The Royal Family must not capitulate to Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's stunning betrayal - Lee Cohen

Yet, reports this week of a so-called “peace summit” between Palace aides and representatives of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex—if true—are alarming.

If the Royal Family, in a misguided bid for reconciliation, forgives the Sussexes’ litany of disgraceful acts and shameful attacks, it risks squandering the very respect that has sustained it for centuries. Even the monarchy’s staunchest supporters around the globe would struggle to defend an institution that kneels to such betrayal.

The notion of a “peace summit” is itself an affront. The very term suggests a negotiation between equals, as if the Sussexes’ grievances carry the same weight as the monarchy’s centuries of service.

This is not a diplomatic crisis between nations; it is a family schism rooted in ingratitude and hubris. The Palace’s willingness to entertain such talks signals a dangerous weakness.

The Royal Family has already extended olive branches—welcoming Meghan into its ranks, granting the couple unprecedented freedoms, and even allowing them to retain their titles despite their abandonment of duties. Each gesture was met with further betrayal.

To now seek “peace” with those who have shown no remorse is to invite more of the same. The Sussexes have made their choice: they have chosen exile, fame, and fortune over loyalty. The Palace must not chase after them, cap in hand, begging for reconciliation.

Let’s be clear-eyed about the Sussexes’ conduct. Since their dramatic exit from royal duties in 2020, Harry and Meghan have waged a relentless campaign of self-aggrandisement at the expense of the monarchy’s dignity.

Their Oprah interview in 2021 was a circus of calculated venom, levelling accusations of racism and neglect against an institution that had bent over backwards to accommodate their whims.

The claim that an unnamed royal speculated about their unborn child’s skin colour was a cynical ploy to inflame racial tensions for personal gain.

No evidence was provided, no names given—just a vague, corrosive smear designed to wound. Their subsequent Netflix series and Harry’s memoir *Spare* doubled down, painting the Royal Family as cold, scheming oppressors while casting themselves as enlightened victims.

This is not the behaviour of prodigal sons seeking redemption; it is the work of self-possessed opportunists who have traded loyalty for headlines and duty for dollars.

The Sussexes’ attacks are not mere personal grievances aired in a moment of weakness. They are a sustained assault on the monarchy’s moral authority.

By weaponising their proximity to the Crown for commercial gain, they have, until now, tried but failed to cheapen the institution’s reputation. Their Montecito mansion, funded by Netflix deals and Spotify contracts, stands as a garish monument to their rejection of service in favour of self-promotion.

Harry’s public airing of private family conversations—whether about his brother’s alleged jealousy or his father’s supposed aloofness—reveals a man unmoored from the values of discretion and duty that define the monarchy.

Meghan, meanwhile, cloaks her ambition in the language of compassion, peddling a brand of faux-progressivism that masks her contempt for the institution that elevated her. To forgive such behaviour would be to reward treachery.

For those of us around the world who cherish the monarchy, the stakes could not be higher. The institution’s power lies not in wealth or political influence but in its ability to inspire reverence. That reverence is hard-won, built on the sacrifices of figures like the late Queen Elizabeth II, who embodied duty until her final days.

To forgive the Sussexes’ transgressions would be to signal that such sacrifices are negotiable, that the monarchy can be battered into submission by petulant defectors. It would alienate the millions—British and otherwise—who see the Crown as a bulwark against the chaos of modernity.

As an American, I have no skin in the game of British politics, yet I have always admired the monarchy’s ability to focus the nation on its heritage and transcend partisan divides. If it capitulates now, it risks becoming just another celebrity circus, stripped of its moral weight.

The Sussexes’ defenders will argue that reconciliation is the Christian thing to do, that families must heal. But forgiveness without accountability is not healing; it is surrender.

The monarchy is not a private family; it is a public institution, and its actions carry symbolic weight. To welcome Harry and Meghan back without contrition would be to endorse their narrative of victimhood and embolden others to exploit the Crown’s goodwill.

The Palace must hold the line, not for spite but for survival. It must show that disloyalty has consequences, that the institution is bigger than any one individual, even a prince. 

The alternative is grim. A monarchy that bends to the Sussexes’ demands risks losing the respect of its most ardent supporters. Our great admiration for the Royal Family would be shaken to the core if it sacrifices its principles on the altar of appeasement.

The world is watching, and the message must be clear: the monarchy endures not because it is soft but because it is strong. Let the Sussexes stew in their self-made exile. The Crown has weathered worse storms than this, and it must not falter now.