Dear Prince Harry,
During one of your recent public appearances, a child asked you if you’d ever be king. You answered, “You’ll be glad to know, probably not!” Well, I think there’s something that can be done about that. Something that doesn’t involve the deaths of loads of people I assume you love, or those people dumping a bunch of stuff on you and being all, “See ya at Balmoral, Your Maj.” Sound too good to be true? Hardly.
As you may know, Donald Trump, he of big hair, golden skyscrapers, reality television, and wanting to have sex with your mom, is officially the Republican Party’s nominee for President of the United States. That this man is actually going to stand for election as a major party’s candidate to become Leader of the Free World (no offense to your granny) is bewildering to many Americans, as I’m sure it must be from afar to you Brits. But I think you’re in a unique position to do something to help if this most apocalyptic of shitstorms the impossible happens and this man becomes president. Harry, on behalf of the millions of Americans cowering in terror at the thought of a President Donald J. Trump, I would like to invite you stateside to become our king (for a bit).
Trump’s election to the presidency will bring an end to American democracy, as we know it. The ensuing unrest should nicely pave the way for the non-violent revolution that will see you swoop in and created King of the United States. All of this will hopefully be accomplished just in time for the inauguration in January to serve as your coronation. (Nice and economical, see?) From there I propose you serve a four-year term as king, at the conclusion of which America will, hopefully, once again be ready to make decisions for itself that don’t spell disaster for the entire world. Once this happens, you are free to go home. If not, by this time, I suspect you’ll at least have gotten used to the spelling and won’t even have to remind yourself that the driver sits on the left-hand side.
You’ve spent your whole life sort of, kind of, thinking you might be king, but knowing you probably wouldn’t. If I learned anything from The Lion King, you must be a really strong person not to have turned into Scar by now, which makes me think your temperament is better suited to the presidency than Donald Trump’s.
Many reading this, and you yourself, might think, “If you’re going to disregard the election result, why not just put Hillary in office?” Think about it: if Hillary Clinton actually loses an election to Donald Trump—Donald Trump—who the Washington Post calls a “unique threat to the constitution,” (and who’s just invited Russia to commit cyber-espionage) I predict her desire to become Commander in Chief will vanish then and there. Plus, if America actually votes Trump into office, we don’t deserve Hillary as our president anyway.
Harry, you’re already buddies with Michelle and you seem pretty friendly with Barack, so I’m sure it’d be no problem for the Obamas to show you around your new home, the White House, before they head out. Won’t it be nice to have a break from living next door to your big bro and your sister-in-law? George and Charlotte are absolutely adorable, but having toddlers as neighbors must get loud sometimes. Of course, thanks to Malia and Sasha, there’s now a swing set at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Coupled with the bowling alley in the basement, the place should be perfect for your niece and nephew when Kate and William bring them to visit. Washington, D.C. may not be London, but it’s a great city teeming with culture and plenty of nightlife; invaluable resources if you decide you want to go looking for Miss Right or just feel like a night out away from the business of ruling.
Actually, you’ll probably need to take some time to relax once you become king (for a bit). Even with American democracy in tatters around your feet, the path toward the, erm, Oval Throne Room won’t exactly be a walk in Kensington Gardens. One of the, ahem, chief issues you might encounter is that, since you’re a British prince, you aren’t a citizen of, nor were you born in the United States. You also weren’t born abroad to two U.S. citizens. As you’ve no doubt heard, though, Americans—well, at least the ones who aren’t xenophobic—are suckers for British accents, so I think you’ll be able to get past this with just a little bit of sweet talking.
At 31, I’ll grant you’re a few years away from the 35-year age minimum to become president. But at 70, Donald Trump is almost 40 years removed from this requirement and shows no signs of having attained the intellectual abilities expected of an average adult, much less one who’s supposed to be in charge of the nuclear codes. Unfortunately, like Trump, you also have zero experience with elected office. You do, however, have experience serving in the British Military, and taking numerous trips abroad as a representative of the United Kingdom, as well on behalf of various charitable causes. It seems this would equip you with some understanding of the importance of diplomacy when it comes to international relations and alliances between countries. Don’t the U.S. and the U.K. already have a “special relationship” anyway? Age and passport are minor details—I’m sure something can be worked out.
In fact, a lot of what makes your background so unorthodox for someone in American politics may come in handy when it comes to being king (for a bit). Donald Trump seems convinced that screaming loudly suffices in the absence of speechmaking. As a prince, I’m sure you’ve been taught that shouting incoherent, inflammatory hate speech, presenting far-fetched lies as facts, general misogyny, bigotry, racism, and inciting violence is rude, as well as ineffective in communicating your message. I’ll wager you probably don’t yell in public very much at all, except at football games. (By the way, I think we’d be willing to substitute “soccer” with “football” if you’d feel more at home!)
Don’t get me wrong, Harry, you’re not perfect. You’ve had your share of gaffes, most famously that Nazi costume incident, but you’ve come through all of that. You’ve taken responsibility for your actions and apologized. Not even once have you tried to blame your mistakes on My Little Pony, or even on anti-monarchists. These qualities, particularly the former, have lately emerged as unexpectedly valuable in a leader.
On behalf of the United States, I hope you’ll consider this unique opportunity, should it arise, to come and try your hand at being king (for a bit). There is, of course, no such thing as a perfect person to run any country. But, if the 2016 election can teach America anything, there is a completely wrong person, and even a Brit with the letters HRH in front of his name isn’t him.