The enthusiastic celebrations of Norway's Viking heritage by its football fans and players stand in stark contrast to what the author describes as a hesitant and often shame-laden approach to history in Britain.
During recent international football matches, Norwegian fans have been widely noted for their celebrations, which often include elements of Viking iconography. This includes a popular stadium tradition known as the "Viking Row," a synchronized cheer mimicking Viking warriors rowing longships, which gained prominence after Norway qualified for the World Cup finals for the first time since 1998. The team itself has also engaged with this theme, with official photos showing players in attire reminiscent of Norse warriors on a fjord. While these images have sparked some debate, with one journalist labeling them "chauvinistic and exclusionary," the prevailing sentiment in Norway appears to be one of national togetherness and lighthearted fun.
The author suggests that Norway's comfortable embrace of its Viking past, a history involving significant violence, raiding, and conquest, highlights a broader difference in how nations engage with their historical narratives. This is contrasted with Britain, where, according to the author, institutions and public discourse often treat the past as a source of shame, leading to "hand-wringing, self-flagellation and endless apology."
This sentiment is exemplified by the author's observation that political figures in Britain have historically been cautious about displaying national symbols, citing an instance where the St. George's flag was reportedly not flown at Downing Street until later stages of a World Cup, due to concerns about its association with a "toxic relic of our colonial past" among some political groups.
The historical reality of the Vikings, as described in the notes, includes acts of extreme brutality, such as the raid on Lindisfarne in 793 AD, which involved widespread killing, looting, and enslavement. The author points out the inherent contradiction in celebrating a heritage that includes such violence, noting how Viking warriors gave themselves names like "Erik Bloodaxe" and "Thorfinn Skullsplitter," and how their raids threatened Christian civilization.
The article further contrasts approaches to national maritime history, noting the Norwegian Maritime Museum's straightforward presentation of its seafaring past, including Viking boat-building, with the British National Maritime Museum's perceived emphasis on "relevance" and "breast-beating," often linking historical events to contemporary social issues. The author criticizes what they see as a tendency among some British progressives to focus solely on the negative aspects of the nation's history, such as the slave trade, while downplaying contributions like Britain's role in its abolition and the Royal Navy's efforts to combat slave ships.
This critical perspective on British history is attributed, in part, to the social backgrounds of progressive elites, who are seen as over-represented in institutions that promote national self-recrimination. The author quotes George Orwell, who in 1941 observed that "England is perhaps the only great country whose intellectuals are ashamed of their own nationality." The piece suggests that this impulse to "atone" may stem from a disconnect from the historical realities of ordinary people and a desire among elites to adhere to a particular narrative.
Ultimately, the article advocates for a recalibration in how Britain views its past, suggesting that, like Norway and other nations, it should find a way to celebrate its history and virtues without succumbing to what is described as an excessive focus on guilt and apology. The author concludes with a call to embrace national pride, urging a departure from "sackcloth-and-ashes" approach to history and to look at the past through the eyes of those who lived it, acknowledging different historical contexts.