Soap Oprah

There is no escaping Meghan and Harry – even if you have zero interest in the British royal family

 

Harry and Meghan. Or Meghan and Harry, to give them their correct billing. There really is no escaping them, is it? Even if you have zero interest in the British royal family, there is no way you can have avoided all those clips of the ‘bombshell’ Oprah tell-all that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex conducted last week – or, for that matter, the reams of commentary that followed. 

 

Having devoured it all – there is nothing I love more than a good soap opera, or should that be soap Oprah? – I now feel as if I have been transported back to the 1990s, when Harry’s mother, Princess Diana, was cast in the role that Meghan is now playing. Diana’s ‘explosive’ confessional featured on the BBC’s Panorama show and was conducted by Martin Bashir, a little-known journalist at the time. Harry and Meghan’s inquisition, on the other hand, was at the hands of Oprah Winfrey, who is arguably more famous than both of the ‘royals’ put together. 

 

But if you ignore that minor difference, the parallels come at you fast and furious. Like Princess Diana, Meghan talks about her mental health struggles, admitting that there was a phase – when she was pregnant with Archie – that she actively thought about taking her own life, such was her unhappiness within the royal world in which she felt like a trapped prisoner. Diana had complained famously that she got no support from the royal family when she married into the institution. Meghan lays the same allegation at the doors of what she calls ‘the firm’ – and then throws in the charge of racism, with the shocking admission that a senior member of the royal family had concerns about the colour of the skin of their prospective children.

 

Even the visual cues are meant to evoke memories of Diana. Like the Princess in her Panorama interview, Meghan is wearing black, her eyes are heavily rimmed with kohl, and she speaks with the same soft cadences as Diana did, as she aims missile after missile at the heart of the British royal family. There are tangible, physical reminders of Diana too, sparkling on Meghan’s wrist, where she sports the diamond bracelet that used to belong to her mother-in-law. The message is clear: Diana is part of their story, giving them both inspiration and strength to go forth on their own path.

 

In a strange way, that makes sense. In some ways, Harry and Meghan are living the life that Diana never got to experience. It is all too likely that if the Princess had lived beyond her 36 years – which is, ironically, exactly the age Harry is now – she would have ended up in America, where she was always wildly popular. There was some speculation that she would end up married to an American billionaire and would start a philanthropic career in the States. With the establishment of their Archewell Foundation, Harry and Meghan are starting down that road, though it is lined with multi-million dollar deals with the likes of Netflix and Spotify. 

 

And more importantly, perhaps, even 24 years after her tragic death Princess Diana is still a shining star in the American celebrity firmament. So evoking her name and memory is as good a way as any of sprinkling some stardust on yourself when you are out to establish yourself as A-list figures in the States. 

 

So, what is the problem exactly, you may well ask. Why do Meghan and Harry feel the need to air all their dirty family laundry in front of an audience of millions? After all, they have achieved what they set out to do. They have landed on their feet in California, living in a palatial mansion that cost around 14 million dollars, with commercial deals that ensure that they never have to worry about paying the bills. And judging by the reaction to their Oprah interview, they are much loved by the American people. 

 

And yet, when you watch Meghan and Harry opening their hearts to Oprah, you can’t help but feel that these are not happy people. They seem unable to shake off the grievances that are mooring them in the past, dwelling on the injustices heaped on them by an uncaring monarchy, instead of focusing on the bliss that surely lies in their future. And that, if you ask me, is the real tragedy.

A tale of two Princesses

Both Priyanka Chopra and Meghan Markle married the Princes of their dreams – and both have had to deal with the nightmare coverage that followed

The first time the world realized that Meghan Markle and Priyanka Chopra were best friends was when the Indian superstar, resplendent in a Vivienne Westwood lilac couture outfit, turned up at St George’s Chapel in Windsor, to attend the Royal Wedding. As Meghan and Prince Harry said their ‘I dos’, Priyanka was among those smiling mistily at the newly-weds. And later in the evening, when it was party time at Frogmore House, Priyanka (now rocking a spectacular sequined Dior gown) was among those dancing the night away.

