The Sámi are an indigenous people that traditionally lived in the northern areas of Finland, Norway, Sweden, and on the Kola Peninsula in Russia. Today, the majority of the Sámi live as Norwegian citizens in Norway. They are spread out all over the country but the interior of the northernmost county, Finnmark, is usually regarded as a "core area" for Sámi culture and language even if just as many or more live on the coast line.

The Norwegian policy from approximately 1850 to 1940, labelled Norwegianisation, had the aim of assimilating the Sámi in Norwegian society and culture. Even if this policy was changed at a national level after World War II, it still continued at a local level in the northern area in the post war period. The de facto change did not take place before the early 1980s when the Sámi ethno-political movement gained momentum in their struggle for political rights.

This paper aims to analyse the changing symbolic significance of the Sámi language. During the Norwegianisation period, the Sámi language appeared to be dying. It was the counterpart of modern culture and seemingly without a future. After the breakthrough of the ethno-political movement the language has become a symbol of survival and resistance against the Norwegian majority. The Norwegian language has had a different symbolic development. Previously, it was a symbol of modernity and integration in the modern state formation. Today, it is still important in a Sámi society where bi-lingualism and bi-culturalism are important assets for success (Stordahl 1994).

The historical changes of the symbolic value of language might also be traced to other levels than the political. These are levels where ethnic boundaries are played out in an everyday context and have often been established by other means than in the political discourse. This paper thus aims to investigate the interface between different levels where exclusion and inclusion of identity is negotiated (Barth 1994; Baumann 1996).

Language as a symbol of ethnic identity

In an article, Jean E. Jackson (1995) argues that a common language is not necessary for group solidarity and ethnic identity. Her work, from the Vaupés in Colombia, shows that among people there, other features than language are emphasised for identity. Even if the people of Vaupés do not share a common language and speak several dialects that are not mutually understandable, they still look upon themselves as a common group. In this group, the question of language is not a problem. Language becomes a problem in the relationship to the surrounding State where a common language is looked upon as an almost primordial feature of ethnicity and by this becomes crucial in a struggle for political rights. This points to the topic of ethnicity being maintained at different social levels (Barth 1994; Baumann 1996).

In the relationship between the Sámi and the Norwegian State in Northern Norway, language has often been important in creating boundaries. Language is a formal criterion for recognition as a Sámi. Today, the formal request for claiming a Sámi identity and to be enlisted in the Sámi electoral roll is that you feel that you are a Sámi and that at least one of your great grandparents was Sámi speaking. The Sámi Language belongs to the Finno-Ugric languages and is quite different from Norwegian (Hætta 1992: 34. 35). It might be divided into three main languages not mutually understandable and nine main dialects. By this it has also had an important function in creating boundaries in everyday life, both between Sámi and Norwegians and also among Sámi people themselves.

Since the middle of the 18^th century, language has been an important question in the integration of Sámi people into the changing State formations in the area. The Christian mission directed against the Sámi was accelerated in the 1770s, and for a long time it was discussed if Sámi or Norwegian was the proper language for this work. Even if the Sámi gained some recognition for their rights at the end of the period under the rule of the Danish King, the mission work might be looked upon as a prelude to the following period.

From approximately 1850, the pressure against the Sámi language became greater. At that moment, the Norwegian State became more influential in the region and started a conscious policy of turning the Sámi into Norwegians. This policy of Norwegianisation was strongly present in the economic and religious sphere and the public health service but maybe most strongly felt in the educational system. Even if an economic integration into Norwegian society normally presupposed a cultural conversion in all fields, language became a symbol for entering Norwegian society (Bjørklund 1988).

The background for this policy of Norwegianisation has often been viewed as a result of the appearance of Social Darwinism and nationalism. In Norway, nationalism became important from the middle of the 19^th century and was influenced by Norway's background as a Danish "colony" until 1814. From 1814, Norway became a joint kingdom with Sweden. The administrative written language and the language of the upper classes was Danish, and from the middle of the century great efforts were made to create a Norwegian language called New Norwegian, Nynorsk, based on dialects from Southern Norway. The struggle, between "the Norwegian" Nynorsk and the Danish based Book language, continued until the last decades of the 20^th century and might partly explain why language became such a crucial question in the policy of Norwegianisation.

