King Harald Finehair (standing) from a a saga manuscript.
Fair warning—we shall trudge a good distance into the deep Viking grass in this post. I’m going to propose a new paradigm for thinking about the Vikings, which will surely change Scandinavian studies forever. So if you come to this blog in spite of my Viking stuff, you’ll probably want to skip what follows.
I’ve written about some of these ideas before, but my surviving brain cells recently sparked across a couple gaps, and came up with Walker’s New Theory of Viking Norway.
It all starts with the origins of the Viking Age. The most common explanation for the sudden violence, quoted to this day in most books on the Vikings, is Overpopulation. The theory is that the Norse had so many babies that Scandinavia ran out of food and arable land. So hungry younger sons had to sail abroad to make their fortunes by the sword.
The problem with this theory is that there is not a scrap of evidence, either in archeology, the sagas, or outside accounts, for any food shortage at that time. This was in fact during the Medieval Warm Period, and life seems to have actually been pretty good. The popularity of the theory seems to arise solely from the fact that it harmonizes with Marxist ideology.
An older theory, put forth by Edward Gibbon and David Hume (championed by Torgrim Titlestad in his book Viking Norway, which I reviewed here), was that the early Viking raids were a response, led by the very powerful king of Denmark, to pressure from the empire of Charlemagne. Charlemagne defeated the Saxons at Verden at 782, baptized 4,500 prisoners, and then (according to most authorities) beheaded them.
According to this theory, the unexpected raid on Lindisfarne in England in 793 (generally used as a starting date for the Viking Age, though there were certainly earlier raids) was calculated to send a message to Christian Europe. Lindsifarne was the foremost center of Christian scholarship in western Europe, and Charlemagne’s chief advisor, Alcuin of York, had been educated there. The thought is that it was intended to send a message to Christian Europe: “You want a holy war? We can play that game too.”
I’ve always resisted this theory, because it turns the Viking Age into a religious conflict, one in which my sentiments must be with the Christians. Since I’m a Viking enthusiast and reenactor, I don’t like to think I’m participating in an essentially heathen field of activity.
But this is where the special case of Viking Norway comes in.
It’s generally believed that King Harald Finehair, who ruled (probably) from about 872 to 930, was the first king to attempt to unify the Norwegian petty kingdoms into a single monarchy (doubtless much smaller than present Norway). One of the few things we know about this shadowy figure is that he had some kind of diplomatic relations with King Athelstan the Glorious of England.
Now why would the king of England want an alliance with a Norwegian king, one who (one would imagine) would be a natural enemy?
Well, they had one common interest—countering the power of Denmark. Danish Vikings were the primary group who raided in England. And Denmark claimed sovereignty over Norway. It was to Athelstan’s and Harald’s mutual benefit to oppose, divert, and frustrate the Danes.
Thus began (I believe) a long-standing friendship. It’s remarkable that, after some early Norwegian raids, the Vikings from Norway generally left England alone. They raided the Irish and the Scots instead, historical enemies of England.
In fact, with a few minor exceptions like the blockade of Norway during the Napoleonic Wars, the Norwegians and the English have been friends ever since.
If we skip ahead to about the year 995, we have a new king, Olaf Trygvesson, sailing to Norway to take the throne (you can read about this in my book The Year of the Warrior). Where does he sail from? From England. In fact, we know from the record that he was subsidized by the king of England, Ethelred the Unrede, to the tune of £22,000, a huge investment (and a bad one, since Olaf only lasted five years. But hardly Ethelred’s first or last mistake). The idea was to distract Denmark and divide Danish forces, giving the Danes a war on two fronts.
Jump forward to 1015, and the second Olaf, Olaf Haraldsson (who would become St. Olaf) arrives in Norway. And where does he come from?
England.
Do you see a pattern?
We don’t know exactly whose idea it was for Olaf to go. The sources contradict each other. Olaf may have gone with the blessing of King Svein Forkbeard of Denmark, promising to be his underling (and betraying him). Or he may have been sent by Ethelred. He may have even been subsidized by Ethelred, like the first Olaf. Perhaps all of the above are true (it wouldn’t surprise me).
In any case, the results were the same—trouble for Denmark. Norway was a thorn in Svein’s side, even as he contemplated the conquest of England (in which he ultimately succeeded).
So what do we have here?
We have two sides. There’s Denmark and its allies and dependents, originally motivated by resistance to Charlemagne’s forced conversions. Even after Denmark has converted, the political opposition remains. You’ve got older Christian Europe (led by Frankia and England) on one side, and heathen (and newly Christian) Europe—mainly Scandinavia—on the other.
And which side is Norway on?
The Christian side.
Norway, even before its conversion, was assisting England in resisting Denmark. For political rather than religious reasons, but assisting nonetheless.
This puts Norway, in a real sense, in the Christian sphere, even before it became Christian.
As a Christian Viking buff, this idea pleases me greatly.