Journal articles on the topic 'Socialism – Denmark'

Lars Schreiber Pedersen: The Führer from Lendum In writer Erik Aalbæk Jensen’s well-known homeland novel from Vendsyssel Perleporten (The Pearl Gate) from 1964, the figure “Kratholmmanden” (the Kratholm man), is a local farm owner and Nazi leader, who with mixed success tries to win his local area’s residents over to the cause of National Socialism. Erik Aalbæk Jensen’s “Kratholmmand” character was based on Christian Mikkelstrup. During 1934–44, Mikkelstrup was a member of the National Socialist Workers’ Party of Denmark (DNSAP) and from 1935–44 he functioned as the party leader in Horns Herred in north east Vendsyssel. Despite his passionate engagement for the cause during his 10 years in the service of the party, Mikkelstrup was only able to convince a few local residents about the joy of National Socialism. DNSAP never gained any importance in north east Vendsyssel. The local party division in Lendum, which held its meetings in Mikkelstrup’s home, numbered 20–25 members at its height. Mikkelstrup was not solely to blame for the lack of support for the party in his local area. Both he and his fellow believers fought a battle that was impossible to win. The majority of local residents, like the rest of Denmark, at no point wanted to know about DNSAP – which the county council elections in 1935 and the national elections in 1935, 1939 and 1943 clearly showed – and even a leader with a bigger profile than Mikkelstrup, who was neither much of a writer or a speaker, would hardly be likely to attract more members to the party from the region. Together with a number of dissatisfied DNSAP members, he left the party in 1944 and joined the newly-formed Nazi party “Dansk National Samling”, in which however, he did not make much of an impact. With the Liberation of Denmark in May 1945, he was arrested by the resistance movement and was subsequently found guilty of passing on information to the German Security Service (Sicherheitsdienst), which had been based in Aalborg during the occupation. He received a sentence of 18 months imprisonment. He stayed faithful to his National Socialist beliefs after the war but after his release from the prison camp at Kragskovhede in August 1946, he devoted his work to running his farm at Lendum in Vendsyssel. Christian Mikkelstrup died in 1971.

Globalisasi dan neoliberalisasi ekonomi ditandai dengan semakin dominannya praktik ekonomi kapitalisme lintas batas negara. Pada fase ini terjadi intensifikasi proses industrialisasi sejalan dengan semakin terbukanya arus perdagangan dan investasi global. Hal ini pada kenyataanya menghasilkan dampak negatif, kecenderungan mengejar pertumbuhan dan keuntungan ekonomi mengakibatkan negara mengabaikan prinsip paling dasar dalam perekonomian yaitu kesejahteraan masyarakat. Faktanya dewasa ini distribusi kekayaan cenderung tidak berimbang yang mana kontrol ekonomi terbesar justru berada pada sebagian kecil kelompok masyarakat, sementara sebagian besar kelompok masyarakat lainnya cenderung termarjinalkan. Demokrasi ekonomi merupakan konsep alternatif terhadap perkembangan ekonomi modern. Bahwa perhatian utama adalah terciptanya kesetaraan ekonomi bagi seluruh masyarakat. Konsep ini menjadi moderasi bagi perdebatan kapitalisme dan sosialisme, bahwa keterlibatan negara harus dilakukan dalam derajat tertentu guna menanggulangi dampak negatif perkembangan kapitalisme modern. Salah satu bentuk implementasi konsepsi ini adalah model ekonomi di negara-negara Nordik. Negara-negara ini memiliki tingkat kesetaraan dan kesejahteraan ekonomi tertinggi melalui adanya sistem pengeluaran negara yang berfokus terhadap aspek sosial masyarakatnya. Salah satu wujud keberhasilan model ekonomi ini dapat dilihat di Denmark yang mana pemerintah melakukan pembiayaan terhadap seluruh kebutuhan sosial masyarakat seperti kesehatan dan pendidikan melalui sistem pajak dan pembiayaan secara kolektif.Kata-kata Kunci: Demokrasi Ekonomi, Nordik, Denmark, Kapitalisme, KesejahteraanGlobalization and economic neoliberalism in practice are commonly associated with thick capitalism in the domestic economy realm. In this phase, the intensification of the industrialization process took place with the increasing issuance of global trade and investment flows. This process produces a negative impact when it pursues economic growth, and economic benefits enhancement sets aside equality as the basic foundation of economic development. More than that, in the modern economy, only a small portion of the community controls the whole economic process, while most other community groups are marginalized. Economic Democracy is an alternative concept for the development of the modern economy. This concept argues that the economy should focus on the creation of economic equality for the whole community. This concept becomes a moderation for the debate between capitalism and socialism. Economic Democracy requires the state’s involvement to a certain degree to overcome the negative impact of modern capitalism development. One form of implementation of this conception is the Nordik model of the economy. The Nordic countries have the highest equality and economic prosperity through a high social expenditure for their society. One form of success of this economic model is paramount in Denmark, where the government finances all community social needs such as health and education through the tax system and collective financing.Keywords: Economic Democracy, Nordic, Denmark, Capitalism, Welfare

Romantic culture, far from only being an intellectual phenomenon, was a pivotal element in the 19th-century nation-building processes experienced in Europe, and it ended up influencing and being influenced by contemporary political events. The wars waged between Denmark and the German Confederation (1848-1864) are a foremost example of it, as the political claims for the control of the duchies of Schleswig, Holstein and Lauenburg intertwined with the intellectual polemics between some prominent German scholars (Jacob Grimm, Karl Müllenhoff etc.) who intended to prove the German nature of the duchies’ cultural heritage and of Scandinavian cultures in general, and some Danish intellectuals (Nicolai Grundtvig, Rasmus Rask etc.) who strove to undo what they perceived as a politically-charged cultural aggression. The relevance of the Schleswig Wars and their related intellectual debate is not restricted to 19th-century studies, as some authors of the second half of the 20th century have suggested that the German-Danish intellectual conflict over the heritage of the Old North was actually a prelude to what would eventually be Nazi Germany’s totalitarian ideology. Unfortunately, little has been written so far on the relationship between the Schleswig Wars and the then-contemporary scholarly debate. This article is intended to be an effective contribution in this direction.

This article examines the relationship between conspiracy theories and antisemitism by posing the question of whether conspiracism is an inseparable and integrated part of national socialist antisemitism or a marginalised, extremist position even within such settings. An analysis of two Danish national-socialist journals, Kamptegnet and National-Socialisten, demonstrates how the introduction of stigmatised knowledge in the form of anti-Masonic conspiracy theories and the myth of ritual murder led to an antisemitic escalation process in Kamptegnet, imbuing antisemitism with a redemptive character during the Second World War. Antisemitic conspiracy theories, on the other hand, played a relatively marginal role in National-Socialisten, where aspects that enjoyed promotion in Germany were downplayed for tactical reasons. While antisemitism in National-Socialisten primarily played a role in caricatures and as a bizarre form of entertainment, an escalation can also be observed here as a consequence of the progression of the war and the intensified German propaganda effort.

A Manifesto in Danish has to deal with the Mother tongue and attack the Fatherland: Some preliminary studies about art and language presented from the point of view of the history of literature:The study follows five lines of reasoning: The first deals with the impossibility of formulating a manifesto in general; the impossibility of advocating the use of violence and on the other hand the impossibility of using dialogue. So the system of prescriptions and promises normally used in a manifesto no longer have sense.The next line of reasoning concerns the impossibility of presenting fictional preoccupations in the mass media and explaining why literature in Danish has to deal with its contents and form outside the current commentary and celebration hosted by the mass media. In this second line the Vico legacy is introduced to explain a conflict in Danish literature concerning its lack of an epic centre of historical and aesthetical understanding. Benjamin’s defence of the epicity in the work of Brecht is similarly discussed in this second part of the study. The third line of reasoning is presenting some older investigations on Danish prose into this question of what an epic dimension in the residual Danish culture might have been about in the last century. But all the investigations presented failed to get to the point. The point of dissidence was too weak and the point of national-socialism too clever to be manifest: It could easily hide behind the general cover up of theological aesthetics dominating Lutheran Denmark.So the fourth line of reasoning deals with political theology as a sort of interiorised state of mind in Denmark.The fifth line of reasoning presents two examples of something radically different and rather excluded in the political culture of Denmark: The Danish Council of Freedom (Danmarks Frihedsråd) during WWII which failed when it came to attacking the collaboration between Danish democracy and the Third Reich; and the Danish School of Writing (Forfatterskolen) which has been attacked by the local establishment since it was born 25 years ago.

In October 2012 the Danish Socialist People's Party chose Annette Vilhelmsen as its leader. With her ascension to power, women simultaneously headed all three of Denmark's governing parties for the first time. Though an exclusively female-led coalition government remains exceptional, in developed democracies the number of female prime ministers and party leaders has grown in recent years. Since 2000, women have governed in Denmark, Germany, Finland, Iceland, New Zealand, and Australia and have commanded coalition partner parties in Austria, Ireland, and Sweden. Just as there are now more female leaders, governments are also nominating more women to cabinets than ever before. Women recently held half of all ministerial posts in Finland, Iceland, Sweden, and Spain. Female ministers are also serving in high-prestige portfolios from which they were traditionally excluded, including finance and foreign affairs.

Abstract This article tells the story of an organization based in Copenhagen, Denmark, which supported the Liberation struggle in the Third World from 1969 until April 1989. It focus on the support to the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (pflp). The story is told in a historical and global context. The text explains the strategy and tactic behind the support-work. It explains how the different forms of solidarity work developed over two decades (for a more detailed account of the history of the group, see Kuhn, 2014). Finally, the article offers an evaluation of the past and a perspective on the future struggle for a socialist Palestine.

This article takes a historical view on Marx’s anniversary: It analyses how Marx’s centenary (5 May 1918) was reflected in the media and socialist thought. 1918 not just marked Marx’s 100th anniversary but was also the year in which the First World War ended. It was the year that saw the immediate aftermath of the Russian Revolution and the start of the Russian Civil War, the end of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; the formation of the Weimar Republic, Austria’s First Republic, the Czech Republic, the Hungarian Republic, the Second Polish Republic; the founding of the Communist Party of Germany (KPD), and the independence of Iceland from Denmark. The cultural forms, in which Marx’s centenary was reflected in 1918, included press articles, essays, speeches, rallies, demonstrations, music, and banners. The communists as well as left-wing socialists of the day saw themselves in the tradition of Marx, whereas revisionist social democrats based their politics on a criticism or revised reading of Marx. This difference resulted in different readings of Marx.

Abstract: The couriers of revolution: Estonian Bolshevik émigrés in Copenhagen 1918–1921 The history of the early twentieth-century Estonian left-wing radicalism has remained a relatively neglected field in the post-1991 period; not least due to its previous institutional role as the most favoured, but also the most highly politicised subject of historical research in Soviet Estonia. This state of affairs resulted in voluminous scholarship in “party history” produced over the decades following World War II, but its findings and conclusions are almost entirely untrustworthy and thoroughly biased in favour of Soviet-style Communism. In the last five years, however, the history of the Estonian left has attracted new attention on part of both younger scholars and senior academics – a highly positive development in light of the major role that left-wing ideas and movements have played in Estonian history from the 1905 Russian revolution onwards. Nevertheless, this newer research has the somewhat thankless task of having to re-examine the fundamentals without being able to rely on previous scholarship, which perhaps understandably limits its ability to generalise or to draw overarching conclusions. The present article is a contribution to this burgeoning field in Estonian historical research, engaging with the little-studied history of Estonian left-wing radicalism in Western Europe (rather than in Estonia or in Soviet Russia). I am particularly focusing on four individuals among émigré Estonians in Copenhagen, Denmark: August Lossmann (1890–?), Oskar Lenk (1890–1919), Johannes Rumessen (1888–?) and Harald Triikman (1892–1964). The primary period of study is 1918–22, although reference will be made to both earlier and later years where appropriate. The study makes use of both Estonian and foreign archival materials, contemporary newspapers and, occasionally, published scholarship. While my focus is on tracing and contextualising the activities and involvement of these four young men in both Danish and Estonian radical leftist circles, I will also propose some preliminary hypotheses relating to the radicalisation process of left-wing Estonian émigrés more generally, which in the future can hopefully be tested on a broader range of comparable subjects. Firstly, I would suggest that the Bolshevik Russian revolution (the October Revolution) was likely a pivotal moment in the development of their views: having been the supporters of Socialist Russian revolution, the Estonian émigrés tended to distance themselves from the more sceptical Social Democratic parties of their countries of residence in its aftermath, instead moving closer to Left Socialist or Communist parties that fully embraced the new revolution. Furthermore, their distance from and relative ignorance of Estonian affairs probably left them more open to contemporary Bolshevik propaganda, which among other things depicted the Estonian War of Independence (1918–19) as a struggle between an alliance of foreign capital and the Estonian bourgeoisie on the one hand, and the Estonian proletariat on the other. In the case of Lossmann, Lenk, Rumessen and Triikman, they were all connected to one Estonian Socialist (or Bolshevik) Group, established in 1918 and affiliated with the Danish Socialist Labour Party – the first openly Bolshevik party in Denmark. This Estonian group was headed by the remarkably well-respected Socialist Oskar Lenk, who in early 1919 was expulsed from Denmark due to his involvement in Bolshevik activities (among other things, working from the Copenhagen bureau of ROSTA, the Soviet Russian news propaganda agency). Later, he was active in Russia as a fairly prominent activist of the Estonian Communist Party, before being killed in a battle against the Whites in the autumn of the same year. Lenk’s influence in 1918 was likely of formative importance for his comrades in Copenhagen, at least one of whom (Johannes Rumessen) also became involved in the underground transport and intelligence network of the Estonian Communist Party in 1919–20.

