17 May bears special meaning to all Norwegians. Of course, why shouldn’t it? It is, after all, our Constitution Day, which we tend to celebrate perhaps a little more than what is considered normal in most countries. Which again is to do with the mere fact that we’re convinced we have so much more to be proud of than anywhere else on the planet – a conviction we set out to reinforce every 17 May, by way of much pomp and elaborate circumstance, even in the smallest communities, such as our own.
Our daughter (centre in pink and white) and friends rehearsing for 17 May. Photo by Malin P.
The above picture shows our local school band, leading the kindergarten’s 17 May rehearsal Friday afternoon. On the very day itself they’ll join forces with the other schools, kindergartens, clubs and associations in the local community, in joint commemoration of the 17 May 1814, at which date our constitution was signed by a selection of the country’s prominent and upstanding men.
In line with our usual self-perception, we like to think that most countries envy us our particular brand of Constitution Day patriotism, heavily focused on the country’s future: Sound, healthy, happy and Nordic children, a not too subtle representation of our future force, endeavours and untarnished proliferation – as opposed to some other countries’ all-too obvious display of splendour already achieved.
Georgian soldiers on a military parade during the Indepedence Day celebration, 26 May 2008. Photographer: Kober/Wikimedia Commons
You will of course appreciate that “untarnished proliferation” entails certain challenges, already demonstrated through intense and recurring discussions over the last decade or so: Whether or not children of foreign lineage should be allowed to carry their ancestral flags. Even Sàmi families have met massive resistance in their attempts at using one of the country’s official flags, namely the Sàmi flag.
How can we not regard foreign flags – any foreign flag – a greeting to our “great nation” from admiring countries, near and far? And wouldn’t it signify an acknowledgement of our place in the world, rather than glorifying ourselves – and everything that is us?
You could of course argue that, being a European federalist, I take our smug patriotism up in its worst meaning, and you could be right, for all I know. But I do know that, as father of a child partaking in tomorrow’s local procession, I’m probably expected to join in. Unfortunately, though, I do not have a European flag at hand.
I’ll be carrying one – in spirit.
Oh by the way, there’s a distinct possibility that I may have misinformed you in claiming that our Constitution Day is all about the children. Here are His Majesty the King’s Guards, on 17 May last year:
One can only hope that tonight’s European Song Contest finals produce a victor from anywhere but Norway, or tomorrow we’ll be downright insufferable. As usual, though, we have every confidence in Norwegian victory – or else we just wouldn’t be our usual infallible selves.
Top photo: Our local school band rehearsing for 17 May. Photo taken by Malin P. (the blogger’s wife).
My prayers remain unanswered, it would seem, as Norway indeed won last night’s Eurovision Song Contest final — by an unprecedentet landslide, I’m afraid.
If you plan to visit our country this year, you will probably need to brace yourself for massive exposure to this (a recording from the semi finals the other day):
I fear we’re in for a year of insufferable Norwegian self-confidence, though — especially on this very day; the above mentioned Constitution Day. If it hadn’t been for a hopeful daughter, brimming with expectations, this would be an excellent day for staying home.