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Although the folk high school movement originated among the
peasant farmers, it is in large part traceable to the teachings
of a single remarkable man whose life spanned much of the period
during which these critical events occurred. Nikolaj Frederik
Severin Grundtvig was a man of many talents - poet, educator,
historian, theologian, translator, mythologist and mythmaker,
composer of popular hymns, prophet, protestor, and social critic.
Even this extensive list does not do full justice to his concerns
and commitments, his passions and his accomplishments. The man
was in truth a living whirlwind. One can only say of him (with
little fear of contradiction) that both his own time and the
future of Denmark would not have been the same had he not been
there to bequeath to them the unique stamp of his thoughts,
actions, and feelings.
In those sections of Grundtvig's voluminous writings that
deal with education, he bitterly protests the neglect of Danish
language and culture found in the classical Latin schools of his
time. Through their undue emphasis on Latin, Greek, and medieval
classicism, these schools, he charges, "have been at work
for hundreds of years widening the gulf between life and
learning." It was his deeply held conviction that "life
and learning are to go together in such a way that life is to be
first and learning is to follow." Viewed from the present,
Grundtvig emerges as a major prophetic figure whose views laid
the foundation for a profound cultural synthesis that spoke
eloquently to the question of nationalism and national identity.
It is one that has played a vital role in Danish history from
Grundtvig's time down to our own and has significantly
influenced the unique path of Danish modernization.
Education was one of Grundtvig's major concerns. He wrote
advocating the creation of a unique school that would serve the
Danish people at all levels in society, proposing originally to
call it the "folkelig højskole" (meaning
loosely a school that would be "of and for the
people"). His special passion was that these schools would
give dignity to the life of the farmer. They would awaken in
rural men and women not only a pride in the national culture but
a love of learning that would continue long after a student had
finished the formal course of study. Grundtvig's positive
feelings for the working farmer were equaled only by his contempt
for those he referred to scathingly as "the learned."
One of his most well known poems, "Enlightenment,"
begins with these lines, which I have freely translated:
Is the light of the spirit only something for the
learned to spell with? No! Heaven has bequeathed
more good things, and the light is the gift of heaven.
The sun rises with the farmer, and not with those
who possess learning. It illuminates, from top til toe,
the one who is really on the go.
Grundtvig's original vision was a school not only for the
children of farmers but for the Danish people at large in all
their different walks of life. In 1830 the idea of the folkelig
højskole is set forth for the first time in his
writings (the first actual school was established fourteen years
later). At the opening of a school bearing his own name in 1856,
he made these remarks to those present, including the eight
enrolled pupils:
I saw life, real human life, as it is lived in this world,
and saw at once that to be enlightened, to live a useful and
enjoyable human life, most people did not need books at all,
but only a genuinely kind heart, sound common sense, a kind
good ear, a kind good mouth, and then liveliness to talk with
really enlightened people, who would be able to arouse their
interest and show them how human life appears when the light
shines upon it.
Grundtvig lived to be a very old man. He survived long enough
to see the schools whose existence he had envisioned begin to
grow and take root. It was an idea that reached fulfillment in
his own lifetime. One reason for this was that many of the
"really enlightened people" of Grundtvig's day and
age came to devote their lives to the burgeoning folk high school
movement, attempting to show young farmers "how human life
appears when the sun shines upon it." Only a decade after
the founding of the first such school in 1844, others began
springing up all across the countryside. In the space of a single
two-year period (1865 - 67), twenty-five new high schools were
formed. By 1870 there were already more than fifty schools; by
1890, seventy-five.
The folk high schools are of particular importance in
understanding the role played by farmers and the farming
community in the Danish path to modernization. Yet their
importance goes beyond this, and it is no exaggeration to say
that these schools and the movement to which they belong
influenced the path modernization as a whole took in Denmark.
This entire fabric of historical events has had its unusual, even
remarkable features. Perhaps the most extraordinary of all
(viewed from the outside as a non-Dane) is the almost complete
absence of armed conflict, systematic political repression, and
violent social revolution. Even during an extended period of
change, when the conditions of social, political, and economic
life were being fundamentally altered, there were few acts of
serious mass violence. Where violence occurred, it was in most
cases little more than stone throwing and shouting, followed by a
shot or two fired into the air, after which all sides gallantly
withdrew from battle. The total body count approaches zero.
Violence as it is commonly known in the less fortunate countries
(accompanied by such doubtful features as inquisitorial
tribunals, mob persecutions, police states, death camps, and
paramilitary assassination squads) is to my knowledge conspicuous
by its absence during this whole period of Danish history.
How did the Danes do it? It can't all be attributed to
the good taste of their beer, their friendly smiles, or their
open-faced sandwiches. We are faced with an unresolved mystery, a
jigsaw puzzle that has not yet been put together. Why did the
same or parallel culture change processes that have resulted in
violent repression, both in the past (for example, the French and
Russian Revolutions) and in the present, occur without widespread
social violence in Denmark? What is it about Denmark and the
Danes that is responsible for this feature of their response to
modernization and cultural change? Is there something of value
here that has been missed? Is there anything that deserves closer
examination? In a world marked by social violence these facts
suggest a historical enigma that has gone for the most part both
unnoticed and unexplored.
Let us remember that the contemporary literature of
development and modernization is replete with examples of
miscalculation and sheer human tragedy. In spite of the Western
tendency to regard change as progress, culture change is
frequently a harsh, almost inhuman process. In his classic
critique of the economics of modernization (1973), the British
economist E. F. Schumacher wrote eloquently of the need to
develop what he called "technology with a human face."
Schumacher's haunting image suggests several questions for
this study of Denmark. Can we usefully abstract from the special
features of the Danish case a potential alternative model of
modernization "with a human face"? Are there any
lessons from the Danish experience that should be part of the
common knowledge of politicians, administrators, educators, and
development theorists? Could any of these lessons, if they in
fact exist, be usefully applied outside the Danish context?
The focus offered here is based on a perspective developed in
the course of extended ethnographic fieldwork. While in Denmark
carrying out this research, I had an insight that gave rise to
the perspective set forth here. The folk high school is not
merely an interesting school with a particular kind of
curriculum. It is much more than that. An observation made by
Thomas Rordam, a former folk high school principal, hints at
these connections. Rordam wrote that "the Danish national
character is reflected in the Folk High Schools, because the core
of the Danish nation - earlier the country people but in this
century also the townsfolk - took part in their
formation." The folk high schools, then, express
a unique facet of both the social history and the national
character of the Danish people.
The need to make these wider connections is acute in this case
because so little is known in the world at large about either the
history of Denmark or the Danish folk high schools. It is
precisely because so little is known about Denmark - its
heroes, history, and traditions - that fundamental questions
must be asked. Who are the Danes? Which geopolitical realities
have constrained their national and cultural development? What
critical turning points can one identify in their history? How
has their unique national character been shaped and molded over
time? It is only when questions such as these have been addressed
that the particular institution of the folk high school can be
seen in the proper context and its own special lessons
understood. [1]
[1] Steven M. Borish, The Land of the
Living: The Danish Folk High Schools and Denmark's Non-Violent
Path to Modernization (Nevada City, Calif.: Blue Dolphin,
1991), pp. 15-20.
Posted on 2002-01-11
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