In a pine forest outside Stockholm, a dozen people gathered for an autumn sacrifice to Thor, the Norse god of harvests and storms. The priestess and her followers raised mead-filled horns, offering sausages, cookies, and flaxseeds on a mossy altar. Participants prayed for rain after a drought-ridden summer, strength against unemployment, or a sick mother's recovery. The event, organised by neo-pagan groups, reflects a growing revival of Norse paganism in Sweden.
The revival, though fringe, has gained notable traction. Two formally recognised faith groups, Nordic Asa-Community and Community of Forn Sed Sweden, claim around 2,700 members combined, with 16,000 Facebook followers. They offer naming ceremonies, weddings, funerals, and seasonal sacrifices, with annual events attracting up to 300 participants. This summer, Sweden approved its first new pagan burial ground in nearly a millennium, featuring grass mounds shaped like buried ships in Molkom. A group has also raised £16,707 to build a temple near Gamla Uppsala, once the Viking world's centre.
The trend surprises many in Sweden, a highly secular and tech-savvy nation. Historians note that Viking revivals often accompany existential crises. In the early 19th century, after losing Finland to Russia, Swedes turned to Viking lore to forge a new national identity. Nazi Germany later co-opted Norse symbols for Aryan propaganda, and far-right groups still use them today. While some suspect today's revival links to anti-immigration sentiment, Forn Sed officially declares itself antiracist.
Participants cite varied motivations: climate anxiety, a search for community, or spiritual connection. The movement's growth suggests a broader search for stability in a chaotic age, though it remains a minority phenomenon. As one attendee noted, the rituals offer a way to 'connect with something older and more grounded' in modern times.
