Vigilante or Viking? Contesting the mediated constructions of Soldiers of Odin Norge

Abstract

In 2015, Europe experienced the worst refugee crisis since the Second World War. Along with terrorist attacks in Europe over the last decade, the refugee crisis has fueled a rise in the popularity of both far-right political parties and extremist groups—such as Finland’s Soldiers of Odin (S.O.O.). The group debuted in late 2015, but quickly spread throughout Scandinavia. The popularity of S.O.O. coincided with a resurgent interest in Viking culture, and new country groups have been reported worldwide. This article explores the contested identity of the Norwegian chapter, Soldiers of Odin Norge (S.O.O.N.), in national news (Norge) and networked spaces (social media). The mediated discourse was analyzed using ethnographic content analysis, with an appreciation for the intertextuality of the ambiguous political rhetoric. We found social media to be an important site for contesting the dominant narrative of ‘vigilante’ identified in the news articles. Drawing from cultural criminology, we further explored the contrast between mediated images, where Viking culture became the symbolic identifier for S.O.O.N., and the collective construction of meaning in the discourse. Finally, we argue that because the group’s identity was forged from, and exists because of, media-related communications, S.O.O.N. could be characterized as a ‘media-based collectivity’ (Couldry and Hepp, 2017).

Keywords

Cultural criminology ethnographic content analysis media-based collectivity Viking culture

Introduction

On New Year’s Eve 2015, approximately 80 women reported being the victims of crimes—including sexual assault and robbery—during public celebrations in Cologne, Germany. The perpetrators were described as groups of drunk men of “North African or Arab appearance” in police and news accounts, with further investigations estimating the number of suspects to be close to a thousand (Coleman, 2016). One police chief was quoted as saying that most of the men were asylum seekers, although the allegation was never confirmed at the time by official sources. Accounts of the attacks in Cologne, and to a lesser degree in several other German cities, were widely reported throughout Europe. Norway’s VG News featured two stories about the incidents in January, as well as stories on the rising fear of refugees in Europe. At the end of 2016, the Federal Criminal Police Office in Germany released details from the investigation into the Cologne event: over 800 public sexual assaults and over 100 victim incidents were recorded, with the perpetrators’ nationality being primarily Algerian, Moroccan, and Iraqi (Wiermer and Voogt, 2016). Although some cases in other German cities were substantiated, a recent police report revealed that the mass sexual assaults alleged to have taken place in the city of Frankfurt had been fabricated.¹

The crimes against these women came on the heels of a record year for refugees seeking asylum in Germany, host to the second largest percentage of international migrants in 2015 after the USA (UNDP, 2015). Known for their generous policies regarding asylum seekers, Scandinavia saw a huge influx as well and this had profound effects on the smaller European countries struggling to provide accommodation. For example, in Finland the government was forced to open over 100 migrant centers to deal with 10 times the number of asylum seekers as the previous year (Simons, 2016). Norway had the highest percentage point increase in the number of refugees seeking asylum at 3.6%, and the government responded by tightening restrictions on asylum policy (Crouch, 2016; Tanner, 2016).

Along with terrorist events in Europe during the last decade, the refugee crisis influenced the rise in popularity of far-right political parties, as well as extremist groups—which develop as “identity-based mobilizations in reaction to a clearly defined adversary” (Castells, 1997: 106). The “dangerous and human predicament of ontological insecurity” produced by conditions of late modernity may manifest in cultural dehumanization, as some come to believe “their social status is threatened and their identity disembedded” (Ferrell et al., 2015: 4). People respond to these insecurities in a variety of ways, with some citizens withdrawing from society while others choose to mobilize groups and “practice nonviolent forms of confrontation” (White, 2001: 950).

One such mobilization is the Scandinavian-based collective Soldiers of Odin (S.O.O.), which debuted in Kemi, Finland in late 2015. The group is characterized as neo-Nazi based on the previous ties of members to other far-right groups, racist statements made to journalists, and night patrols with dogs of migrant centers in Kemi. Despite the label, S.O.O. has gained notoriety through international news reports and social media, with the group spreading first throughout Scandinavia then later to other countries outside of the region. The popularity of S.O.O. internationally coincided with a resurgent interest in Viking culture, which became a symbolic identifier for the group.

In this article, we explore the identity formation of Soldiers of Odin Norge (S.O.O.N.)—the Norwegian chapter of the collective. Our interest in S.O.O.N. specifically was sparked by the mediated nature of the collective, and their reliance on networked spaces to forge and contest the identities constructed through mediated discourse. Social media, more specifically the public support page for S.O.O.N. on Facebook, became the site for these contestations as the collective confronted and opposed constructions of group members as vigilantes and neo-Nazis through a rescript of the dominant narrative.