Frankly, nobody should have been too surprised at this. When you consider the personal histories of both women, their friendship seems somewhat inevitable. Both of them are women of colour who have built up their careers with sheer grit and fortitude in industries in which they had no Godfathers.

In Priyanka’s case, she arrived in Bollywood as a rank outsider – the Miss World title notwithstanding – and slowly but steadily made her mark until she was one of the top actresses of her generation. And then, at the zenith of her career in the Hindi film industry, she took an enormous gamble and signed on to play the lead in the ABC show, Quantico. This brought her global fame and made her a bonafide star in the US as well – a feat that no Indian actress before her had achieved.

Meghan Markle had it even tougher as she tried to break through in Hollywood. She began with blink-and-you-miss-her appearances in such shows as 90210 and stood in as a ‘suitcase girl’ in Deal or No Deal. Then followed a few forgettable bit roles in movies before she finally landed the role that made her famous, Rachel Zane in the legal drama, Suits. As a biracial actress, she was always hard to slot, so the role of Rachel, who had a black father, was tailor-made for her – and, in turn, it made her reputation.

So, there was a certain inevitability to these two women, who had so much in common, becoming friends when they found themselves moving in the same social circles as they shot their respective shows in Toronto.

But now, alas, there appears to be another unfortunate, but inescapable parallel, that has developed between the two besties: their treatment in the media.

As women of colour trying to make their way in a world that is powered by white privilege both Priyanka and Meghan have had to deal with implicit – and sometimes downright explicit – racism in their media coverage. But while they were actresses going about their business, this was still at a reasonable level. But ever since they walked down the aisle with the princes of their dreams (and in Meghan’s case, an actual Prince), the racism, sexism, and plain old misogyny had got out of control.

In Priyanka’s case, this was best exemplified by a venomous article in New York Magazine’s The Cut that described her as a ‘global scam artist’ who had tricked dear deluded Nick Jonas into marrying her. The poor guy, the article read, had just wanted a fling with a glamorous star but was now staring at a ‘life sentence’ after being dragged into a ‘fraudulent relationship against his will’. After an international outcry, the article was taken down, but not before it’s sexist, racist and downright misogynistic tropes had gone viral.

Meghan Markle had had to face the same sort of toxic coverage ever since she married Prince Harry, but in her case, you have to magnify it to the power of a thousand. The British tabloids seem to have made it their life’s mission to destroy the reputation of the newly-minted Duchess of Sussex, spawning a hundred different negative stories about her every day.

Meghan was so ‘difficult’ at a bridesmaid dress fitting for Princess Charlotte that she made Kate (who had just given birth to Prince Louis and was feeling particularly emotional) cry. Meghan wakes up at 5 am every morning and bombards her staff with mails and calls. Meghan made the life of her personal assistant such hell that the poor woman was often reduced to tears and quit after six months. Meghan demanded an emerald tiara and got very stroppy when it was denied to her. Meghan drove a wedge between Harry and his brother William (or was it between Harry and Kate? – who can keep up with this stuff?).

The themes of the coverage are quite consistent. How did these two women of colour, these two upstarts, these rank outsiders, get so far ahead? Who did they ‘scam’ to get where they are? Why don’t they know their place? What gives them the right to stage ‘royal’ weddings, as if they were Princesses in their own right?

Well, you know what? That’s exactly what these women are: Princesses.

No, not the kind who are born in royal palaces to kings and queens. Not the kind who arrive in the world with a golden spoon in their mouth, and have everything handed to them on a platter. And certainly not the kind who have never done a day of work in their lives, gliding aimlessly through their gilded world.

Priyanka and Meghan are Princesses of a different order. They are women who have conquered the world with their own grit, courage, determination, and yes, talent. They have earned the right to wear that crown – or at the very least, that tiara – that proclaims their Princess status through their own efforts. And long may they reign over their detractors!

No country for...