In 1851, the Norwegian government established the "Finnefond" (Lapp Foundation). This fund should provide money to support the teaching of Norwegian among the Sámi. Among others, it was used to pay teachers a bonus dependent on their success in teaching Sámi children the Norwegian language. For most teachers in the northern area this was a welcome support to their normal salary. In 1880, a new teacher instruction manual stated that all textbooks should be in Norwegian and that the Sámi language should only be used when absolutely necessary (Jensen 1991: 31). At the beginning of the 20^th century, this policy was accelerated by the building of boarding schools for Sámi children. By this means, many Sámi children were situated in a Norwegian speaking milieu. This policy continued with little explicit protest until the 1930s. Only the lay Christian Laestadian movement, with its emphasis on Sámi and Finnish language use and on the local way of life, might be interpreted as an implicit resistance against the ethnic assimilation (Bjørklund 1988; Minde 1998).

After World War II, the Norwegian government changed its policy, but had difficulties getting a more tolerant policy accepted in Sámi areas. Even in what is now called the Sámi core areas in the inland there was a firm resistance against what was looked upon as a policy that regarded Sámi people as any different from the Norwegians. Local authorities fought against a curriculum that paid more attention to Sámi language and culture. For many Sámi, the mastering of Norwegian culture was the way into the modern welfare state, even if it meant leaving the local community. Not until 1967 was Sámi introduced as a teaching language in Kautokeino, a municipality that now is, and has always been, predominantly Sámi speaking (Hoem 1989: 14).

For many local communities and individuals the earlier policy of Norwegianisation had an enormous impact. In most coastal areas, the Sámi language was hidden, i. e. not used, when non-Sámi and outsiders were present, over time disappearing completely or about to disappear (Paine 1957; Eidheim 1971; Høgmo 1986). Sámi speaking children who entered a school using a language that they had no knowledge of were regarded as stupid or second rate compared with their Norwegian speaking contemporaries. Often they ended up with a lack of competence in both Sámi and Norwegian, both as written and spoken languages. For many people this process was experienced as an identity crisis, where a Sámi past in most contexts was hidden, transformed and regarded with shame (Høgmo 1986).

The turning point in this process came at the beginning of the 1980s after a long period of ethno-political struggle by an educated Sámi elite. The protests against the plans for a hydroelectric dam in the Alta-Kautokeino River gave the Sámi movement a wide support in Norwegian society. Even if the Sámi movement lost its struggle against the dam, their struggle for ethno-political rights was rewarded with victory. In this struggle, it was important to build up a collective Sámi self understanding and in this process the language became an important symbol of Sáminess (Eidheim 1992; Stordahl 1994). As the earlier Norwegianisation process had caused individual tragedies, so also this symbolic shift came to have an impact on many individuals that could be both painful and/or liberating.

From a symbol of inferiority to a symbol of resistance

The process of Norwegianisation had differed in most local communities. Even if the Norwegianisation policy represented a massive pressure, the loss of Sámi language competence in many cases was determined by individual choices. The opinion of influential persons in the local community or among relatives could uphold the Sámi language or decide the shift to Norwegian. The ordinary view was often quite in conformity with the view raised in Karasjok in the 1960s; namely that the future belonged to Norwegian culture and Sámi culture belonged to the past and was best forgotten.

As a result, for many people born in Finnmark in the 1960s, their knowledge of the Sámi language depends on when people in their surroundings took the decision not to teach the children Sámi or in what spheres Sámi still was used when they grew up. Their grandparents, parents and older siblings might speak the language, but they might not learn it themselves.

Many such cases might be found in the local area of Unjarga/Nesseby, on the coast of Finnmark. In this village, the change from Sámi to the Norwegian language occurred early in the 1960s. People born before the sixties often are bilingual, either with Sámi or Norwegian as their first language. People born in the sixties are Norwegian speaking while younger people born after the Norwegianisation ended, may be Sámi speaking. In this local community, language does not symbolise ethnic identity. Identity is ascribed on the background of kinship and local knowledge. Sámi is in use when Sámi speaking people meet and most locals know how well other locals know Sámi; they might speak Sámi themselves and get an answer in Norwegian by another local. If you are born into what is regarded as a Sámi family in Nesseby you are regarded as Sámi whether you speak the language or not. In this context, a symbol such as language is not applied, that elsewhere is regarded as a symbol of distinct Sáminess.

