“The Miraculous Year”
by Nils Ivar Agøy
The adoption of the Constitution on May 17, 1814, is probably the historical event that Norwegians are most frequently and insistently reminded of today. May 17 is a national holiday enjoying practically universal support. The Bicentennial of the Constitution will be celebrated throughout all of 2014 with hundreds of events, including seminars, concerts, plays, book-launchings, meetings, symposia, festivals, ballet and theatre performances, exhibitions, re-enactments, church services, and even memorial cruises. There are good reasons for this.
The 1814 Constitution not only provided the basis on which a modern political system could be built, but it also became, as we shall see, the main symbol of national unity and national values. And 1814 was an annus mirabilis. When it started, Norway was part of the Kingdom of DenmarkNorway, one of the strictest absolutist states in Europe, and ruled from Copenhagen. When it ended, Norway was a self-governing country sharing a king with Sweden, possessing possibly the most democratic constitution of the day—not granted as a favor from a prince, but written by elected representatives of the people. For five stormy months in between, Norway had presented itself to the world as an independent state with a king of its own.
A classic debate among students of Norwegian history has been whether the dramatic changes of 1814 are to be understood mainly as the victorious outcome of mounting popular yearnings for liberty, or rather as an accidental gift of political circumstance. All agree, however, that it was Great Power politics that produced the opportunity for independence, and that it was eagerly grasped by the Norwegians.
Background
In 1807, the British government demanded the surrender of the Danish-Norwegian naval fleet to prevent it falling into the hands of the emperor Napoleon, Great Britain’s enemy. Denmark-Norway, a neutral country, understandably declined. Copenhagen was then bombed into submission by a strong British force, and the fleet seized. These events forced Denmark-Norway into an alliance with Napoleon and thus into war with Great Britain.
The war proved a disaster for Norway. Britain ruled the waves and used her power to blockade Norway. The two great export trades, timber and fishing, were both severely hit, as was the all-important import of grain and other foodstuffs from Denmark. Norway could not feed itself even in normal years, and crops in both 1808 and 1809 were far below average. The poorer people starved as a result of royal policy, and the export merchants faced financial ruin.
Communications between Denmark and Norway also became very difficult and so, to avoid anarchy, the central government was forced to establish a series of emergency institutions in Norway. In a small way, Norway was governed as a separate unit again, for the first time in many generations. In May 1813, after crop failures in 1812 had led to widespread famine and riots, King Frederick VI sent the heir to the throne—his own cousin Christian Frederick—to lead the provisional Norwegian government.
In 1809, Sweden lost its entire eastern half, Finland, to Russia. Recapturing it seemed unrealistic, and so it became a political goal for the Swedish rulers to win a sort
of compensation to the west instead, by establishing a union with Norway. And seeing that the policies of the king in Copenhagen had only brought grief to the country, not all Norwegians were averse to such a union, particularly not among the commercial elite.
The war went badly for Denmark-Norway.
By January 1814, Schleswig had been overrun by forces led by Karl Johan, a former Marshal of France who had two years earlier been elected Crown Prince of Sweden, and King Frederick sued for peace. By the Treaty of Kiel, he ceded Norway to “His Majesty the King of Sweden, to form a Kingdom in Union with Sweden.”
Christian Frederick was ordered back to Denmark, but chose instead to stay in Norway and defy the treaty. In effect, he made himself the leader of a rebellion. Whether this was to try to preserve Norway for the House of Oldenburg in the hope of eventually reuniting it with Denmark, or to make his own throne, is not clear. But the main Swedish army was far away, so Norway was not under immediate military threat, and the Treaty of Kiel was very unpopular— many Norwegians did not feel that they had deserved to be ‘disposed of like cattle’ (and besides, Christian Frederick had kept secret the fact that the treaty allowed Norway to keep its identity as a separate kingdom).
Events now moved very fast. Christian Frederick was persuaded not to claim the Norwegian throne as his hereditary possession, but rather, in line with Enlightenment thought, to assert that sovereignty had now reverted to the people, who were free to elect a new ruler. In late February, he used the still fully functional and loyal government apparatus to proclaim that a Constitutional Assembly should meet in April, and that local congregations, as well as military units, should elect representatives to take part in it. At the same time, he demanded that the congregations should swear to defend Norwegian independence and sacrifice life and limb for the beloved fatherland. The oath was sworn publicly and could hardly be refused. Thus the prince bound the people more closely to the rebellion against the Treaty of Kiel.
The text of the Constitution was finished on May 17, 1814, and was signed by Christian Frederick later the same evening, after the assembly had unanimously voted him as King of an independent Norway. On the original painting you can read the law paragraph number (“Paragraf 115”) on the paper being held up and read by Christian Magnus Falsen, and historians have thus dated the event depicted on the painting to May 11, 1814. (In the final version, this paragraph ended up as § 110, and today it is § 112.) Around 70 of the 112 delegates who were present are painted in enough detail to be identified.