We pride ourselves on being a tolerant society; but does that claim really stand up?

I can't get the image of that Tanzanian student in Bangalore, who was stripped and beaten by a raging mob, out of my head. How scared she must have been as she was pulled out of her car, with dozens of hands violating her body. Her terror as the one person who offered her a T-shirt to cover up was also set upon by the mob. And her utter despair when the police, who were supposed to protect her, simply looked the other way.

And then, to add insult to already grievous injury, came the comments of the state home minister. This was just an instance of road rage, he said, set off by the death of a local woman who had been run over. It had nothing to do with racism.

Really? Why would a mob attack the occupants of a car that came upon the scene long after the accident had occurred, if it wasn't for the fact that both cars were carrying African students? They couldn't tell a Sudanese from a Tanzanian; all they saw was the colour of their skin. And that was enough to spark a murderous rage in them.

If that isn't racist behaviour, then I really don't know what is.

And while attacks like the one on the Tanzanian student are rare, they are far from unknown. We can't have forgotten the midnight 'raids' conducted by Somnath Bharti in Delhi, when he led an angry mob, which went on a rampage, attacking and harassing several African women, accusing them of being sex workers and drug dealers. Bharti has since been prosecuted in the case, which is now slowly winding its way through the justice system, and will continue to do so over the next decade.

There are probably many other incidents of racism against Africans residents in India that never come to light. And even when they do, we never consider them worthy of discussion. It is hardly a secret that African students find it next to impossible to rent houses, that they are often referred to in perjorative terms as they go about their daily business. That the women are routinely stigmatized as sex workers and the men as drug dealers. We all know this, but for some reason, it doesn't bother us in the slightest. Perhaps, because we are far too busy denying that we are racist (who me? Don't be silly!).

It is not just the Black Africans who bear the brunt of our racism, though. Even our own countrymen from the north-eastern states suffer, simply because they look a little different. The term 'Chinki' is used routinely when referring to them; the thought that it might be offensive doesn't even occur to those throwing it about. That we can't tell a Naga from a Khasi, a Meitei from a Mizo is bad enough. What is even worse is that we can't tell an Indian from the north-east apart from a Chinese, Korean or Japanese person. And so, we end up treating them as foreigners in their own country.

Sadly, racism is not the only taint on our so-called 'tolerant' society. Ours is also not a country for women, whatever their color, racial type, religion or socio-economic status. We can't walk down the street without being harassed, can't travel in public transport without being groped, or even work in an office without suffering some kind of sexual harassment. The girl child is killed in the womb, the young adult is denied the same education as her brother, and the professionals come up against the glass ceiling sooner rather than later. And that's before we even go into the sexual violence women are subjected to, both in the home and outside, and the dowry deaths that go on unabated.

But women, at least, still have recourse to the law. In that, they are still better off than same-sex couples who are criminalized by Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, simply for the act of loving whom they do. It beggars belief that a colonial-era law that makes homosexuality a criminal act is still on the statute books of independent India -- even after the British themselves made homosexuality legal in 1967 and legalized gay marriage in 2014. And, sadly, even if the curative petition accepted by the Supreme Court does result in gay sex being decriminalized, it will be a long time before homosexuals and lesbians in India can live their lives without being stigmatized or harassed in some way.

But then stigmatizing and harassing people seems to have been honed to a fine art in our country. Men can be lynched to death on the suspicion that the meat in their fridge is beef. And instead of condemning this unreservedly, we say, 'What a shame! It wasn't beef at all, it was mutton', as if he deserved his fate if he had, in fact, eaten beef.

The sad truth is that we are rapidly exposing ourselves as a people who can't stand the Other. Men who are threatened by strong women use every tool at their disposal to keep them down. Hindus and Muslims regard one another with suspicion at best and hatred at worst. Dalits and high-caste Hindus are caught in a perpetual battle. Straight people can't stand homosexuals. And nobody has any love lost for people of another color.

I don't know what word best describes a nation like this one. Except that 'tolerant' is not the first one that comes to mind.