Coronation was a triumph for real royals and disaster for Harry, Meghan

Until Sunday night, the most powerful public statement that’s ever come out of Prince William’s mouth was the eight words: “No, we’re very much NOT a racist family.”

He spat those words out with a cold fury to the media after he was asked about his brother Harry and sister-in-law Meghan’s incendiary claims of royal racism in their Oprah whine-a-thon two years ago.

They are claims for which the Sussex moaners have never produced a shred of evidence, and which Harry recently, and preposterously, tried to say weren’t ever intended to imply any racism.

Since then, the Prince of Wales has maintained a dignified silence as Harry has repeatedly and shamefully trashed him, his wife, Catherine, his father, Charles, and his stepmother, Camilla, in a repugnant tell-all book and Netflix documentary series.

It won’t have been easy.

No man would prefer standing back and saying nothing while his own sibling torches their whole family in such a disgusting manner.

Indeed, I’m reliably told that William has felt so incensed by Harry’s treachery, he didn’t trust himself not to physically remonstrate with him when they next found themselves in proximity.

But when that moment happened in Westminster Abbey on Saturday, William didn’t punch his little brother, or speak to him.

In fact, he didn’t even look at him, as Harry skulked inside like a naughty schoolboy and took his place three rows back from the main players, in the same royal Siberia as his disgraced uncle Prince Andrew.

Instead, William focused on his own hugely significant role at their father’s coronation, kneeling before King Charles to promise his allegiance as his heir to the throne: “I, William, Prince of Wales, pledge my loyalty to you, and faith and truth I will bear unto you, as your liege man of life and limb. So help me God.”

He then touched the King’s crown with his right hand and bent forward to kiss his left cheek.

It was an intensely personal yet also very public display of support and one that moved the King to smile and whisper: “Thank you, William.”

And what was Harry’s contribution to supporting his father?

The surly spoiled brat barely mumbled the oath when the congregation was invited to say it, and looked like he found singing the national anthem in tribute to his dad as pleasurable as sucking on a lemon soaked in Tabasco.

A lip reader later revealed that Harry spent most of his time during the service complaining to Jack Brooksbank, Princess Eugenie’s husband.

“I’m fed up with the way they treat me,” he apparently said at one stage, adding: “They don’t care.”

We don’t know whom he was talking about, but if it was his family, it was a laughably tone-deaf refrain given the way he and his wife have worked so tirelessly to embarrass, shame and cause damage to the royals and the monarchy.

What was very notable was how none of the royal family — aside from Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice and their husbands, who all entered the abbey with him, and a fleeting exchange with Princess Anne — wanted anything to do with their Judas.

But what did he expect in return for his despicable disloyalty — to be received with warm hugs, kisses and high-fives by his grateful relatives?

I’ve no idea why Harry was even at the coronation for a father he has so relentlessly criticized becoming king of a monarchy he’s described as a callous, racist prison camp.

And he got exactly what he deserved: stuck behind the large red feather plume on Anne’s hat, just as Meghan was hidden behind a candle at the Queen’s funeral.

These things don’t happen by accident.

It’s the palace’s way of telling the world you’ve behaved so badly, you’ve abrogated the right to bathe in the reflected glory of a big royal occasion.

Harry couldn’t wait to get away after the service, almost running into a waiting car outside the abbey — paid for, like his security in the UK, by the British taxpayer — to speed him straight to Heathrow so he could fly back to California.

We were assured this was all so he could see his son, Archie, on his fourth birthday, being the wonderfully caring father he is — unlike his own supposedly cold, cruel dad.

But I’ve had three sons celebrate a fourth birthday, and trust me: By the time he got home, long after 9 p.m., young Archie will have been fast asleep.

No, like everything else in Harry and Meghan’s world, this was all performative, self-serving PR nonsense, gleefully spun by their regular fork-tongued lickspittles.

I suspect the real reason he bailed early was because he knows his family hates him for what he’s done to them, and the institution they serve so dutifully, and as the polls show, the public has no time for him now either, on either side of the Atlantic.

Harry is not just persona non grata, he’s become his own worst nightmare, an utter irrelevance.

The sad truth for him is that for all his attention-seeking antics before, during and after the coronation, nobody really cared whether he was there.

The world’s eyes were on his father the King; his stepmother, the Queen Consort; his brother, the next king; his sister-in-law, the next queen; and their delightful young children.

It was their images plastered over the globe’s newspaper front pages and their faces beamed out from all the TV coverage. It’s they who represent the future.

And when Charles and Camilla came out on the Buckingham Palace balcony to greet the roaring crowds on Saturday, Harry was nowhere to be seen, and nobody gave a monkey’s cuss that he was already boarding his flight.

Meanwhile, William aced the entire weekend, culminating in his short but magnificent speech at the Windsor Castle concert on Sunday night.

For just under three minutes, he paid heartfelt tribute to his father, invoking the memory of his grandmother Queen Elizabeth II of whom he said: “I know she’s up there, fondly keeping an eye on us. And she would be a very proud mother.”

William shared that pride, telling the crowd how his father had spent over 50 years dedicating himself to serving his country and the commonwealth, warning of environmental risks to the planet long before it became cool to do so, and supporting over a million young, disadvantaged people with his brilliant Prince’s Trust charity.

Then came the zinger that took me right back to his steely, “No, we’re very much NOT a racist family” retort two years ago.

“And perhaps most importantly of all,” William said, “my father has always understood that people of all faiths, all backgrounds, and all communities deserve to be celebrated and supported.”

In other words, he’s about as far from being a racist as any human being could possibly be.

“Pa,” William said, “we are all so proud of you.”

Then he ended by declaring: “I commit myself to serve you all. King, country, and commonwealth. God save the King!”

And the crowd screamed back its vociferous support for him and his father.

It was a wonderfully joyous moment of union between the two biggest stars of the royal firmament and their people.

And it sent a firm message to the watching world: The monarchy’s in safe hands with two people who, unlike Harry and Meghan, understand selfless royal duty and service, and that the institution’s ability to survive and thrive depends on them bringing the public with them.

This weekend was an absolute triumph for the real royals, and an unmitigated disaster for the bitter, rabble-rousing renegades in Montecito.

God save the King!