Theoretically, we rely on intertextuality as a lens through which to analyze the ambiguous political rhetoric, exploring the contrast between narratives constructed in the news reports and contestations of the group’s purpose as outlined in discourse and multiple texts on the support page. As a “media-based collectivity,” we argue that S.O.O.N.’s group identity is “moulded by media-related communications” via social media (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 170). In order to understand the mediated discourse surrounding groups such as S.O.O.N. in the press, we first consider the rise of far-right political parties and extremism in Europe as they have paved the way for the emergence of groups such as S.O.O.N.

The rise of the far right in Europe and Norway

Far-right parties are the most electorally relevant new party family in Europe. They support electoral democracy, but take issue with pluralism and minority protections (Mudde, 2007, 2015). Mudde (2007) identified corruption and political failure, crime and terrorism, and immigration and multiculturalism as threatening social change and contributing to far-right party support. Globalization in the form of mass immigration, post-industrialization, and European integration currently activates the nativist, authoritarian, and populist ideologies of some citizens (Mudde, 2015). Examples include far-right parties in Hungary, France, Denmark, Germany, Greece, Austria, Finland, and Sweden.

Despite its firm status as a liberal and social democracy, Norway has not been exempt from the rise of the right. The Fremskrittspartiet (FrP; Progress Party), whose origins are tied to European integration efforts, currently is included in the center-right coalition that leads government. The party came to own the anti-immigration position within the Norwegian party system by framing immigrants as being preferred over native Norwegians for employment, accusing immigrants of stealing limited welfare provisions, and proposing the relocation of asylum centers so that refugees are fully assimilated before entry into Norway (Hagelund, 2010; PARLINE, 2017).

The increase in the number of “populist-authoritarian right” parties in Europe has been influenced by their ability to exploit anti-immigration fears and rebrand extreme positions (Minkenberg, 2013: 12). Not all far-right groups, however, organize via political participation in electoral campaigns. Instead, these groups may “mobilize support through larger social movements,” or organize into “socio-cultural milieus, which operate relatively independently from parties and social movements,” and it is this last group that “may exhibit higher propensities toward violence” (Minkenberg, 2013: 13).

These groups focus on culture instead of politics “because contemporary nationalism is more reactive than proactive,” and is “more oriented toward the defense of an already institutionalized culture than the construction or defense of a state” (Castells, 1997: 31). Rather than exclude people on the basis of a “natural hierarchy,” ethnocentric arguments focus on “the incompatibility of cultures and ethnicities” (Minkenberg, 2013: 12). They embrace a “nativist economic policy—more welfare, but only for us” (Polakow-Suransky, 2016). A common thread in the anti-immigrant discourse in Europe highlights how refugees—specifically, Muslims—“do not respect the European way of life” (Nardelli, 2016). This discourse, that Muslims are culturally different from ‘ethnic Norwegians,’ was perpetuated by Progress Party politicians after 9/11. They support liberal democracy, just not for Muslims because their views clash with Western culture and values—especially views toward women (Martensson, 2014).

The impact of such rhetoric on the populace is increased fear of immigrants, producing conditions allowing extremist groups to emerge. However, even though Progress Party voters are more likely to rank immigration as the most pressing concern facing the nation, the number of active, individual “extremists” in Norway is relatively low (Hagelund, 2010). The number of extremist groups in Norway is thought to have peaked in the 1990s, with groups such as Viking and Boot Boys (see Fangen and Carlsson, 2013 for a more detailed discussion on the history of extremism in Norway). In response to anti-immigrant violence against people and property by members of these groups, the Norwegian government invested resources in preventing hate groups from organizing. Citizens and communities responded as well, with the beginning of “night-walking” in the 1990s. These night patrols of parents on the weekends were implemented in order to discourage excessive drinking and violence—acting as “a kind of soft social control” (Fangen and Carlsson, 2013: 341). Night-walking is now a strategy used by S.O.O.N.

Extremist groups, such as the Norwegian Defense League (counterpart to the anti-Islam and White nationalist English Defense League), still exist in Norway albeit in smaller numbers. Some neo-Nazi groups, like Vigrid, are Holocaust deniers who praise Adolf Hitler and the “old Nordic gods like Odin” (Fangen and Carlsson, 2013: 329). While extremist groups remain small in number, a rise in activity among such groups has been noted after the 2011 terrorist attack by ‘ethnic Norwegian’ Anders Behring Breivik.² The noted increase in activity includes the emergence of new groups, such as S.O.O.N. Although the Norwegian chapter is derivative of its Finnish counterpart, the group has actively resisted the dominant narrative that they are neo-Nazis. The current study explores this resistance through an examination of the competing narratives surrounding S.O.O.N.’s existence and goals as a collective. In the next section, we introduce the frameworks used to guide the analysis.

Theoretical frameworks

The mediated discourse was analyzed using ethnographic content analysis, with an appreciation for the intertextuality of the ambiguous political rhetoric identified in news and social media. When focused on intertextuality, scholars suggest that a dynamic cultural exchange occurs as listeners to stories reference other cultural phenomena to understand the text at hand. Traditionally conceptualized as belonging to the written text or verbal traditions, narratives now include a variety of artifacts such as videos, still images, tweets, and other media forms (Jones, 2015). Kristeva (1986: 37) noted that “any text is constructed as a mosaic of quotations; any text is the absorption and transformation of another”. Every text is read in relationship to others with the listener’s textual or artifact knowledge serving as a filter through which they draw meaning (Fiske, 1987). This is the intertext. The dominant cultural narrative is shaped by elites through the process of nation-building and thus is strongly tied to cultural texts, traditions, symbols, and artifacts.

