Not Mentioning the Nation: Banalities and Boundaries at a Danish War Heritage Site

Abstract

Former sites of war, and particularly those which have been elevated to icons of noble defeat, traditionally serve as powerful national signifiers. At the Danish field of Dybbøl, however, a seemingly novel anti‐national or cosmopolitan stance is emerging. This paper investigates contemporary tendencies to silence or not mention the nation at Dybbøl, a site formerly associated with profound pro‐Danish and anti‐German sentiments. So where did the nation go? Basing my analysis on ethnographic field studies of heritage practices and the perspectives of staff and visitors at Dybbøl, I argue that despite its attempted erasure, the nation is still firmly there, inescapably present, lingering in the very materiality of the war site. I draw upon Michael Billig’s notion of banal nationalism to account for the unreflective ways in which the national significance of the site is asserted even in the face of current cosmopolitan changes.

Keywords:

• Battlefield Tourism
• Banal Nationalism
• Cosmopolitanism
• Denmark
• Dybbøl

Notes

[1] See Daugbjerg (2009) for more on what I have termed “cosmopolitian nationalism”, and see Lydon (2009) for a parallel analysis of the shifting heritage discourse at Gallipoli, “tensioned between a commitment both to universal values and to local cultural meanings” (45).

[2] The centre was founded on “democratic” ideals in the sense that its founders deliberately strove to distance themselves from the high‐brow elite culture which they understood the Danish museum establishment to represent. This is in line with Raphael Samuel’s description of the decidedly low‐brow spirit of museums embracing “living history” communication more broadly: “Instead of being temples of the worship of the past, these museums make a fetish of informality, discarding glass cases in favour of free‐standing exhibits which ideally can be handled and touched, encouraging visitors to hobnob with the demonstrators, and replacing galleries with intimate ‘rooms’”(Samuel 1994: 177).

[3] The main language of communication at the centre is Danish, but visitors are offered earphones upon entrance and given the options to select German or English commentaries (direct translations of the Danish storyline) instead.

[4] The song’s powerful imagery is regularly utilized today for pro‐Danish causes. For instance, during the 2005–2006 cartoon controversy sparked by the publication of caricatures depicting the Prophet Mohammad in a Danish newspaper, the leader of the anti‐immigrant Danish People’s Party (Dansk Folkeparti) Pia Kjærsgaard invoked the song’s line that “seeds of weed have flown across the fence” in her reference to contemporary Muslim immigrants in Denmark. She wrote: “Those seeds of weed which have flown across the Danish border – Islamists and liars – and who with their tour of the Middle East have added new, and to Denmark life‐threatening, fuel to the fire in this conflict, we shall deal with ourselves” (my translations; quote from: http://www.danskfolkeparti.dk/Fr%C3%B8afugr%C3%A6s%E2%80%A6.asp, accessed 1 May 2008).

[5] For an English summary of the controversy, see Daugbjerg (2008: 52–61). For detailed accounts (in Danish), see Rasmussen (2000, 2005).

[6] Quoted from field notes. All English quotes in this article from interviews, which I conducted in Danish and German, are my own translations.

[7] “Storytelling” (historiefortælling) and “storyteller” (fortæller) are the centre staff’s own preferred terms for these frequent oral sessions. These terms have been chosen, at least partly, to distinguish themselves from conventional museum guides or attendants and the hegemony of written communication characteristic of conventional museums.

[8] The tendency toward including “eyewitnesses” in heritage interpretation is widespread, not least in Germany, where so‐called Zeitzeugen (literally “time witnesses”) are often employed in the heritage sector (see, for example, Jarausch & Sabrow 2002).

[9] I conducted participant observation and visitor studies at both the battlefield centre and the neighbouring Sønderborg castle museum in the spring and summer of 2006. In total, I recorded nineteen semi‐structured interviews with fifty informants (19–52 minutes), plus eleven so‐called “video walks” in which I tracked visitors’ routes, engagements and conversations on (40‐minute) video recordings (on this last method, see Gjedde & Ingemann 2008). In addition to these recorded files, my field notes contain numerous informal conversations with staff and visitors at and around the sites. All translations from Danish and German are my own.

[10] The Danish term is kulturarv, literally “culture legacy”. It is common in Danish to refer to heritage in the definite form, “the heritage” (kulturarven)—implying (but not mentioning) “the Danish heritage”.

[11] The interview was conducted during the 2006 football World Cup held in Germany.

[12] Interestingly, the sandbox has recently (in 2007) been torn down as part of the general “editing” efforts which have also impacted on the Day of the Storm audiovisual. For more on the sandbox removal and the intricacies of “play” at the centre, see Daugbjerg (forthcoming).