Oscar Wergeland (1844–1910), Riksforsamlingen på Eidsvoll 1814, 1885. Parliament of Norway Building, Oslo Norway. Wikipedia Commons, public domain.
The Constitutional Assembly
One hundred twelve delegates met at Eidsvoll in central South Norway on April 10, in the patrician home of Carsten Anker. They had largely been elected by male property owners over the age of 25. The commoners tended to vote for persons of rank, but both the counties and the military units had been instructed to send at least one farmer each, and so there were 37 farmers as well as 57 officeholders and 18 businessmen or large landowners. North Norway was not represented—there had not been enough time for the two northernmost counties to hold elections.
The Assembly soon split into two: the socalled Independence Party of about 80, which believed in the possibility of a fully independent Norway (and perhaps in the hope of a reunification with Denmark); and the Union Party, counting about 30, which believed that some sort of union with Sweden would have to be entered into and that the task at hand was to ensure that it happened on the most favorable terms possible. In both cases, however, Norway needed a constitution, and this had to be written from scratch.
The difficult assignment was accomplished in five weeks. This would hardly have been possible had not many delegates brought drafts in their luggage. About 20 such drafts have been preserved. They fall into two main categories. One group proposed quite broad suffrage, but to a parliament whose remit was only to advise the executive (i.e., the monarch). These drafts were put forward by farmers or small businessmen and in a sense represented an idealized version of the political system the farmers were familiar with: A powerful king, but one willing to listen to the people. The other, larger group of drafts stemmed from educated men steeped in Enlightenment political philosophy and cognizant of the American and French revolutions, and advocated a much more restricted suffrage, but to a parliament with real power.
An amazing feature of the 1814 Constitution is that it combined the broad suffrage of the first group with the great
parliamentary power of the second. There was to be no upper house, and no one would have more than one vote. The vote was given to all adult males who either tilled taxable land in the country, or owned property above a certain value, or held government office. The really astonishing fact was that this, in principle, put the legislative power in the hands of ordinary farmers. It has been estimated that perhaps as many as 40 percent of the men over 25 years were eligible for voting rights—an unparalleled figure in the early nineteenth century. This outcome was shaped by the fact that Norway had a relatively simple social structure, without any sizable nobility or class of landed gentry.
The new Constitution also realized important Enlightenment ideals. It granted freedom of the press and tolerance of non-Lutheran creeds—famously excepting Jews and Jesuits (until 1851 and 1956, respectively). It established independent courts of law and lifted the burden of military service from the peasants to the whole population—this last at least in principle, reality was rather slow in catching up.
The Storting, as the legislature was called, was given wide authority. The king could only delay, not block, legislation. This notwithstanding, separation of powers was a guiding principle in the Constitution, which meant that the royal executive power was also considerable. Cabinet ministers were appointed by the king and were responsible to him—there was no question of parliamentarianism. The king had the power to personally declare war and make peace.
The extensive powers given to the king were partly the result of a tradition of absolutism dating back to the seventeenth century, but partly also the result of Prince Christian Frederick’s personal influence. He was present at Eidsvoll, and everyone knew that he was now absolutely necessary for the nationalist rebellion he had instigated, which gave him considerable leverage.
As we know, the Constitution was formally accepted by the Assembly on May 17, and Christian Frederick was offered the throne at the same time. He accepted two days later, and the Norwegian rebellion presented itself as an independent kingdom.
The Short-Lived Constitution
The Constitution of May 17 was in effect only for five months and some days. Christian Frederick and the Independence Party had hoped that the European Great Powers (who had, after all, portrayed the war against Napoleon as a war for national self-determination against
foreign oppression) would accept an independent Norway as a fait accompli. This hope was finally crushed in early June. It is likely that Christian Frederick actually concluded that his kingship was a lost cause at this time, and that his government’s actions should be interpreted as efforts to salvage as much of the independence project as possible, given that a union with Sweden would necessarily follow. Certainly this makes it much easier to understand why the military defense against the Swedish attack in late July was so half-hearted as to appear mainly symbolic (or cowardly, as many thought both then and later). A truce was made at Moss in August, but Christian Frederick had insisted that as he had been chosen by the people, only the people could ask him to abdicate and, if it wished, choose another. The Convention of Moss therefore stipulated that an extraordinary Storting should be convened to elect a new king, and to amend the Constitution—but only to the extent made necessary by a personal union with Sweden. Karl Johan, the main Swedish decision-maker, accepted this, although he commanded overwhelming military force. There are several reasons for this. Sweden had earlier promised the Norwegians considerable freedom, including a constitution that allowed for a representative legislature, in an eventual union with Sweden, and Karl Johan did not wish to start his rule as a breaker of promises or a blood-stained conqueror. Nor did he want to provoke the displeasure of the Great Powers, who had come to view the Norwegian independence project with some sympathy. This was particularly the case with Great Britain. Karl Johan clearly wanted to settle the Norwegian matter while the Great Powers had their attention occupied elsewhere.
