Royalty and national pride

There he goes again. Now Prince Henrik, the husband of Queen Margrethe, has announced that he won’t be buried with the queen in the sarcophagus in Roskilde Cathedral specially constructed for them by a prominent sculptor. This proud French nobleman has complained for years about not being made king, and when he retired from active duty last year at the age of 81, he gave up the title of prince consort, which had distinguished him from his male progeny but still rankled. For this latest stunt, he was immediately criticized by royalty experts as well as many of his subjects for besmirching a long tradition.

One of the most glaring differences between the nations of Denmark and the United States, of course, is that the former is a monarchy, in fact “the world’s oldest existing” one. The institution of the royal family, particularly the current one despite the wayward paterfamilias, is held in high regard by the vast majority of the citizenry, and one could ask how it contributes to the Danes’ vaunted happiness and life satisfaction. It is evidently no small source of national pride. It fosters a sense of shared identity, history, tradition and continuity. Its rituals, pageantry and bygone decorum foster a warm, fuzzy feeling and a reminder of time when Denmark ruled much of northern Europe – at least when the current figureheads are behaving properly.

Just doing their job

The queen is a talented painter and designer. The maturing, amiable crown prince is a triathlete. His brother is a more questionable character who alienated his first wife and then found a second who bears an uncanny resemblance to the crown prince’s romantic catch from Tasmania. People follow their elaborate wedding preparations, the ceremonial parades in horsedrawn coaches, their toddlers starting day-care with ordinary offspring; they see the entire family all gathered live on the palace balcony twice a year smiling and waving to the commoners below. Journalists hastily brief us on the backgrounds of the privileged guests at gala dinners and the decorations conferred on the captains of industry and steadfast civil servants. The queen gives a brief speech on New Year’s Eve urging her subjects to be tolerant and generous and thanking Greenlanders for their hospitality on official visits.

There’s a tame weekly picture magazine devoted to the Danish royals and their European counterparts that rarely uncovers more than mild scandals over special dispensations for fox hunts and other indulgences. Now, by making an ultimatum of his demand for the title, Prince Henrik has upped the ante, provoking some to condemn tabloid sensationalism exploiting an old man who needs help.

Not the Wild West

It has always puzzled me that countries with socialist inclinations want to elevate a group of people solely because of an accident of birth and get sentimental about feudal costumes. When asked about this, Danes often respond that they couldn’t bear an American-style president. That seems like a straw man (granted, a scary one in its current incarnation). It may be reasonable to prefer a parliamentary system based on consensus and compromise to a strong, sometimes unpredictable executive branch, but parliamentary democracy doesn’t require a non-political head of state to formally sign the laws and entertain foreign dignitaries. The president of Germany is basically only a ceremonial figurehead no one has heard of. The Danes’ pride in the royal family must involve something visceral that supersedes political argument.

Others make a different comparison with the US, explaining the endurance of the royals by noting that there’s no Hollywood here and people need some celebrities for gossip fodder. You can turn that comparison around and say that if movie, music and sports stars are a sort of royalty, then a closer equivalent is reality TV stars, who like the royals gained their fame by chance more than merit. And of course today both of these bad alternatives have merged as reality TV has taken over the White House.

Insurrection

Only a few lonely Danish republicans want to abolish the institution. A couple of years ago, the intrepid columnist Anne Sofie Hermansen launched a debate on the issue, proposing that if it couldn’t be removed, the royal family should be financed by a voluntary tax, like the church tax. She was drowned out by a chorus of apologists whose strongest argument was simply that a majority of citizens wanted to keep it and didn’t mind the expense. About one third think they’re too expensive, but that means only that the shopping trips are getting too extravagant. Lately, with the proliferation of grandchildren, their allowances have been reduced.

But hardly anyone seems to feel it contradicts the fundamental principles of democracy and socialism. Even some on the far left, who aren’t satisfied by the highest marginal income tax rate in the world, won’t touch the third rail of the current figureheads’ entitlements. Some proponents maintain that the royals are a good investment as tourist bait and international trade reps, but Hermansen and others contest that claim. In any case, we’re unlikely to see the blue bloods sent out into the labor market to find gainful employment. In the worst case, they’ve probably hoarded enough of those tax revenues to slink away to Monaco and sip their cocktails in peace.

Only a sperm donor?

My pet theory is that in the most heavily taxed nation on earth, wasting some of those taxes to support one particular family in grand style demonstrates the nation’s surplus treasure. The embarrassing irony is that they’re more compelling and entertaining to follow when they act foolishly and waste taxpayers’ money – that is, they earn their keep by being unworthy of it. In this regard, Prince Henrik’s intransigent petulance succeeds wonderfully. He doesn’t even want to be buried in the land of égalité, so in forcing Denmark to find him a suitable alternative gravesite, he has managed to take his own future remains hostage. By disgracing the most solemn ceremony in the land, the monarch’s funeral, he highlights Denmark’s principled refusal to be cowed into crowning an interloper who has never even learned to speak the language quite fluently. Even though the heir apparent is half-French, Prince Henrik has unwittingly reinforced the integrity of the Danish tribe.

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