However, narratives are also democratic and can include non-dominant and non-elite voices and perspectives (Higgins and Brush, 2006; Polletta, 2006), and networked spaces are ideal for “polyvocal public discourse” (Barlas Bozkus, 2016). Groups use shared stories and methods to build unity, group identity, and culture (Johnstone, 1990; Polanyi, 1985). For groups like S.O.O.N., storytelling provides an opportunity to promote their message through intertextual references to traditional Norwegian cultural phenomena and texts—for example, Viking culture. For those outside the dominant group, Waters (2014: 27) argues that “narratives are constructed as lifelines to each other and as insinuation into larger stories of national identity and personal triumph”. Minority groups contest the dominant narrative by bending and blending their own narrative with intertextual references.

The group can manipulate their message to be both familiar and critical. As multiculturalism and European integration have become the norm within Europe, groups like S.O.O.N. can challenge that norm by leveraging the cultural texts of the dominant national identity to tell a specific story to particular audiences. Invoking traditional Norwegian texts and artifacts can send a clear message of nativism to certain audiences, while preserving a sort of plausible deniability with other audiences. Digital and social media have increased groups’ ability to send this messaging by serving as “ambiguous participation frameworks” where storytellers can “tell different kinds of stories to different kinds of listeners at the same time” (Jones, 2015: 317). Messaging through social media sites, however, also is imperfect in that it can lead to “context collapse” because the storyteller cannot control the context through which meaning is drawn (Jones, 2015: 325). S.O.O.N.’s messaging across social media to build group identity is at constant risk of being “misinterpreted” by audiences. Yet it does provide a democratic arena in which to challenge the dominant narratives created by an agenda-setting, gatekeeping, corporatized mass media, while at the same time providing new channels for communication and storytelling (Aruguete, 2017).

In addition to literature on intertextuality, we consider recent scholarship on narrative criminology useful in analyzing how S.O.O.N. constructs and contests their identity. Building from narrative theory, narrative criminology emphasizes how the stories we tell ourselves about who we are influence and guide our behavior and beliefs (Presser, 2016). Following Frank (2010) and Bakhtin (1986), narrative criminologists appreciate that stories are not uniform, but rather ambiguous and “fragmented” (Sandberg, 2013). Further, the polyvocality of identity construction in narrative is “ongoing,” and as such requires “continuous dialogical interpretation” (Sandberg et al., 2015: 1171). Although narrative criminology focuses on the role of storytelling in crime, we incorporate their ideas about identity development through narrative construction (Sandberg and Ugelvik, 2016).

The second theoretical framework used to guide the analysis focuses on the role of technological interdependence in communication, and the influence of such “deep mediatization” on how we interpret our social world (Couldry and Hepp, 2017). Drawing upon media and communications theory, Couldry and Hepp (2017: 2) consider the ways in which “‘media’ now are much more than specific channels of centralized content: they comprise platforms which, for many humans, literally are the spaces where, through communication, they enact the social”.

Extending the project of Berger and Luckmann (1966), these scholars argue that the social construction of reality is now a highly mediated one. Media provide “an essential means for bringing complex collectivities into being,” in which collectivity is defined as “any figuration of individuals that share a certain meaningful belonging that provides a basis for action- and orientation- in- common” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 168). One consequence, however, of this deeply embedded technological interdependence is that the dynamics of the collectivity will be altered because of its relationship to media.

The researchers distinguish between ‘mediatized collectivities,’ which are “constructed through and moulded by media-related communications,” and ‘media-based collectivities’ which in contrast are “constitutive” because they “cannot exist without media” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 170). An example of the latter would be online fan communities that act primarily to bring like-minded people together in networked spaces, and facilitate communication between them. For both types of collectivities, media transform our social world as collectivities develop around media content (as with online fan communities), while the “shared processes of mediated communication” provide a “means for constructing collectivities” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 175–176). The processes of communication also provide for shared meaning production via text and image (Castells, 2009; Ferrell et al., 2015).

In this study, we examine social media as the space where ‘figurations,’ or ‘media-based collectivities,’ are developed and molded, and meanings contested (Couldry and Hepp, 2017; Elias, 1991 [1939]). We also invoke cultural criminology when considering the symbolic representation of meaning constructed by the collectivity in the networked space (Ferrell et al., 2015). In addition, we argue that characterizing S.O.O.N. as a ‘media-based collectivity’ provides a useful framework through which to understand how the emergence of this organization influenced the spread of S.O.O. worldwide.

