Today, in the age of monsters, international politics ceases to be analysis, strategy or ideological debate and becomes pure theatre. Not even high art, but one of those badly tuned comedy sketches that provoke bitter laughter because they bare the cynicism of power. Denmark's recent agony is one such moment. So well-orchestrated that not even the most scathing political satire would dare to capture it.
In the middle of last week, Europe's so-called «willing», those who for years have appeared ready for a fight with Russia, issued a statement of support for Denmark. Unlike the usual aggressive crowns, the wording was colorless, cautious, almost fearful. And not by accident. It was not addressed to Moscow. It was addressed to Washington. To Donald Trump. It was an implicit plea to «rethink» the Greenland issue.
This is exactly where the geopolitical irony begins.
Denmark, which has recently taken on the role of European herald against the «Russian threat», suddenly finds that the greatest danger to its territorial integrity comes not from Putin, but from what was until recently its closest and strongest ally. From the United States. From a president who has never hidden the fact that he considers Greenland a strategic prize and Denmark a merely annoying owner.
The Danes, of course, are not naive. They are a special kind of Europeans, luxury Europeans. With one foot in the Union and one foot out. Participation a la carte, exceptions, referendums, ultimatums, no euro, common foreign policy only when it suits them. Since the 1970s they have perfected the art of turning their small size into a negotiating weapon, extracting preferential treatment disproportionate to their geopolitical power.
The Germans, after all, had appreciated this kind of passive surrender as early as 1940 and left Denmark alone for a long time. The country was not destroyed, just as it had not been destroyed in the First World War, when it maintained strict neutrality. Thus, in its modern history, Denmark has systematically taken care to avoid major conflicts, to minimize the costs of world conflicts and to turn its geographical position into a commercial advantage.
With no war ruins, no civil conflicts and no lost generations, it has oriented itself towards shipping and global trade, created giants such as Maersk, developed a strong pharmaceutical industry led by Novo Nordisk, exploited hydrocarbons in the North Sea, invested in renewable energy sources and at the same time protected its primary production, giving it a clear export orientation. Its real advantage, however, was not innovation or any historical superiority; it was its ability to avoid fights.
Until she decided to seek them out on her own.
Prime Minister Mete Frederiksen has invested politically in fear. Not in a fear born of her country's history, but in an imported fear. She convinced the Danes that they were threatened by a non-existent invasion and was quick to join the «pro-war club», along with other useful idiots, by launching the Russian threat narrative with inflammatory statements. She seemed convinced that Putin was out to swallow her small country. That is why she argued that the war in Ukraine should never end; that Zelensky should be funded and armed indefinitely so that the Russians could stay ’busy’ and not invade the rest of Europe.
This reasoning would be just funny if it were not dangerous. For Denmark itself has no historical basis. Let us suppose that the Baltic countries have precedents with the Russians. Denmark, however, has never in its recent history «touched» the Russian nation. A traumatic experience of territorial mutilation has indeed been suffered, in 1864, at Schleswig-Holstein. Not by the Russians, but by the Prussians. In the following century it also experienced occupation. By the German Nazis. The Danes have only seen a Soviet tank in movies.
This is where the absurdity and geopolitical irony begins. Denmark's political leadership has invested in the fear of a non-existent threat and dramatically underestimated the aspirations of a powerful, supposed ally. Today the country, surprised and terrified, is sniffling and calling for European solidarity.
I'm sorry, but I won't participate in her drama. Nor will I sympathize with her. And if I were a Greenlander, I might prefer a cynical negotiator with money on the table to a political leadership that has never understood what the real threat to its country is.
I'm not moved.
I remember Denmark's attitude during the period of the Memoranda. I remember the lessons in fiscal ethics from a country outside the euro. I remember Paul Thomsen and the behaviour of a colonial surveyor.
Today Denmark, despite its weak geopolitical position and its indifferent attitude to military affairs, has a NATO secretariat that dreams of having Ukraine as another member, and may soon be able to withdraw.
In geopolitics, as in life, whoever invests in illusions pays the price. Whoever chooses the wrong enemy, usually finds him in front of him with a different face.
Denmark made its bed with fear and arrogance.
Let him sleep on it now.
As he hath made his bed, let him sleep.
