Breivik survivors fight for their vision of Norway

As Norway prepares to mark the 10th anniversary of the nation's worst peacetime slaughter, survivors of Anders Behring Breivik's assault are battling to keep their vision for their country alive.

On July 22, 2011, Breivik killed 77 people teen members of the Labour Party Youth wing, idealists enjoying their annual camping trip on the tranquil island of Utoya, in a lake northwest of Oslo, the capital.

He had earlier murdered eight people in a bomb attack at government buildings in Oslo.

The victims of the Utoya massacre came from towns and villages throughout Norway, turning a personal tragedy into a collective trauma for many of the country's 5.3 million inhabitants.

Miriam Einangshaug was 16 when the shooting started. She barricaded herself inside one of the buildings on the island for more than an hour listening to the murder of her friends.

Speaking to reporters the next day, she spoke of the incredible bond that existed between the survivors and how people came together in that moment of tragedy.

"It's incredible to see how the young people here have been able to gather together. People are sticking together like nothing I've seen before," she said that day.

July 22 survivors and the bereaved families of the victims have spent ten years learning to live with the tragedy. Some have coped better than others.

"I feel very sorry for that little girl," said Einangshaug, "but I'm also very proud because I have finished my bachelor's degree, I'm starting on the masters degree, and I'm in such a different place now."

"I think the 16-year-old little girl on the 23rd of July, she would have been proud to see where I am today, because she was afraid that her goals and dreams now wouldn't be possible to reach."

In the day following the attack, survivors were joined by a shaken population who were determined to show that Norway would become more — not less — tolerant and reject the worldview that motivated the killer.

A decade later, some survivors believe that collective determination is waning.

"We have political parties in Norway where it's common to spread 'Eurabia' theory (a far-right Islamaphobic conspiracy theory)," said Einangshaug.

"I hope that the right side in Norwegian politics, especially this political party (the right-wing Progress Party), self-reflect and see what we can do to make sure that this doesn't happen again."

Breivik struck at Labour Party institutions he believed were aiding what he called the "Islamization" of Norway. Some survivors are angry by the lack of political responsibility taken to tackle far-right extremism.

In the years following the attack, Norway's security police, the PST, continued to rank Islamists as more likely to carry out domestic terrorism than right-wing extremists.

But after the New Zealand mosque attacks in 2019 killed 51 people, and a copycat attempt by Norwegian shooter Philip Manshaus just outside Oslo later that year in which the killer's sister died, Norway's security police changed its annual assessments.

It now ranks the two forms of extremism at the same danger level.

The 22 July Centre in Oslo provides a place to reflect and teach visitors about the attack.

The testimonies of the victims and the bereaved families can be heard, and it also seeks to explore the emotional impact it has had on the nation.

"Right after the attacks, there was this narrative that Norway gathered, we showed love, we talked about this being an attack of our democracy, but today, I think that many survivors have said that we need to talk about what really was attacked that day," said Stine Furan, a teacher and senior adviser at the centre.

"It was the Labour Party, it was the Labour Youth Party, and many feel that this has been left out of the discussion," said Furan.

Breivik struck at traditional Norwegian values such as democracy and rehabilitation in solving societal problems, testing not only the country's commitment to tolerance and inclusiveness but also to nonviolence and merciful justice.

Yet he still benefits from a justice system that favours rehabilitation over vengeance.

While his sentence can be extended if he is still considered dangerous, Breivik is serving his 21 years in a three-room cell with access to a gym and computer games, luxuries that would be unthinkable even for minor criminals in other countries.

"We will never know, or we can never be quite sure if it never repeats, but of course it's important to talk about the memories for those of us who have them, but also for children and those who come after, that we can talk about how we experienced those days. It's very important," added Furan.