Two Rookie MPs Expelled and Left Alone Overnight

Irina

March 31, 2026
3:19 pm

Two newly elected Danish MPs became independents within days of the 2026 election after being expelled from their parties. Without party backing, these political rookies face steep challenges navigating Christiansborg while the fragmented parliament demands more cross-party dealmaking than ever.

Jacob Harris and Cecilie Liv Hansen made it into parliament on March 24. By the weekend, both were out of their parties. Harris, elected for Borgernes Parti, was expelled after seeking leave amid unspecified allegations. Hansen, a Liberal Alliance newcomer, was kicked out after the party accused her of dishonesty about rumors that her boyfriend sold drugs.

Now they are on their own. No party group to back them up. No experienced colleagues to show them the ropes. Just two seats in a 179-member chamber where political survival depends on knowing who to talk to and when.

Learning Politics Without a Safety Net

Most new MPs struggle to find their footing at Christiansborg. For independents, that learning curve becomes a cliff. Karina Kosiara-Pedersen, a lecturer at Copenhagen University who researches political participation, says the two expelled members are starting from scratch without the infrastructure that makes parliament function.

Parties divide labor through spokesperson roles. Not every MP needs to master every policy area. Someone handles health. Someone else takes education. The system lets members specialize. Independents cannot do that, Kosiara-Pedersen told P1 Morgen. They have to figure everything out themselves.

Harris and Hansen are untested. They have no obvious expertise to leverage. They lack training in negotiation and parliamentary procedure. That puts them behind from day one, she says.

Money, Staff, and Influence

Independents do receive group support funding from parliament. In 2026, that means 58,449 kroner monthly plus up to 23,239 kroner for expert assistance. Last year, independent MPs received between 226,000 and 905,000 kroner depending on how long they held their seats and what expert help they needed.

The money helps. It pays for advisors, press staff, and member secretaries. But it does not buy political capital. That comes from relationships, from knowing which ministers will take your call, from having allies who trust you to deliver votes when it counts.

Independents who want influence must find niche issues and become specialists, Kosiara-Pedersen says. Pick your battles. Build expertise where others are not looking. When Jacob Haugaard entered parliament as an independent in 1994, he looked around, figured out who he agreed with most, and voted with them on everything else.

Haugaard proved an independent can make a difference. In 1997, he secured ten million kroner for alcohol treatment and another ten million for theatres in the budget negotiations. But Haugaard was a unique case. He ran as a satirical candidate and won more than 23,000 votes. Harris and Hansen were party soldiers until last weekend.

Bad Timing for Democracy

The 2026 election delivered almost perfect gender balance in parliament. Women now hold close to half the seats. Voter turnout was strong. The result shows a democracy that works, even as geopolitical tensions and economic pressures mount across Europe.

But two independents in one weekend sends a different message. It suggests parties cannot hold themselves together. It raises questions about vetting and internal discipline. Kosiara-Pedersen puts it plainly: this is not good for trust in politicians or the system overall.

Since 1945, only two independents have been elected directly to parliament. Everyone else became independent after leaving or getting expelled from their parties. The current government has shown it can manage minority rule through cross-party agreements. Between December 15, 2022, and February 19, 2026, the SVM coalition struck 230 political deals. Of those, 207 involved parties from both sides of the political center.

That pattern will likely continue. A fragmented parliament needs constant negotiation. Dansk Erhverv, the employers’ confederation, has already called on the new Folketinget to focus on business conditions, pushing for corporate tax cuts to 19 percent and a flat 27 percent capital gains tax. The organization wants investments in research, education, and defense as Denmark faces tougher international competition.

Independent MPs could matter in these negotiations. Every vote counts when majorities are thin. But Harris and Hansen must first figure out how to do the job. They have no mentors. No party whip to guide them through procedure. No strategy meetings where experienced hands war-game the next budget fight.

First-term MPs earn just over 91,600 kroner monthly. That is decent money. But parliament is not just a job. It is a political ecosystem where alliances, favors, and institutional knowledge determine who gets heard and who gets ignored. Harris and Hansen are starting from the outside.

The two new independents have no legal obligations beyond the basics: legislate, represent constituents, and hold the government accountable. But fulfilling those duties without party support means doing everything the hard way. It means reading every bill alone. Attending every committee meeting without backup. Deciding on amendments without a caucus to sound out ideas.

I have watched Danish politics long enough to know that lone wolves rarely thrive at Christiansborg. The system rewards teamwork. It punishes isolation. Harris and Hansen may find their voices on specific issues. They may carve out roles as honest brokers on controversial votes. Or they may spend four years on the margins, learning what their former colleagues already knew: in Danish politics, the party is the platform.