The announcement that King Charles is stripping his brother Andrew of his remaining titles has a special poignancy. One thing that nobody denies about Mr Mountbatten‑Windsor is his sense of entitlement. In her posthumous biography Nobody’s Girl, his accuser, Virginia Giuffre, said of their encounter in Ghislaine Maxwell’s Belgravia home in 2001: “He was friendly enough, but still entitled – as if he believed having sex with me was his birthright.”
While Andrew Mountbatten‑Windsor says he “vigorously” denies the accusations against him, many people have already made up their own minds. The news that the Metropolitan Police Service (Met) is now reviewing allegations that, in 2011, he asked one of his taxpayer‑funded protection officers to dig up damaging information about Virginia Giuffre has not helped his case. Nor has the email revealed by the Mail on Sunday, in which Andrew promised to “play more soon!!” with Epstein, which exposed the lie that he had cut off all contact with the sex offender after he had been convicted.
Watching replays of the now‑infamous Emily Maitlis interview has left many wondering what made him think he could get away with such audacious falsehoods. But an upbringing in which you are addressed as “Your Royal Highness” as soon as you can toddle breeds an overweening sense of entitlement. Andrew has self‑worth in spades – instilled largely by his mother and great protector, the late Queen Elizabeth II. She is no longer here to shield him, and it was only a matter of time before his elder brother, King Charles, meted out a punishment that many felt was long overdue and well deserved.
There was sibling rivalry from the beginning. When Charles was born, his mother had little time for him. Her father’s health was failing and she was obliged to take on public engagements on behalf of the King. Prince Philip, then a serving naval officer, was stationed in Malta. Less than a week after Charles’s first birthday, Princess Elizabeth joined him there, leaving her son in the care of nursery staff.
When Charles contracted tonsillitis, neither parent returned home. His mother visited on his second birthday, but on his third, she was touring the US and Canada. Soon after, she was in Kenya when the King died on 6 February 1952, and Elizabeth became Queen when Charles was just three.
Eight years later, while Charles was away at boarding school, Andrew was born. By then, the Queen had settled into the role of monarch. She cut evening engagements and scaled back foreign tours to spend time with her new son. She pushed him in his pram around the palace gardens, visited the flamingos on the lake and, when the nanny had an evening off, took charge of bedtime – all things Charles had rarely, if ever, experienced. Staff nicknamed Andrew “Baby Grumpling” for his tantrums; Philip called him “The Boss”. However unruly he was, he was seldom punished. He was openly considered the favourite by many visitors and onlookers.
Both boys were sent to Gordonstoun, the austere Scottish boarding school Philip had attended. Charles found it brutal – “Colditz in kilts”. By the time Andrew arrived, the regime had softened: central heating, carpets, curtailed corporal punishment and, crucially, girls. Andrew began earning his “Randy Andy” reputation.
The brothers followed their father into the Royal Navy. While Charles eventually commanded an ageing minesweeper in home waters, Andrew flew helicopters in the Falklands War. Upon his return, he was hailed as a hero – only adding to his sense of entitlement. Honours followed. In 2003, Andrew was made a Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order; in 2011, the Queen privately elevated him to Knight Grand Cross of the same order. He collected medals, then joined her for tea.
When Charles married Diana and had two sons, Andrew slid down the line of succession and, like many “spares”, struggled for purpose. After leaving the Navy, he became UK trade envoy. “Airmiles Andy” amassed expenses, jetted around the world, played golf, associated with questionable figures and attracted criticism – but the Queen’s soft spot for him never hardened.
However, that aura of untouchability collapsed in 2010 when the News of the World published a photograph of him with convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein. He stood down. The palace hoped that would end it. But Virginia Giuffre was already speaking to police. In 2009, she filed suit anonymously as Jane Doe against Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, who is now in America serving a 20‑year federal sentence for trafficking minors.
Despite the allegations that Giuffre had been trafficked and forced to have sex with Andrew – which he denies – the Met declined to investigate. The US Department of Justice made repeated Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty (MLAT) requests for Andrew to be interviewed by the FBI. He said he would co‑operate but never did. Under MLAT protocol, if Andrew refused, the Home Office should have facilitated Met questioning. None of this happened, prompting questions over who might have been shielding him.
In August 2021, Giuffre filed a civil suit in New York accusing him of sexual assault. She wrote in her memoir that when proceedings were launched, legal papers could not be served because Andrew “fled to Balmoral and hid behind its gates.” Judge Lewis Kaplan eventually ruled that papers could be served via his Los Angeles‑based lawyers.
The suit was settled with no admission of liability for a reported £12m. A source familiar with the deal said it was only signed once Andrew showed proof of funds from the £17 million sale of a Swiss chalet. It was widely reported that the Queen contributed significantly to the payment out of her private funds, including a personal donation to Giuffre’s victims’ charity. Even then, Andrew retained privileges: Counsellor of State, Duke of York and Vice‑Admiral. At Prince Philip’s memorial service, Andrew escorted the Queen – considered by many a striking signal of her unwavering support.
His mother’s protection shaped his sense of invulnerability. But she is gone, and Charles has brought down his sword. Yet this is far from over. The US Congress is now taking an interest. Scotland Yard is re-examining inquiries – though only regarding the alleged request for dirt on Giuffre, not the core allegations.
This is about more than titles or residences. A young woman whose claims were credible enough for a US federal court is now dead. The public still believes that someone must be held accountable – or at least compelled to tell everything they know. Andrew continues to deny all allegations. The Met remains in “review” mode, not actively investigating. The rest us waits for the release of the full Epstein files, while powerful people stay silent. Those files may be the only route to the truth and to accountability, if true justice is ever to be served.
Nigel Cawthorne is the author of ‘War of the Windsors’ (Welbeck) and ‘Prince Andrew: Epstein, Maxwell and the Palace’ (Gibson Square)
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