each paid appearance reminds the public that the Sussexes want royal benefits without burdens. The late Queen understood the danger.
Many Britons understand it still. The Sussexes do not. They refuse to fade. They refuse to honour the bargain struck with the sovereign who welcomed Meghan with a glittering wedding and taxpayer-funded residence.
Instead, they commercialise the connection they disowned. That refusal to disappear, that determination to harm the institution while profiting from its aura, elevates them in shame beyond even Edward and Wallis. It makes them the most contemptible public figures of our times.
The monarchy will outlast them. Britain will outlast them. But the memory of these calculated spectacles will remain as proof of how completely they failed to step aside with dignity.