Prince Harry's new documentary series, 'Heart of Invictus', goes behind the games and the stories of the competitors. Photo / Getty Images
A week ago, our daughter got married. It was a glorious day filled with love, friends and family. We were all there because of shared roots: through bloodlines, friendships or community. We belonged together, and it felt good.
From time immemorial, the human race has been tribal. Each family tree has roots, giving stability and context as the tribe expands. Sometimes the tree rocks in the wind, but the roots hold it steady and – most of the time – it survives. Tearing yourself away from those roots can be risky. But Prince Harry has, it seems, ripped them up once and for all.
Almost one year on from the funeral of his grandmother, the late Queen Elizabeth II, his estrangement from his entire UK family seems complete. He will be in London next month for a charity awards ceremony on the eve of the anniversary of her death, but it is understood he has no plans to see his father, the King, or his brother Prince William. Instead, he will head straight off to Dusseldorf for the opening of the Invictus Games for wounded servicemen and women, which he founded nine years ago.
I find it almost unbelievable that three men who have been through so much together cannot find a way forward. But it looks increasingly unlikely. Harry has made it clear that he wants a family, “not an institution”, and he now regards the United States as home.
He has planted his own sapling 5,000 miles away in California. His children, Archie and Lilibet, are putting down American roots and will be the first branches of a new tree. But with their mother, Meghan, bitterly estranged from almost the whole of her own family (except for her mother and a niece), that tree looks decidedly sparse.
But can you easily thrive in self-imposed exile from all you have known since birth?
And how much harder must it be when you are part of one of the most exclusive and mysterious tribes on earth: a royal family, steeped in a thousand years of history? Their lives and the pressures on them are a closed book to the rest of us. You would think that only Harry’s own family could possibly truly understand how he feels and provide an effective support network to help him through his evident trauma. But he has cast them aside, accused them of multiple grievances and repeatedly insulted them on a global platform.
It’s more than three years since the couple decided to “step back” from their lives as senior royals. And it’s a year since they were here together for the Queen’s funeral. They were in the UK for a fleeting visit to the same charity event Harry is attending this year when they found themselves caught up in the drama of Queen Elizabeth II’s death.
Harry has since said his family’s reaction to both Meghan and himself during that period of mourning was “horrible”. He was outraged his father asked him not to take Meghan with him to Balmoral (even though Catherine wasn’t going with William either). Harry was the last to arrive at the castle, having had to make his own way there, and the first to leave the next morning – again travelling alone. It seems he had little, if any, time with Charles and William as they were not staying at the castle, but at nearby Birkhall.
In his no-holds-barred memoir, Harry confirmed that, at the funeral, he and William had “barely exchanged a word”. Nevertheless, he writes that at the burial in St George’s Chapel in Windsor, he had thought of all the big occasions he’d experienced under that roof: the Duke of Edinburgh’s farewell, his own wedding.
“Even the ordinary times, simple Easter Sundays, felt especially poignant, the whole family, alive and together. Suddenly I was wiping my eyes.”
Evidently, then, family does matter to Harry. So how is he coping without it?
An expert in the field of human development, Professor Karl Pillemer, from Cornell University in New York, believes the emotional impact must be enormous.
“Whether you have originated the estrangement, or you’re on the receiving end of it, people often feel betrayed, rejected, hurt, angry and resentful,” Pillemer says. “They feel the pain of broken attachment. We have strong biologically-based attachment responses – those don’t just go away.”
Harry evidently felt the pull of those family attachments at the coronation. He wanted, or at least felt it was his place, to be there. But, once again, he arrived at the last moment and left for the States even before the rest of the family had got back to the palace.
“Family events are a flashpoint for estrangement,” says Pillemer.
“They are filled with expectations of a happy family together, and that is entirely violated with estrangement. And if you don’t attend, there is a profound sense of loss.”
Nurturing my own grandchildren, aged 4 and 2, and watching them play with uncles, aunts and cousins at last week’s wedding, reinforced my own belief in the importance of family. They may not see them very often, but my grandchildren know their tribe. And it will help them stay grounded.
How sad that little Archie and Lilibet have no prospect at present of getting to know their tribe… on either side of the Atlantic. And what a dreadful loss for King Charles.
Bizarrely, Harry and Meghan have chosen to give their children their “tribal identity”, insisting they be known as Prince and Princess – and, of course, Lilibet is named after her great-grandmother Queen Elizabeth.
Pillemer believes it is the children who may prompt a reconciliation. “Many estranged people begin to open up the relationship again, because they want their own children to have relationships with the rest of the family. And Harry and Meghan’s children are going to be reaching an age where they’re going to begin asking, ‘Why don’t we see our relatives?’ I’m certain they [Harry and Meghan] must be considering the impact on their own children.”
Harry has documented how mentally scarred he is as a result of his mother’s shockingly sudden death, when he was just 12. His sense of loss is a tragic thread which runs through his book and his life. Pillemer believes fragile mental health can be made worse by estrangement.
“There will likely be an array of emotional effects for Prince Harry and his family that include the pain of rejection, a sense of betrayal, a profound sense of loss, and most likely, a greater likelihood towards depression and anxiety as a result of this kind of relationship trauma.”
The schism between Harry and William looks unbridgeable. The final pages of Spare illustrate the fracture in the cornerstone of any relationship: love and trust.
During a tense meeting between Charles and his sons in the gardens of Frogmore House, William apparently forced his brother to look into his eyes.
“Listen to me, Harold, listen,” he said. “I love you, Harold! I want you to be happy… I’ve felt properly sick and ill after everything that’s happened, and I swear to you now on Mummy’s life that I just want you to be happy.”
Harry writes that his voice broke as he told his brother softly: “I really don’t think you do.”
I’m not sure the old mantra that “time is a great healer” will hold true for Harry and his royal family. Time can also lead to stubbornly entrenched positions. People move on. Life moves on. The status quo becomes the norm.
Prince Harry came over to London in June to take the stand in his phone-hacking court case against the Mirror Group. As far as we know, he didn’t see his father or brother. He’ll be here again next week as the family marks what is now one of the most significant days of the year for them. But Harry won’t be with them.
I hope King Charles is true to his word, and keeps the door open for his younger son – and indeed, Meghan – should they wish to take hold of an olive branch. In my view, it’s always up to the parent to be the bigger person: to forgive, if not forget. But it takes two to call a truce and, sadly, that day still looks a very long way off.