By Alastair HamiltonDecember 18th 2021
Alastair Hamilton

A visitor arriving in Shetland for the first time soon realises that this is a distinctive place. But what creates that sense of difference? What’s Shetland’s particular identity? That’s not an easy question, and if you were to ask everyone who lives here, you might well get 23,000 different answers.

The first impression certainly sticks in the mind. Whether you fly into Sumburgh Airport or are up bright and early to catch your first glimpses of Shetland from the ferry, it’s clear that this is a very different landscape from the one you left behind.

The weather is different, too. Those arriving in summer will usually find it’s a bit cooler than farther south; in winter, it may be slightly milder, but when snow does come, it's memorable.

But the thing a visitor is most likely to notice is the wind. We do have calm periods, but anything from a gentle breeze to a gale is normal.

In that stretch of the south mainland, and elsewhere in the islands, the coastline is dominated by cliffs, punctuated here and there by beautiful beaches. Beyond them rises a range of ice-sculpted hills, clad in grass and heather. Trees are rare in this part of Shetland; there are rather more farther north, in a few plantations or town and village gardens. However, some of the best arable land in Shetland is in the south.

Early Shetlanders

Those first impressions would have been partly shared by the first settlers arriving in Shetland, via Orkney and Fair Isle, about 5,000 years ago. They’d probably have found many more trees, though, because hazel, birch and willow scrubland was widespread before humans and their sheep intervened.

These people would have made landfall near Sumburgh. There, they built Shetland’s first villages. Their Neolithic technology gradually gave way to bronze and then iron age capabilities and the impressive site at Jarlshof has remains from all those early periods.

Christianity probably arrived in the sixth or seventh centuries AD, as it appears to have done in other parts of the north and west of Scotland, introduced to a Pictish culture by Irish monks. The Pictish people left many relics, for example carved stones, but the lack of written records means that we know relatively little about them. We do know that their culture was well established by around 800AD, shortly before another chapter in Shetland's story opened.

A Scandinavian invasion

In understanding Shetland’s identity today, what happened next is crucial. In the early ninth century, and certainly by 850AD, Vikings (the word means raiders) reached Shetland in their longships from western Norway.

What then happened to those Pictish people isn’t clear. Was there a genocide? Did they flee southwards to join their cousins in the Highlands? Or did Norse and Pictish communities live side by side? Specialists cannot be entirely sure, but peaceful assimilation is probably the least-favoured theory.

Vikings settled elsewhere around the northern and western coasts of Scotland, but the Norse presence in Shetland – and Orkney – endured longer than anywhere else. Shetland became part of the Danish-Norwegian kingdom and remained so for six hundred years until, in 1469, the islands were pawned by the Danish monarch to the Scottish crown to fulfil a marriage settlement. This period in Shetland’s history is exquisitely commemorated in the wonderful windows in Lerwick Town Hall, which display some of the very best examples of secular stained glass in Britain.

Despite attempts by the Danes to do so, the arrangement was never reversed and Shetland came under Scottish control, though in practice the transition was a gradual one.

The better part of another six centuries has now passed, but the influence of Norse rule lingers. It’s immediately obvious in Norse placenames when you travel around the islands. We have a Lerwick while in both Norway and Faroe they have Lerviks; the name means ‘muddy bay’. The placenames are one of the elements in Shetland culture that set the islands apart.

Like the placenames, the language is different from any in Scotland. Folk sometimes ask if Gaelic is used here, but it never has been, other than by small numbers of Gaelic speakers who’ve moved from elsewhere. We don’t know much about the language that the Pictish people spoke, but scholars reckon that it was much more like Welsh or Breton than Scottish Gaelic. It was eradicated under Norse rule.

The Shetland dialect is recognisable as a branch of Scots, with English in the mix too. Many words are rooted in Norn, the now-extinct Scandinavian language which was once spoken in Shetland, and there are close parallels with modern Faroese and Icelandic. In Shetland, for instance, the bird known in English as an oystercatcher is called a shalder; in Faroe, it’s a tjaldur, and the pronunciation is closer than the spelling.

Although oystercatchers may look much the same in Shetland or Faroe, it's worth mentioning, while on the subject of wildlife, that Shetland does have some variations in flora and fauna.

The Shetland wren is a little larger and darker than its southern cousins; and if you mention Shetland anywhere in the world, the first associated word may well be ‘pony’. But we also have our own native sheep and cattle, and there are subtle differences, too, in flowers such as the red campion. Such examples led Charles Darwin to correspond with Shetland naturalists in refining his theory of natural selection.

The islands are distinctive in another respect: they're a landfall for birds during the spring and autumn migrations, and species from North America, eastern Russia or southern Europe often delight local and visiting bird watchers.

