Mette Frederiksen, Denmark's prime minister, thanked Keir Starmer "from the bottom of my heart" on Wednesday for the UK's support during her country's recent confrontation with Washington over Greenland—a moment that saw the Prime Minister's studied pragmatism elevated to diplomatic philosophy.
Speaking at Chequers, where Starmer hosted her for talks on Wednesday, Frederiksen praised what she called the "British way of doing things," echoing the Prime Minister's own characterization of his approach to handling Donald Trump's territorial ambitions. "As you said, you are very pragmatic: you have a cup of tea, and then you think a bit about everything," she said, before deploying a Beatles reference that would have made Harold Wilson proud: "I think we've got to get by with a little help from our friends."
The crisis erupted when Trump repeatedly threatened to annex Greenland, Denmark's semi-autonomous territory, even suggesting military action before backing down from imposing additional 10% tariffs on British exports after intensive NATO talks in Davos on Tuesday night. The UK's position throughout remained characteristically measured—supportive of Danish sovereignty without the rhetorical flourishes that might have escalated tensions.
Starmer described Britain's response as reflecting "a mix of British pragmatism, common sense, but also that British sense of sticking to our values and our principles." It's the sort of formulation that sounds rather better than "we tried not to annoy the Americans too much whilst quietly backing our European allies," which is essentially what it means—but that's diplomacy for you.
The Chequers invitation itself carried significance. Starmer typically hosts foreign leaders in Downing Street; the Prime Minister's official country residence tends to be reserved for guests viewed as particularly special. That Frederiksen received the full Chequers treatment suggests Number 10 sees value in burnishing Britain's credentials as a reliable European partner, even as it maintains the transatlantic relationship.
As they say in Westminster, "the constitution is what happens"—precedent matters more than law. Britain's position on Greenland establishes a template for how the government intends to navigate the choppy waters between Washington and Brussels: supportive of European allies on matters of sovereignty, pragmatic about avoiding unnecessary confrontation with Trump, and rather pleased with itself for managing to have it both ways.
Frederiksen's effusive gratitude—unusual in the typically understated world of Nordic diplomacy—suggests Denmark views the UK's support as having been genuinely valuable during a tense period. Whether this translates into tangible cooperation on Arctic security or rare earth minerals, both now under discussion among NATO allies, remains to be seen.
The danger, of course, is that the "British way" works rather better when dealing with Greenland than it might when confronting more intractable challenges where fence-sitting proves impossible. But for now, Starmer can bask in the warmth of Danish appreciation and the satisfaction of having demonstrated that post-Brexit Britain can still play a meaningful role in European affairs—provided it brings the tea.
