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culturalinfoONGREENLAND.docxHistory
Although Danish sovereignty was established in the 1600s, in 1924 Norway made an ambitious claim for it based on the Icelandic colonists of the second century. The claim was lost and in 1953 the international court ratified Denmark's sovereignty over Greenland. This state of affairs lasted for another 20 years before Greenland agitated for, and received, more autonomy. In 1979 the Danish parliament granted Greenland home rule, and in 1998 the right to full, uncontested independence, if they want it.
Greenlandic history is an amalgam of legendary sagas, anecdotal evidence, scientific fact and supposition. Best guesses are that, 5000 years ago, there were two distinct tribes that either melted into each other or sequentially died out, although not much is known about either of them. They were followed by the Saqqaq tribe, who kindly left behind a plethora of artifacts that were subsequently dug up and fussed over by the archaeologists. Scientific data and hypotheses have failed to explain why they also died out.
Time passed...and then a bit more time passed...and then in the 10th century Greenlandic history lumbered to its feet again when the Thule culture arrived on the scene and rapidly spread eastward. This is when, culturally and historically speaking, things really got going. The Thule were relatively sophisticated, responsible for introducing those two Greenland icons, the qajaq (kayak) and the dogsled, and it was probably these two inventions that saved them from going the same way as the hapless tribes before them. The Thule are direct ancestors of the modern-day Greenlandic Inuit.
Greenland did not have sustained contact with Europeans until Eric the Red, the legendary Viking, used it as a home-away-from-home during his years of exile. It was Eric the Red who called the country Greenland but the naming proved to be more lyrical than factual; most of the time Greenland was anything but. This did not deter the boatload of Icelanders who promptly set about colonizing the land and for a couple of centuries the colonists herded, farmed and hunted while the country slipped back into its usual comatose state. Norway got around to annexing the country in 1261, but it was a futile attempt at control; 130 years later a big chill set in and by the time the country thawed out and the outside world made contact again, the colonists had gone, either fully acculturated into, or killed by, the Thule.
Greenland slipped out of mind for another three hundred years until a combination of interest in a passage between Europe and the Far East, the lure of money to be made in whaling and missionary zeal put it back on the map. The conversion rate for the missionaries was fairly high: to the Inuit any religion that punished wrongdoers with heat had a lot going for it.
Norway had lost its claim on Greenland in 1605, when Denmark sent an expedition to claim the country in the king's name. Shortly after this it became the focal point for mad dogs, Englishman and Americans, as every explorer worth his salt raced toward the farthest point north. The history books record American overachiever Robert Peary as the first person to reach the North Pole, although his claim remains largely unsubstantiated, and there is enough doubt about the veracity of the trip to suggest that Frederick Cook may have beaten him to it. The Inuit reserve their admiration for a Greenland-born expeditionist by the name of Knud Ramussen. Not only was he a skilled explorer possessed of enormous stamina and survival skills, he was genuinely attached to the Inuit and their culture.
Although Danish sovereignty was established in the 1600s, in 1924 Norway made an ambitious claim for Greenland based on the Icelandic colonists of the second century. The claim was lost and in 1953 the international court ratified Denmark's sovereignty over Greenland. This state of affairs lasted for another 20 years before Greenland agitated for, and received, more autonomy.
While the territory's status was unraveling as fast as an avalanche tobogganing down a mountainside, Greenland unwittingly became a pawn in the Cold War. US bases established in WWII became permanent within the framework of Denmark's membership of NATO, and when the Danes joined the EU, so too did the Greenlanders, even though they'd voted against doing so.
In 1979 the Danish parliament granted Greenland home rule, and in 1985 they voted to pull out of the EU, although this was a largely symbolic act which made little practical difference. Internationally, most of Greenland's energies have been focused on preserving its whaling industry.
In the meantime, there are plans afoot to tap the island's most obvious resource by developing an ice industry - Greenland is said to hold about a fifth of the world's drinkable water - and to curb smoking rates, as Greenlanders hold the world record for lung cancer incidence.
More immediately, US plans to employ the base at Thule as part of the missile defense system, however, this has raised objection. Indeed, the coalition government that formed in December 2002 is vigorously pro-independence, although fractious relations between the coalition partners may impede progress in that direction.
Although modern life has well and truly caught up with the Inuit in the form of warm-climate foods, computers, luxury cars and outboard motors, as little as 40 years ago Greenlanders were still practicing a traditional way of life that revolved around the hunt. They believed that humans were shades - more of the dead than of the living - and it was only the techniques and rituals of the hunt that kept them within the realm of the human. Any error in judgment would mean falling back into the earlier animal world. Harmony with the land, respect for the dead and due homage to the animals that sacrificed themselves for the good of humanity were the hallmarks of a good hunter and kept the world from falling off its axis. Inuit folklore also told of a time when men could speak to animals; the words were shamanistic in character and delivery and held a tengeq or intrinsic power. If the words were uttered heedlessly they immediately lost their power. This belief may account for the Inuit's almost legendary reluctance to indulge in idle chitchat. Their brevity makes most non-Inuits look bold and brash.