Abstract Introducing life and work of Janina Katz, the article undertakes an analysis and interpretation of her second novel, the autofictional Putska. Born on the second of March 1939, Katz belonged to a renowned Jewish family with numerous members, of whom, however, only her mother and she survived the Second World War. Their extraordinary family history may be traced in practically all of Katz’ writings, as can her Jewish cultural heritage. The novel Putska is no exception. Its composition, characters and the image it gives of life in Cracow are examined in order to make understandable the protagonist’s decision to exile herself from Poland and migrate to Denmark, much like the author herself. 1969, having fled from that revival of anti-Semite harassment which was launched by the political leadership of socialist Poland, Katz was granted asylum in Denmark, where she soon learned the language to a perfection which enabled her to unfold a widely acknowledged literary work which does not cease to speak of her unique life experience. Central perspectives on her life and work include migration, autobiography, Jewishness and social and cultural history of Poland.

The goal of this research consists in examination of current defense policy of Nordic countries associated with geopolitical activity in the Arctic, as well as the potential role of NATO and the European Union thereof. This goal is specified on the example of defense policy of Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden and Finland. An overview is conducted on the role of defense policy of each state within the overall strategic picture of Nordic countries, as well as framework documents. Assessment is given to the defense plans of each aforementioned state. All Nordic countries along with Euro-Atlantic security institutions showed interest in the Arctic. Current risks in the area of security noticeably differ from those existed during the Cold war; each of the Nordic countries encourages the interested parties to responsible economic and political behavior. The article explores defense strategies of the countries that always belonged to the capitalist socioeconomic formation and had no socialist experience, although in the XX century, the island monarchies of Norway, Sweden and Denmark were able to implement most advanced accomplishments of social and technical thought and achieve extraordinary living standards and utmost level of social security for their citizens. Russia has vested interest in the Arctic region substantiated by the historical, cultural, geopolitical, and even pure geographical reasons. This justifies both, competition and cooperation with Nordic countries, which organically fit in the Western civilization.

The Socialist International (SI), the worldwide forum of the socialist, social democratic, and labor parties, actively looked for a solution to the Jewish-Palestinian conflict in the 1980s. At that time, the Israeli Labour Party still was the leading political force in Israel, as it had been historically since the foundation of the country. The Labour Party was also an active member of the SI. The Party’s leader, Shimon Peres, was one of its vice-presidents. At the same time, the social democratic parties were the leading political force in Western Europe. Several important European leaders, many of them presidents and prime ministers, were involved in the SI’s work. They included personalities such as Willy Brandt of Germany; former president of the SI, Francois Mitterrand of France; James Callaghan of Great Britain; Bruno Kreisky of Austria; Bettini Craxi of Italy; Felipe Gonzalez of Spain; Mario Soares of Portugal; Joop de Uyl of the Netherlands; Olof Palme of Sweden; Kalevi Sorsa of Finland; Anker Jörgensen of Denmark; and Gro Harlem Brudtland of Norway—all of whom are former vice-presidents of the SI. As a result, in the 1980s, the SI in many ways represented Europe in global affairs, despite the existence of the European Community (which did not yet have well-defined common foreign policy objectives).

This article investigates two interlinked sites of Scandinavian socialist internationalism in continental Europe: the Nordic folk high school in Geneva and the humanistic centre created by French philosopher Paul Desjardins in Pontigny. Locating and situating these two nodes on the cultural-political map of late interwar Europe allows for a study of how actors from the popular movements in Denmark, Norway and Sweden mobilised educational ideals and practices to internationalise the experience of Scandinavian social democracy. The analysis shows how the transnational activities of the Nordic folk high school’s study course opened up new spaces for Scandinavian internationalism. In this way, the article argues, the school represented an experiment in internationalism from below where Nordism was deployed as a cultural strategy to create international understanding for working-class Scandinavians; and created new arenas for Nordic encounters with French political and intellectual milieus that admired Scandinavian democracy and social peace.

One of the most exposed value in an Age of Neoliberalism is a gender equality, which is an essential condition to achieve goals of economic growth, employment and social cohesion. The Baltic Sea Region (BSR) is a non-homogeneous region. When examining the economic situation of the region, the BSR countries are traditionally divided into two groups: (1) the high-income countries Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Germany and Iceland, which are called “old market economy countries”, or “developed economies of the region”; (2) the middle- or low-income countries as Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, and Russia. The latter are classified as post-socialist or transitional economies. The aim of the article is to analyse similarities and differences between those two groups of countries from 2006 to 2016 (ten years). The article compared gender gap using special tools as an economic participation, educational attainment and political empowerment

Abstract Scandinavism was a political idea in the nineteenth century that strived to unite the Scandinavian countries into one state. In Finland, Scandinavists were few in number but formed networks with Scandinavists in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, networks that have been largely ignored hitherto in Finnish historiography. This article focuses on the Finnish Scandinavist Emil von Qvanten, who proposed a Nordic federal state including Finland in 1855 in the pamphlet “Fennomania and Scandinavism” (von Qvanten 1855a). Moreover, his correspondence reveals an influential exiled Finnish patriot, who became a Nordic politician and a trusted person to the Swedish King Karl XV. Von Qvanten corresponded extensively with the Finnish architect Nestor Tallgren, European dissidents such as the Russian anarchist Mikhail Bakunin, the Russian socialist Alexandr Herzen, and Polish separatists like Josef Demontovicz and Walerian Kalinka, as well as Swedish and Danish politicians and Scandinavian intelligentsia. An alternative option of Finland having a Scandinavian political dimension during the age of autonomy will be discussed here with a focus on the letters that Nestor Tallgren wrote to Emil von Qvanten.

Danish archaeology in the shadow of the swastika, 1933-1945 With Hitler’s takeover in 1933 and the emergence of the National Socialist regime, Prehistoric archaeology in Germany was strengthened, both on the economical and the scholarly level. Prehistoric archaeologists entered into a Faustian bargain with the new government, and arguing the presence of Germanic peoples outside the borders of the Third Reich, they legitimated the Nazi “Drang nach Osten”. With the Fuhrer’s lack of interest in German prehistory, the fight for control of this field became a matter between two organisations, the Ahnenerbe, which was attached to Heinrich Himmler’s SS, and the competing Reichsbund für Deutsche Vorgeschichte under NSDAP’s chief ideologist, Alfred Rosenberg’s “Amt Rosenberg” (Figs. 1-2). When the Second World War broke out in 1939, Ahnenerbe appeared as winner of the fight over the German prehistory. However, the archaeological power struggles continued in the conquered territories until the end of the war.Immediately after the Nazi takeover in 1933, leading staff members of the Danish National Museum in Copenhagen, such as Mouritz Mackeprang, Poul Nørlund, and Johannes Brøndsted (Figs. 3-4) dissociated themselves from the political development south of the border. However, in the course of time, and in conformity with the official Danish accommodation policy towards Germany in the 1930s, the opposition changed their attitude into a more neutral policy of cultural adjustment towards Nazified German colleagues.The Danish government’s surrender on the 9th of April 1940 meant a continuing German recognition of Denmark as a sovereign state. From the German side, the communication with the Danish government was handled by the German ministry of foreign affairs in Berlin, and by the German legation in Copenhagen. Denmark was the sole occupied country under the domain of the ministry of foreign affairs, and from the beginning of the occupation it became a regular element in the policy of the ministry to prevent other political organs within the Nazi polycracy to gain influence in Denmark. Not until the appointment of SS-Gruppenfuhrer Werner Best (Fig. 5) as the German Reich Plenipotentiary in Denmark in November 1942, the SS and the Ahnenerbe got an opportunity to secure their influence in Denmark. However, due to the chilly attitude in the Danish population towards the German culture propaganda, practiced mainly through the German Scientific Institute in Copenhagen, and the gradual worsening of the political conditions following the resignation of the Danish government on the 29th of August 1943, the Ahnenerbe, led by Wolfram Sievers (Fig. 6), was never firmly established in Denmark. The one result of Ahnenerbe’s influence in Denmark worth mentioning was the effort by the Kiel Archaeologist Karl Kersten (Fig. 7) to prevent German destruction of prehistoric Danish (Germanic) relics. Kersten began his work in 1940 and was met from the start with aversion from the National Museum in Copenhagen, which regarded the activities of the Ahnenerbe-archaeologist as German interference with Danish conditions. Yet, in time the work of the Kiel archaeologist was accepted and recognised by the muse- um, and he was officially recognized by the Danish state when in 1957, Kersten was made Knight of Dannebrog.Less successful than the Ahnenerbe rival was the prominent Nazi archaeologist Hans Reinerth (Fig. 8) and the efforts by Reichsbund für Deutsche Vorgeschichte to gain influence on the Danish scene of culture politics. One of Reinerth’s few successes in occupied Denmark was a short contact with two Danish archaeologists, Gudmund Hatt and Mogens B. Mackeprang (Figs. 9-10). However, the connections with the RfDV-leader do not seem to have been maintained, once the Danish government had ceased to function from the 29th of August 1943.During the occupation, around 300 listed burial mounds and an unknown number of prehistoric relics below ground level were destroyed or damaged due to construction projects carried out by the German occupants (Figs. 11-12). The complaints about the damage put forward by the National Museum were generally met by understanding in the German administration and in the Bauleitung (construction department), whereas the Wehrmacht had a more indifferent approach to the complaints. As opposed to this, the Danish museums managed to get through the war with no damage or German confiscations worth mentioning, thus avoiding the fate of museums, collections, and libraries in countries such as France, Poland, and the Soviet Union.Lars Schreiber PedersenÅrhusTranslated by Annette Lerche Trolle

Global manufacturing systems function in such a way that countries develop industrial spe­cialisation, which leads to territorial disparities. The countries of the Baltic region are no exception despite their strong economic ties and developed industries. A signifi­cant element of any manufacturing system is its scientific and technological subsystem, which is described in this article for ten countries (Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Nor­way, Finland, Poland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Russia), based on an analysis of a clustered set of national character­istics: R&D financing and staffing in the scientific and technological subsystem. A total of ten indicators, absolute and relative, are investigated. The study relies on combined grouping, graphical and cluster analysis to build a typology of countries and distinguish their types ac­cording to their scientific and technological excellence As a result, a typology of the countries of the Baltic Sea region has been pro­posed and types of countries with similar characteristics have been identified: the two main types are traditional market economies and post-socialist countries, whose common features are observed in all sets of main characteristics. Several subtypes are described as well. The research draws on 2010—2019 (2020) statistical data from the European Statistical Office (Eurostat), the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) and Russia’s Federal State Statistics Service (Rosstat).

В статье исследуются особенности участия Скандинавских стран в мировой торговле. Кратко описываются профили скандинавских стран: Дании, Финляндии, Исландии, Норвегии и Швеции. Проведен анализ статистических данных о торговле товарами скандинавских стран, включая сведения об основных партнерах. Подчеркивается роль и история гендерного равенства, а также активная и позитивная роль местных профсоюзов. В статье сделан вывод о том, что так называемый северный образ жизни успешно сочетает в себе основные положительные черты капиталистической и социалистической социально-экономических моделей и предлагает правильный баланс между экономической эффективностью свободного рынка и принципом равенства людей. The article examines the peculiarities of the participation of Scandinavian countries in world trade. Profiles of Scandinavian countries are briefly described: Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden. The analysis of statistical data on trade in goods of the Scandinavian countries, including information about the main partners, was carried out. The role and history of gender equality is emphasized, as well as the active and positive role of local trade unions. The article concludes that the so-called northern way of life successfully combines the main positive features of capitalist and socialist socio-economic models and offers the right balance between the economic efficiency of the free market and the principle of equality of people.

Imagined Differences - A barrier to integration and experience of community between adolescents with different ethnic backgrounds This article examines the experience of community and belonging among adolescents in a public secondary school in Albertslund, a suburban area of Copenhagen with an ethnically heterogeneous population. The article is based on the assumption that ethnicity plays a secondary role in friendship-making and experiencing community, while shared interests are of greater importance. However, the case study falsifies this assumption. In everyday life, the adolescents show respect for one another, and their communication is characterised by a positive attitude. However, they also tend to socialise according to their ethnic background. Thus adolescents with a Danish background hang out and keep to themselves as a rule, while adolescents with other ethnic backgrounds than Danish tend to identify themselves as non-Danish. This division is experienced as ‘natural’ by the adolescents, who therefore have limited interaction with other ethnic groups. The article suggests that the division is a consequence of ‘imagined differences’. These differences are primarily built up around religion, and especially the dichotomy of Muslim or non-Muslim, which tends to overshadow potential similarities, such as the shared experience of having been born and raised in Denmark, playing football together or attending the same parties. The article discusses possible solutions, including a redefinition of what it means to be Danish, in order to facilitate a more inclusive understanding of who ‘We’ and ‘They’ are.