But this type of local identity does not necessarily fit in with identity politics elsewhere. Lack of the Sámi language might be, and is often, regarded as an outcome of the Norwegianisation process and may then position the person as less Sámi than others. Language, which in Unjarga is used as a practical tool among locals, becomes a symbol that excludes some people in other contexts or in other villages.

This link between language, practical use and identity is demonstrated by a case involving a reindeer herding family. The family can trace their origins both to a Sámi and Finnish heritage. The parents in the family, like many Sámi of their generation, mastered Norwegian in addition to Finnish and the Sámi language. The oldest daughter in the family, born in the early 1960s, told me that she for a long time believed only people of her parents' generation mastered the Sámi language. At home they always spoke Finnish since her mother used this as her first language, and in school they used Norwegian. Her lack of competence in Sámi together with her background from a reindeer herding family became a problem for her when she moved to the interior of Finnmark to attend high school. A non-Sámi speaking reindeer owner was unthinkable in the inland context. In addition, this was in the late 1970s when the struggle for political rights was at its peak, and the lack of this important symbol of language on her behalf put her in many unpleasant situations.

When her elder brother was going to visit her, she therefore tried to prepare her friends that they for the first time should meet a non-Sámi speaking reindeer herder. To her great surprise, her brother started to immediately speak Sámi fluently when he met her friends. As she later found out, he had learn the language among the men herding the flocks. In this context, Sámi was the working language and he had never reflected upon why he never used it at home. For him it was two languages used for separate spheres. To speak Sámi or Norwegian at home, was for him just as unthinkable as speaking any other language than Sámi when herding with the men. For him, this practical arrangement of languages became an asset in his encounter with a context where the Sámi language had become a symbol of Sáminess (Olsen 1997). For his sister this became a loss. She experienced that in many occasions she was regarded as less Sámi than those who had apparently resisted Norwegianisation.

Ethnic symbols and everyday life

The struggle for Sámi political rights and a need for becoming visible as an indigenous minority, made it necessary for Sámi ethno-politicans to emphasise a contrast to Norwegian society (Eidheim 1992). The ethno-political movement that was instituted may be described as highly successful. Today, the Sámi language is an official language in Norway. It is legislatively protected, in official use in the municipalities that have attained the status as Sámi, and is taught in many schools throughout the region of Northern Norway. In Kautokeino, there is also a Sámi college that provide teachers education in the Northern Sámi language. All these features point to a growing institutionalisation of the Sámi and, by this, the development of institutionalised ethnic boundaries. But as most minorities have experienced, it does not mean that official recognition and institutions in a plural society is equality. Usually, the dominant culture is regarded as neutral or not as culture, in most multicultural contexts. On the contrary, the minority's culture is often regarded as a symbolic expression.

This became highly visible at a meeting arranged by the local Sámi association in Alta and a research group at the Finnmark University College. The meeting, arranged as a part of the celebration of the Sámi National Day, the 6^thof February, had as its topic a discussion about the Sámi rights to resources in Finnmark. Several politicians were invited and among them Janos Trosten the leader of the leading Sámi national organisation, Norske Samers Riksforbund (NSR). The debate turned from a debate about land claims to a debate about language. Trosten had prepared his speech in Sámi which is his mother tongue and one of three official languages in Norway. No one had told him that the debate was supposed to be in the Norwegian language and that simultaneous interpretation would not be available. He claimed that his use of Sámi language was practical. Trosten had prepared his speech in Sámi and even if he is a fluent Norwegian speaker, it was a problem to change language. This is a reason which to me seems quite likely when one considers that he was going to meet some of his most fierce opponents in the debate. The NSR leader was speaking Sámi, spontaneously interpreted by one of the arranging committee, throughout the whole meeting and his opponents saw this as a symbolic use of language that was meant to create boundaries in Norwegian society, boundaries that should legitimise distinct political rights for the Sámi. This is a division quite contrary to the unity emphasised by many politicians in coastal areas; some of them present at this particular meeting. This idea of regional unity rejects ethnicity on behalf of the fellow Norwegian citizenship and a common situation living in a northern periphery.

