Back to the sublime: Remembering Margrethe II, the now-former Queen of Denmark

Hands down, the most popular queen in history?

Even Danish republicans—Socialist politicians who wish to do away with the expensive and frivolous monarchy—used to say that Queen Margrethe II would easily win election as the small nation’s first democratically-chosen president, if it ever came to that.

When she suddenly announced her plans to abdicate in January in favor of her elder son, King Frederik X—becoming the first Danish monarch to abdicate in 900 years—many politicians suggested she should break tradition and crown him herself, rather than let the elected Prime Minister—a Socialist, Mette Frederiksen—do it, instead. Margrethe demurred, and followed tradition.

Former Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, still going strong as she nears 84 in April 2024. Courtesy Encyclopedia Britannica

The previous Margaret (her name was later changed to Margrethe I) had last reigned in the 15th century, after two kings—her husband and only son—both died, and the rules were later changed to mandate male monarchs. The constitution had once had to be changed in her favor in the 1950s, just to permit a female crown princess.

If only 42 percent of Danes had even wanted another monarch in 1972, according to the polls, the 31-year-old Margrethe changed all that. She always followed her own path, never skipping a beat. A trained archaeologist with a French diplomat for a husband and two telegenic sons, Margrethe II was tall (6 feet!), vigorous, and a chain smoker—in common with so many Danes—who loved to travel and when not busy with affairs of state, found time to become a gifted artist, screenwriter, and in general, a Renaissance woman, in her own right.

Over her five-decade reign, she became, not unlike her third cousin, Queen Elizabeth II of England, a beloved institution—if sometimes a quirky one. (Both were great-great-granddaughters of Queen Victoria.) When I lived in Denmark as a Foreign Service officer in the mid-1980s, ordinary Danes talked about her as they would a beloved family member—always favorably, mind you, but also as if they knew her personally. Even in a prosperous small country, otherwise-sophisticated people may behave just like they live in a big small town … and worldwise Danes are no exception …

In January, she had been her nation’s Queen for exactly 52 years, since January 1972, following the death of her popular father, Frederik IX. It was her surprise choice to step down; the 85 percent of Danes who have since come to approve of the monarchy, thanks almost entirely to her popular example, probably agreed, however grudgingly.

Cousins and Queens together on parade in Copenhagen, 1979. Public domain photo

In March, one of her 20th-century paintings sold at auction for an astonishing 160,000 kroner (about US$24,000)—probably a post-abdication “bump,” but still impressive for an amateur. Not many of the paintings have ever been sold, but others are proudly displayed in museums. She has also illustrated books, designed church vestments, and costumes, with a distinctive flair for colors.

Sometimes, the baggage she carried was complicated. Her late husband, Prince Henrik, was something of an enigma. I remember Danes making gentle fun of him (“the frog prince”) and the way he spoke Danish—with a thick French accent—even while they mocked the difficulty of their own language (“it’s a disease of the throat,” some of them told me, “not a language at all”). I couldn’t argue. My hard-won, labored Danish was so slow and clearly enunciated that many Danes shuddered and switched to English, which was clear and intelligible and at which most could have passed a test for native fluency.

On the other hand, most Danes under 50 already spoke at least three languages—”we must, because no one can understand Danish”—including English and either French or German, all of which Margrethe spoke fluently, along with her mother’s native Swedish. Yet in the 1980s, most older Danes still detested Germans for their brutal occupation during World War II, to the point of sneaking out at night on the west Jutland coast to fill in German tourist “foxholes” in the sand.

Margrethe herself was born a week after the 1940 occupation began, and spent her first five years as a German state “prisoner,” of sorts. She probably felt just as strongly as her Jutland subjects—but would have prudently counseled her citizens to be more neighborly after Denmark joined the EU, the year after she took the throne.

Educated both at home and abroad—she studied at Cambridge and the Sorbonne—Margrethe was a refreshingly down-to-earth monarch with a common touch. Troubled by her husband’s illness and death several years ago and plagued by her own health issues, including serious back surgery just last year, she decided to abdicate to steer her son back into a leadership role while he was still young enough—55—to lead for a few years, if not as long as she did. (It was even whispered, if with little evidence, that she also hoped to stabilize his marriage, which gossip magazines claimed was failing.)

King Frederik, a career military officer and former diplomat with a master’s degree in political science, and his Australian-born wife, Queen Mary, who holds a law degree, will doubtless set their own stylish course as modern royals. With four children, they are now by far the youngest reigning Scandinavian monarchs—and indeed, though just barely, across all of Europe—and well regarded by their peers.

In May, they will pay tradition-honored first state visits by new royals to their nearest fellow rulers, both much nearer his mother’s age—King Carl XVI Gustaf, 77, and Queen Silvia of Sweden—and in Norway, 87-year-old King Harald V and Queen Sonja. Harald, in delicate health, will soon pass the throne to his son, Crown Prince Haakan of Norway; Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden will eventually succeed her father.

King Frederik X and Queen Mary of Denmark, newly-crowned in January 2024. Public domain photo

It is all very much a family affair, and almost all through England’s Queen Victoria: both fellow kings are the cousins of Margrethe, who is also related to the current kings of Belgium (Phillippe) and, of course, England (Charles III). And her youngest sister, Anne-Marie, once the Queen of Greece (1964-1973), is aunt by marriage to King Felipe VI of Spain.

The King’s aunt, former Queen Anne-Marie of Greece, at her husband’s funeral in 2023. Public domain photo

I must note for the record that while inordinately proud of my surname, I am only part-Danish—one-quarter, thanks to my two Danish great-grandparents—and otherwise, mostly English. Sadly, no royal blood runs in my veins. I am not related to either Queen Margrethe or Queen Elizabeth, nor did I ever meet them. My immigrant ancestors from both countries were simple commoners, farmers and businessmen.(My wife, born a British subject, as a child did at least see her Queen during her visit to Jamaica; in 1983, Elizabeth II signed my Commonwealth commission as a consular officer there, and I still have it hanging on my wall.)

But as a longtime fan of these two eminently likable and perceptive leaders, I still wish I had been able to shake both their hands. I grieved when Queen Elizabeth passed away in 2022, and was disappointed when her cousin Margrethe chose not to remain on her throne, even though I proudly lived in her kingdom for only two years.

Chances are that for many years to come, Denmark’s new king and queen will live at least partly in the well-regarded shadow of his mother, Margrethe. One thing is for sure: As long as the former Queen lives in retirement, she will have a solid hold on the hearts of many Danes and at least some part-Danes, including mine.

Next time: A century in the making: George White points to the future