2 weeks ago
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Opinion
February 20, 2026 — 3:45pm
The shame is of titanic proportions. Members of the royal family aren’t meant to appear slumped in the back of cop cars, leaving police stations, caught by cameras looking stricken in flashlight. In fact, one of the underpinnings of the monarchy is that monarchs are above the law, not subject to it, based on the understanding that their behaviour is impeccable and worthy of respect. Even their offspring benefit from this sense of somehow floating above commoners.
Which is why it is even more shocking when their reputations are dirtied by allegations of having sexually abused minors (individually and in an orgy) and a close association with a billionaire who orchestrated a global sex-trafficking paedophile network, even trading official secrets with them.
Andrew Mountbatten Windsor, previously the entitled Prince of (Previous) Impunity, has been arrested and investigated over suspicions of misconduct in public office. This comes after the release of millions of Epstein file documents prompted accusations that, when he was a British trade envoy, he shared confidential information with Jeffrey Epstein. He has now been released after questioning, and we wait to see if charges will ensue.
Of course, Andrew – while he somehow remains eighth in line to the throne – is not a monarch. He is both the son and the disgraced brother of one. As Keir Starmer said, Andrew may yet face the full force of the law, like of the king’s subjects.
To fully understand the extent of the shame, we need to understand the history of the monarchy. To find royals who have last been arrested – and actually executed – we need to go back to the bloody 16th and 17th centuries. Both Mary, Queen of Scots and King Charles I were tried for treason and beheaded.
The only modern royal to have a criminal record is Princess Anne, who, not long after she was hit with a fine for speeding in her Bentley, pleaded guilty to a charge under the Dangerous Dogs Act after her English bull terrier – Dotty – bit two children in Windsor Great Park in 2002.
It is the dutiful women – the long-serving queens Victoria and Elizabeth II – who have imbued the monarchy with respectability and decency. The Victorian era had its own scandals: Victoria’s son Bertie was called to testify in a divorce case where he was named as one of the men with whom Lady Harriet Mordaunt had committed adultery. The public scoffed when he denied it, given his well-earned reputation as a philanderer, but poor Lady Harriet was declared to be insane and thrown into a psychiatric institution, as so many “difficult” women were. (For centuries, when women have spoken of sexual transgressions or crimes, they have been dismissed as deranged Pinocchios. “She has no credibility,” Esptein told a reporter of Virginia Giuffre, Andrew’s accuser. She spoke “total horseshit”, was a “total liar”. Esptein emailed someone he called the Duke – “the only person she didn’t have sex with was Elvis”.)
Victoria’s cousin, King Leopold II of Belgium, was the most filthy and disreputable of the lot. He was not only responsible for millions of deaths in the Congo – the first time the term “crimes against humanity” was used was for him – but he imported young virgins from Britain for his pleasure. He paid £800 a month for this steady stream of girls aged 10 to 15. And what happened, you might ask? Nothing. He continued his disgusting ways until his death: Belgians booed the funeral procession of this sex trafficker, who grew his finger nails so long they curled in spirals.
And this takes us to the central question the monarchy is facing: why have they been, for so long, considered above the law? Why is there still such a thing as sovereign immunity?
Under British law, the king or queen is expected to act within the law but is also considered above the law. Sovereign immunity literally means they “can do no wrong” and can’t be prosecuted under civil or criminal law. Nor can they be compelled to give evidence in court. This is only the case for the head of the royal family, but you might understand if your mum or dad was considered to be outside the realm of legal consequence, a bit of that might rub off on you too?
After all, the sovereign is the head of the church and the “fount of all justice”, meaning courts derive authority from the crown. Even prisoners are detained at “Her/His Majesty’s Pleasure”.
An article on the British Monarchy website outlined: “Although civil and criminal proceedings cannot be taken against the Sovereign as a person under UK law, The Queen is careful to ensure that all her activities in her personal capacity are carried out in strict accordance with the law.”
Since the late 1960s, exemptions were made to more than 160 laws, allowing immunity for Elizabeth II, which automatically transferred to her son Charles upon his coronation. These include: not needing to travel with a passport, on the grounds that passports are issued in the monarch’s name. The same rationale applies to drivers’ licences. The monarch has immunity from jury duty and, curiously, racial, ethnic and sexual equality laws. Anyone working for the royal family is unable to complain if they are discriminated against on race or sex grounds.
Should this exemption remain? In 1968, the Queen’s head financial manager, Lord Tryon, stated “it was not, in fact, the practice to appoint coloured immigrants or foreigners to clerical roles in the royal household”. This is clearly no longer the case, but as recently as 2021, Buckingham Palace was considering the need to appoint a diversity chief.
Of course, Andrew is not being investigated as a royal but as a public officer, as former trade envoy. Misconduct occurs when an officer abuses public trust by “wilfully neglecting to perform their duty” or “wilfully misconducting themselves”.
The question of standards – or exemptions for royals – will doubtless be examined in months to come, but regardless, the royal family should be front-footed and candid when asked about what they knew, the questions they asked and the answers that were given. They are exempt from freedom of information laws, but should they always be, especially when King Charles issues a statement saying: “Let me state clearly: the law must take its course”?
Nine separate forces in the UK are currently investigating claims aired in the Epstein files, from sex trafficking to Epstein’s use of various airports. Much will be written about a royal “crisis”, for the tarnishing of the family’s status, and of the need for the King to distance himself vigorously from the brother once branded by tabloids as “Randy Andy”.
The American president Donald Trump said the whole thing was very sad, “it’s very bad for the royal family”. Not all that great, either, for the 1000-odd women who have claimed Epstein trafficked and abused them.
King Charles III’s greatest challenge will be ensuring the focus is not on a potential loss of privilege for the arch-privileged, but instead on the victims trampled by systems that painted them as mad, as liars, as expendable flesh.
Julia Baird is the author of Victoria: The Queen – An Intimate Biography of the Women Who Ruled an Empire.