The study focuses on the analysis of labor productivity in Polish agriculture in 2005 and 2016 in comparison to selected EU-15 countries (group 1) and some countries that joined the EU after 2004. In group 1, Austria, Belgium, Denmark, the Netherlands and Germany are included, while in group 2 - the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Lithuania, Latvia and Hungary. The analysis particularly considers the role of large farms, the size of which was contractually agreed at 30 ha of UAA. The aim of the study was to determine the impact of large farms on the level of labor productivity in total farms and to determine the possibility of reducing the differences between labor productivity in Polish large farms in relation to analogous farms in EU-15 countries, and determining whether changes occurring in Poland differ from those occurring in large farms in other post-socialist countries. In both groups of countries there was a decrease in the number of farms and an increase in labor productivity in agriculture in general and in surveyed classes in large farms. In the countries of group 2. the rate of labor productivity growth was higher than in group 1. However, it slightly reduced the differences. Labor productivity in agriculture in the countries of Group 1 was significantly higher than in Group 2. The increase in the number and share of large farms in the structure of farms was positively correlated with labor productivity in agriculture.

Til Nordmænd om en Norsk Høi-Skole. En indledning[To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School. An Introduction]By Henrik YdeTo the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School (1837) is the second of Grundtvig’s major writings on people’s high schools or national high schools. It is also the only one aimed at a non-Danish public. And whereas his other writings on this subject did not catch much attention in Denmark when published, To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School immediately stirred up a fierce debate in Norway.In 1832—after the liberal revolutions in Paris and elsewhere—Grundtvig clearly stated that he was “no friend of parliaments” but preferred absolute monarchy. However, as parliaments did exist, Grundtvig was of the opinion that the voters as well as the members of parliaments ought to receive national education in their vernacular languages in order to gain sense and knowledge about the common good of their respective nations.When addressing the Norwegians, Grundtvig had to take into account that the Norwegian constitution from 1814 was one of the most liberal of all European constitutions. The Norwegian parliament—the Storting—actually had legislative authority and had shown itself to be strong enough to oppose the Swedish-Norwegian king. This was not the case in Denmark, where provisional advisory assemblies—praised by Grundtvig—had been established in 1831 largely to ward off demands for a constitutional monarchy. However, in To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School, Grundtvig deliberately avoids a direct address to the Storting. He chooses not to talk about the need for national education for the members of the Norwegian parliament. This omission is probably due to the fact that while some of Grundtvig’s Norwegian followers were liberals, some were conservatives: thus, it was crucial for him not to be accused of taking sides in Norwegian politics. Instead, he makes a more general claim about a national education in the mother tongue where the students should learn about the common good of the nation. He hardly mentions the Storting.However, when speaking of education in the mother tongue, Grundtvig entered another area of high tension, namely that of the use of the classical language of Latin at the University of Christiania (Oslo) and in the Norwegian upper secondary schools, the ‘Latin schools’. And though Grundtvig’s conservative Norwegian friends did not share his hatred of Latin, here he did not hesitate to stress the need for a higher national education in the vernacular language.The reaction was immediate: A week before the official release of To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School (on July 29th 1837) the conservative paper Den Constitutionelle (The Constitutionalist) strongly attacked Grundtvig, claiming that his idea of national education was subversive and socialist and also that it was contradictory to his former biblical fundamentalism.These arguments were immediately refuted by the liberal Morgenbladet (The Morning Daily), in which the critic totally agreed with Grundtvig to an extent not even uttered in To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School itself: that a national high school using the mother tongue would be an excellent means for educating the members of the Storting, especially those who had not attended the ‘Latin school’ in their youth.One specific paper did not react in the first round of the debate: Statsborgeren (The Nationalf), a radical liberal and national paper, edited by the writer Henrik Wergeland. He and Grundtvig had very similar ideas about a number of issues including the enlightenment of the people. However, no dialogue was possible: Wergeland was a liberal applauding the ideals of The French Revolution, Grundtvig was a conservative anti-rationalist. Furthermore Wergeland still remembered that his father Nicolai had had a fierce fight with Grundtvig in the years 1811-16 over Denmark’s political and economic relationship to Norway through the centuries, as being either imperialistic (N. Wergeland’s claim) or altruistic (Grundtvig’s claim). Later, in the debate about To the Norwegians concerning a Norwegian High School, Wergeland attacked Grundtvig along with his Norwegian followers, claiming that Grundtvig was ignorant in the matter of science and a megalomaniac as a person.Thus with the exception of Morgenbladet, the premise of Grundtvig’s booklet was not well understood. Instead, it was considered to be a comment on the standing debate in Norway over the use of Latin at the university and in the upper secondary school.On the sidelines, though, some of Grundtvig’s closest followers in Norway, the wealthy Solem-family, continued to work on their own initiative and with their own money to bring about a Grundtvigian national high school. However, the conditions for this were not yet favourable, either in Norway or in Denmark, and the first Norwegian people’s high school only opened in 1864.

Emphasis is placed on the social conditionality of criminal liability for the manufacture, storage, transportation or sale of counterfeit money or securities. Attention is drawn to the features of the signs of elements (objective and subjective sides) of the corpus delicti, which form the act we are analyzing under the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation and a number of foreign Criminal Code in countries belonging to the Romano-Germanic (Germany, Denmark and Switzerland) and post-socialist legal families (Republic of Kyrgyzstan, Republic of Kazakhstan, Republic of Belarus, Turkmenistan, Republic of Azerbaijan, Ukraine, Republic of Latvia). The goal is to analyze the general and distinctive features that characterize the act in question through the prism of comparative legal research. The study concluded that there are differences in the technical and legal design of norms. Special attention is paid to the fact that in the current Russian criminal law, unlike the laws of some foreign countries, there are no such signs of the objective side of a crime as sending counterfeit money; import of counterfeit money from abroad; purchase of clichés, specialized paper, etc. for the production of items of corpus delicti. It is concluded that, according to judicial practice, these actions are qualified under Art. 186 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation, but at the same time, the domestic legislator needs to analyze the feasibility of reflecting in it such alternative qualifying signs of the objective side of this crime as: importing from abroad and sending counterfeit money or securities.

Bent Boel: Danish support for dissidents in the Soviet Bloc during the Cold War Recent Cold War historiography has demonstrated an increased interest for the many ways in which the Iron Curtain was perforated long before the fall of the Berlin Wall. This article looks at Denmark’s role in this process and constitutes a first attempt to examine Danish assistance to Soviet Bloc dissidents. Its relevancy is heightened by the ongoing Danish controversies concerning the Cold War and, in particular, disagreements about the role played by different groups which supported dissidents in the Soviet Bloc. Indeed, without documented knowledge in this field we will have to settle for a debate rich in passions and certitudes but rather disconnected from the complicated reality of the Cold War. Based on available written and oral sources, this article makes a number of claims about Danish support for the dissidents. For instance, the support was, mostly, a non–governmental endeavor. Although there are examples of official or semi–official contacts with dissidents, in the main dissident–helpers were a tiny minority comprising marginal fringe groups or individuals (exiled Soviet bloc dissidents, Bible smugglers, peace activists, leftwing activists) acting on their own initiative rather than mandated by some larger group. Only during the 1980s, and in particular the second half of the 1980s, did other actors – and more prominent individuals – enter the fray. This minority was politically extremely diverse: practical support for the dissidence could be found in many different political quarters, and it could be motivated by extremely diverse motives. In some cases it had at least as much to do with domestic politics as it had with the dissidents themselves. Among those supporting the dissidents were far right–wing activists as well as Maoists and Trotskyists or liberals. But the overwhelming majority of those involved in subversive tourism to the Soviet Bloc were from the left (broadly understood). The reasons for this overrepresentation are diverse. One of them was the perceived need to actively show that Soviet–style socialism was quite different from the kind of socialism to which the majority of the Danish left aspired.

The Nordic countries constitute an interesting laboratory for the study of differentiated European Integration. Even though Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden share some historical, cultural, socio-economic and political characteristics, all those countries have ultimately opted for a different kind of relationship with the EU. Whereas Finland, a member of the Eurozone since its inception in 1999, has been considered to be part of the Union’s ‘inner core’ for quite some time, Iceland and Norway, in contrast, have opted to remain outside the EU albeit closely associated via the European Economic Area Agreement. The variation of relationships has also been reflected in Nordic parties’ positioning vis-à-vis European integration in general and differentiation of European integration in particular. Broadly speaking, party families can be distinguished along traditional (e.g., agrarian, Christian democratic, conservative, and social democratic) and modern (e.g., socialist left, green, and populist radical right) ideological orientations. Although political parties belonging to both the traditional and modern Nordic party families have adopted different stances on European differentiated integration, we would assume—against the backdrop of Nordic cooperation—higher levels of transnational cooperation in European matters. Consequently, this article examines the similarities and differences between parties belonging to the same ideological family, and the extent of transnational party cooperation in the Nordic countries. Drawing on a series of interviews conducted with party representatives as well as on official party documents, this article shows that although institutionalized party cooperation mostly reflects divisions between party families, such institutionalization does not include a common vision for European integration. We conclude that the low level of partisan Nordic integration is primarily caused by domestic-level factors, such as intra-party divisions, government participation and public opinion.

Lars Schreiber Pedersen: “Ich zweifle nicht, dass man hier für die Bauforschung sorgen könnte.” [“I do not doubt that one could take care of construction research here.”] New light shed on H. O. Lange’s struggle for a Danish scientific institute in Egypt 1938–39 Fund og Forskning 46 from 2007 contained an article about the Egyptologist and head librarian at The Royal Library from 1901–1924, H. O. Lange’s attempt to help his long-time friend, the German-Jewish Egyptologist Ludwig Borchardt and his wife Emilie to acquire Danish citizenship and at the same time ensure Denmark and Copenhagen University a scientific institute in Cairo in Egypt. As early as 2007, it was clear that parts of the initial correspondence were missing between Ludwig Borchardt and later, after Ludwig Borchardt’s death on 12 August 1938, his wife Emilie Borchardt and H. O. Lange. Lange quoted diligently from these letters when he promoted Ludwig and Emilie Borchardt’s case in the summer and autumn of 1938 to several Danish ministries and at Copenhagen University. Part of the supposedly lost correspondence, including 14 letters from Ludwig and Emilie Borchardt to H. O. Lange, as well as three response drafts from H. O. Lange showed up a few years ago at Copenhagen University and constitute the focal point of this article. The letters provide new and detailed insight into H. O. Lange’s efforts to ensure the Danish state and Copenhagen University the scientific institute in Egypt. An institute, which could help highlight the leadership of Danish Egyptology in the Nordic countries. The rediscovered letters also document how tight a grip Ludwig and Emilie Borchardt had on the institute, and how unwilling the couple really were to entrust the institute and its corresponding assets to the Danish State. The letters leave the impression of a married couple, who did not hesitate to play close friends and peers (George Reisner, Allan H. Gardiner and H. O. Lange) against one another based on a supposed risk that the institution and its assets could be seized by National Socialist Germany. However, the foundation created by the couple using private funds in the district of Zamalek in Cairo, was never close to ending up in Danish, English or American hands. Since the alleged risk of seizing the institute and its corresponding assets in the late summer of 1938 had blown over, Emilie Borchardt gradually retracted the feelers she had put out. In the three countries, which participated in the battle to take over the institute, namely USA, England and Denmark, civil servants and politicians were in the end not willing to pay the price presented by the Borchardts for the scientific institute, plus the granting of citizenship. Today, the institute bears the name Schweizerisches Institut für Ägyptische Bauforschung und Altertumskunde (Swiss Institute for Architectural and Archaeological Research on Ancient Egypt) and continues to be financed by the foundation created by Ludwig and Emilie Borchardt.

In the article, on the backgroung of historical and pedagogical analysis, the author made an attempt to compare foreign and domestic experience in the development of out-of-school education. Much has been done by educators and the European society to unite young people and prepare them for life in the European community. This is confirmed by the fact that in October 1991 a pan-European union of institutions and organizations of leisure for children and youth (EAICY) was established, of which Ukraine became an associate member. The author draws attention to the development of out-of- school education in the Central European countries belonging to EAICY: Bulgaria, Poland, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, which have common features, as each of them belonged to the so-called socialist camp. Among the countries of Western Europe EAICY includes: Belgium, Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, Portugal, France, Denmark. Among Eastern European countries, EAICY includes Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Ukraine, Estonia and Kazakhstan. The history of appearence and development of the system of out-of-school education and upbringing in these countries has not only national but also common roots, as each of these countries in the past was part of the USSR. Thus, there are common trends in the development of out-of-school education in European countries and Ukraine: focusing on the needs of the individual in socialization, life skills, gaining new knowledge, acquiring practical skills according to one’s interests, meeting the needs of the individual in creative self-realization, organization of meaningful leisure; state regulation of the organization of leisure time for children and youth in education is carried out in those countries where out-of-school education is a component of national education systems, has a clearly defined structure and activities; systems of purposeful organization of free time of children and youth, despite the peculiarities of directions, methods of activity, variety of forms and structure, have much in common in the content of work, related to the purpose and social educational problems. Domestic experience in the development of out-of-school education has retained its uniqueness in world practice.