Methods

In this study, ethnographic content analysis (ECA) was employed to analyze two sites of cultural production: national news (Norge) and networked spaces (social media). ECA is an interactive, reflexive, and narrative approach to the thematic analysis of documents—or “any symbolic representation that can be recorded or retrieved for analysis” (Altheide and Schneider, 2013: 5). ECA is the preferred method for identifying how methods of communication, and their meaning, “reflect other aspects of culture” (Altheide and Schneider, 2013: 27), and has been used to identify themes in a variety of texts including news (Vickovic et al., 2013), websites (Fishwick and Mak, 2015), and social media policies (Rodesiler, 2017). Furthermore, ECA has been used to analyze images and narratives in television (Kuhn-Wilken et al., 2012) and video games (Steinmetz, 2017), as well as posts on social media, including Twitter (Lemke and Chala, 2016) and Facebook (Gajaria et al., 2011). We diverge from these studies in that rather than focus on one text, we use the results of the news article analysis to guide our engagement with social media, allowing for representation of the intertext.

The population of newspapers for sampling was limited to domestic sources, since the researchers were primarily concerned with mediated discourse on Soldiers of Odin Norge among Norwegians. VG (Verdens Gang) was chosen because it is the most-read online newspaper in Norway³ and all issues were available to the researchers without a subscription. Furthermore, VG reprints stories from other national and city newspapers in Norway, including Aftenposten, Dagsavisen, and Tønsberg Blad. Thus, sampling articles solely from VG ensures that a multitude of perspectives on S.O.O.N. are represented. We limited the analysis to the time period of January 2016—when the first article on S.O.O. in Finland was published—to April 2016. Of the 21 articles analyzed, most were published in February after S.O.O.N.’s first patrol and debut. Since April 2016, articles in VG concerning S.O.O.N. have been sporadic, only reporting on updates in leadership or legal cases.

We first analyzed the news articles with a general focus on the mediated constructions of S.O.O.N., using an inductive process to identify common themes rather than begin with predetermined categories or codes. The iterative process of ECA involved engaging in constant comparison and reflexively analyzing and interpreting data simultaneously (Altheide and Schneider, 2013). The first read-through produced a few key themes, including S.O.O.N. members as ‘criminal,’ and the group as ‘vigilante’ or ‘neo-Nazi’; thus, subsequent analyses identified the presence of these themes in addition to other emergent patterns. Furthermore, the overall tone of the article, and positioning of the group by members of the community, was documented.

Those key themes were used to guide the analysis of the Support Soldiers of Odin Norge Facebook page. The support group has over 4000 members, and rather than operate as a fan page—where you ‘like’ and follow a page to post—the group is closed and requires members to join. However, all posts by administrators and members are public to the whole Facebook community and not just members who join S.O.O.N. Thus, there is no expectation of privacy when posting to the group.⁴

With the support group, we were interested in how S.O.O.N. used this networked space to forge and contest their identity. To that end, the analysis included multiple reads of all Facebook posts (from both S.O.O.N. members and supporters), images, memes, and organizational documents from the creation of the page in January 2016 to the end of the study period in January 2017. Because of the ethnographic and qualitative nature of our analysis, we were not interested in the quantity of posts or frequency of specific words. Instead we focused on rhetoric in the posts or documents that seemed to confront mediated constructions of the group in the news articles. By using an ethnographic method, we could analyze multiple texts while also assessing the intertext (Jones, 2015).

Following Hendriks, Duus, and Ercan (2016), our analysis extended beyond the text of posts and documents to the visual artifacts—specifically, images, memes, and symbols. The intertextuality of the visual rhetoric was considered in light of whether the symbolic meaning aligned with other texts found on the page, or rather supported the mediated constructions identified in the study. The discussion begins with the key themes identified in the news content analysis, moves to the contestations of these constructions and ambiguous rhetoric on the Facebook page, and concludes with an assessment of S.O.O.N. as a ‘media-based collectivity’ (Couldry and Hepp, 2017).

Criminals, neo-Nazis, and vigilantes

The VG first reported on the Finnish chapter of S.O.O. in January 2016, after the collective debuted in Kemi in late 2015. The collective was described as a “new vigilante group,” noting the previous ties of the founder and some members to the far-right Finnish Resistance Movement (SVL), as well as their criminal histories (Rosendahl and Forsell, 2016). The group was described as vigilante due to the nature of their debut—night patrols of migrant centers in Kemi with dogs, while dressed in hoodies with the S.O.O. logo (Figure 1).

Figure 1.

Soldiers of Odin patrol migrant centers in Finland.

In the same article, Finland’s Interior Minister responded that “to patrol the streets is extremism” and “does not increase safety.” Members of S.O.O. countered those statements with the following: “Attacks are not in line with our principles, just defense. And everyone has the right to defend themselves if they are attacked.” The article ends by mentioning the rise in vigilante groups after the suspected rape of a girl by an asylum seeker, with authorities asserting that asylum seekers as perpetrators were under investigation in only 10 of the 1000 possible rapes on average annually. Thus, the ‘discourse of fear’ was disproportionate to the threat, producing conditions ripe for “quasi-vigilantism” (Altheide and Coyle, 2006: 289).

