THE THINGS I DIDN’T REALIZE I DIDN’T KNOW (BECAUSE I’M A “DUMB SWEDE”?)

MAY 17, 2025 – As readers might know or guess by my name, I’m of Swedish descent. Though Swedes have no monopoly on “Eric,” I’m guessing a higher percentage of Swedes and people of Swedish descent are called “Eric” than is the case in all other lands, except, perhaps, Norway and Denmark (but in those countries, it would be spelled with a “k”) and Germany (where it would be spelled with a “ch”). But “Nilsson”? Now that’s a purely Swedish name: “Nils” being a popular first given name in Sweden, but most important, the “son of Nils”—thus “Nilsson” (to “s’s” and “o-n,” not “e-n”)—being unique to Sweden, where, it turns out, “Nilsson” is the seventh most common surname[1].

Okay. Where am I going with all this? Norway, of course! And today, as all self-respecting Norwegians and people of Norwegian descent are fully aware, is “Syttende Mai,” or “May 17^th” or more formally, “Constitution Day” and “National Day,” which is a very big deal in Norway and among people outside Norway who identify with their Norwegian roots.

Still, what connection do I, of Swedish descent, have with Norway? Well, for starters, my wife’s Scandinavian roots are split between Sweden and . . . Norway. This is not untypical here in the Upper Midwest, where Swedish and Norwegian immigrants of our grandparents’ generation often settled on the farmlands of Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and the Dakotas. Also, I have a second cousin, Russ, who’s Swedish grandmother (my great aunt) married a Norwegian, rendering Russ as much Norwegian as Swedish. Swedes and Norwegians have long shared common attributes, from looks to language to various customs. Jokes have long persisted about “rifts and rivalries” between the two groups, but for the most part, this has been in jest; a source of amusement during the long dark northern nights of winter that the two lands share.[2]

I say, “for the most part,” because back in 1905, when large waves of Scandinavian immigrants were washing up on American shores, a fear arose that Norway and Sweden would go to war—and not shooting salmon or sardines with a slingshot but real artillery shells and rifle bullets.

But still, what does the title of this post, “The Things I Didn’t Realize I Didn’t Know” have to do with any of the foregoing? Aha! Here now is my confession . . .

Despite having grown up surrounded by Swedes and Norwegians; and worse, notwithstanding my near obsession with the study of history, particularly European history, I always thought that Syttende Mai was a celebration of Norway’s independence from Sweden in 1905. Yet, not until today—today, mind you, when I am nearer the age of 71 than 70!—did I realize that no, Norway’s disunion (full independence) from Sweden occurred through a process running between June 7 and November 18, 1905. It’s hard to celebrate—i.e. hold parades with marching bands, call off school, dress up on traditional folk costumes, and wave 10,000 Norwegian flags every day to celebrate a four-and-a-half-month independence process. Syttende Mai reaches back to 1814.  My association of the Big Day in Norway with the year 1905 is as ignorant as thinking the American Independence Day dates back to 1867, the year in which we purchased Alaska from Russia, when every American school child knows (or should know), the year was 1776.

All history is complicated, and unfortunately, warfare is an unavoidably central feature of the history of nations.

In learning the complicated (relatively modern) history of Norway and Sweden, for starters the student must include Denmark and . . . the Napoleonic Wars. A good jumping-on point is the Treaty of Kiel at the outset of 1814. At the time, things weren’t going so well for France. Denmark, which controlled Norway, had been allied with France to this point against Great Britain (and Ireland) and Sweden. Under the Treaty of Kiel, Denmark agreed to allow Norway to slip under Sweden control.

The Norwegians, however, had different ideas. They were smitten by the nationalism bug, which had been unleashed by Napoleon, though it had over 30 years to go before it would ripen into the nationalist revolutions of 1848. In any event, the Norwegians strongly resented the idea of living under the thumb of Sweden. To express their sentiments in this regard, they adopted a constitution (and fairly enlightened one for its time)—on May 17, 1814 or syttende mai, 1814 or “Constitution Day.” The Norwegians calculated that this move would create momentum and lead to independence from Sweden. Sweden, of course, had an opposing view of things, and surprise, surprise, the two countries went to war.

Despite the extreme belligerency in their respective histories—think, The Vikings, on the Norwegian side, and the war-mongering Charles XII on the Swedish end of things[3]—the war between Norway and Sweden in the summer of 1814 lasted all of two weeks. It ended with the signing of the Convention of Moss (located on the east side of Oslofjørd) on August 14, 1814. Though you could say the result was favorable to Norway, since the Land of Fjørds was allowed to keep its new constitution and enjoy considerable independence in all matters except foreign policy. Also, the two countries would be in a personal union under the same monarch—the King of Sweden.

By the dawn of the 20^th century, however, Norway was chafing from Sweden’s protectionist trade policies and under-representation of Norwegian interests in consular matters and policies around the world. As rumblings of war began to ripple across the realm and both Norway and Sweden ramped up their military expenditures, the Norwegian Prime Minister, Christian Michelsen, formed a coalition government of liberals and conservatives for the sole objective of establishing consular offices independent from Sweden. The Swedish King vetoed the move, whereupon the Norwegian government resigned, but the King refused to accept, creating a constitutional crisis. In what would become the typical fashion of Swedes and Norwegians of the modern age, the King eventually came around to the idea of granting Norway full independence, provided, however, a plebiscite affirmed.

The condition was a no-brainer for the Norwegians. On August 13, 1905, in a turnout by 85% of eligible voters (all men (368,392); women’s suffrage wasn’t adopted until 1913), 99.95% voted in favor of a clean break from Sweden. (Activists had rounded up the signatures of 279,878 women also in support of dissolution of the union with Sweden.)

By November, a plan was worked out for establishment of an hereditary monarchy via a Danish Royal, Prince Carl, who chose the name, Haakon VII, in keeping with the line of King Haakons ending in 1380 with Haakon VI.

The rest . . . as it is said . . . is history, and on this Syttende Mai, I now I know one new thing that I hadn’t realized I didn’t know before: Syttende Mai goes back to 1814, not 1905. But then again . . . as it has been said . . . I’m but a dumb Swede.

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© 2025 by Eric Nilsson

[1] After finishing the Stockholm Marathon in 1982, I wound up in the ER of a hospital near the finish (the old Olympic Stadium). I had planned to meet up with two of my cousins, Mats-Åke and Anders, who were also running the race. Because of my hospitalization and since 1982 preceded the Age of Instant Connectivity, we had no means of communicating after the race. From a pay phone my cousins began calling area hospitals (there were so many marathon casualties, runners needing medical attention had to be dispersed among several facilities). In the process of calling, Mats and Anders discovered just how common was the combination of “Eric” and “Nilsson.”

[2] To adjust your attitude about latitude, check out a world map, and you’ll see that the capital cities of Norway (Oslo) and Sweden (Stockholm) (with Finland (Helsinki (“Helsingfors” in Swedish, the second language of Finland, at one time under Swedish control, until is was wrested away by Russia)) added to stress the point) are at the same parallel, roughly, as Anchorage, Alaska.

[3]At the tender age of 18, Charles XII defeated the much larger forces under the giant Tsar, Peter the Great, in the Battle of Narva (in Swedish Ingria; today, Estonia). At 24, Charles XII had defeated all his foes in the Great Northern War. But then, as Napolean did in 1812 and Hitler in 1941, the Swedish king bit off more than he could chew. He attacked Russia, but in 1708 the Russian Bear ate him for lunch in the Battle of Poltava (in the Cossack Hetmanate under Russa at the time and in what is now Ukraine).