The aim of the article is to discover the nature of the widespread criticism of Leninism in Western countries in the “left communism” or “communism of the Soviets” (Raetekommunismus), which arose in Germany, Holland, and Denmark in the 1920s and 1930s. To understand the general lines of the criticism of the philosophy of Leninism the author analyzes the ideas presented in the work Lenin as Philosopher by Anton Pannekoek, one of the greatest thinkers and politicians of the “communism of the Soviets”. In its philosophical part, the work is devoted to the criticism of Lenin’s main philosophical work Materialism and Empirio-Criticism. The author also takes into account the articles devoted to this criticism by Karl Korsch and Paul Mattik, other founders of “communism of the Soviets”. The significance of these works is determined by the fact that they constitute the philosophical foundation of contemporary Western “Marxist anti-Leninism”. The author reveals the political presuppositions and the political background of the polemic about the philosophical foundations of Leninism. The background is a polemic about the significance of the Russian revolution and the principles of building the Bolshevik party for the rest of the world and especially for Western countries and their Communist parties. The philosophical polemic with Leninism grows out of a doubt about the universal significance of the experience of the Russian revolution. In particular, Pannekoek and Korsch put forward the thesis of the bourgeois-democratic, not socialist character of the Russian revolution. From this thesis, they conclude that the theoretical basis of the Russian revolution is also of a bourgeois character, i.e. the Russian revolution is based on the ideas of the Enlightenment. The philosophical foundation of the Enlightenment is natural-scientific materialism, not historical materialism, i.e. not Marxism. The article demonstrates the genesis of the concept of Leninism as (1) an anti-democratic tendency in the contemporary liberation movement, (2) an instrument for legitimizing the repressive practices of the bureaucracy in the workers’ parties and in the “catching-up” states of organized capitalism, (3) a naturalistic mishmash of natural-scientific and historical materialism, ultimately suppressing and emasculating the historicity of Marxist thought. The author reveals how this concept was transmitted to tmodern Western left-wing thought through the Frankfurt school, and especially through Marcuse’s work Soviet Marxism (1958), which for many years became the most popular theoretical source for the Marxist criticism of Soviet dialectical materialism in the Western left. Nowadays, this interpretation functions in it in a sedimented form as self-evidence (Selbstverstaendlichkeit) and automatism.

AbstractLandscape change assessment was conducted in selected areas of Slovakia and Bulgaria in 1990–2000 using CORINE land cover (CLC) data layer analysis. Assessment of causes that led to these changes was undertaken, with an emphasis on those that determined the extensification of agriculture. The LC data were obtained under the CLC90 and I&CLC2000 projects, jointly managed by the European Environment Agency in Copenhagen, Denmark and the Joint Research Centre of the European Commission in Ispra, Italy. The CLC1990-2000-changes data layer was generated by overlaying the CLC90 and CLC2000 data layers for change in areas of a minimum 5 ha. The analysed causes of changes (driving forces) were then classified. Land cover (LC) changes characterizing urbanization processes occurred only in the Trnava and Tatras areas. Intensification of agriculture was also higher in these two areas. LC changes characterizing the extensification of agriculture were dominant in Plovdiv and Trnava. Deforestation and forestation were identified in all areas (Trnava, Tatras, Plovdiv, and Burgas). The basic reasons of these changes were related to the transformation of national economies from being centrally planned to market controlled, following the fall of socialism and before the countries joined the European Union.

Abstract The Danish politician Hartvig Frisch’s reading of Thucydides at the eve of and during the Second World War is a particularly illuminating example of the modern reception of the Athenian historian. This is not due to any peculiar character of his interpretation, which scarcely differs from other contemporary accounts of the History of the Peloponnesian War as a lesson in seeing the world ‘realistically’. Rather, it is due to Frisch’s eagerness to make the text meaningful in a very practical sense. Addressing fellow socialist politicians, working-class youths, and students alike, and drawing parallels between the situation of his native Denmark and the fate of the Greek island town of Melos in 416 bce, Frisch saw Thucydides’ History as an invaluable guide for the demanding times of the late 1930s and 1940s, in particular for the inhabitants of ‘small nations’ like his own.

The adverse effects of climate change are already apparent with action required to forestall a full blown climate catastrophe. Despite findings that social democratic welfare states – Denmark, Finland, Norway and Sweden – more proactively respond to climate change through environmental policies that complement public policies promoting economic and social security, even these eco-social welfare state environmental policies are unlikely to avert a climate catastrophe. To avert a catastrophe will require gaining public control over energy policy and countering the power and influence of fossil-extracting industries. In theory, this could be accomplished through existing policy instruments. In reality, it may require establishment of a post-capitalist eco-socialist state, the outlines of which remain uncertain even among leading eco-socialist scholars. To effect either of these paths will require public awareness and support for such action. To that end, we identify public discourses of climate change which reflect these two ways forward as well as four other means of responding to climate change: (1) individual responsibility; (2) local action; (3) technocratic solution; (4) public policy advocacy; (5) balancing power in society; and (6) establishing a post-capitalist society. Despite the latter two discourses being the most likely to support effective action, they are the most marginalized.

Frits Clausen, the future leader of the Nationalist Socialist Workers Party of Denmark (DNSAP), was a Russian prison of war from 1915-18. The development that he underwent in captivity is examined through contemporary letters and later articles and reminiscences. He was forced to enlist in the German army as a professed Danish nationalist, and for him the war represented a possibility and a hope that Germany would lose, providing an opportunity for North Schleswig to be reunited with Denmark. He put this goal higher than other considerations, including the German orientation of Schleswigers, and his dislike of the Danish Social-Liberal Party was due in an inordinate degree to press releases from Denmark reporting the party’s half-hearted attitude to the North Schleswig issue. He also clashed with the Danish clergyman who was sent to minister to the prisoners of war from North Schleswig. The clergyman was more of an upright, neutral Danish official than a wholehearted advocate of the North Schleswig case. In this respect the clergyman was a disappointment in Frits Clausen’s eyes. His recommendation that the pro-Danish prisoners of war from North Schleswig should return to Germany to resuming fighting on the German side following the separate peace treaty between Germany and Russia was more than Frits Clausen could cope with. He went over the clergyman’s head and tried, together with a small number of like-minded individuals, to fight against Germany, but his attempt failed. In the course of his endeavours he developed a hatred of the new Soviet regime, as personified by the Marxist Jew, but in other respects had gained an excellent impression of the Russians, who he in no way considered to be an inferior people. On his return from Russia he expressed his anti-Semitism and anti-Communism in various anonymous articles in the press. This was the first step towards keeping the promise, made to himself during his captivity, to dedicate his life to the struggle against Marxism.

Based on its geographical features, Hungary is basically an agricultural country. The proportion of the production area within the total area of the country is approximately 80% and the proportion of arable land is 60%. This makes our country one of the first in the European Union. In the EU, only Denmark and the United Kingdom have a higher proportion of agricultural land. Hungary accounts for only 3% of the total agricultural area of ​​the EU-27 Member States, however, it plays a significant role in the production of certain products. (Harangi-Rákos, 2013) In addition, the climate is favorable for agricultural production, which also strengthens the country's agricultural character. Throughout history, we have rightly been given the honorable name “pantry” (Marosi, 2009), which was true both within the Monarchy and Europe. In the socialist system the agricultural country became a so-called “industrial-agrarian” country due to the violent industrializations. Beyond industrial development, the service sector plays an important role in the national economy due to its technology-intensive nature. In addition, agricultural production is still significant in Hungary (Lakner et al. 2020). The agricultural sector is significantly involved in the production of the gross domestic product (Fróna-Kőmíves 2019) and in the positive development of the export-import balance. During the 2008 world crisis, it was thanks to this sector, among other factors, that the recession that affected our country did not deepen. The domestic consumption is largely covered by domestically produced commodities (Csatáriné, 2019)

John T. Lauridsen: The first “border saver”. Ejnar Vaaben and the Berlin Line. Ejnar Vaaben was a Danish Nazi at a relatively early point in time and established contacts with the prototype of the NSDAP (the National Socialist German Workers’ Party) and some of its leaders in Germany before Hitler took power in January 1933. These contacts were of such significance at the time, and later, that Vaaben attributed to himself the honour of having led the German Nazis to maintain the Danish-German border as it was. According to him, he also attempted to work for a change of the border in Denmark’s favour. The article examines the limited material on Vaaben’s presumed border-change activities and alleged close contact with, and influence on, the Nazi leaders, just as his later efforts during the German occupation are viewed in this light, since his memoirs, written later, are compared with material from the same period. The conclusion drawn is that this was a self-centred, self-aggrandising assessment on the part of Vaaben, masking the attempt of an insignificant political fantasist and traitor to earn a place in Danish history.

Abstract As governments adapt to ‘active ageing’ policies, care services are increasingly oriented towards helping older adults to stay active in order to maintain their physiological and cognitive capacity. Day centres for the frail old adults are adding more planned activities to their conventional social programmes. Although evidence indicates that they may benefit from physical fitness sessions and brain training, little is known about the way in which the activation agenda influences social interaction among participants. The article aims to fill this knowledge gap by exploring how staff and participants manoeuvre between the new activation agenda and processes of coming to terms with the functional decline of ageing bodies. We draw on ethnographic data, collected in four day centres in Denmark and Norway, constituting participant observation of 18 days, 19 interviews with older participants and 18 interviews with staff members. With reference to the dramaturgical approach of Erving Goffman, we demonstrate how different fitness identities are negotiated on different social stages. Firstly, we identify a social stage at a crossroad between staff acting as motivators in training sessions and older participants as active contributors. We demonstrate how day-care staff assist participants in keeping up appearances as fit for one's age by recognising their performance and concealing flawed performances. Secondly, we identify a social stage where participants socialise with co-participants around the lunch table and other social events. Here the act of ‘keeping up appearances’ turns into a complex art whereby people strive to retain their fitness identity by comparing themselves with peers. Finally, based on observation ‘backstage’, we reveal how participants distance themselves from the functional decline of old age by claiming that they are fit enough. We conclude that day centres are contested sites for active-ageing policies.

Background Social skills interventions are commonly recommended to help children and young people with autism spectrum disorder develop social skills, but some struggle to engage in these interventions. LEGO® (LEGO System A/S, Billund, Denmark) based therapy, a group social skills intervention, aims to be more interesting and engaging. Objective To evaluate the clinical effectiveness of LEGO® based therapy on the social and emotional skills of children and young people with autism spectrum disorder in school settings compared with usual support. Secondary objectives included evaluations of cost-effectiveness, acceptability and treatment fidelity. Design A cluster randomised controlled trial randomly allocating participating schools to either LEGO® based therapy and usual support or usual support only. Setting Mainstream schools in the north of England. Participants Children and young people (aged 7–15 years) with autism spectrum disorder, their parent/guardian, an associated teacher/teaching assistant and a facilitator teacher/teaching assistant (intervention schools only). Intervention Schools randomised to the intervention arm delivered 12 weekly sessions of LEGO® based therapy, which promotes collaborative play and encourages social problem-solving in groups of three children and young people with a facilitator (trained teacher or teaching assistant). Participants received usual support from school and community services. Participants in the control arm received usual support only. Research assistants and statisticians were blind to treatment allocation. Main outcome measure The social skills subscale of the Social Skills Improvement System (SSIS), completed by the children and young people’s unblinded teacher pre randomisation and 20 weeks post randomisation. The SSIS social skills subscale measures social skills including social communication, co-operation, empathy, assertion, responsibility and self-control. Participants completed a number of other pre- and post-randomisation measures of emotional health, quality of life, loneliness, problem behaviours, academic competence, service resource utilisation and adverse events. Results A total of 250 children and young people from 98 schools were randomised: 127 to the intervention arm and 123 to the control arm. Intention-to-treat analysis of the main outcome measure showed a modest positive difference of 3.74 points (95% confidence interval –0.16 to 7.63 points, standardised effect size 0.18; p = 0.06) in favour of the intervention arm. Statistical significance increased in per-protocol analysis, with a modest positive difference (standardised effect size 0.21; p = 0.036). Cost-effectiveness of the intervention was found in reduced service use costs and a small increase in quality-adjusted life-years. Intervention fidelity and acceptability were positive. No intervention-related adverse events or effects were reported. Conclusions The primary and pre-planned sensitivity analysis of the primary outcome consistently showed a positive clinical difference, with modest standardised effect sizes of between 0.15 and 0.21. There were positive health economics and qualitative findings, corroborated by the difference between arms for the majority of secondary outcomes, which were not statistically significant but favoured the intervention arm. Post hoc additional analysis was exploratory and was not used in drawing this conclusion. Given the small positive change, LEGO® based therapy for children and young people with autism spectrum disorder in schools should be considered. Limitations The primary outcome measure was completed by an unblinded teacher (rather than by the facilitator). Future work The study team recommends future research into LEGO® based therapy, particularly in school environments. Trial registration This trial is registered as ISRCTN64852382. Funding This award was funded by the National Institute for Health and Care Research (NIHR) Public Health Research programme (NIHR award ref: 15/49/32) and is published in full in Public Health Research; Vol. 11, No. 12. See the NIHR Funding and Awards website for further award information.