But back to those signs of Scandinavian influence.

Although many of Shetland’s buildings from earlier centuries are indistinguishable from their Scottish counterparts, they have some strikingly Scandinavian examples for company. The best historical example is probably at Lower Voe, in the north mainland, which would fit very snugly into any Norwegian, Faroese or Icelandic coastal setting.

More recently, that Scandi style has been widely adopted in housing, with painted timber or silvery-grey Siberian larch replacing the rendered concrete that was mostly used until the 1980s, or the stone employed until around the 1920s.

If Shetland sounds and looks different from places farther south, how does it feel? Well, we may have our occasional disagreements and we’re not free of social problems, but it’s safe to say that although locations such as Meal beach (seen above, during filming) look spectacular, the islands really don’t feel like the joyless, angst-ridden place portrayed in the Shetland TV series, nor of course are people’s lives dominated by a succession of murders.

The mood is mostly far more lightsome – a word Shetland folk use a lot – than the scripts convey. What’s more – with the exception of Sandy, who’s played by Shetland-born Steven Robertson – the accents in the series are mostly from central Scotland.

But does Shetland feel ‘Scandinavian’? Well, we certainly recognise and mark the links with our northern neighbours. Our connections with Faroe go back a long way, especially in relation to fishing practices; and all those linguistic reminders of Norse rule are supplemented by the much more recent experience of the Second World War, when the ‘Shetland Bus’ – initially, a fleet of Norwegian fishing boats – plied the North Sea in winter to support the Norwegian resistance to the Nazis.

That heroism is marked in Scalloway – the main operational base – where the museum tells the very moving story. That museum was opened by the then Norwegian Prime Minister.

A few years earlier, the Queen of Norway, with the Duke and Duchess of Rothesay, opened the Shetland Museum in Lerwick. Folk from Shetland are given the warmest of welcomes up and down the west coast of Norway, and Norwegian yachts are frequent summer visitors to Shetland harbours.

The historical ties are reflected, too, in DNA evidence, which suggests that Shetland has more Norwegian DNA – between 23% and 28% - than anywhere else in Scotland.

Then there’s the food tradition, in which perhaps the most-celebrated element is reestit mutton. As in other parts of Scandinavia, preserving food by air-drying is an ancient practice. In Shetland, the mutton is brined for a couple of weeks, then allowed to dry. The drying used to be done in the rafters over the kitchen range, which would also lend a slight smokiness.

A soup made with potatoes and carrots and flavoured with a piece of reestit mutton is simply indispensable at any Shetland celebration, but especially at Christmas and New Year; and reestit mutton is often served on bannocks.

So, these Scandinavian links are part of Shetland consciousness; but it’s also true to say that the Norse connection has been actively cultivated, notably from the 19th century.

Writers promoted the ruggedness of Shetland and its people, linked to the reality or mythology of the Viking past. Sir Walter Scott, in The Pirate, romantically re-imagined the ruined Scottish laird’s house at Sumburgh as ‘Jarlshof’, with supposedly Norse origins; the name stuck.

The Shetland writer, Jessie Saxby, nurtured Viking cultural references in her writings; and the Up Helly Aa festival, far from being ancient, is a product of the same period. All of these influences have trickled down to the Shetland we know today.

The Scottish strand

But there’s a strong Scottish thread, too. Scottish lairds, lawyers, ministers and teachers moved into Shetland after Norse rule ended. As in the Scottish Highlands and elsewhere, the lairds undertook clearances in which people were displaced by sheep. Scalloway Castle, built in 1600 by Earl Patrick Stewart with forced labour, is a monument to those times.

In later centuries, the relationship with Scotland became closer and strong social and economic ties developed. In the 19th and 20th centuries, Shetland seafarers frequently found themselves sailing out of Aberdeen, Leith or Glasgow.

Today, Shetland football fans are likely to support teams such as Aberdeen, Celtic or Rangers, or indeed Arsenal or Spurs. Rugby followers often make the pilgrimage to Murrayfield. Many people go on shopping trips to Scottish cities and it’s not unusual, either, for music-lovers to take in a concert in Glasgow.

Music - in many forms, from rock to jazz and classical to folk - is absolutely central to Shetland life, and the musical scene is extraordinarily vibrant. It's no accident that an eclectic folk festival has been attracting players from all over the world for forty years. Our own traditional musicians, though honouring a Shetland style, are well connected to the Scottish and indeed Irish folk scenes; you can read more about the islands' musical culture here.

Whilst it’s not unknown for a young person from Shetland to study in Norway, most go to Scottish universities and colleges, though it’s now also possible to take degree-level courses in Shetland at the University of the Highlands and Islands.

The relationship between the Scandinavian and Scottish influences is summed up in the design of Shetland’s flag, which combines the blue and white of the Scottish saltire with the Scandinavian cross.

