It was the colours on the ‘vimpel’ I noticed — they were Icelandic. ‘Vimpel’ is the Danish word for a long triangular flag flown on flagpoles. It’s decorative and also shows the wind direction. But why was there an Icelandic one flying outside this building?
We had just arrived at Østerport Station on the ‘Kystbane’ train. Danes like a good moan as much as anyone else, and they do complain a lot about this line. Personally, I think it’s brilliant. It runs the length of the coast from Helsingør (or Elsinore) to Copenhagen city centre, and beyond. There’s a minimum of three an hour, sometimes more. Since the advent of ‘The Bridge’ you can actually travel pretty far into Sweden on some of the trains. Yes, there are sometimes delays, but to be honest, Danes don’t know how good their railways really are.
Anyway, on this benign September morning, we’re strolling in the direction of the National Museum for Art when Icelandic colours catch my eye. And as usual, curiosity gets the better of us and we make a short detour.
As we get closer, the plaques on the house reveal all. My Reykjavik-born wife translates the Icelandic inscriptions. Turns out, this was ‘Jón Sigurðsson House’ or ‘Jónshús’. Now owned and run by the Icelandic parliament, it was once the home of Sigurðsson, the leader of the Icelandic campaign for self-determination in the 19th century. So important was he to the struggle that Iceland’s national day marks the date of his birth in 1811 — June 17.
“My mother was a member of an Icelandic society here in Denmark,” my wife comments. “They used to meet in town. I wonder if it was here?” It was indeed, here. The modest building is both museum, cultural centre, and even offers accommodation for visiting Icelandic students.
For all his many years in Denmark, Jón Sigurðsson was an Icelandic patriot and firm believer in the cause of Icelandic independence. In the year of his birth (1811) Iceland was, as Norway, under the control of the Danish crown — an absolute monarchy until 1849. The site visiticeland.com informs us that, “The idea of nationalism swept through Europe at the time, and inspired a group of Icelandic students in Copenhagen to define the case of Iceland.”
But here comes a really interesting bit. I quote: “The nation spoke its own language, lived within a territory marked by clear boarders, and was once a free state.” Remind you of anything?
In some ways, these Icelanders were the 19th century equivalent of Salvo and the SSRG, the Scottish Sovereignty Research Group.
Now, if you listened to Norrie Hunter’s interview with Professor Baird from a few weeks ago, Alf touched on the topic of ‘civic nationalism’ and national identity..
“Civic nationalism is really defined as people from other countries having a sense of belonging to another country,” Alf said. “That’s all very well,” he continued, “but people who vote no, who come from other countries into Scotland, and a lot of them that came from, say, south of the border, as well as other countries, voted against our self determination, they voted against our liberation. So they don’t have a sense of belonging to, necessarily, to Scotland.”
These are hugely important considerations when determining the voter franchise in our nation.
Clearly those Icelandic students in the 19th century had no sense of belonging to Denmark. They were certainly not what we might call ‘Unionists’.
My wife hasn’t lived in Iceland since she was nine years old, but if you press her, she identifies as Icelandic. Neither of her two passports are from the land of her birth (nationality followed the father in those days) but she still speaks the language, which is, after all, her ain mither tongue. Her late mother, who spent most of her adult life living outside Iceland, always identified as Icelandic, too. ‘Oh, but if you live in Denmark you’re a Dane,’ said no one, ever.
It’s only in Scotland, apparently, where we insist that anyone crossing the border is one of us. It’s idealistic claptrap in my opinion, not to mention a bit of an assumption to make about people who may arrive in our country for any number of reasons, but who don’t particularly want to identify as Scottish. Most people arrive with their own national identity. Why can’t we just accept and respect that? And in return ask them to accept ours. As Alf pointed out to Norrie, “a majority of those from other countries did not identify with Scotland at all, in 2014.” It stands to reason, that if they had, they wouldn’t have voted against our independence and the right to become citizens of our independent Scotland.