During World War II, the Soviet Union’s food supply was in a state of crisis. Hitler’s army had occupied the agricultural heartlands of Ukraine and Southern Russia in 1941 and, as a result, agricultural production for the entire nation had plummeted. Soldiers in Red Army, who easily ate the best rations in the country, subsisted on a daily allowance of just under a kilogram of bread, supplemented with meat, tea, sugar and butter when and if these items were available. The hunger of the Red Army and its effect on the morale and strength of Europe’s eastern warfront were causes for concern for the Soviet government and its European and American allies. The one country with a food surplus decided to do something to help, and in 1942 the United States agreed to send thousands of pounds of meat, cheese and butter overseas to help feed the Red Army. After receiving several shipments of the all-American spiced canned meat SPAM, the Red Army’s quartermaster put in a request for a more familiar canned pork product, Russian tushonka. Pound for pound, America sent more pigs overseas than soldiers during World War II, in part because pork was in oversupply in the America of the early 1940s. Shipping meat to hungry soldiers and civilians in war torn countries was a practical way to build business for the U.S. meat industry, which had been in decline throughout the 1930s. As per a Soviet-supplied recipe, the first cans of Lend-Lease tushonka were made in the heart of the American Midwest, at meatpacking plants in Iowa and Ohio (Stettinus 6-7). Government contracts in the meat packing industry helped fuel economic recovery, and meatpackers were in a position to take special request orders like the one for tushonka that came through the lines. Unlike SPAM, which was something of a novelty item during the war, tushonka was a food with a past. The original recipe was based on a recipe for preserved meat that had been a traditional product of the Ural Mountains, preserved in jars with salt and fat rather than by pressure and heat. Thus tushonka was requested—and was mass-produced—not simply as a convenience but also as a traditional and familiar food—a taste of home cooking that soldiers could carry with them into the field. Nikita Khrushchev later claimed that the arrival of tushonka was instrumental in helping the Red Army push back against the Nazi invasion (178). Unlike SPAM and other wartime rations, tushonka did not fade away after the war. Instead, it was distributed to the Soviet civilian population, appearing in charity donations and on the shelves of state shops. Often it was the only meat product available on a regular basis. Salty, fatty, and slightly grey-toned, tushonka was an unlikely hero of the postwar-era, but during this period tushonka rose from obscurity to become an emblem of socialist modernity. Because it was shelf stable and could be made from a variety of different cuts of meat, it proved an ideal product for the socialist production lines where supplies and the pace of production were infinitely variable. Unusual in a socialist system of supply, this product shaped production and distribution lines, and even influenced the layout of meatpacking factories and the genetic stocks of the animals that were to be eaten. Tushonka’s initial ubiquity in the postwar Soviet Union had little to do with the USSR’s own hog industry. Pig populations as well as their processing facilities had been decimated in the war, and pigs that did survive the Axis invasion had been evacuated East with human populations. Instead, the early presence of tushonka in the pig-scarce postwar Soviet Union had everything to do with Harry Truman’s unexpected September 1945 decision to end all “economically useful” Lend-Lease shipments to the Soviet Union (Martel). By the end of September, canned meat was practically the only product still being shipped as part of Lend-Lease (NARA RG 59). Although the United Nations was supposed to distribute these supplies to needy civilians free of cost, travelers to the Soviet Union in 1946 spotted cans of American tushonka for sale in state shops (Skeoch 231). After American tushonka “donations” disappeared from store shelves, the Soviet Union’s meat syndicates decided to continue producing the product. Between its first appearance during the war in 1943, and the 1957 announcement by Nikita Khrushchev that Soviet policy would restructure all state animal farms to support the mass production of one or several processed meat products, tushonka helped to drive the evolution of the Soviet Union’s meat packing industry. Its popularity with both planners and the public gave it the power to reach into food commodity chains. It is this backward reach and the longer-term impacts of these policies that make tushonka an unusual byproduct of the Cold War era. State planners loved tushonka: it was cheap to make, the logistics of preparing it were not complicated, it was easy to transport, and most importantly, it served as tangible evidence that the state was accomplishing a long-standing goal to get more meat to its citizenry and improving the diet of the average Soviet worker. Tushonka became a highly visible product in the Soviet Union’s much vaunted push to establish a modern food regime intended to rival that of the United States. Because it was shelf-stable, wartime tushonka had served as a practical food for soldiers, but after the war tushonka became an ideal food for workers who had neither the time nor the space to prepare a home-cooked meal with fresh meat. The Soviet state started to produce its own tushonka because it was such an excellent fit for the needs and abilities of the Soviet state—consumer demand was rarely considered by planners in this era. Not only did tushonka fit the look and taste of a modern processed meat product (that is, it was standard in texture and flavor from can to can, and was an obviously industrially processed product), it was also an excellent way to make the most of the predominant kind of meat the Soviet Union had the in the 1950s: small scraps low-grade pork and beef, trimmings leftover from butchering practices that focused on harvesting as much animal fat, rather than muscle, from the carcass in question. Just like tushonka, pork sausages and frozen pelmeny, a meat-filled pasta dumpling, also became winning postwar foods thanks to a happy synergy of increased animal production, better butchering and new food processing machines. As postwar pigs recovered their populations, the Soviet processed meat industry followed suit. One official source listed twenty-six different kinds of meat products being issued in 1964, although not all of these were pork (Danilov). An instructional manual distributed by the meat and milk syndicate demonstrated how meat shops should wrap and display sausages, and listed 24 different kinds of sausages that all needed a special style of tying up. Because of packaging shortages, the string that bound the sausage was wrapped in a different way for every type of sausage, and shop assistants were expected to be able to identify sausages based on the pattern of their binding. Pelmeny were produced at every meat factory that processed pork. These were “made from start to finish in a special, automated machine, human hands do not touch them. Which makes them a higher quality and better (prevoskhodnogo) product” (Book of Healthy and Delicious Food). These were foods that became possible to produce economically because of a co-occurring increase in pigs, the new standardized practice of equipping meatpacking plants with large-capacity grinders, and freezers or coolers and the enforcement of a system of grading meat. As the state began to rebuild Soviet agriculture from its near-collapse during the war, the Soviet Union looked to the United States for inspiration. Surprisingly, Soviet planners found some of the United States’ more outdated techniques to be quite valuable for new Soviet hog operations. The most striking of these was the adoption of competing phenotypes in the Soviet hog industry. Most major swine varieties had been developed and described in the 19th century in Germany and Great Britain. Breeds had a tendency to split into two phenotypically distinct groups, and in early 20th Century American pig farms, there was strong disagreement as to which style of pig was better suited to industrial conditions of production. Some pigs were “hot-blooded” (in other words, fast maturing and prolific reproducers) while others were a slower “big type” pig (a self-explanatory descriptor). Breeds rarely excelled at both traits and it was a matter of opinion whether speed or size was the most desirable trait to augment. The over-emphasis of either set of qualities damaged survival rates. At their largest, big type pigs resembled small hippopotamuses, and sows were so corpulent they unwittingly crushed their tiny piglets. But the sleeker hot-blooded pigs had a similarly lethal relationship with their young. Sows often produced litters of upwards of a dozen piglets and the stress of tending such a large brood led overwhelmed sows to devour their own offspring (Long). American pig breeders had been forced to navigate between these two undesirable extremes, but by the 1930s, big type pigs were fading in popularity mainly because butter and newly developed plant oils were replacing lard as the cooking fat of preference in American kitchens. The remarkable propensity of the big type to pack on pounds of extra fat was more of a liability than a benefit in this period, as the price that lard and salt pork plummeted in this decade. By the time U.S. meat packers were shipping cans of tushonka to their Soviet allies across the seas, US hog operations had already developed a strong preference for hot-blooded breeds and research had shifted to building and maintaining lean muscle on these swiftly maturing animals. When Soviet industrial planners hoping to learn how to make more tushonka entered the scene however, their interpretation of american efficiency was hardly predictable: scientifically nourished big type pigs may have been advantageous to the United States at midcentury, but the Soviet Union’s farms and hungry citizens had a very different list of needs and wants. At midcentury, Soviet pigs were still handicapped by old-fashioned variables such as cold weather, long winters, poor farm organisation and impoverished feed regimens. The look of the average Soviet hog operation was hardly industrial. In 1955 the typical Soviet pig was petite, shaggy, and slow to reproduce. In the absence of robust dairy or vegetable oil industries, Soviet pigs had always been valued for their fat rather than their meat, and tushonka had been a byproduct of an industry focused mainly on supplying the country with fat and lard. Until the mid 1950s, the most valuable pig on many Soviet state and collective farms was the nondescript but very rotund “lard and bacon” pig, an inefficient eater that could take upwards of two years to reach full maturity. In searching for a way to serve up more tushonka, Soviet planners became aware that their entire industry needed to be revamped. When the Soviet Union looked to the United States, planners were inspired by the earlier competition between hot-blooded and big type pigs, which Soviet planners thought, ambitiously, they could combine into one splendid pig. The Soviet Union imported new pigs from Poland, Lithuania, East Germany and Denmark, trying valiantly to create hybrid pigs that would exhibit both hot blood and big type. Soviet planners were especially interested in inspiring the Poland-China, an especially rotund specimen, to speed up its life cycle during them mid 1950s. Hybrdizing and cross breeding a Soviet super-pig, no matter how closely laid out on paper, was probably always a socialist pipe dream. However, when the Soviets decided to try to outbreed American hog breeders, they created an infrastructure for pigs and pig breeding that had a dramatic positive impact of hog populations across the country, and the 1950s were marked by a large increase in the number of pigs in the Soviet union, as well as dramatic increases in the numbers of purebred and scientific hybrids the country developed, all in the name of tushonka. It was not just the genetic stock that received a makeover in the postwar drive to can more tushonka; a revolution in the barnyard also took place and in less than 10 years, pigs were living in new housing stock and eating new feed sources. The most obvious postwar change was in farm layout and the use of building space. In the early 1950s, many collective farms had been consolidated. In 1940 there were a quarter of a million kolkhozii, by 1951 fewer than half that many remained (NARA RG166). Farm consolidation movements most often combined two, three or four collective farms into one economic unit, thus scaling up the average size and productivity of each collective farm and simplifying their administration. While there were originally ambitious plans to re-center farms around new “agro-city” bases with new, modern farm buildings, these projects were ultimately abandoned. Instead, existing buildings were repurposed and the several clusters of farm buildings that had once been the heart of separate villages acquired different uses. For animals this meant new barns and new daily routines. Barns were redesigned and compartmentalized around ideas of gender and age segregation—weaned baby pigs in one area, farrowing sows in another—as well as maximising growth and health. Pigs spent less outside time and more time at the trough. Pigs that were wanted for different purposes (breeding, meat and lard) were kept in different areas, isolated from each other to minimize the spread of disease as well as improve the efficiency of production. Much like postwar housing for humans, the new and improved pig barn was a crowded and often chaotic place where the electricity, heat and water functioned only sporadically. New barns were supposed to be mechanised. In some places, mechanisation had helped speed things along, but as one American official viewing a new mechanised pig farm in 1955 noted, “it did not appear to be a highly efficient organisation. The mechanised or automated operations, such as the preparation of hog feed, were eclipsed by the amount of hand labor which both preceded and followed the mechanised portion” (NARA RG166 1961). The American official estimated that by mechanizing, Soviet farms had actually increased the amount of human labor needed for farming operations. The other major environmental change took place away from the barnyard, in new crops the Soviet Union began to grow for fodder. The heart and soul of this project was establishing field corn as a major new fodder crop. Originally intended as a feed for cows that would replace hay, corn quickly became the feed of choice for raising pigs. After a visit by a United States delegation to Iowa and other U.S. farms over the summer of 1955, corn became the centerpiece of Khrushchev’s efforts to raise meat and milk productivity. These efforts were what earned Khrushchev his nickname of kukuruznik, or “corn fanatic.” Since so little of the Soviet Union looks or feels much like the plains and hills of Iowa, adopting corn might seem quixotic, but raising corn was a potentially practical move for a cold country. Unlike the other major fodder crops of turnips and potatoes, corn could be harvested early, while still green but already possessing a high level of protein. Corn provided a “gap month” of green feed during July and August, when grazing animals had eaten the first spring green growth but these same plants had not recovered their biomass. What corn remained in the fields in late summer was harvested and made into silage, and corn made the best silage that had been historically available in the Soviet Union. The high protein content of even silage made from green mass and unripe corn ears prevented them from losing weight in the winter. Thus the desire to put more meat on Soviet tables—a desire first prompted by American food donations of surplus pork from Iowa farmers adapting to agro-industrial reordering in their own country—pushed back into the commodity supply network of the Soviet Union. World War II rations that were well adapted to the uncertainty and poor infrastructure not just of war but also of peacetime were a source of inspiration for Soviet planners striving to improve the diets of citizens. To do this, they purchased and bred more and better animals, inventing breeds and paying attention, for the first time, to the efficiency and speed with which these animals were ready to become meat. Reinventing Soviet pigs pushed even back farther, and inspired agricultural economists and state planners to embrace new farm organizational structures. Pigs meant for the tushonka can spent more time inside eating, and led their lives in a rigid compartmentalization that mimicked emerging trends in human urban society. Beyond the barnyard, a new concern with feed-to weight conversions led agriculturalists to seek new crops; crops like corn that were costly to grow but were a perfect food for a pig destined for a tushonka tin. Thus in Soviet industrialization, pigs evolved. No longer simply recyclers of human waste, socialist pigs were consumers in their own right, their newly crafted genetic compositions demanded ever more technical feed sources in order to maximize their own productivity. Food is transformative, and in this case study the prosaic substance of canned meat proved to be unusually transformative for the history of the Soviet Union. In its early history it kept soldiers alive long enough to win an important war, later the requirements for its manufacture re-prioritized muscle tissue over fat tissue in the disassembly of carcasses. This transformative influence reached backwards into the supply lines and farms of the Soviet Union, revolutionizing the scale and goals of farming and meat packing for the Soviet food industry, as well as the relationship between the pig and the consumer. References Bentley, Amy. Eating for Victory: Food Rationing and the Politics of Domesticity. Where: University of Illinois Press, 1998. The Book of Healthy and Delicious Food, Kniga O Vkusnoi I Zdorovoi Pishche. Moscow: AMN Izd., 1952. 161. Danilov, M. M. Tovaravedenie Prodovol’stvennykh Tovarov: Miaso I Miasnye Tovarye. Moscow: Iz. Ekonomika, 1964. Khrushchev, Nikita. Khrushchev Remembers. New York: Little, Brown & Company, 1970. 178. Long, James. The Book of the Pig. London: Upcott Gill, 1886. 102. Lush, Jay & A.L. Anderson, “A Genetic History of Poland-China Swine: I—Early Breed History: The ‘Hot Blood’ versus the ‘Big Type’” Journal of Heredity 30.4 (1939): 149-56. Martel, Leon. Lend-Lease, Loans, and the Coming of the Cold War: A Study of the Implementation of Foreign Policy. Boulder: Westview Press, 1979. 35. National Archive and Records Administration (NARA). RG 59, General Records of the Department of State. Office of Soviet Union affairs, Box 6. “Records relating to Lend Lease with the USSR 1941-1952”. National Archive and Records Administration (NARA). RG166, Records of the Foreign Agricultural Service. Narrative reports 1940-1954. USSR Cotton-USSR Foreign trade. Box 64, Folder “farm management”. Report written by David V Kelly, 6 Apr. 1951. National Archive and Records Administration (NARA). RG 166, Records of the Foreign Agricultural Service. Narrative Reports 1955-1961. Folder: “Agriculture” “Visits to Soviet agricultural installations,” 15 Nov. 1961. Skeoch, L.A. Food Prices and Ration Scale in the Ukraine, 1946 The Review of Economics and Statistics 35.3 (Aug. 1953), 229-35. State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF). Fond R-7021. The Report of Extraordinary Special State Commission on Wartime Losses Resulting from the German-Fascist Occupation cites the following losses in the German takeover. 1948. Stettinus, Edward R. Jr. Lend-Lease: Weapon for Victory. Penguin Books, 1944.