Tupilak, once carved out of bone, skin and chunks of peat, are small grotesque-looking figures that wouldn't look out of place in an Evil Dead film. They originally worked as catalysts for misfortune and death, although the carver had to be careful that the victim's juju was weaker than his own to avoid a fatal backlash. These days tupilak are sold as souvenirs and are carved from caribou antler, soapstone, driftwood, narwhal tusk, walrus ivory and bone, and the only thing they conjure up is the tourist dollar.
It has been said that Greenlandic language looks like the efforts of a two year old let loose on a typewriter; long strings of mega-syllabic words held together by repeating vowels and quite a few more 'q's than a Westerner is used to. If it looks formidable to learn that's because it is. Conversational matters aren't helped by the Greenlandic habit of spontaneously abbreviating the monster words to a more respectable length, but in ways that are far too enigmatic for the average foreigner with a phrasebook.
Traditional Greenlandic food is of the bloody and freshly killed kind: walrus, seal and whale. The tastiest parts of the kill (the eyes, kidney and heart) were traditionally set aside for the head hunter and the other sections distributed according to a very strict hierarchy. Every part of the animal was used. One traditional delicacy described by Jean Malaurie in The Last Kings of Thule combined partridge droppings and seal fat; another consisted of narwhal fat and water, mixed with walrus brain and digested grass from the first stomach of a reindeer. Despite the culinary trend toward mix'n'match global cuisine, you'd have to think twice before trying to rehabilitate traditional Greenland fare. It's difficult to imagine either of these dishes, or any variation of them, ever appearing in Vogue Cuisine. These days’ supermarket aisles have largely taken over the hunt. Even tropical fruits are put on the shopping list, but prepackaged whale steaks and seal meat are still available in the frozen goods section.
Greenland is so far north that its residents are the first to see Old Nick fly across the rooftops each year. It's shaped like a witch's shoe laying on its side, with the back of the heel flush against the arctic polar cap, the tongue sloping down the Denmark Strait and the turned-up toes pointing into the Atlantic Ocean. Over three quarters of the country is unremittingly ice: that adds up to the size of Texas. The sheer weight of all this ice has caused the middle of the country to sag, forming a concave basin which reaches a depth of 360m (1180ft) below sea level. Above the ground towering crystal columns of ice dot the landscape, glaciers calve monstrous icebergs into the sea, and fjords knit the shoreline. If the cosmic defrost button ever got pushed, the ice slush would be enough to turn coastal cities around the world into large urban swimming pools.
The peculiar geography of Greenland and its proximity to the North Pole results in a number of spectacular natural phenomena, but none more awesome than the aurora borealis and Fata Morgana effect. The aurora borealis' wafting curtains of colored lights, most often a faint green or light rose color, are caused by charged particles from the sun colliding with the earth's atmosphere. Reflections of water, ice and snow, combined with temperature inversions, causes the illusion of solid, well defined features where there are none. Hence those early apocryphal tales of ships sailing on the ice, large cities in the middle of nowhere and green forests appearing on the horizon.
Most of the vegetation in Greenland is stunted but in late summer the lowland areas of the south are carpeted with wild flowers - chamomile, dandelion, harebell, and Arctic poppies - and wild berries. The harsh climate puts off all but the hardiest of animals but what the country lacks in numbers it makes up for in exotica. Above the ground you can see caribou, musk oxen, polar bears, lemmings, and (much-prized for their pelts) the Arctic white fox and blue-grey fox. In the water any number of whale species is likely to give you the fluke, from the Disney-cute orca, or killer whale, to the beautiful white beluga whale. The icy seas are also home to the narwhal with its unicorn tusk, and of course a whole passel of seals and walrus.
Greenland and Greenpeace are a surprisingly volatile mix. Green peace’s anti-sealing and anti-whaling stance effectively destroyed Greenland's economic base, particularly in north Greenland where subsistence hunting represents 80% of the income. Since then, Greenpeace have recognized that Greenland is a different kettle of fish and (except in the case of endangered species) subsistence hunting is now accepted, but many Greenlanders still feel bitter about the organization's intrusion into their traditional way of life.
Summer is a relative term in Greenland but basically it's that time between May and July when the thermometer busts a gut to climb over 20°C (68°F). This is minus the wind factor so it still means a warm jacket or pullover. This is midnight sun time when every day is, well, a day and a night; when citizens take long strolls and spontaneous boat trips at odd moments of the night, and normal calendar time takes a hike. Of course the obverse side of the coin is that when winter comes, it comes with a vengeance. When brass monkey-weather sets in, temperatures in the far north can reach as low -40°C (-40°F) and routinely sink to -20°C (-9°F)in the south. While places in the south might be gratified with a few hours of weak pale sunlight during the winter, the far north experiences true polar nights with weeks of no sun at all.