After some difficult wrangling with Swedish emissaries, the extraordinary Storting agreed on a revised constitution on November 4, and the King of Sweden was on the same day elected as king of Norway too. (We may note that the Storting in effect acted as a new constitutional assembly, as the rules for amending the May Constitution were not followed.) The Union Party at Eidsvoll in the spring had been proved right. But the liberal constitution had been saved with only minimal changes, and Norway remained a separate realm. Contrary to what some have believed, it was never a Swedish ‘colony’ or ‘ruled by Sweden’.
The Long-Lived Constitution
Karl Johan became King of both Norway and Sweden in 1818. He wished to reduce the Storting’s extensive legislative power, secure a royal veto, and also to make the two countries he ruled more uniform. These wishes were strenuously resisted by the Storting, where patriotic civil servants long formed a majority. Many Norwegians feared that any constitutional change whatsoever could be the thin end of the wedge of unwanted royal and/or Swedish domination. To resist the king’s supposedly sinister ‘amalgamation plans,’ the Storting blocked every proposed change to the Constitution, however small, and thus established a long-lasting tradition of constitutional conservatism. During the 1820s especially, relations between the Storting and the king were strained. On more than one occasion, Karl Johan drew military forces to Christiania (present-day Oslo) when the Storting was in session, and indeed contemplated abrogating the 1814 Constitution by force. In this fraught situation, the Constitution firmly established itself as the principal symbol of Norwegian independence and national pride. With its power, it had been possible to introduce such democratizing reforms as abolishing all noble titles and privileges—very much against the king’s wishes—and it gradually became a sign of true patriotic (i.e., anti-royal and anti-Swedish) feeling to commemorate not November 4, the birthdate of the actual constitution so strenuously defended, but May 17, the date of the abandoned interim document. Karl Johan regarded the May 17 celebrations as a tribute to his old rival Christian Frederick, and tried to prohibit them. In 1829, his Viceroy, a Swedish nobleman, very unwisely used troops to suppress celebrations on Christiania. No lives were lost, but the socalled ‘Battle of the Town Square’ caused such an outrage that the authorities thereafter had to abandon all hope of quelling the public celebration of May 17. Speeches to commemorate
The Battle of the Town Square (Torvslaget) was a skirmish between Norwegian demonstrators and forces of the United Kingdoms of Sweden and Norway that took place in Christiania (now Oslo, Norway) on the evening of May 17, 1829. The demonstrators were participating in the annual celebration of the Constitution of Norway, which was outlawed by Karl Johan, King of Sweden and Norway, the previous year. The intervention by police and troops roused civic outrage in Norway, and forced Karl Johan to lift the prohibition.
Hans E. Reimers, Torvslaget, May 17, 1829. Oslo Museum—City History Collection. Permalink: http://www. oslobilder.no/OMU/OB.01284.
the day became common from the 1830s onwards, but the parades of flag-waving children accompanied by marching bands are a later addition, from the 1870s onwards. Both the speech and the parade are still regular features wherever any reasonably large number of Norwegians are gathered on May 17.
This brooch commemorating the Norwegian Constitution’s Centennial was given to the donor by relatives in Oslo, Norway. Vesterheim 1998.005.001—Gift of Odney Swenson Steinkraus.
In the long perspective, the 1814 Constitution has proved extremely durable. After the Constitution of the United States, it is the oldest written constitution still in force. It has also proved curiously adaptable. Although the no-changeat-all attitude was gradually abandoned when the danger of royal or Swedish domination faded towards the end of the nineteenth century, in practice, changes have consisted mainly of adjustments and additions, not deletions or major restructurings. Even the nineteenth-century language has been largely preserved (although a major modernization is now planned). It has, for good or ill, played an incalculable role in fostering a national self-image of Norway as a country devoted to democracy and egalitarian values. As in the early nineteenth century, it renewed its role as primary symbol of national unity and resistance against foreign domination during the Nazi occupation of Norway from 1940 to 1945. And it was written in the space of a few weeks by a hastily convened assembly of men who had only weeks before been mostly loyal—as far as we can tell—subjects of an absolute king. Truly, 1814 was a miraculous year.
About the Author
Nils Ivar Agøy is Professor of modern history at Telemark University College. His research interests include nationalism, political ideologies, Lutheranism, and the British writer group the Inklings.