IntroductionThe “North” is given explicitly “Nordic” value in extreme metal, as a vehicle for narratives of identity, nationalism and ideology. However, we also contend that “Nordicness” is articulated in diverse and contradictory ways in extreme metal contexts. We examine Nordicness in three key iterations: firstly, Nordicness as a brand tied to extremity and “authenticity”; secondly, Nordicness as an expression of exclusory ethnic belonging and ancestry; and thirdly, Nordicness as an imagined community of liberal democracy.In situating Nordicness across these iterations, we call into focus how the value of the “North” in metal discourse unfolds in different contexts with different implications. We argue that “Nordicness” as it is represented in extreme metal scenes cannot be considered as a uniform, essential category, but rather one marked by tensions and paradoxes that undercut the possibility of any singular understanding of the “North”. Deploying textual and critical discourse analysis, we analyse what Nordicness is made to mean in extreme metal scenes. Furthermore, we critique understandings of the “North” as a homogenous category and instead interrogate the plural ways in which “Nordic” meaning is articulated in metal. We focus specifically on Nordic Extreme Metal. This subgenre has been chosen with an eye to the regional complexities of the Nordic area in Northern Europe, the popularity of extreme metal in Nordic markets, and the successful global marketing of Nordic metal bands and styles.We use the term “Nordic” in line with Loftsdóttir and Jensen’s definition, wherein the “Nordic countries” encompass Norway, Sweden, Iceland, Denmark and Finland, and the autonomous regions of Greenland: the Faroe Islands and the Aland Islands (3). “Nordic-ness”, they argue, is the cultural identity of the Nordic countries, reified through self-perception, internationalisation and “national branding” (Loftsdóttir and Jensen 2).In referring to “extreme metal”, we draw from Kahn-Harris’s characterisation of the term. “Extreme metal” represents a cluster of heavy metal subgenres–primarily black metal, death metal, thrash metal, doom metal and grindcore–marked by their “extremity”; their impetus towards “[un]conventional musical aesthetics” (Kahn-Harris 6).Nonetheless, we remain acutely aware of the complexities that attend both terms. Just as extreme metal itself is “exceptionally diverse” (Kahn-Harris 6) and “constantly developing and reconfiguring” (Kahn-Harris 7), the category of the “Nordic” is also a site of “diverse experiences” (Loftsdóttir & Jensen 3). We seek to move beyond any essentialist understanding of the “Nordic” and move towards a critical mapping of the myriad ways in which the “Nordic” is given value in extreme metal contexts.Branding the North: Nordicness as Extremity and AuthenticityMetal’s relationship with the Nordic countries has become a key area of interest for both popular and scholarly accounts of heavy metal as the genre has rapidly expanded in the region. The Nordic countries currently boast the highest rate of metal bands per capita (Grandoni). Since the mid-2000s, metal scholars have displayed an accelerated interest in the “cultural aesthetics and identity politics” of metal in Northern Europe (Brown 261). Wider popular interest in Nordic metal has been assisted by the notoriety of the Norwegian black metal scene of the early 1990s, wherein a series of murders and church arsons committed by scene members formed the basis for popular texts such as Moynihan and Søderlind’s book Lords of Chaos and Aites and Ewell’s documentary Until the Light Takes Us.Invocations of Nordicness in metal music are not a new phenomenon, nor have such allusions been strictly limited to Northern European artists. Led Zeppelin and Iron Maiden displayed an interest in Norse mythology, while Venom and Manowar frequently drew on Nordic imagery in their performance and visual aesthetics.This interest in the North was largely ephemeral–the use of popular Nordic iconography stressed romanticised constructions of the North as a site of masculine liberty, rather than locating such archetypes in a historical context. Such narratives of Nordic masculinity, liberty and heathenry nevertheless become central to heavy metal’s contextual discourses, and point to the ways in which “Nordicness” becomes mobilised as a particular branded category.Whilst Nordic “branding” for earlier heavy metal bands was largely situated in romantic imaginings of the ancient North, in the late 1980s there emerged “a secondary usage” of Nordic identity and iconography by Northern European metal bands (Trafford & Pluskowski 58). Such “Nordicness” laid far more stress on historical context, national identity and notions of ancestry, and, crucially, a sense of extremity and isolation. This emphasis on metal’s extremity beyond the mainstream has long been a crucial component in the marketing of Nordic scenes.Such “extremity” is given mutually supportive value as “authenticity”, where the term is understood as a value judgement (Moore 209) applied by audiences to discern if music remains committed to its own premises (Frith 71). Such questions of sincerity and commitment to metal’s core continue to circulate in the discourses of Nordic extreme metal. Sweden’s death metal underground, for example, was considered at “the forefront of one of the most extreme varieties of music yet conceived” (Moynihan and Søderlind 32), with both the Stockholm and Gothenburg “sounds” proving influential beyond Northern Europe (Kahn-Harris 106).Situating Nordicness as a distinct identity beyond metal’s commercial appeal underscores much of the marketing of Nordic extreme metal to international audiences. Such discourses continue in contemporary contexts–Finland’s official website promotes metal as a form of Finnish art and culture: “By definition, heavy metal fans crave music from outside the mainstream. They champion material that boldly stands out against the normality of pop” (Weaver).The focus on Nordic metal existing “outside” the mainstream is commensurate with understandings of extreme metal as “on the edge of music” (Kahn-Harris 5). Such sentiments are situated in a wider regional narrative that sees the Nordic region at the geographic “edge” of Europe, as remote and isolated (Grimley 2). The apparent isolation that enables the distinctiveness of “Nordic” forms of extreme metal is, however, potentially undercut by the widespread circulation of “Nordicness” as a particular brand.“Nordic extreme metal” can be understood as both a generic and place-based scene, where genre and geography “cross cut and coincide in complex ways” (Kahn-Harris 99). The Bergen black metal sound, for example, much like the Gothenburg death metal sound, is both a geographic and stylistic marker that is replicated in different contexts.This Nordic branding of musical styles is further affirmed by the wider means through which “Nordic”, “Scandinavian” and the “North” become interchangeable frameworks for the marketing of particular styles of extreme metal. “Nordic metal”, Von Helden thus argues, “is a trademark and a best seller” (33).Nordicness as Exclusory Belonging and AncestryMarketing strategies that rely on constructions of Nordic metal as “beyond the mainstream” at once exotify and homogenise the “Nordic”. Sentiments of an “imagined community of Nordicness” (Lucas, Deeks and Spracklen 279) have created problematic boundaries of who, or what, may be represented in such categories.Understandings of “Nordicness” as a site of generic “purity” (Moynihan and Søderlind 32) are therefore both tacitly and explicitly underscored by projections of ethnic purity and “belonging”. As such, where we have previously considered the cultural capital of the “Nordic” as it emerges as a particular branding exercise, here we examine the exclusory impetus of homogenous understandings of the Nordic.Nordicness in this context connotes explicitly racialised value, which interpellates images of Viking heathenry to enable fantasies of the pure, white North. This phenomenon is particularly evident in the context of Norwegian black metal, which bases its own self-mythologising in explicitly Nordic parameters. Norwegian black metal bands and members of the broader scene have often taken steps to continually affirm their Nordicness through various representational strategies. The widespread church burnings associated with the early Norwegian black metal scene, for instance, can be framed as a radical rejection of Christianity and an embracing of Norway’s Viking, pagan past.The ethnoromanticisation of Nordic regions and landscapes is underscored by problematic projections of national belonging. An interest in pagan mythology, as Kahn-Harris notes, can easily become an interest in racism and fascism (41). The “uncritical celebration of pagan pasts, the obsession with the unpolluted countryside and the distrust of the cosmopolitan city” that mark much Norwegian black metal were also common features of early fascist and racist movements (Kahn-Harris 41).Norwegian black metal has thus been able to link the genre, as a global music commodity, to “the conscious revival of myths and ideologies of an ancient northern European history and nationalist culture” (Lucas, Deeks and Spracklen 279). The conscious revival of such myths materialised in the early Norwegian scene in deliberately racist sentiments. Mayhem drummer Jan Axel Blomberg (“Hellhammer”) demonstrates this in his brief declaration that “Black metal is for white people” (in Moynihan and Søderlind 305); similarly, Darkthrone’s original back cover of Transylvanian Hunger (1994) prominently featured the phrase “Norsk Arisk Black Metal” (“Norwegian Aryan Black Metal”). Nordicness as exclusory white, Aryan identity is further mobilised in the National Socialist Black Metal scene, which readily caters to ontological constructions of Nordic whiteness (Spracklen, True Aryan; Hagen).However, Nordicness is also given racialised value in more tacit, but nonetheless troubling ways in wider Nordic folk and Viking metal scenes. The popular association of Vikings with Nordic folk metal has enabled such figures to be dismissed as performative play or camp romanticism, ostensibly removed from the extremity of black metal. Such metal scenes and their appeals to ethnosymbolic patriarchs nevertheless remain central to the ongoing construction of Nordic metal as a site that enables the instrumentality of Northern European whiteness precisely through hiding such whiteness in plain sight (Spracklen, To Holmgard, 359).The ostensibly “camp” performance of bands such as Sweden’s Amon Amarth, Faroese act Týr, or Finland’s Korpiklaani distracts from the ways in which Nordicness, and its realisations through Viking and Pagan symbolism, emerges as a claim to ethnic exclusivity. Through imagining the Viking as an ancestral, genetic category, the “common past” of the Nordic people is constructed as a self-identity apart from other people (Blaagaard 11).Furthermore, the “Viking” itself has cultural capital that has circulated beyond Northern Europe in both inclusive and exclusive ways. Nordic symbolism and mythologies are invoked within the textual aesthetics of heavy metal communities across the globe–there are Viking metal bands in Australia, for instance. Further, the valorising of the “North” in metal discourse draws on the symbols of particular ethnic traditions to give historicity and local meaning to white identity.Lucas, Deeks and Spracklen map the rhetorical power of the “North” in English folk metal. However, the same international flows of Nordic cultural capital that have allowed for the success and distinctiveness of Nordic extreme metal have also enabled the proliferation of increasingly exclusionary practices. A flyer signed by the “Wiking Hordes” in May of 1995 (in Moynihan and Søderlind 327) warns that the expansion of black and death metal into Asia, Eastern Europe and South America posed a threat to the “true Aryan” metal community.Similarly, online discussions of the documentary Pagan Metal, in which an interviewee states