Sigurðsson was just 22-years-old when he sailed to the colonial capital, in 1833. He enrolled at the University of Copenhagen the year after. By the “mid-nineteenth century he launched the Icelanders’ peaceful campaign for emancipation from Danish rule, and for political and economic autonomy. In his day, he was the unquestioned leader of the Icelandic nation.” His political activism began by writing about Icelandic affairs in the press.
A fascinating development, around this time, was the re-establishment of the ancient Icelandic national assembly or ‘parliament’ — the Alting. It is said to have been founded around 930 AD, not long after the settlement of the country. With Iceland under foreign rule from the 13th century, the Alting functioned only as a court of law. It was actually ‘abolished’ in 1800, and replaced by a new High Court.
However, by the 1840s the “Icelanders were calling for their Alting to be re-established, and Jón Sigurðsson was among the supporters of this step towards democracy. The Alting was re-established in 1844. I’m not sure if he said, ‘The Icelandic Alting, which was adjourned in the year 1380, is hereby reconvened,’ but he might have. When it was up and running again it was only an ‘advisory body’ to the king of Denmark and Iceland. But it was a start.
Once again, those familiar with the work of Salvo and the SSRG may see some parallels here. Especially with Salvo, who are ‘excavating’ the history of our own ancient constitution and of our historic institutions of governance.
In the first parliamentary elections to the Alting, Sigurðsson was a candidate in his home region. He wasn’t able to travel home to Iceland to campaign for election, but he won a convincing victory. He was a member of parliament for the district for the rest of his life.
Icelandic independence took inspiration from the European movements of the day. There was a new sense of national consciousness and Jon Sigurðsson along with academics and poets, many educated in Copenhagen, were the vanguard of the movement.
Icelanders talk about the ‘struggle for independence’. In the mid-19th century (1851) the Danes “tried to pass new legislation which ignored the comments and requests made by the Icelanders”. Icelandic delegates, under the leadership of Jón Sigurðsson, passed their own proposal. This annoyed the colonial power who shut down the Icelanders’ debate. This was met by protests and resistance. Unlike Scotland, though, no one backed down just because the colonial parliament said ‘no’.
Independence took a few generations, but each milestone was gradually achieved. A national constitution in 1874. Home rule in 1904. Sovereignty status in 1918, and finally, the declaration of the republic in 1944. This only happened because Iceland was dealing with Copenhagen, not London — with Denmark, not with Perfidious Albion. It’s ironic that Copenhagen, where the movement began, was Iceland’s capital no more.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you revoke a political and personal union.
It’s amazing what you stumble across on a Sunday morning detour, en route to breakfast at a wee gluten-free, Parisian-style cafe!
When Jon Sigurðsson began his independence activism the population of Iceland was just under 60,000. By the time it gained full sovereignty (in 1918) the population was almost 100,000. Yet, ‘too wee and too poor to be independent’, said no one on Iceland, ever.
Back with Norrie and Alf, the question was asked: “But over the generations, do people not then become part of that national character?”
“Of course, after several generations, hundreds of years, maybe, they become part of that,” replied Alf. “But people coming in the last 10-20 years, remember, culture is a very, very difficult thing to change. You’ve said yourself that our Scottish culture stays with us, even though we’re not taught the language.”
Jon Sigurðsson, who spent most of his life in Denmark, certainly never lost his national identity. He never longed for the ‘best of both worlds’, he never despised his own culture or minority language, or spoke about being ‘better together’. There was no ‘Icelandic cringe’. Occupation, and being ruled from a foreign capital, was anathema to him an his fellow nationalists. His tiny nation was, and is, populated by genuine brave hearts, not the 90-minute ‘Flower of Scotland’ patriots so common among our people.
So, if you’re ever in Copenhagen and visit the National Art Museum or the nearby Botanical Gardens, walk a little further along to Øster Voldgade 12 and you’ll see the Icelandic colours fluttering in the breeze. This was the exile home of an Icelandic patriot and freedom fighter, who helped win a David-and-Goliath struggle against a colonial power. He and his fellow nationalists should be an inspiration to every Scot.
JónsHús — is open Thursday to Friday between 11-17 and on Saturday and Sunday from 10-16. For more info, see: jónshús.dk
peteryoung.dk 