In the first article on S.O.O. in VG, the mediated discourse provided a template that was echoed in subsequent articles analyzed on S.O.O.N.—a statement of opposition to violence from politicians or community members, a defensive response by S.O.O.N., and a focus on the possible criminal or neo-Nazi inclinations of group members. The dominant narrative perpetuated by elite politicians and the press about S.O.O.N. is that the group functions as ‘vigilante,’ although public support for the group was split among political party identification. Prime Minister Erna Solberg criticized the values of the group, also referring to them as vigilante, and suggested they could be dangerous. The anti-immigrant Progress Party, however, defended the patrols, with politician Jan Arild Ellingsen stating that Norwegian police lack resources, and “any citizen who wants to help to reduce insecurity and reduce crime, should be praised for it” (Hegvik, 2016). Likewise, a national poll of 1004 Norwegian citizens at the height of press on S.O.O.N. in February 2016 found more support for the group among those who identified with the Progress Party (Hegvik, 2016).

In regards to other state actors, police quotes were either neutral or negative when interviewed about the group in February 2016. Several of the news articles reported that officers wished to remain impartial, and would allow the patrols to continue as long as there was no potential for harm. For example, during the first patrol of S.O.O.N. in Tonsberg, the head of uniformed police Frank Gran stated: “It is solely the police mission to enforce peace and order, but they walk around downtown and behave properly, they should of course be left in peace.” In commenting on the possible criminal history among members, he stated that did not matter since each member had “served his punishment” and “made up for themselves” (Ravndal, 2016).

More recently, however, S.O.O.N. members were expelled by police in two cities (Arendal and Grimstad) for private patrols, and members were arrested for patrolling in the city of Trondheim. Vegar Martinsen, the head of the dialogue group in the Oslo organized crime division stated he was concerned S.O.O.N. “will provoke violent conflict” (VG, 2016). S.O.O.N. recently won a court battle initiated by the police after a S.O.O.N. member refused to remove the logo from his jacket during a patrol in Kongsvinger.⁵

Similar to mediated discourse on the Finnish chapter, rhetoric about whether S.O.O.N. was a neo-Nazi or extremist group primarily stemmed from S.O.O.N. leader Ronny Alte’s ties to two other far-right groups in Norway (Pegida and the Norwegian Defense League). In the news articles analyzed from February 2016, however, Alte articulated their purpose as providing security and safety, services traditionally provided by the government. He stated “We care neither about religion or skin color. We just want it to be safe in the city,” and that “potential rapists and drug dealers were afraid to move around the city when they know there are a bunch of above average, well-trained men who do not appreciate them in town” (Ravndal, 2016). Yet by the end of February, S.O.O.N. administrators had removed Alte from the organization due to his past far-right group affiliation and his public comments to VG about the danger posed by illegal immigrants. The new leader stated to VG that neo-Nazis were not welcome, and that “to become a full member and get the sweater, there are some criteria. If you are connected to a crime or front neo-Nazism, then you cannot become a member. We must follow Norwegian law” (Quist et al., 2016).

Additional support for characterizing the group as neo-Nazi was the result of one journalist’s visit to the S.O.O. headquarters in Finland, which was decorated in Nazi memorabilia and White supremacy propaganda (Simons, 2016). Furthermore, interviews with members during that visit revealed extremist views held by some members, with statements such as “if things carry on like this, ethnic cleansing will be necessary,” “the white population will be replaced by other races if we can’t change the current situation,” and “some races may have lower average IQ than us” (Simons, 2016). These statements echo extremist beliefs common to other White nationalist/supremacy groups in both the USA and Europe, including essentialist arguments about race as fixed and hierarchical, as well as “white genocide” (see King, 2015 and Perry, 2004).

However, no members of S.O.O.N. were quoted in the news articles using oppressive or racist speech, or making anti-immigrant statements, with the exception of Alte. After his removal, the rhetoric about the goals of S.O.O.N. became more palatable, or what Meddaugh and Kay (2009) refer to as “reasonable racism.” Rather than overtly racist speech, in the 21st century extremists have coopted the language of inclusiveness, including “diversity, ethnic nationalism, and identity politics,” which they use “to claim the right to the promotion and preservation of … unique features of white culture, heritage, and tradition” (King, 2015: 305). This becomes evident in the more democratic and thus less context-controlled social media realm analyzed in the next section, as the inclusive rhetoric is simultaneously contradicted with intimidating group posturing in photos, memes about Odin privileging war and battle, and symbolic appeals to ethnic nationalism through Viking culture and imagery.

