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The tabloids have a ready rebuttal to this this common common sense, sense, based on the scalding embarrassment that Fleet Street still feels about ignoring the love affair between Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, which resulted in the King's abdication. The Sun's Arthur Edwards says that "never again" will the British press keep silent as they did in 1936. When Wallis Simpson waited for her divorce in Ipswich, the American papers ran the story. Fleet Street wasn't running it because the press barons had made a gentlemen's agreement with the King. "That was in fact censorship," says Edwards. But he also admits: "This is not a personal war against the palace press office. It is a question of what makes money. It's about circulation of papers. It's business."
Yes, indeed. At week's end business had taken Mauro Carraro and much of the rest of Fleet Street's merry band to Mayport, Fla. Why had they crowded into this unlikely outpost? It seemed that Prince Andrew's ship, the aircraft carrier Invincible, was tying up at the naval station there so that the crew could rest up a bit, maybe get a look at U.S. military procedure. Tell us another, the press was thinking. Was it coincidence that Saturday would be his 23rd birthday, and that — aha! — Koo's mother had a house in Venice, across the state? Hadn't Koo been spotted in New York City a few days before? Andrew fenced warily at a two-minute press conference the day before. No, he didn't have plans for the weekend, "and I wouldn't tell all of you if I did." And, no, he wouldn't buy the reporter drinks on his birthday.
Like most of the press capering, this was part of a strange, wistful, almost innocent quest for glimpses of beings about whose private selves, despite all of the lenses that have been trained on them, very little is known. Andrew and his royal relatives are well-subsidized, and perhaps should not complain about occasional aggro. Snatched photos and nonsensical stories do very little serious harm. Until, of course, they cross some unmarked line of intrusiveness and cruelty. It is not unreasonable to worry about the pressure of incessant press coverage on Diana, whose lack of the lifelong experience with public exposure that a born and bred royal would have has made her a special case. It is not foolish to point out that the monarchy would be damaged if Diana were hurt. "Yes, but what is she really like?" is a question that should not take precedence over all humane considerations of privacy. How to protect royal privacy is not at all certain. What is clear is that to Britons, the palace is no house of cards. Their Queen of Diamonds, Jack of Diamonds, and future King and Queen of Hearts are as solidly in place in public affection as were their forebears of a century ago, when Fleet Street minded its manners a little better. —By John Skow. Reported by Bonnie Angelo and Mary Cronin/London with other bureaus