Happy birthday, Norway!

If this were a eulogy, it certainly has arrived too late. Why? Because our Constitution Day was May 17, two days ago. And yet I want to take the opportunity, not to eulogize Norway or us native Norwegians, but rather to  try to explain why we ought to celebrate that day next year as well.

Almost 200 years ago, our Founding Fathers convocated in what was then the small village of Eidsvoll, in the unusually spacious country home of a certain Mr. Anker. He and his compatriots were aglow with patriotism and the deep urge for independence from Danish rule. Spurred on by the budding American democratic experiment, the renowned men of the Eidsvold Assembly would work tirelessly throughout the months of April and May 1814, their efforts culminating May 17 with the signing of the Constitution document.

Due to several factors, our freedom was not to be had for another century, and so Norwegians had to postpone celebrations until June 1905, when the Norwegian electorate cast their votes in favour of creating a 'home rule' that excluded any future involvement or interference  from our then Swedish overlords.

1945: remembering our legacy

When Germany surrendered unconditionally May 8 1945, the outbursts of uninhibited joy and relief were rampant all over the country. Five arduous years of torment, five long years of freedom lost, had come to a thunderous close. Conflicting feelings of gratitude and hatred were vented on the streets and in the homes, as the populace prepared for the wartime anomaly that now was within grasp: all civil liberties that had been suspended under Nazi rule, were to be ours again - soon.

Nine days later, for the first time since 1939, all citizens great and small could brandish - not their guns - but their red, white and blue flags; clamouring down the streets in festive apparel, singing the formerly banned national anthem as well as the treasured songs no one had heard sung publicly for a long time. The euphoria was almost tangible, and the 17th of May Processions that year featured thousands of faces on which liberty had transfixed grins so wide and assertive nothing, it seemed, could remove them.

2010: forgetting our legacy

Sixtyfive years on, and next to all life seems to have whittled out of our 17th of May Parades. This time, as I was watching children toting flags with no apparent enthusiasm, I kept asking myself the question if the prolonged period of peace and prosperity our country has experienced since the war, has all but robbed us of our capacity for truly appreciating the freedoms we currently enjoy.

I don't mind the fact that children are far more concerned about downing liberal helpings of icecream and hotdogs on our Constitution Day. I don't mind the fact that Norway today is both ethnically and religiously mixed to an extent that former generations could never have envisioned. I don't mind the fact that immigrants and asylum seekers are ignorant of our heroes of WW2. I don't mind most of the new scents, sights  and tradtitions that post-war life has introduced in this country.

But I do mind the absence of appreciation, vocal or symbolic, that seems to escalate year by year. As songs of gratitude are silenced, as the vigorous oubursts of joy die down, we risk losing - not our freedom in the short run, but we risk losing the awareness that in order for freedom to survive, we need constantly to relearn to appreciate it - in whatever forms and expressions that can be imagined. Why?

Because we will not, in the long run, sufficiently hedge or protect that which we do not fully appreciate. Where indifference holds sway, tyranny is waiting to reenter the scene.