that a Brazilian Viking metal band is “a bit funny”, shifted between assertions that enjoyment should not be restricted by cultural heritage and declarations that only Nordic bands could “legitimately” support Viking metal. Giving Nordicness value as a form of insular, ethnic belonging has therefore had exclusory and problematic implications for how metal scenes market their dominant symbols and narratives, particularly as scenes continue to grow and diversify across multiple national contexts.Nordicness as Liberal DemocracyNordicness in heavy metal, as we have argued, has been ascribed cultural capital as both a branded, generic phenomenon and as a marker of ancestral, ethnonational belonging. Understandings of “Nordic” as an exclusory ethnic category marked by strict boundaries however come into conflict with the Nordic region’s self-perceptions as a liberal democracy.We propose an additional iteration for “Nordicness” as a means of pointing to the tensions that emerge between particular metallic imaginings of the “North” as a remote, uncompromising site of pagan liberty, and the material realities of modern Nordic nation states. We consider some new parameters for articulations of “Nordicness” in metal scenes: Nordicness as material and political conditions that have enabled the popularity of heavy metal in the region, and furthermore, the manifestations of such liberal democratic discourses in Nordic extreme metal scenes.Nordicness as a cultural, political brand is based in perceptions of the Nordic countries as “global good citizens”, “peace loving”, “conflict-resolution oriented” and “rational” (Loftsdóttir and Jensen 2). This modern conception of Nordicness is grounded in the region’s current political climate, which took its form in the post-World War II rejection of fascism and the following refugee crisis.Northern Europe’s reputation as a “famously tolerant political community” (Dworkin 487) can therefore be seen, one on hand, as a crucial disconnect from the intolerant North mediated by factions of Nordic extreme metal scenes and on the other, a political community that provides the material conditions which allow extreme metal to flourish. Nordicness here, we argue, is a crucial form of scenic infrastructure–albeit one that has been both celebrated and condemned in the sites and spaces of Nordic extreme metal.The productivity and stability of extreme metal in the Nordic countries has been attributed to a variety of institutional factors: the general relative prosperity of Northern Europe (Terry), Scandinavian legal structures (Maguire 156), universal welfare, high levels of state support for cultural development, and a broad emphasis on musical education in schools.Kahn-Harris argues that the Swedish metal scene is supported by the strength of the Swedish music industry and “Swedish civil society in general” (108). Music education is strongly supported by the state; Sweden’s relatively generous welfare and education system also “provide [an] effective subsidy for music making” (108). Furthermore, he argues that the Swedish scene has benefited from being closer to the “cultural mainstream of the country than is the case in many other countries” (108). Such close relationships to the “cultural mainstream” also invite a critical backlash against the state. The anarchistic anti-government stance of Swedish hardcore bands or the radical individualism of Norwegian black metal embodies this backlash.Early black metal is seen as a targeted response to the “oppressive and numbing social democracy which dominated Norwegian political life” (Moynihan and Søderlind 32). This spurning of social democracy is further articulated by Darkthrone founder Fenriz, who states that black metal “…is every man for himself… It is individualism above all” (True Norwegian Black Metal). Nordic extreme metal’s emphasis on independence and anti-modernity is hence immediately troubled by the material reality of the conditions that allow it to flourish. Nordicness thus gains complex realisation as both radical individualism and democratic infrastructural conditions.In looking towards future directions for expressions of the “Nordic” in extreme metal scenes, we want to consider how Nordicness can be articulated not as exclusory ethnic belonging and individualist misanthropy, but rather illustrate how Nordic scenes have also proffered sites for progressive, anti-racist discourses that speak to the cultural branding of the North as a tolerant political community.Imaginings of the North as ethnically homogenous or pure are complicated by Nordic bands and fans who actively critique such racialised discourses, and instead situate “Nordic” metal as a site of heterogeneity and anti-racist activism. The liberal politics of the region are most clearly articulated in the music of Swedish hardcore and extreme metal bands, particularly those originating in the northern university town of Umeå. Like much of Europe’s underground music scene, Umeå hardcore bands are often aligned with the anti-fascist movement and its message of tolerance and active anti-racist, anti-homophobic and anti-sexist resistance and protest. Refused is the most well-known example, speaking out against capitalism and in favour of animal rights and civil liberties. Scandinavian DIY acts have also long played a crucial role in facilitating the global diffusion of anti-capitalist punk and hardcore music (Haenfler 287).Nonetheless, whilst such acts remain important sites of progressive discourses in homogenous constructions of Nordicness, such an argument for tolerance and diversity is difficult to maintain when the majority of the scene’s successful bands are made up of white, ethnically Scandinavian men. As such, in moving towards future considerations for Nordicness in extreme metal scenes, we thus call into focus a fragmentation of “Nordicness”, precisely to divorce it from homogenous constructions of the “Nordic”, and enable greater critical interrogation and plurality of the notion of the “North” in metal scholarship.ConclusionThis article has pointed towards a multiplicity of Nordic discourses that unfold in metal: Nordic as a marketing tool, Nordic as an ethnic signifier, and Nordic as the political reality of liberal democratic Northern Europe–and the tensions that emerge in their encounters and intersections. In arguing for multiple understandings of “Nordicness” in metal, we contend that the cultural capital that accompanies the “Nordic” actually emerges as a series of fragmented, often conflicting categories.In examining how images of the North as an isolated location at the edge of the world inform the branded construction of Nordic metal as sites of presumed authenticity, we considered how scenes such as Swedish death metal and Norwegian black metal were marketed precisely through their Nordicness, where their geographic isolation from the commercial centre of heavy metal was used to affirm their “Otherness” to their mainstream metal counterparts. This “otherness” has in turn enabled constructions of Nordic metal scenes as sites of not only metallic purity in their isolation from “commercial” metal scenes, but also ethnic homogeneity. Nordicness, in this instance, becomes inscribed with explicitly racialised value that interpellates images of Viking heathenry to bolster phantasmic imaginings of the pure, white North.However, as we argue in the third section, such exclusory narratives of Nordic belonging come into conflict with Northern Europe’s own self image as a site of progressive liberal democracy. We argue that Nordicness here can be taken as a political imperative towards socialist democracy, wherein such conditions have enabled the widespread viability of extreme metal; yet also invited critical backlashes against the modern political state.Ultimately, in responding to our own research question–what is the cultural capital of “Nordicness” in metal?–we assert that such capital is realised in multiple iterations, undermining any possibility of a uniform category of “Nordicness”, and exposing its political tensions and paradoxes. In doing so, we argue that “Nordicness”, as it is represented in heavy metal scenes, cannot be considered a uniform, essential category, but rather one marked by tensions and paradoxes that undercut the possibility of any singular understanding of the “North”. ReferencesBlaagaard, Bolette Benedictson. “Relocating Whiteness in Nordic Media Discourse.” Rethinking Nordic Colonialism: A Postcolonial Exhibition Project in Five Acts. NIFCE, Nordic Institute for Contemporary Art, Helsinki 5 (2006). 5 Oct. 2017 <http://www.rethinking-nordic-colonialism.org/files/pdf/ACT5/ESSAYS/Blaagaard.pdf>.Brown, Andy R. “Everything Louder than Everyone Else: The Origins and Persistence of Heavy Metal Music and Its Global Cultural Impact.” The Sage Handbook of Popular Music. Eds. Andy Bennett and Steve Waksman. London: Sage, 2015. 261–277.Darkthrone. Transilvanian Hunger. Written and performed by Darkthrone. Peaceville, 1994.Frith, Simon. Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.Grandoni, Dino. “A World Map of Metal Bands per Capita.” The Atlantic, Mar. 2012. 5 Oct. 2017 <https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2012/03/world-map-metal-band-population-density/329913/>.Grimley. Daniel M. Grieg: Music, Landscape and Norwegian Identity. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2006.Haenfler, Ross. “Punk Rock, Hardcore and Globalisation.” The Sage Handbook of Popular Music. Eds. Andy Bennett and Steve Waksman. London: Sage, 2015. 278–296.Hagen, Ross. “Musical Style, Ideology, and Mythology in Norwegian Black Metal”. Metal Rules the Globe: Heavy Metal Music around the World. Eds. Jeremy Wallach, Harris M. Berger, and Paul D. Greene. Durham: Duke University Press, 2011. 180–199.Kahn-Harris, Keith. Extreme Metal: Music and Culture on the Edge. New York: Berg, 2007.Loftsdóttir, Kristín, and Lars Jensen. “Nordic Exceptionalism and the Nordic Others”. Whiteness and Postcolonialism in the Nordic Region: Exceptionalism, Migrant Others and National Identities. Eds. Kristín Loftsdóttir and Lars Jensen. New York: Routledge, 2016. 1–12.Lucas, Caroline, Mark Deeks, and Karl Spracklen. “Grim Up North: Northern England, Northern Europe and Black Metal.” Journal for Cultural Research 15.3 (2011): 279–295.Maguire, Donald. "Determinants of the Production of Heavy Metal Music." Metal Music Studies 1.1 (2014): 155–169.Moore, Allan. “Authenticity as Authentication.” Popular Music 21.2 (2002): 209–223.Moynihan, Michael, and Didrik Søderlind. Lords of Chaos: The Bloody Rise of the Satanic Metal Underground. Los Angeles: Feral House, 1998.Spracklen, Karl. “True Aryan Black Metal: The Meaning of Leisure, Belonging and the Construction of Whiteness in Black Metal Music.” Metal Void: First Gatherings. Eds. Niall W.R. Scott and Imke von Helden. Oxford: Inter-Disciplinary Press, 2010. 81–92.———. “To Holmgard … and Beyond’: Folk Metal Fantasies and Hegemonic White Masculinities.” Metal Music Studies 1.3 (2015): 359–377.Terry, Josh. “Countries Where Heavy Metal Is Popular Are More Wealthy and Content with Life, According to Study.” Consequence of Sound, June 2014. 5 Oct. 2017 <https://consequenceofsound.net/2014/06/countries-where-heavy-metal-is-popular-are-more-wealthy-and-content-with-life-according-to-study/>.Trafford, Simon, and Aleks Pluskowski. “Antichrist Superstars: The Vikings in Hard Rock and Heavy Metal.” Mass Market Medieval: Essays on the Middle Ages in Popular Culture. Ed. David W. Marshall. North Carolina: McFarland & Company, 2007. 57–73.True Norwegian Black Metal. Dir. Peter Beste. VBSTV, 2007.Until the Light Takes Us. Dirs. Aaron Aites and Audrey Ewell. Variance Films, 2008.Von Helden, Imke. “Scandinavian Metal Attack: The Power of Northern Europe in Extreme Metal.” Heavy Fundametalisms: Music, Metal and Politics. Eds. Rosemary Hill and Karl Spracklen. Oxford: Inter-Disciplinary Press, 2010. 33–41.Weaver, James. “Now Trending Globally: Finnish Metal Music.” This Is Finland, June 2015. 5 Oct. 2017 <https://finland.fi/arts-culture/now-trending-globally-finnish-metal-music/>.