On the other hand, that other well-known Scottish textile, tartan, is much less prominent in the Shetland scene than in other islands or the Scottish mainland, though the Lerwick Pipe Band and quite a few wedding participants wear kilts.

We are, though, known world-wide for knitwear, and in particular for the distinctive Fair Isle patterns. That said, the Shetland designation isn’t legally protected, and so-called ‘Shetland’ garments mostly have no connection with the islands. For the authentic product, it’s essential to buy from a producer based in the islands. An annual Wool Week celebrates that heritage.

But craft work isn't confined to wool. The local creative scene embraces everything from woodworking to painting, glass-making to pottery, and much else besides.

A different politics

There is a distinctiveness about Shetland in political affairs, too. At Westminster, we share an MP with Orkney, Alistair Carmichael. At Holyrood, we have our own MSP, Beatrice Wishart. They are both in the Liberal tradition, like all the other parliamentarians who have represented the islands in the past 70 years. Previous incumbents include the sometime leader of the Liberal Party, Jo Grimond, who served as MP from 1950 to 1983.

Although external commentators sometimes exaggerate, for dramatic effect, the extent of any desire for home rule, it’s certainly true that islanders are often sceptical about ‘one-size-fits-all’ policies emanating from either Holyrood or Westminster. With Orkney and the Western Isles, we’ve sought a measure of ‘island-proofing’ in legislation.

There have been some successes, for example in the introduction of an Air Discount Scheme that lowers the cost of travel, or a reduction in fuel duty that brings petrol and diesel costs close to – or below – non-supermarket prices on the UK mainland.

Much earlier, in the 1970s, Shetland gained comprehensive powers to deal with oil development.

A worldwide perspective

So, there are clear Scottish and Scandinavian components in Shetland’s identity. But it would be very misleading to suggest that those are the only ones.

For centuries, the islands have played host to many other peoples. Shetland is surrounded by prolific fishing grounds and trade in fish has long been part of Shetland life. Merchants involved in the Hanseatic League set up trading posts, indeed at least one of them settled permanently. Dutch fishermen used Bressay Sound as a summer anchorage and their presence led to the establishment of Lerwick.

In two world wars, Shetland’s strategic position required comprehensive defence, so thousands of military personnel were accommodated; again, some of them decided to stay. Much later, in the 1980s and 1990s, scores of fish factory ships from the Eastern Bloc occupied those same waters and Russian was routinely heard in the town.

Today, one of the striking things about the islands is the range of people who choose to settle here. Many people from other nations in the UK, and from other parts of the world, have moved here; my own small corner of Shetland is home to people from Australia, Canada, Ireland, France, Poland and the United States, among other places. Arabic, Bengali, Cantonese, Hungarian, Latvian, Mandarin, Polish, Russian, Spanish and Turkish are just some of the languages dealt with by the Council’s language line.

All of these new Shetlanders bring valued skills, experience and insights; and this traffic is not one-way. Shetland people have long been travellers, either for work or leisure, and have made their way in other parts of the UK or the world. The P&O shipping line was co-founded by Shetlander Arthur Anderson and young Shetland folk today may be working in Edinburgh, Glasgow, London, New York, Tokyo or Geneva.

And it was in Shetland that the Global Classroom was founded, forging links and organising exchanges between secondary schools in places as diverse as South Africa, the Czech Republic, Sweden, Japan and Germany. Shetland is nothing if not outward-looking.

A dynamic community

What else makes the islands unique? There’s no question that the scale and quality of facilities stand out, compared with any other similarly-sized place.

There are eight modern swimming pools, most of them associated with high-quality leisure centres. We have a superb arts centre in Lerwick that features a concert hall and two cinemas.

The modern and very impressive museum in Lerwick is complemented by many local museums, run by community groups dedicated to preserving and celebrating their heritage, for example the Boat Haven in Unst.

A dense network of community halls, again volunteer-run, offers space for all sorts of activities including local concerts and dances, and they’re also known for all-you-can-eat Sunday afternoon teas in aid of hall funds or a range of charities. In fact, the energy and creativity that Shetland folk put into community activities is another striking feature of island life.

There’s all of that, and much more: for example, the Unst bus shelter, or the astonishing network of cake fridges (and other honesty-based outlets) that have seduced us in recent years, or - believe it or not - wallabies.

There’s no doubt, then, that Shetland has a distinct identity; it looks, sounds and feels different from anywhere else, sometimes in subtle ways and sometimes more sharply. Discovering all of this is very much part of a visit to Shetland, or a permanent move.

A wise observer, some years ago, suggested that the islands are most easily understood, and best imagined, as a small country.

She wasn’t wrong.