It is revealing to examine what precisely has caused such outrage at the Nazi costume worn by Prince Harry last week. The furore has centred on the crassness of such a choice, particularly coming up to the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, and the offence given to both victims of the Holocaust and Allied combatants.
However, on one level, Harry's choice of costume has an interesting logic to it. The theme of the fancy dress party in question was "Colonials and Natives". To reflect this, the marquee where the party was held was painted white at one end and black at the other.
The wearing of Nazi paraphernalia, with its notions of white supremacy and inferiority of non-Aryan races, perfectly complemented the theme of the party. Rather than some mindless display of ignorance, Harry's costume hints at an acute political understanding of the connection between Nazis, colonials and natives. Viewed from this perspective, it could be argued that the prince appears to be something other than the silly boy he has been painted in Britain.
British opinion is divided on whether or not Harry should now be allowed into the Sandhurst Military Academy to train as an army officer. The predominant view seems to be that Sandhurst might make a man of him. However, in a piece of remarkably apt timing, it also emerged during the week that a group of Sandhurst cadets has been photographed dressed up as - yes, you guessed it - Nazi officers.
Complete with swastikas, one of them can even be seen giving a Hitler salute. In an uncanny echo of the "Colonials and Natives" theme, it appears that those not in Nazi uniform had their faces painted black and wore Afro wigs. Clearly, Harry will fit right in at Sandhurst.
Lest anyone think that this colonial business is now just a bit of a joke, the antics of Margaret Thatcher's son Mark should provide a sharp reminder of the views of a certain section of the British ruling class.
Sir Mark was found guilty last week in a South African court of involvement in a plot by mercenaries (some of them ex-British army officers trained at Sandhurst) to topple the government of Equatorial Guinea, Africa's third-largest oil producer.
Suspicions have centred on a group of London businessmen keen to get their hands on the country's oil profits.
This is the nasty underbelly of what could otherwise be dismissed as the stupid antics of the party-going cream of British society. In the row over Prince Harry and his Nazi gear, the unedifying spectacle of the upper classes disporting themselves at parties celebrating their colonial past has been largely ignored. In the context of past crimes, the activities of British colonists around the world certainly bear comparison with those of the Nazis.
However, Britain is far less comfortable dealing with this aspect of its past, finding it easier to focus on the evil of Nazism, and of course by extension on Britain's relatively uncomplicated and honourable record during the second World War.
Selective views of the past, and indeed of collaboration with Nazis, have been in evidence recently on this side of the Irish Sea. Sinn Féin Dublin City Councillor Christy Burke announced during the week that he wants Dublin Corporation to pay for the restoration of the Seán Russell statue. Located in Fairview Park, this was vandalised a few weeks ago and its head removed.
Russell had directed an IRA bombing campaign in Britain during the second World War, doing his bit to supplement the damage being done by German bombardment. He had no problem seeking to ally the IRA with the Nazis to fight the old foe. He was considered useful enough by Germany during the war to be ferried back to Ireland in a U-boat, on which he unexpectedly died in 1940.
Leaving aside the raft of complex ambiguities in Ireland towards the Nazi regime during the war, there can be no excuse for such moral compromise today. Regardless of Seán Russell's patriotic activities during 1916 and the War of Independence, the idea that the taxpayer should foot the bill to honour someone who was a Nazi collaborator is an extraordinary proposition.
But Sinn Féin would have us remember only a part of Seán Russell's legacy, the easy bit comprising his life before Irish independence. In similar vein, they would also have us forget the shooting of Jean McConville, a widow and mother of 10 children.
Referring to party colleague Mitchel McLaughlin's refusal to describe her murder by the IRA in 1972 as a crime, Christy Burke said on RTE's Liveline this week: "We were in an area of conflict let's not go down that route we need to move on." Perhaps a useful way of moving on would be for Dublin City Council to replace the statue of Seán Russell with a memorial to Jean McConville, as a permanent reminder to counter those who persist in their selective and dangerous views of past crimes.