Queen Paola and I will never forget the ties that have grown

Hear the tender words of Albert II of Belgium, king who once bore the weight of crown and nation, who declared at the end of his reign: “Queen Paola and I will never forget the ties that have grown between the people and us during the course of the years. Thank you for your confidence, tokens of sympathy and support, sometimes even with a little criticism. We always loved you.” These words, spoken in humility, are not the boast of power but the farewell of a servant, who knows that the bond between ruler and people is not forged of laws alone, but of trust, affection, and shared struggle.

The meaning of his words is rooted in the sacred relationship between the governed and the governing. A king may wear a crown, but without the confidence of the people, that crown is no more than an empty ornament. Albert II acknowledges this truth, thanking his people not only for their loyalty, but even for their criticism, for he recognized that honest voices keep a leader grounded in reality. His gratitude for tokens of sympathy and support reveals that kings, too, are human, in need of encouragement, strengthened by the love of their people. And in saying, “We always loved you,” he reminds us that true leadership flows not from domination, but from affection and service.

The ancients understood this balance. Consider Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome, who in his Meditations wrote that a ruler must always think of the people’s welfare, not his own glory. He knew that the bond between emperor and citizen was fragile, woven not by fear but by trust. When he endured plague and war, he, like Albert II, depended upon the faith of his people to carry him through. Without sympathy and support, no empire, no kingdom, no republic can endure.

History also offers the tale of George Washington, who at the close of his presidency gave a farewell address filled not with triumph but with gratitude and humility. He, too, thanked his countrymen for their trust and allowed for their criticisms, recognizing that the love between a leader and his people must be reciprocal. Washington could have clung to power, but he chose instead to return to private life, his legacy strengthened by his willingness to step down with grace. So, too, did Albert II, who abdicated in 2013, placing the crown upon his son, King Philippe, and offering not command but affection in his final words.

The lesson for us is profound: leadership is not about perfection, but about relationship. To hold power is not to be above reproach, but to walk in constant dialogue with those one serves. The people must give confidence and, at times, criticism; the ruler must respond with humility, gratitude, and love. And in this exchange, a bond is forged stronger than law or decree: the bond of trust, which sustains nations through both triumph and trial.

Practical action follows: whether you lead a family, a team, or a community, cultivate these same virtues. Do not reject criticism, but welcome it as proof that people care enough to speak. Offer gratitude for the smallest tokens of sympathy, for they are signs of loyalty. Above all, let love guide your leadership, for authority without affection is tyranny, but authority with affection becomes service, and service is the noblest crown a person may wear.

So let the farewell of Albert II echo beyond Belgium. His reign may have ended, but his words endure as a teaching: “We always loved you.” Here is the secret of true leadership: not to be adored without question, but to be bound to the people in mutual trust, affection, and truth. May all who hold power remember this lesson, and may we, whether rulers or ruled, strive always to strengthen the ties of sympathy and love that bind us together.