Introduction Greater resilience is associated with the ability to self-organise, and with social learning as part of a process of adaptation and transformation (Goldstein 341). This article deals with responses to a crisis in a Norwegian community in the late 1880s, and with some of the many internal conflicts it caused. The crisis and the subsequent conflicts in this particular community, Volda, were caused by a number of processes, driven mostly by external forces and closely linked to the expansion of the capitalist mode of production in rural Norway. But the crisis also reflects a growing nationalism in Norway. In the late 1880s, all these causes seemed to come together in Volda, a small community consisting mostly of independent small farmers and of fishers. The article employs the concept of ‘resilience’ and the theory of resilience in order better to understand how individuals and the community reacted to crisis and conflict in Volda in late 1880, experiences which will cast light on the history of the late 1880s in Volda, and on individuals and communities elsewhere which have also experienced such crises. Theoretical Perspectives Some understandings of social resilience inspired by systems theory and ecology focus on a society’s ability to maintain existing structures. Reducing conflict to promote greater collaboration and resilience, however, may become a reactionary strategy, perpetuating inequalities (Arthur, Friend and Marschke). Instead, the understanding of resilience could be enriched by drawing on ecological perspectives that see conflict as an integral aspect of a diverse ecology in continuous development. In the same vein, Grove has argued that some approaches to anticipatory politics fashion subjects to withstand ‘shocks and responding to adversity through modern institutions such as human rights and the social contract, rather than mobilising against the sources of insecurity’. As an alternative, radical politics of resilience ought to explore political alternatives to the existing order of things. Methodology According to Hall and Lamont, understanding “how individuals, communities, and societies secured their well-being” in the face of the challenges imposed by neoliberalism is a “problem of understanding the bases for social resilience”. This article takes a similarly broad approach to understanding resilience, focusing on a small group of people within a relatively small community to understand how they attempted to secure their well-being in the face of the challenges posed by capitalism and growing nationalism. The main interest, however, is not resilience understood as something that exists or is being produced within this small group, but, rather, how this group produced social imaginaries of the past and the future in cooperation and conflict with other groups in the same community. The research proceeds to analyse the contributions mainly of six members of this small group. It draws on existing literature on the history of the community in the late 1800s and, in particular, biographies of Synnøve Riste (Øyehaug) and Rasmus Steinsvik (Gausemel). In addition, the research builds on original empirical research of approximately 500 articles written by the members of the group in the period from 1887 to 1895 and published in the newspapers Vestmannen, Fedraheimen and 17de Mai; and will try to re-tell a history of key events, referring to a selection of these articles. A Story about Being a Woman in Volda in the Late 1880s This history begins with a letter from Synnøve Riste, a young peasant woman and daughter of a local member of parliament, to Anders Hovden, a friend and theology student. In the letter, Synnøve Riste told her friend about something she just had experienced and had found disturbing (more details in Øyehaug). She first sets her story in the context of an evangelical awakening that was gaining momentum in the community. There was one preacher in particular who seemed to have become very popular among the young women. He had few problems when it comes to women, she wrote, ironically. Curious about the whole thing, Synnøve decided to attend a meeting to see for herself what was going on. The preacher noticed her among the group of young women. He turned his attention towards her and scolded her for her apparent lack of religious fervour. In the letter she explained the feeling of shame that came over her when the preacher singled her out for public criticism. But the feeling of shame soon gave way to anger, she wrote, before adding that the worst part of it was ‘not being able to speak back’; as a woman at a religious meeting she had to hold her tongue. Synnøve Riste was worried about the consequences of the religious awakening. She asked her friend to do something. Could he perhaps write a poem for the weekly newspaper the group had begun to publish only a few months earlier? Anders Hovden duly complied. The poem was published, anonymously, on Wednesday 17 March 1888. Previously, the poem says, women enjoyed the freedom to roam the mountains and valleys. Now, however, a dark mood had come over the young women. ‘Use your mind! Let the madness end! Throw off the blood sucker! And let the world see that you are a woman!’ The puritans appreciated neither the poem nor the newspaper. The newspaper was published by the same group of young men and women who had already organised a private language school for those who wanted to learn to read and write New Norwegian, a ‘new’ language based on the old dialects stemming from the time before Norway lost its independence and became a part of Denmark and then, after 1814, Sweden. At the language school the students read and discussed translations of Karl Marx and the anarchist Peter Kropotkin. The newspaper quickly grew radical. It reported on the riots following the hanging of the Haymarket Anarchists in Chicago in 1886. It advocated women’s suffrage, agitated against capitalism, argued that peasants and small farmers must learn solidarity from the industrial workers defended a young woman in Oslo who was convicted of killing her newborn baby and published articles from international socialist and anarchist newspapers and magazines. Social Causes for Individual Resilience and Collaborative Resilience Recent literature on developmental psychology link resilience to ‘the availability of close attachments or a supportive and disciplined environment’ (Hall and Lamont 13). Some psychologists have studied how individuals feel empowered or constrained by their environment. Synnøve Riste clearly felt constrained by developments in her social world, but was also resourceful enough to find ways to resist and engage in transformational social action on many levels. According to contemporary testimonies, Synnøve Riste must have been an extraordinary woman (Steinsvik "Synnøve Riste"). She was born Synnøve Aarflot, but later married Per Riste and took his family name. The Aarflot family was relatively well-off and locally influential, although the farms were quite small by European standards. Both her father and her uncle served as members of parliament for the (‘left’) Liberal Party. From a young age she took responsibility for her younger siblings and for the family farm, as her father spent much time in the capital. Her grandfather had been granted the privilege of printing books and newspapers, which meant that she grew up with easy access to current news and debates. She married a man of her own choosing; a man substantially older than herself, but with a reputation for liberal ideas on language, education and social issues. Psychological approaches to resilience consider the influence of cognitive ability, self-perception and emotional regulation, in addition to social networks and community support, as important sources of resilience (Lamont, Welburn and Fleming). Synnøve Riste’s friend and lover, Rasmus Steinsvik, later described her as ‘a mainspring’ of social activity. She did not only rely on family, social networks and community support to resist stigmatisation from the puritans, but she was herself a driving force behind social activities that produced new knowledge and generated communities of support for others. Lamont, Welburn and Fleming underline the importance for social resilience of cultural repertoires and the availability of ‘alternative ways of understanding social reality’ (Lamont, Welburn and Fleming). Many of the social activities Synnøve Riste instigated served as arenas for debate and collaborative activity to develop alternative understandings of the social reality of the community. In 1887, Synnøve Riste had relied on support from her extended family to found the newspaper Vestmannen, but as the group around the language school and newspaper gradually produced more radical alternative understandings of the social reality they came increasingly into conflict with less radical members of the Liberal Party. Her uncle owned the printing press where Vestmannen was printed. He was also a member of parliament seeking re-election. And he was certainly not amused when Rasmus Steinsvik, editor of Vestmannen, published an article reprimanding him for his lacklustre performance in general and his unprincipled voting in support of a budget allocating the Swedish king a substantial amount of money. Steinsvik advised the readers to vote instead for Per Riste, Synnøve Riste’s liberal husband and director of the language school. The uncle stopped printing the newspaper. Social Resilience in Volda The growing social conflicts in Volda might be taken to indicate a lack of resilience. This, however, would be a mistake. Social connectedness is an important source of social resilience (Barnes and Hall 226). Strong ties to family and friends matter, as does membership in associations. Dense networks of social connectedness are related to well-being and social resilience. Inversely, high levels of inequality seem to be linked to low levels of resilience. Participation in democratic processes has also been found to be an important source of resilience (Barnes and Hall 229). Volda was a small community with relatively low levels of inequality and local cultural traditions underlining the importance of cooperation and the obligations of everyone to participate in various forms of communal work. Similarly, even though a couple of families dominated local politics, there was no significant socioeconomic division between the average and the more prosperous farmers. Traditionally, women on the small, independent farms participated actively in most aspects of social life. Volda would thus score high on most indicators predicting social resilience. Reading the local newspapers confirms this impression of high levels of social resilience. In fact, this small community of only a few hundred families produced two competing newspapers at the time. Vestmannen dedicated ample space to issues related to education and schools, including adult education, reflecting the fact that Volda was emerging as a local educational centre; local youths attending schools outside the community regularly wrote articles in the newspaper to share the new knowledge they had attained with other members of the community. The topics were in large part related to farming, earth sciences, meteorology and fisheries. Vestmannen also reported on other local associations and activities. The local newspapers reported on numerous political meetings and public debates. The Liberal Party was traditionally the strongest political party in Volda and pushed for greater independence from Sweden, but was divided between moderates and radicals. The radicals joined workers and socialists in demanding universal suffrage, including, as we have seen, women’s right to vote. The left libertarians in Volda organised a ‘radical left’ faction of the Liberal Party and in the run-up to the elections in 1888 numerous rallies were arranged. In some parts of the municipality the youth set up independent and often quite radical youth organisations, while others established a ‘book discussion’. The language issue developed into a particularly powerful source for social resilience. All members of the community shared the experience of having to write and speak a foreign language when communicating with authorities or during higher education. It was a shared experience of discrimination that contributed to producing a common identity. Hing has shown that those who value their in-group ‘can draw on this positive identity to provide a sense of self-worth that offers resilience’. The struggle for recognition stimulated locals to arrange independent activities, and it was in fact through the burgeoning movement for a New Norwegian language that the local radicals in Volda first encountered radical literature that helped them reframe the problems and issues of their social world. In his biography of Ivar Mortensson Egnund, editor of the newspaper Fedraheimen and a lifelong collaborator of Rasmus Steinsvik, Klaus Langen has argued that Mortensson Egnund saw the ideal type of community imagined by the anarchist Leo Tolstoy in the small Norwegian communities of independent small farmers, a potential model for cooperation, participation and freedom. It was not an uncritical perspective, however. The left libertarians were constantly involved in clashes with what they saw as repressive forces within the communities. It is probably more correct to say that they believed that the potential existed, within these communities, for freedom to flourish. Most importantly, however, reading Fedraheimen, and particularly the journalist, editor and novelist Arne Garborg, infused this group of local radicals with anti-capitalist perspectives to be used to make sense of the processes of change that affected the community. One of Garborg’s biographers, claims that no Norwegian has ever been more fundamentally anti-capitalist than Garborg (Thesen). This anti-capitalism helped the radicals in Volda to understand the local conflicts and the evangelical awakening as symptoms of a deeper and more fundamental development driven by capitalism. A series of article in Vestmannen called for solidarity and unity between small farmers and the growing urban class of industrial workers. Science and Modernity The left libertarians put their hope in science and modernity to improve the lives of people. They believed that education was the key to move forward and get rid of the old and bad ways of doing things. The newspaper was reporting the latest advances in natural sciences and life sciences. It reported enthusiastically about the marvels of electricity, and speculated about a future in which Norway could exploit the waterfalls to generate it on a large scale. Vestmannen printed articles in defence of Darwinism (Egnund), new insights from astronomy (Steinsvik "Kva Den Nye Astronomien"), health sciences, agronomy, new methods of fishing and farming – and much more. This was a time when such matters mattered. Reports on new advances in meteorology in the newspaper appeared next to harrowing reports about the devastating effects of a storm that surprised local fishermen at sea where many men regularly paid with their lives. Hunger was still a constant threat in the harsh winter months, so new knowledge that could improve the harvest was most welcome. Leprosy and other diseases continued to be serious problems in this region of Norway. Health could not be taken lightly, and the left libertarians believed that science and knowledge was the only way forward. ‘Knowledge is a sweet fruit,’ Vestmannen wrote. Reporting on Darwinism and astronomy again pitted Vestmannen against the puritans. On several occasions the newspaper reported on confrontations between those who promoted science and those who defended a fundamentalist view of the Bible. In November 1888 the signature ‘-t’ published an article on a meeting that had taken place a few days earlier in a small village not far from Volda (Unknown). The article described how local teachers and other participants were scolded for holding liberal views on science and religion. Anyone who expressed the view that the Bible should not be interpreted literally risked being stigmatised and ostracised. It is tempting to label the group of left libertarians ‘positivists’ or ‘modernists’, but that would be unfair. Arne Garborg, the group’s most important source of inspiration, was indeed inspired by Émile Zola and the French naturalists. Garborg had argued that nothing less than the uncompromising search for truth was acceptable. Nevertheless, he did not believe in objectivity; Garborg and his followers agreed that it was not possible or even desirable to be anything else than subjective. Adaptation or Transformation? PM Giærder, a friend of Rasmus Steinsvik’s, built a new printing press with the help of local blacksmiths, so the newspaper could keep afloat for a few more months. Finally, however, in 1888, the editor and the printer took the printing press with them and moved to Tynset, another small community to the east. There they joined forces with another dwindling left libertarian publication, Fedraheimen. Generations later, more details emerged about the hurried exit from Volda. Synnøve Riste had become pregnant, but not by her husband Per. She was pregnant by Rasmus Steinsvik, the editor of Vestmannen and co-founder of the language school. And then, after giving birth to a baby daughter she fell ill and died. The former friends Per and Rasmus were now enemies and the group of left libertarians in Volda fell apart. It would be too easy to conclude that the left libertarians failed to transform the community and a closer look would reveal a more nuanced picture. Key members of the radical group went on to play important roles on the local and national political scene. Locally, the remaining members of the group formed new alliances with former opponents to continue the language struggle. The local church gradually began to sympathise with those who agitated for a new language based on the Norwegian dialects. The radical faction of the Liberal Party grew in importance as the conflict with Sweden over the hated union intensified. The anarchists Garborg and Steinsvik became successful editors of a radical national newspaper, 17de Mai, while two other members of the small group of radicals went on to become mayors of Volda. One was later elected member of parliament for the Liberal Party. Many of the more radical anarchist and communist ideas failed to make an impact on society. However, on issues such as women’s rights, voting and science, the left libertarians left a lasting impression on the community. It is fair to say that they contributed to transforming their society in many and lasting ways. Conclusion This study of crisis and conflict in Volda indicate that conflict can play an important role in social learning and collective creativity in resilient communities. There is a tendency, in parts of resilience literature, to view resilient communities as harmonious wholes without rifts or clashes of interests (see for instance Goldstein; Arthur, Friend and Marschke). Instead, conflicts should rather be understood as a natural aspect of any society adapting and transforming itself to respond to crisis. Future research on social resilience could benefit from an ecological understanding of nature that accepts polarisation and conflict as a natural part of ecology and which helps us to reach deeper understandings of the social world, also fostering learning, creativity and the production of alternative political solutions. This research has indicated the importance of social imaginaries of the past. Collective memories of ‘what everybody knows that everybody else knows’ about ‘what has worked in the past’ form the basis for producing ideas about how to create collective action (Swidler 338, 39). Historical institutions are pivotal in producing schemas which are default options for collective action. In Volda, the left libertarians imagined a potential for freedom in the past of the community; this formed the basis for producing an alternative social imaginary of the future of the community. The social imaginary was not, however, based only on local experience and collective memory of the past. Theories played an important role in the process of trying to understand the past and the present in order to imagine future alternatives. The conflicts themselves stimulated the radicals to search more widely and probe more deeply for alternative explanations to the problems they experienced. This search led them to new insights which were sometimes adopted by the local community and, in some cases, helped to transform social life in the long-run. References Arthur, Robert, Richard Friend, and Melissa Marschke. "Fostering Collaborative Resilience through Adaptive Comanagement: Reconciling Theory and Practice in the Management of Fisheries in the Mekong Region." Collaborative Resilience: Moving through Crisis to Opportunity. Ed. Bruce Evan Goldstein. Cambridge, Mass., and London: MIT Press, 2012. 255-282. Barnes, Lucy, and Peter A. Hall. "Neoliberalism and Social Resilience in the Developed Democracies." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 209-238. Egnund, Ivar Mortensson. "Motsetningar." Vestmannen 13.6 (1889): 3. Gausemel, Steffen. Rasmus Steinsvik. Oslo: Noregs boklag, 1937. Goldstein, Bruce Evan. "Collaborating for Transformative Resilience." Collaborative Resilience: Moving through Crisis to Opportunity. Ed. Bruce Evan Goldstein. Cambridge, Mass., and London: MIT Press, 2012. 339-358. Hall, Peter A., and Michèle Lamont. "Introduction." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Lamont, Michèle, Jessica S Welburn, and Crystal M Fleming. "Responses to Discrimination and Social Resilience under Neoliberalism: The United States Compared." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 129-57. Steinsvik, Rasmus. "Kva Den Nye Astronomien Kan Lære Oss." Vestmannen 8.2 (1889): 1. ———. "Synnøve Riste." Obituary. Vestmannen 9.11 (1889): 1. Swidler, Ann. "Cultural Sources of Institutional Resilience: Lessons from Chieftaincy in Rural Malawi." Social Resilience in the Neoliberal Era. Eds. Peter A. Hall and Michèle Lamont. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013.