‘The Danish song is a young blond girl’, wrote the Danish poet Kai Hoffman in 1924, and two years later his famous compatriot, the composer Carl Nielsen, composed a piece of music to accompany the poem. A classic Danish song was born. For generations, it has been a cherished part of Danish ‘folk’ culture.
But last year a female lecturer at the Copenhagen Business school sounded the alarm. When the song was sung during an internal meeting, she felt, as a non-ethnic Dane, that the lyrics excluded her, a non-blond girl. She duly complained to the director of CBS, who promptly agreed and promised an end to the singing of the offensive song. That should have concluded the matter. Many places it would have. Social justice would have prevailed and a cherished tradition would have been broken with. These days such episode raise few eyebrows at American or British universities, who are used to bending over backwards to accommodate the constantly offended amongst their faculty and students.
However, in Denmark something curious happened. The lecturer and the director found themselves in an apparent minority of two, pitched against seemingly universal condemnation and ridicule. Prime Minister Lars Loekke Rasmussen felt the need to speak out in defence of the song, as did Justice Minister Soren Pape Poulsen, who suggested that we would soon have to describe the Danish song as a ‘young, average, older, blond, dark, LGBTIQUHZ person’. People at the heart of power, answerable to the electorate, making light-hearted fun of the grievance of a member of a minority.
The incident marks a new frontier in the culture war that has been raging on these shores for several years. The regressive social justice agenda which has spread via university campuses from the US to Britain is making its slimy way across to the European continent, where concepts like safe spaces, micro aggressions and hate incidents have so far not been part of the daily conversation. Danes should be wary. Denmark has a history of a common sense approach to political correctness and a tolerance for edgy humour. Like England, where the same was true but where that fight has largely been lost, the Danes have a lot to lose. But this particular event may actually benefit Denmark. When the lecturer played her victim card she happened to do it in a particularly ludicrous and unfounded way. Not only that; she also targeted a cherished part of Danish culture. It backfired. The still social justice unconscious Danish public and their political representatives were caught off guard, surprised at the notion that such innocuous century old lyrics could offend anyone – and they reacted how you a few years ago would have expected people to react: they laughed. The hope is that this will help set a rational tone of debate when the SJWs gain their inevitable foothold on Danish shores and remind politicians that a noisy minority does not necessarily reflect the mood of a nation. Maybe the social justice warriors have already overplayed their hand and exposed themselves to the Danish public for the cultural fascists they really are.
For now at least, the Danes are not running scared. For now, common sense prevails. For now, the Danish song is still a young blond girl. Long may it continue.