I imagine you’re familiar with quisling. It’s a pretty well-known word. The broadest definition is ‘traitor’, but more particularly it’s ‘citizen who collaborates with an occupying force’ – and more particularly still ‘citizen who serves as a political puppet of an invading country’.
It’s a word with a certain something: echoes of queasy and gosling and underling and questionable and quiz and maybe even weaseling… all those quirky q words plus the slick clinging sling, said “zling.” And it’s an eponym: Vidkun Quisling was the puppet head of government for Norway when the Nazis were in control of the country. One may well wonder: given how phonaesthetically apt quisling seems for a traitorweasel, to what extent was Vidkun Quisling’s name his destiny?
The full story of Quisling’s life and poor choices and their consequences is widely available, but I’ll give a quick run-down here. Vidkun Quisling was born in 1887 in southern Norway. He was an academically gifted student who found his way into the diplomatic corps. In 1929 he settled back in Norway and became active in national politics, moving gradually towards fascism and publishing openly racist views. By 1932 he was head of a new political party, Nasjonal Samling (National Unity), with support from many in the Oslo upper classes. However, although he thought that Norwegians were the most racially superior people in the world, Norwegians didn’t, overall, return the esteem; his party underperformed badly in elections.
But when Hitler came to power, Quisling saw him as a hero and model and offered assistance in his goals. And, in early April 1940, when Norway found itself unable to remain neutral in World War II, Vidkun Quisling was ready to head up a German-backed government, and he attempted a coup in aid of that. However, Hitler wanted more legitimacy; he asked King Haakon of Norway to appoint Quisling prime minister. Haakon said no way, no one wants that guy. Hitler said OK, appoint someone else then. And Quisling was out… for the moment.
But the king really didn’t want German domination, so Hitler suspended the monarchy and appointed a German governor-general to run the country. And at length, through political manoeuvring and general sucking up to Hitler, by the end of 1940 Quisling made his way into the halls of power with his Nasjonal Samling, which was then declared the only party allowed. And by 1942 he was, with German backing, “minister president.”
Quisling’s views were very much in line with Hitler’s – including virulent antisemitism – except that he saw Norwegians, not Germans, as the ultimate master race, and he wanted full independence for Norway… with him in command, of course. An obstacle to this was that he was, by this time, ferociously unpopular among Norwegians, and all his power came from German backing. Hitler could see quite well that if he cut the strings, Quisling would fall as quickly and completely as any puppet.
And, indeed, as soon as Germany surrendered in early May 1945, Quisling’s government fell and he was arrested. Long story short: in October 1945 he was executed by a firing squad in Oslo.
So yeah. A guy who, unable to achieve all his goals domestically, decided to take the opportunity of an invading power to gain his ends – but of course, since the invaders had the real power, he was always just being used for their ends. He betrayed his country to try to build his vision of his country; he helped an invading power to build his own stature. And the result? Well, he did become famous…
In fact, he was internationally famous even before he actually became head of the puppet government. As soon as he attempted the pro-German coup in April 1940, his renown was established: The Times published an editorial under the headline “Quislings everywhere” which said, among other things, “To writers, the word ‘Quisling’ is a gift from the gods. If they had been ordered to invent a new word for traitor… they could hardly have hit upon a more brilliant combination of letters. Aurally it contrives to suggest something at once slippery and tortuous.” The word caught on quickly; by June 1941, Churchill was using it in speeches, such as in one to Allied delegates: “A vile race of Quislings—to use a new word which will carry the scorn of mankind down the centuries—is hired to fawn upon the conqueror, to collaborate in his designs and to enforce his rule upon their fellow countrymen while groveling low themselves.”
It really is a wormy and weak kind of word in its way. Which, by the way, doesn’t match the visual presence of Vidkun Quisling: he was reasonably tall, reasonably well built, reasonably good looking. But what does that matter, eh? When you’re a treacherous weasel? And when you have that slippery Q right there?
Which, by the way, is not a typical Norwegian letter at all. Norwegian has never had a need for qu; it’s always been just fine with kv. This advocate of the superiority of Norwegianness who surrendered the real power to a foreign invader had a name that also drew on esteem for a foreign invader: Latin. (English has likewise acquired some q spellings through such esteem; for instance, Old English cwen is now queen.)
You see, one of Quisling’s ancestors was from Kvislemark, a village in Denmark. (The village name appears to come from Old Norse kvísl ‘branch, fork’ and mǫrk ‘borderland, woodland’ – forking around the border?) The ancestor in question, on moving up to Norway, decided to make a Latinate derivative, Quislinus, which he then shortened to Quislin. And that, over time, re-Scandinavianized its ending to Quisling. If his ancestor had simply kept Kvislemark – and perhaps stayed in Denmark – do you think the name would have become a byword for betrayal of one’s homeland? It seems as though by chasing esteem by borrowing on a foreign power, he ended up with exactly the wrong kind of renown.
So Vidkun Quisling’s name was, in a way, his destiny. Oh, and what about his first name? Vidkun is no foreign invader: it’s a purely Norse name, sometimes spelled Vidkunn (double n). It comes from Old Norse víðr ‘widely’ + kunnr ‘known’ – in other words, ‘famous’.
Sesquiotica 