Luxembourg’s designated heir is escorting TIME through the royal palace’s art collection when he briefly pulls back a curtain to reveal the cobblestone square below the ornate reception hall. From the street, locals and visitors eagerly point at the man peering out in a suit and tie—a figure who today will step through the balcony doors as his country’s newest head of state, the Grand Duke Guillaume V.
As the eldest of outgoing Grand Duke Henri’s five children, Guillaume, 43, has been prepared for the role since childhood, in the world’s sole remaining Grand Duchy, a title that vanished elsewhere generations ago. In a sense, he was born with a symbolic crown on his head. (Unlike the British royal family, this one possesses no bejeweled headwear.) “I have known my entire life that this moment would arrive,” Guillaume stated in an extensive interview at the palace in late September. “I want to ensure I always maintain this connection with the people. I believe that is what a monarch in the 21st century ought to be.”
Three days of celebrations will inside Luxembourg’s small parliament, featuring music and dance concerts, a dinner for European leaders and royals, and a tour through the country by Guillaume, commencing with him walking across the city’s main bridge—perhaps the only time in his life he will do so. “The challenges I will confront during my reign are not known currently,” he said. “But I am ready to be attentive.”
If Guillaume listens, what will he hear? Amid the upheaval in Europe and globally, with assertive nationalism on the rise, and a war raging in Ukraine merely 1,200 miles from the palace, many might suggest that having a hereditary royal as their head of state offers some reassuring continuity, serving as a counterweight to political instability. His father Henri, 70, reigned for 25 years, and Guillaume is likely to reign considerably longer, since Charles, the elder of his two sons (and now heir to the throne) is only five. Remarkably, are still governed by monarchs—nearly one-third of the world’s total—many of them small nations such as Denmark and Monaco.
“European monarchies are a pillar of stability,” Guillaume noted, when asked why an ultra-modern continent adheres to seemingly outdated royalty. “We represent something that will not alter, that is rooted in tradition,” he stated. “And the more we find ourselves in a rapidly changing world, the more you sense that young people require these strong references.”
That, indeed, seems a rather widespread opinion in Luxembourg, with just 670,000 inhabitants, nearly half of whom are foreigners. Its minuscule size belies a disproportionately large global role. Sandwiched between giants France and Germany, Luxembourg is the, and approximately 15% of its residents are millionaires. More are based here than anywhere outside of New York, together managing over $1 trillion in assets, and in 2014, a significant document leak utilized Luxembourg as a tax haven. While some laws have changed, the wealth is evident even on a brief visit. There are priceless sculptures in city parks. Museums are free, and so is public transportation, including gleaming new electric trams.
Not surprisingly, there is minimal effort to retire Guillaume’s Nassau royal dynasty, of which he is the ninth generation. An August poll by the Luxembourg Times found that 48% of people favored a national referendum on whether the royals should retain their role—the last referendum on the issue was in 1919. But two-thirds said they would vote to keep the monarch. “I am a tremendous admirer” of the Royal Family, one resident to the paper.
Even so, as the matter of economic inequality propels far-left and far-right politicians across Europe, there was profound discomfort last March when the Grand Duke was Europe’s wealthiest royal, valued at about €3.7 billion ($4 billion); the royal family disputed that, saying much was state-owned. Despite a childhood spent —one of them privately owned by the family—Guillaume attended public school until 15, and he intends his children to do the same. He completed his education at an elite Swiss boarding school, before undergoing military training in Britain and studying political science there.
Guillaume mentioned he now intends to dedicate time to assisting Luxembourg’s less fortunate citizens, with activities managed partly by a he launched last month, and funded by donors. “A position like ours comes with responsibility for those for whom life is not so good,” he said. “Even in a country like Luxembourg there are people facing distress.” The monarchy’s operations, such as travel and household staff, cost taxpayers (about $25.8 million) last year.
To some politicians, that is a worthwhile expense, for which the Grand Duke increasingly serves as a traveling brand representative. “For a small nation, it is the optimal way to ensure stability, and it is more economical than presidents,” the country’s foreign minister Xavier Bettel informed TIME. In 2020 Bettel oversaw a government restructuring of the royal budget, introducing more transparent accounts after years of obscure spending.
Bettel, who served as Prime Minister for 10 years until 2023, stated he first met Guillaume when he was a teenager, and accompanied him this year to New York, Japan, and Cambodia, where they met companies and discussed trade agreements. “I can tell you when we go somewhere, I have a key,” Bettel affirmed. “But he possesses a passport that opens all the doors. It significantly simplifies matters.”
One avenue closed to the monarchy is political involvement. In 2008, a constitutional amendment stripped the Grand Duke of his political function, after Guillaume’s father Henri refused to ratify the government’s vote permitting euthanasia; the royals are devout Catholics. A situation akin to 2008 might perhaps have occurred again this year, after the government voted to enshrine abortion rights in the constitution. “We do not inquire if they concur or not,” Bettel said. “We will not face that risk again.”
In Bettel’s view, the greater risk is having no monarchy at all. “I must concede there is one aspect,” Bettel said of monarchies. “You do not get to choose. You are either fortunate or unfortunate. And we have been exceedingly fortunate.”
In preparation for today’s accession, Guillaume says he has spent time pondering how it will alter his life. “It is quite emotional,” he shared, seated beneath the large oil paintings of his ancestors. “Even though we might reside in a palace,” he remarked, “it does not imply that I cannot understand and even perceive what is occurring outside the walls.”