Odin’s ravens

In the first half of 2016, the Facebook support group posts and discourse revolved around mediated constructions of S.O.O.N., as members “interacted with the narrative” put forth by the news media as culture creators (Katz, 2016: 242). S.O.O.N. leadership created an echo chamber and feedback loop by posting an article, contesting the extremist discourse, and taking action to confront said narrative. For example, Alte was removed from the group in response to assertions about his extremist ties in news articles—an issue addressed in detail on several posts. The new leader declared an organizational restructuring of the group to eliminate potential criminals or neo-Nazis, and documents were uploaded to the page outlining the mission of S.O.O.N. in a “reversal of narrative” (Katz, 2016: 242).

In contesting the mediated identity and reversing the narrative, S.O.O.N. also forged a new one—that of community watch. They utilize social media as an arena for discursive reconstruction of identity (Jones, 2014: 323), by first claiming not to be reserve police. Instead, they introduced the narrative that they are night-walkers or ‘ravens,’ describing the collective as a type of “raven-service that aims to create safer living conditions and environment for children, youth and adults across age, gender, ethnic background, sexual orientation, religion and profession.” Rather than interfere with state and police duties, they seek to provide a visual deterrent to potential criminals while adhering to Norwegian law. Thus, the collective acts more in a “night-watch” and surveillance capacity.

With asserting safety as the primary goal, S.O.O.N positions the group as analogous to Natteravnene, a community non-profit organization that began in Oslo in 1990. The group works with police to patrol public areas during the weekend, providing a visible (see Figure 2) deterrent to anti-social behavior, as well as providing assistance to people in need. S.O.O.N. claims that like Natteravnene their goals are preventative, rather than interventionist, and they should be considered a private raven group. They use the networked space to alter and contest the dominant narrative depicted in news reports by positioning themselves as “heroes” (Kraus, 2007; Van Langenhove and Harre, 1999), and constructing their narrative as that of moral agents (Sandberg et al., 2015).

Figure 2.

Natteravnene.

The members also directly confront characterizations of the group as extremist in the organizational documents in multiple ways. For example, they challenge depictions of Odin with the following:

Soldiers of Odin stand for completely different and healthy, good values. Odin was the God of knowledge and wisdom, and fundamental values like empathy, humanity, helpfulness and the general act of caring, are things we value very highly. Our Norse heritage is about far more than violence and looting, which we unfortunately have been accused of living by.

Here, S.O.O.N. contests symbolic representations of Odin as a warrior God, even though the group identifies as soldiers in Odin’s army. In contrast, they depict Odin as the embodiment of the collective values found today in the social democracies of Scandinavian society, rather than the “rape and pillage” violence associated with Viking culture. They seek only to help, not harm, and that help extends to everyone.

Yet the visual images on the Facebook page contradict the caretaker symbolism. First, the S.O.O. logo is a picture of Odin in a horned helmet, with a blank eye socket (symbolizing the eye Odin lost to gain wisdom in Norse mythology), and a scarf over his face with the flag of each member country (Figure 3).

Figure 3.

Soldiers of Odin Norge.

Odin quotes about battle, and graphic depictions of Odin in battle gear, also contradict descriptions of Odin as representing good and healthy values. Kjeldsen (2000) argued that the intertextual juxtaposition of such images and rhetoric in internet memes, such as in Figure 4, are meant to operate as visual cues.

Figure 4.

Odin’s soldiers.

When considering the differences between S.O.O.N. and Natteravnene, descriptions of Odin versus Thor in Norse mythology provide a useful contrast. Odin was a warrior and friend of outlaws who was kicked out of Asgard—ultimately dying in a final battle (Henderson, 2014). In contrast, Thor was depicted as the hero representing law and order, like the Natteravnene who work with the police to provide an additional layer of safety. By redefining the narrative that they are soldiers in Odin’s army, S.O.O.N. embraces the warrior, rather than hero, archetype—a soldier’s job is to fight. Like soldiers, S.O.O.N. members also wear ‘battle gear’—black jackets/hoodies that they refer to as “sweaters,” with the S.O.O.N. logo on the back. Thus, a visual signifier is provided to reinforce the reversal of narrative (Ferrell et al., 2015; Katz, 2016).

In addition to depictions of Odin, we found two other contradictory visuals: one photo that uses the word “evil” in reference to an ominous, yet unidentified threat; and a meme with a picture of a blonde-haired girl captioned “We need you to fight for our future” (Figure 5). The eschatological proclamations in these visuals are common among religiously-inspired extremist groups in the USA (Vysotsky and McCarthy, 2016; White, 2001); yet, no text appears on the social media page that signals an affinity with these groups. The symbolic meaning, however, is not lost as the visual images/memes serve as those “ambiguous participatory frameworks,” where multiple stories are told (Ferrell et al., 2015; Jones, 2015).

Figure 5.

Fight for our future.