Others interpreted Trostens' use of language as a way of making a distinction between the Sámi in the inland and the . in this particular interpretation . Norwegianized population on the coastal line. For the local Sámi association, it was probably humiliating to arrange a meeting where Sámi could not be spoken and they had to rely on the language used by most people on the coastline. Anyhow, this case points out several interesting features of the use of language in Finnmark. First of all, it is not only by the Sámi that Sámi language is looked upon as an important symbol. This becomes clear when Sámi is spoken in what is regarded as "unproper" spheres of society. It seems like multicultural public events, such as this debate, are regarded as contexts where a practical attitude is expected. This expectation is monolinguism and the use of Norwegian language which is supposed to be neutral (Joks & Andersen 2000). This means that it is the majority culture and the dominant language which is supposed to be the practical and neutral tool in most multi-ethnic and bi-lingual situations. The Sámi language, in this view, is only proper when used when there are only Sámi speakers present.

This view is exemplified by the debate in the newspapers that followed the above mentioned meeting. Many Sámi people claimed that there was a strong expectation of speaking Norwegian as long as only one non-Sámi speaker was present. Such attitudes also have a symbolic content. It points out the Norwegian language as the neutral link that people have in common, and that multilinguism is not a necessity. Other languages are only needed in certain contexts (Joks & Andersen 2000). The Sámi language is only necessary for reindeer herders, because in other contexts it is possible to rely on Norwegian. It is possible to interpret this view in such a way, as it is still the Norwegian language that belongs to the future. This shows that the dominant public- and everyday discourse also inform each other in the case of language as an ethnic symbol.

There has been a persistent image of the Sámi as an ethnic group, though with changes in ideological content (Mathisen 2000). This image is displayed in different fields such as museums, mass media and in tourism (Olsen 1997; 2000). In all these fields of public discourse, the Sámi culture is represented as highly distinct and as having clear boundaries with Norwegian culture. It is the Sámi speaking reindeer herder in the interior of Finnmark who is emphasised in most public discourse as displaying this distinctness.

Such public discourses might be labelled as dominant in representing cultural differences (Baumann 1996). These dominant public discourses are usually fed by the western-colonial political ideology that is rooted in romantic nationalist ideas about culture. These are ideas that pre-suppose certain distinct features and a particular content in the demarcation of culture (Jackson 1995). As Baumann describes the political discourse about culture it is; "& couched in the language of separate communities defined by their cultures that demand collective recognition and rights" (1996: 9). What Baumann (1996) argues is that the boundaries that are codified in the dominant discourse, their persistence, and their impenetrability normally are contested by the everyday, or demolitic, discourses. In the quotidian, other group solidarities are emphasised, diverging boundaries are upheld, different cultural features are put forward, and belonging is characterised by flux and fluidity. As Fredrik Barth states, this radical cultural alternity plays an important part in Western thought and I will add, that so do symbols that articulate these distinct differences. But most ethnic relations in the everyday life of plural societies are about familiar people, not about strangers. These relationships "involve co-residents in encompassing social systems, and lead more often to questions of how `we' are distinct from `them', rather than to a hegemonic and unilateral view of `the other' (Barth 1994: 13). Dominant discourses of other levels often provide the answer to how these differences might be articulated, but often they do not fit in with local discourses of everyday relations.

In the examples put forward previously, such a discrepancy between dominant and everyday discourse is highlighted. The examples describe people who are aware of their Sáminess which has never been contested in their local communities. The first case was of being Sámi by being identified as one of the locals in a Sámi local community; and the second case was of a girl belonging to what was perceived as the only Sámi family in a multicultural area and her problems of demonstrating her Sáminess in the inland. In both cases, a Sámi identity is not contested before people enter realms where a Sámi ethno-political discourse is dominant. In the context of such a dominant discourse, the lack of knowledge of the Sámi language may communicate a certain connotation. The shift to Norwegian for the practical use of language is often interpreted as a lack of resistance to the Norwegianisation process, non-Sámi speakers in this context might be looked upon as less Sámi or as traitors to the indigenous culture. Fluency in the language becomes a sign of continuity perpetuating, a heritage and a heredity that guarantees your ethnic belonging (Bendix 2000).

The shift from a local demolitic discourse to a dominant discourse, turns language into a symbol that alters the way of perceiving many people who lack the knowledge of the Sámi language. For these people, the manifest political result of the ethnical struggle has turned language into a scarce resource, a coveted good. But also among those who have access to this scarce resource a demolitic discourse may critically challenge the symbolical value of the Sámi language. This view can be found among older people in what is often called the Sámi "core areas" in inland Finnmark.¹ For many of them the scarce resource is Norwegian, not Sámi. The story told by an 80 year old man living in an almost totally Sámi speaking community might show that language . and the lack of knowledge of it . could give another interpretation of history than is usually found in the dominant discourse (see also Olsen 1997).

