Christian X entered history as a sovereign who refused to leave his country in the face of the German invasion. His stance during World War II made him a living symbol of Danish resistance, although his path to that role led through serious political crises and painful compromises with Parliament.
In the Shadow of Great Politics
Christian X ascended the throne in May 1912, just two years before the outbreak of World War I. Denmark was then a small nation whose prosperity depended on maintaining good trade relations with more powerful neighbors. Both the royal court and political parties understood well that involvement in an armed conflict could only bring destruction to the country.
Already in December 1914, the young monarch showed diplomatic skill by taking part in a historic meeting of the three Scandinavian kings in Malmö. Together with the rulers of Norway and Sweden, Christian X forged a united position that allowed the entire region to remain outside the theater of war. This neutrality became the foundation of Danish foreign policy for decades to come.
The end of the great war, however, brought unexpected complications. The Danes lodged claims to the province of Schleswig, which had once been lost to Germany. The plebiscite of February 1920 ended only with a partial success, but a symbolic moment arrived in July, when Christian X, riding a white horse, crossed the new border. This theatrical gesture of taking command over the regained territory entered national legend.
The King’s Crisis
Just a few months before the triumphant entry into Schleswig, Christian X made a decision that almost destroyed his position. In March 1920, without consulting Parliament, he dismissed Prime Minister Zahle, whose nationalist rhetoric threatened to drag Denmark into another border conflict. Workers’ strikes and demonstrations paralyzed the country.
Public outrage reached an unprecedented scale. The king decided on personal talks with a citizens’ delegation that resulted in compromise only in the first days of April. The price of agreement was the effective transfer of power to Parliament and the king’s irrevocable degradation to a purely representative role.
From that moment on, Christian X withdrew from direct participation in governing the country. He never again made a political decision without parliamentary approval.
Paradoxically, this forced passivity allowed him to focus on his symbolic function, which would prove invaluable in the dark times to come.
An Act of Defiance
When the Wehrmacht crossed the Danish border on April 9, 1940, capitulation came the same day. Christian X faced a decision that other European monarchs failed to make. Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands and Haakon VII of Norway chose exile to continue the struggle from abroad. The Danish king decided to stay.
Quick surrender saved the country from war devastation and allowed Denmark to maintain a semblance of sovereignty. The Germans did not abolish the monarchy nor introduce direct occupation. In this unique situation, Christian X found his own form of resistance, riding horseback daily through the streets of Copenhagen without any guards.
These rides became ritual, electrifying the city’s inhabitants. The aging monarch greeted passersby and stopped to talk with his subjects, demonstrating normalcy in a world that had ceased to be normal. Crowds greeted him enthusiastically, and each such moment strengthened the sense of national community and quiet opposition to the occupier.
The Telegram That Changed Everything
In September 1942, Hitler sent Christian X birthday greetings. The king’s reply consisted of just a few words of thanks, ending with a terse signature. The Germans considered this brevity a deliberate insult, and Hitler himself felt personally offended. No further explanations calmed Berlin’s anger.
The consequences were immediate. The Germans forced the resignation of the prime minister and replaced him with a more compliant politician. Historians still debate whether the entire incident was artificially inflamed by the Third Reich as a pretext for tightening control over Denmark.
Just a few weeks later, the king fell from his horse during his daily ride. The injury seriously limited his public activity, and his declining health never allowed him to return to former vigor. In August 1943, the Germans introduced full occupation, interning Christian X at Amalienborg Palace.
Only the capitulation of the Third Reich in May 1945 restored his freedom and allowed him to attend the ceremonial session of the reborn parliament.
Margot Cleverly
Margot's journey into women's history began with a box of forgotten letters in a Cambridge archive – suffragettes whose voices had been silenced for over a century. Since then, she's been on a mission to uncover the stories history overlooked.
What she writes about: Queens who ruled from the shadows. Scientists whose male colleagues took credit. Revolutionaries who risked everything. But also ordinary women – those who survived wars, raised families through upheaval, and shaped their communities in ways no one bothered to record.
Margot turns historical figures into real people. She writes with warmth and detail, making centuries-old stories feel surprisingly relevant. Rigorous research meets accessible storytelling – no dusty academic jargon, just compelling narratives backed by solid facts.
When she's not writing, you'll find her in regional archives, collecting oral histories, or visiting sites connected to the women she writes about.