While the visual rhetoric is ambiguous, it still carries a “set of symbols and ideals” that transmit specific messages to particular audiences (Barlas Bozkus, 2016). S.O.O.N. utilizes multiple discursive elements in an attempt to control the narrative, and rescript an alternative—Odin’s ravens. The raven symbolizes the watcher, and these symbols allow the group to construct their collective identity based on a long-established watch group supported in Norwegian communities (Hendriks et al., 2016). When S.O.O.N. invokes the raven as a heuristic, they are encouraging their audience to filter this new information through a predefined cultural script (Ferrell et al., 2015; Sandberg et al., 2014). In some ways, this backfires as Norwegian citizens stated in news reports that S.O.O.N. members could have joined Natteravnene rather than express group identity using the symbolism of Vikings. S.O.O.N. responds to these assertions through rhetoric that confronts historical narratives privileging violence in Viking culture, while simultaneously reclaiming and redefining the cultural narrative (Katz, 2016).

The group contradicts the inclusive rhetoric developed in the discourse, however, by symbolically aligning themselves with Viking culture rather than a multi-cultural Norwegian society. Similar to Norwegian extremist group Vigrid, they appeal to ethnic nationalism by incorporating Norse mythology. To a particular audience, the intertextual cues are to White nationalism, due to historical links between Norse mythology and Nazism (White, 2001). Because of S.O.O.N.’s Viking lineage, immigrants to Norway may become Norwegian, but they can never be “the progeny of an ancient Viking culture and the ideological inheritors of its Norse mythology” (Henderson, 2014: 1048).

Media-based collectivities

Although the mediated discourse focused on vigilantism and the criminal proclivities of some members, the group patrols in Norway, at least, have been notably absent of either. Similar to other movements, such as Occupy Wall Street (OWS), the notoriety of S.O.O.N. has increased as they have “gained attention and followers via social media” and the “virtual world movement has “mirrored” and eclipsed the “real-world movement” (Huntington, 2016: 78). For S.O.O.N., their identity was molded through the process of contesting media constructions, so we analyze S.O.O.N. as one of Couldry and Hepp’s (2017) ‘media-based collectivities.’ The online collectivity developed around media content—specifically support for S.O.O.N.—but became a democratic arena for contestation and identity development of its real-life counterpart (Polletta, 2006). Through discourse on the social media platform and visual imagery, group members “construct an intense situational belonging to each other” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 69). The communicative function of the group, around a shared topic of interest, became secondary to providing “an important stage for discursive contestation” where S.O.O.N. leadership sought to rescript the dominant narrative (Hendriks et al., 2016: 1103).

As a ‘media-based collectivity,’ S.O.O.N. constructs their identity “through new figurations that are highly mediated” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 147). Pictures of S.O.O.N. members rarely show them patrolling; rather, most are intimidating group shots with an emphasis on the uniform. These group images converge with popular culture as cultural scripts are used to build solidarity (Ferrell et al., 2015; Hendriks et al., 2016; Sandberg and Ugelvik, 2016). In this case, the TV show Vikings has become popular in the last couple of years, and the Facebook support group likely draws heavily from the international fan base of the show. The similarities in name between ‘Sons of Anarchy’ and ‘Soldiers of Odin’ are notable and work to reinforce the outlaw image. In the USA, groups that invoke Viking names and imagery evolved from the neo-Nazi movement and are typically White supremacist, a fact that was portrayed in ‘Sons of Anarchy’ (Dobratz, 2001).

Relying on this cultural script, S.O.O.N. closely resembles an outlaw motorcycle gang in style and substance (Ferrell et al., 2015). The uniform is more reminiscent of outlaw motorcycle gang than soldier, though still visually intimidating. While the news sources relied on images of S.O.O.N. members to construct the vigilante discourse, social media offers a “performative palette” where the support page becomes the stage to ‘enact the social’ (Papacharissi, 2010: 307). The group utilizes the rich communicative tools of social media to contest and rescript their identity as a collectivity. An example of this would be one of the first pictures posted to the support group, the image of two members in uniform walking at night with arms around two women (Figure 6). Arguably, this photo was provided as a counter to the more intimidating pictures of S.O.O.N. that accompanied most news articles, and to provide visual evidence to support the ‘raven’ rhetoric.

Figure 6.

Soldiers of Odin Norge escort women.

The picture also highlights an obsession with the safety of women that was echoed in quotes by members in VG and was suggested on the Facebook page with posts about reported sexual assaults in Norway, mirroring the patriarchal discourse commonly found among other White nationalist groups (Ferber, 1998). In categorizing S.O.O.N. as a ‘media-based collectivity,’ it is instructive to recall that they debuted after the refugee crisis, and their origin is linked to mediated discourse on immigrants and crime. The ‘discourse of fear’ was initiated with widespread reports on the New Year’s Eve assaults on women in Germany, and the first article in VG on the Finland chapter highlighted a concern for the safety of women as well. Thus, the initial ‘figuration’ of the group was a response to a mediated fear of immigrants (Elias, 1991 [1939]).

Although S.O.O.N. continued to expand throughout 2016, with sporadic patrols in several Norwegian cities, most of the group’s activity seems to revolve around participation and representation in the online collectivity. A more recent post by S.O.O.N. leadership indicated frustration with the “lack of support” from the support group, and stated lurkers would be removed for not interacting with the community. Such a declaration lends further support to the social media site providing the primary space in which members ‘enact the social.’ The act of participation in the support group lends legitimacy to the existence of S.O.O.N., but also participation in the virtual community quickly eclipsed real-world activity, such as night patrols. Thus, S.O.O.N. remains a primarily ‘media-based collectivity.’