This man grew up with Sámi as the only language spoken. He learned some Norwegian from some Norwegian friends in his childhood, but entered the school without sufficient preconditions for language learning. He tells how he found it very hard to go to a school where they used a language that he did not master. At the same time, he states that the process of Norwegianisation was not so bad as people state today. On the contrary, his wish was that this process had been stronger so that he could better learn the Norwegian language. In his career, as a farmer and as a worker in a contracting company, his lack of competence in Norwegian was an obstacle. His opinion is that; "& what need do I have of Sámi when I make a phone call to Southern Norway to order spare parts for my tractor?" In his view, too little Norwegianisation denied him an opportunity to get better jobs, a higher income and a different career rather than being a farmer and unskilled labourer. For his generation, the welfare state in the 1950s made it possible for most people to have careers, which previously were reserved for the upper classes and definitively not for a poor boy from the interior of Finnmark. But such a career demanded education and skills in Norwegian. His life had given him the experience that a lack of knowledge in Norwegian had been his main problem. There is a saying about this: "Sámi is good enough for the kitchen table and for Sámi fairytales". In other contexts than the local, Sámi for this old man and many of his generation has been of little use for their career (Hætta 1999: 7).

In the encounter with this story, it is quite possible to change views on the argument put forward previously about the ethno-political discourse. For the Norwegian authorities, their aim of Norwegianisation was to use the Norwegian language as a symbol giving access to the prosperity of the modern Nation-State. The lack of mastering this symbol marked people as belonging to another category discredited by a western ideological thought highly influenced by social Darwinism and romantic nationalism. But the Norwegianisation process need not necessarily be interpreted in a negative way. For many people, the influence of modern society and the rapid development of the welfare state after 1945 symbolised a change from poverty to relative wealth. To obtain access and to be a part of this dramatic change in welfare, the Norwegian language was a prerequisite in the same way as the fluency in both languages is a necessity in the Sámi society today.

Ethnicity and contextuality

Barth (1994: 21) argues that in analysing ethnic identity three inter-penetrating levels may be found. Firstly, there is a macro level of state politics and structures together with global discourses, trans-national NGOs and international organisations that play an important part in how ethnicity is shaped. Secondly, there is a median level that: "& is needed to depict the processes that create collectives and mobilise groups for diverse purposes by diverse means" (1994: 21). But there is also a micro level where: "Constraints and parameters on this level will in large part derive from other levels, but come together as a live context for each person's activities and interpretations" (1994: 21). As Baumann (1996) argues, the discourses on these different levels do not necessarily create the same boundaries. Group solidarity and the maintaining of boundaries often appear different at the micro level where everyday life is lived. A different knowledge is in use and might blur the boundaries on other levels. At the interface of these levels, new understandings might be negotiated or/and people's ethnicity might be transformed according to power relations in the particular context. This paper is an attempt to show such changes and point out such discrepancies between different levels. One consequence for many persons in Finnmark is that the symbolic meaning of language at a macro and median level creates doubts about their ethnic identity. The lack of knowledge of the Sámi language might be interpreted in practical terms in local everyday life, but gets a new symbolic value in contexts where other discourses become dominant. These dominant discourses are often created by ideas of radical cultural alternity that is prominent in Western thought and also by essential ideas about culture.

At the same time, this use of language is illuminated by the fact that the Norwegian language is given a symbolic value as neutral and the common lingua franca. This makes Norwegian a necessity in most public and multicultural spheres. This is a symbolic message conveyed in both a public- and an everyday discourse and shows important structural power relations between majority and minority. The Sámi language becomes a necessity only in certain spheres as the reindeer-herding context and at the "kitchen table". Obviously, this will create such a symbolic message, and in everyday practice, an opinion in favour of the Norwegian language. Anyhow, not being a Sámi speaker still places you out of many contexts in many Sámi communities and this is a loss for many Sámi that only speak Norwegian.

***

¹ Even in these "core areas" one may find people born in the 1960s and early 1970s who never learned to speak Sámi. This is often a result of choices in certain families. It is quite ironic that many of the non-Sámi speakers belong to the first generation who where taught Sámi as a compulsory language in school, but who opted not to speak it at home.

References