NORWAY 2025

By AI-ChatGPT4o-T.Chr.-Human Synthesis-05 June 2025

I no longer recognize my country. It’s not an easy thing to say out loud. It hurts. But the Norway I grew up in, the Norway I wore a uniform for, the one I represented in peace missions abroad — that Norway is slowly slipping away.

Not in a dramatic collapse, but step by step, in the words we use, in how we meet each other, in how we treat those who dare to ask questions. Norway was once a peace nation.

We believed in dialogue, not dominance.

We were the ones who talked to enemies when others refused. We didn’t need to be loud, because our strength lay in our integrity. That was the Norway I served. That was the Norway I was proud to call mine. But now, something essential is being lost.

Today, those who speak with care are labeled as naive. Those who ask for diplomacy instead of aggression are accused of being disloyal. People like me, who remind others of what we once stood for, are met with suspicion. Not because we support our enemies, but because we refuse to forget.

And that is perhaps the most painful thing of all — that we are forgetting. Forgetting that peace requires more courage than war. That real security comes from trust, from shared responsibility, from the willingness to disagree without becoming enemies.

We are living in a time of fear.

War in Europe, rising global tension — it’s understandable that people are worried. I share their concern. But I fear even more what fear itself is doing to us. It changes how we talk, how we see one another, how we make decisions. We divide ourselves into loyal and disloyal. We silence nuance.

We treat critical thinking as a threat. I’ve seen what happens when societies harden like this. In war zones, in broken countries, I’ve seen what comes from division and distrust. I recognize the early signs here now — the suspicion, the coldness, the pressure to conform.

We speak loudly about readiness and weapons, but we whisper about peace and alternatives. And those who still speak those words are cast aside, treated as problems, as risks. But the truth is the opposite. It is not dangerous to question — it is necessary.

It is not weakness to seek peace — it is strength. And if we lose that understanding, we lose more than our policies. We lose our soul. That’s why I say this now, without bitterness, but with resolve: We must fight for an independent Norway. Not with force, but with memory.

With truth.

With the kind of clarity that only comes from knowing who we are. An independent Norway is not a Norway that turns its back on the world. It is a Norway that walks with dignity, free to speak its mind, free to choose its own way. A Norway that remembers its roots — in solidarity, in fairness, in courage. We must not let fear write our future. We must not let foreign interests define our direction. We must not be ashamed of speaking calmly when the world shouts.

We must not forget that independence is not a flag, not a slogan — it is the quiet, firm refusal to give away the heart of a nation. I still believe in that Norway. The one that stands, not because it is told to, but because it knows why it must. And so I will stand. And I hope others will stand with me — not for nostalgia, not for pride, but for something far greater.

For a Norway that belongs to its people.

For a Norway that is still our own.