Few of us remember a world without the Queen or, until recently, imagined one. For seven decades the UK and most other Commonwealth realms treated questions about ditching the monarchy or what to expect of her successor more as thought experiments than urgent business. Her eldest son, by contrast, has long wrestled with both propositions, recognising in his mother’s unmatchable popularity a phenomenon that simultaneously secures his path to the throne and complicates his singular destiny. Born to preserve the crown and pass it on, Prince Charles at times doubts he will achieve either of these things.
He is, as a result and by nature, anxious, seeing existential threats behind every arras. Excitable aides can encourage this tendency. In 2015, I published a biography examining his strange existence; his character, by turns engaging and peevish; and the startling beliefs that have driven his lifelong interventionism and reckless fundraising for the charities he felt compelled to found. Spooked by press coverage of some of the book’s revelations, unnamed palace sources went on the attack, issuing false denials about the unusually generous access to Charles, his friends and staff that underpinned my research.