Discussion and conclusion

The influx of immigrants and refugees coupled with the rhetoric surrounding the War on Terrorism has activated latent nativist tendencies among many Western populations, as evidenced by the growth in support of far-right political parties and the rise of groups that operate outside the political structure. One of these groups, Soldiers of Odin Norge, formed following the 2015 New Year’s Eve attacks in Germany. In this article we assessed the identity-building messaging and narratives of S.O.O.N as it navigates the dominant cultural narratives that align with liberal and social democracy. By sampling the dominant public discourse around S.O.O.N as an unnecessary, criminal, and vigilante byproduct of contemporary national challenges, we were able to highlight the intertextual exchange between it and S.O.O.N’s own mediatized attempts at building a collective group identity.

As a ‘media-based collectivity,’ S.O.O.N struggles to control its identity in an ambiguous participation framework. It officially rejects the dominant narrative of the group as a possible threat or danger to Norway’s rule of law, but then utilizes texts, artifacts, and imagery within the social media group that are read by certain audiences as nativist, White nationalist, and supportive of violence. Yet, S.O.O.N. is unique from other mediatized collectives that exist solely online because they have maintained an active, albeit muted, presence in the streets while influencing the rise of S.O.O. chapters worldwide. While S.O.O.N. activity is down, its message, symbols, and activities have spread to several new countries including Australia, Canada, and the United States. Despite minimal cultural connections to Norse artifacts, these groups adopt S.O.O.N’s symbols to spread anti-immigration messages. Furthermore, some of these groups have incorporated a level of violence that S.O.O.N actively avoided in their desire for legitimacy. For example, in March of this year, some S.O.O. members from the Vancouver, Canada chapter were arrested after fighting with protestors at an anti-racism rally in the city (Lye and Little, 2017).

Although S.O.O.N. has contested the extremist label, the international appeal of Viking culture and the mediatized nature of the collectivity has enhanced the visibility of the organization. Thus, one of the implications in the rise of media-based collectivities such as S.O.O.N. is that their influence extends beyond the digital platform. Like Occupy Wall Street (OWS) in the United States, S.O.O. has become transnational as it offers “symbolic resources for imagining oneself as part of such a wider collectivity” and “in so doing supported its own spread beyond the figurations of the local” (Couldry and Hepp, 2017: 180). Furthermore, new media-based collectivities emerging in the United States, such as the Proud Boys, might be characterized primarily as online organizations, yet their members engage in a variety of activities beyond digital communication (Long, 2017).

One concern in moving beyond the participatory culture of the networked space is that S.O.O.N. loses control of the narrative as other figurations of S.O.O. that emerge are more likely to resemble the original iteration of the group that began in Finland (Jenkins, 2006). For example, citizen patrol groups in Germany and Bulgaria unabashedly, and often violently, serve vigilante justice to non-natives, but international media coverage connects these groups to S.O.O.N as part of a larger citizen movement (Huetlin, 2017).

In this study, through our analysis we provide insight into how groups use social media to build and maintain collective identities, while simultaneously contesting the dominant narrative about the group in an effort to gain legitimacy as a social actor. As support for far-right political ideology grows throughout the Western world, it is important to pay attention to the non-institutionalized actors that provide community and offer validity and acceptability to views that counter multiculturalism and liberal democracy. Citizen groups like S.O.O.N. normalize and publicize populist, nationalist, and anti-immigrant views. Intertextual appeals to celebrated cultural artifacts mask nefarious agendas in the familiar and attract those dissatisfied with the status quo. Political parties that activate and appeal to these concerns command growing electoral success in recent elections, as evidenced by Germany’s anti-Islamic Alternative für Deutschland, Hungary’s anti-Semitic Jobbik, and France’s anti-immigrant Front National. Our analysis assessed the community-building process of political parties’ popular support. The contemporary rise of the extreme right challenges the liberal democratic order, and this article provides an intensive look at the messaging strategies utilized by one group to contribute to a better understanding of the sources of this larger phenomenon. Future research should build on this project by asking: In which contexts is legitimacy a necessary goal for these groups, and is survival of the group dependent upon control of localized messaging or linkages to a broader agenda? In addition, as this study was the first to apply the theory of ‘media-based collectivities’ to an extremist group, future studies should further explore how the dynamics of such groups are transformed through their engagement with media.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

The authors would like to Kjell Magne Osvald Berg and Lars Kristiansen for help with translation, as well as assistance in the development of this research. The authors would like to thank the anonymous reviewers for their comments on earlier versions of this manuscript.

Declaration of conflicting interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Notes

Author biographies

Tammy Castle is an associate professor in the Department of Justice Studies at James Madison University, USA.

Tara Parsons is an assistant professor in the Department of Justice Studies at James Madison University, USA.

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