Nearly thirty years have passed since a Parisian car crash fractured the British monarchy forever. Yet the ghosts of 1997 refuse to rest. Earl Spencer, the brother of Diana, Princess of Wales, just shattered decades of polite royal silence with his new memoir, Swan Song: Diana, My Sister.
The book contains an allegation that stops you cold. Charles, then the Prince of Wales, allegedly sounded "giddily elated" and "like a lottery winner" during a phone call with the Earl hours after Diana died. For a more detailed analysis into similar topics, we recommend: this related article.
It is a stunning accusation. It is also one that has triggered an almost unprecedented defensive counter-punch from Buckingham Palace.
Behind the Memoir and the Shocking Phone Call
Let us look at what was actually written. In serialised extracts published in the Daily Mail, Earl Spencer details the immediate aftermath of August 31, 1997. While his phone was ringing constantly with stunned, grief-stricken callers, Charles struck a completely different tone. For broader context on this topic, in-depth coverage can also be found at The New York Times.
The Earl wrote that unlike others who could barely articulate their condolences, Charles sounded bizarrely upbeat. Looking back, the Earl claims he suspected the prince's immediate instinct wasn't about the tragic loss of life. Instead, it was the subconscious realization that a bitter chapter was closed and a path had opened up to marry the woman he loved.
This claim doesn't stand alone in the text. The memoir also alleges that Charles engaged in a heated argument over the funeral arrangements. The Earl claims Charles lashed out when told that Princes William and Harry shouldn't walk behind the coffin, and allegedly told him that Diana would be "forgotten soon enough."
The Palace Breaks Its Own Rule
Normally, the House of Windsor sticks firmly to the classic playbook of never complaining and never explaining. They let the tabloids scream, they let the news cycle churn, and they wait for it to blow over.
Not this time.
Buckingham Palace took the rare step of issuing a sharp public response to the serialisation. A palace spokesperson noted that "the pain of fraternal grief can cloud reason, affect judgment and colour memory in ways others do not recognise, even many years after such a loss."
Royal commentators immediately flagged how unusual this is. It mirrors the sharp tactical shifts seen during past family crises, signaling just how deeply these specific claims stung inside the institution. Former aides have publicly questioned the language, with some pointing out that the phrasing simply does not match the person they worked for during that era.
Why This Timing Matters
Timing is everything in publishing and royal PR. Dropping a tell-all memoir containing severe allegations against the sitting monarch creates immediate turbulence.
Critics and royal experts have pointed out the obvious overlap with other high-profile royal movements. But beyond the media chess match, the core issue is human memory versus official narrative. Grief makes ghosts out of facts. Decades-old phone calls get reinterpreted through the lens of everything that happened later.
When you look back at the wreckage of the nineties, everyone involved carried their own version of trauma. Charles wanted his life back. Diana wanted her voice heard. Her family wanted protection.
The past isn't dead. It is still cashing royalty checks.
Take a close look at how public figures weaponize memoirs decades after the fact. Don't expect the monarchy to change its defensive strategy anytime soon. Keep watching how old wounds get packaged for modern audiences.
