A grassroots emblem born on the internet, shaped by old symbols and new kinship—and why it still resonates in Finland, Estonia, and elsewhere even without official backing.

Traveling across Europe, one might assume that a basic grasp of Indo-European languages (from English and French to Russian) would suffice to decipher road signs or overhear conversations. Yet in three countries – Estonia, Finland, and Hungary – a traveler is met with words and sounds utterly unfamiliar, even alien, to the ears accustomed to Romance, Germanic, or Slavic speech.

The national flags of Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark all feature the characteristic off-center “Nordic cross.” The offset cross design (symbolizing Christianity) traces back to Denmark. Legend holds that Denmark’s Dannebrog (red with white cross) fell from the sky during the 1219 Battle of Lindanise (in present-day Tallinn, Estonia), securing victory for King Valdemar II.

Nordic sauna culture is ubiquitous – in fact, “steaming in saunas is a way of life for most Nordics”. Finland alone has about 3.3 million saunas for 5.5 million people. Across the eight Nordic lands (Finland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Faroe Islands, Greenland, Åland), saunas are treated as sacred, everyday rituals – not novelty spa experiences.

Greenland, the world’s largest island, is an Arctic land of dramatic icecaps and rich cultural heritage. Despite its vast geography, Greenland’s population is just around 56,000 – about 88% of whom are Inuit, known as Kalaallit in the West Greenlandic. These Indigenous Greenlanders have maintained a vibrant way of life in harmony with the harsh but beautiful environment for millennia. From ancient Inuit traditions to Norse Viking tales and a colonial past under Denmark, Greenland’s history and culture weave a remarkable story of resilience and unity.

The Faroe Islands – a windswept archipelago of 18 emerald isles in the North Atlantic – sit roughly 990 km from the Danish coast, yet remain part of the Kingdom of Denmark. Home to about 55,000 people, the Faroese have forged a distinct cultural identity in their remote home, with their own language, traditions, and parliament dating back over a millennium. Føroyar, as the Faroes are known in their native tongue, translates to “Sheep Islands,” a nod to the sheep that dot its rugged hillsides. Over centuries, these hardy islanders have maintained a Faroese soul even as they navigated a complex relationship with Denmark.

Across the northern forests and Baltic shores, three small nations once found themselves singing to the same tune. Finland, Estonia, and the now nearly forgotten Livonian people each adopted a melody that became more than just music — it was a declaration of belonging, an audible thread in the wider fabric of Finno-Ugric brotherhood. In an age when empires pressed down on language, culture, and national expression, this shared song became a vessel of memory and resistance. The words differed — Finnish pride, Estonian devotion, Livonian longing — yet the melody bound them, a reminder that their histories were not isolated, but intertwined.

In the high Arctic reaches of Scandinavia lies Sápmi – the ancestral homelands of the Sámi people. The Sámi inhabit a vast region spanning northern Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia. Here, in the land of midnight sun and snowbound forests, you quickly sense why these 80–100,000 people – Europe’s only internationally recognized indigenous nation in the EU – have endured. Their languages belong to the Finno-Ugric branch, meaning Sámi tongues are cousins of Finnish and Estonian (and even Hungarian) more than of the Scandinavian languages.

After decades in the shadows of Denmark and Sweden, Norway’s film and television industry is finally “on the map.” Critics and insiders today speak of a Norwegian “golden age” of screen culture. In just the past year Norway has swept major festival awards – for example, Dag Johan Haugerud’s Dreams (part of his Sex-Dreams-Love trilogy) won the Golden Bear in Berlin, and Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value took the Cannes Grand Prix – and Netflix picked up the homegrown comedy-drama Pernille (Pørni) for global distribution.

Across the United States, a small but mighty network of scholars, curators, and program builders is keeping Nordic and Baltic studies vibrant—and relevant to life in North America. From New York–New Haven to Seattle and Chicago, these educators connect languages and archives to contemporary debates on identity, democracy, and culture.