Skip to main content

Freetown Christiania: Denmark’s Controversial Commune


The Christiania area within Denmark’s capital is a place both reviled and celebrated.  It is a controversial community considered a successful social experiment by some, a lawless drug den by others.  Christiania’s shift from military base to hedonistic commune can be seen as the ultimate flower power siege, but four decades on it’s certainly not all peace, and its future hangs in the balance.


Fashioned from city ramparts built by King Christian IV in 1617, and the military barracks of Bådsmandsstræde, Christiania (also called Freetown Christiania) is an autonomous 850-strong community.  It began after the barracks were abandoned in 1971 and local residents broke-in to use the base as a playground for their children, complaining about the lack of affordable housing in Copenhagen.  (The shed above was used for executions, with 46 civilians sentenced to death for crimes committed in Denmark during World War Two.)


On 26 September 1971, journalist Jacob Ludvigsen proclaimed Christiania “the land of the settlers”, adding: “The objective of Christiania is to create a self-governing society whereby each and every individual holds themselves responsible over the wellbeing of the entire community. Our society is to be economically self-sustaining and, as such, our aspiration is to be steadfast in our conviction that psychological and physical destitution can be averted.”


And thus a community was born, the spirit of which has become synonymous with the hippie movement, collectivism and anarchy – in contrast to its disciplined military past.  The neighbourhood is governed by the Christiania Law of 1989, which transfers parts of its supervision from the municipality of Copenhagen to the state, which owns the former base.


Christiania’s relationship with the authorities is complicated and controversial.  Residents govern themselves by concensus, but pay taxes for water, electricity and waste disposal.  Acceptance of drug addicts and other social misfits has helped build Christiania’s identity, to the point where they are considered as important to the community as the “entrepreneurs” who run it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Largest Abandoned Machine in the World! This tremendous basin wheel excavator is accepted to be the greatest deserted machine on the planet.  The pictures battle to demonstrate the sheer size of the coal-burrowing machine, which was nicknamed 'The Blue Miracle', is 370 feet long and 190 feet tall and was worked with 3,500 tons of steel.  Every single one of its 20 containers could gather up 52 cubic feet of coal - identical to 10 baths.  The beast machine went through 50 years uncovering lignite - a type of dark colored coal - in eastern Germany before it was at long last made excess in 2003.  It worked at various diverse open-cast mines - the last being the Welzow Süd mine - trundling between them on primary streets, utilizing its goliath caterpillar tracks.  Dutch picture taker Bas van der Poel, 35, captured it in a mechanical memorial park close Dresden, where it has sat throughout the previous 13 years.  The Blue Miracl...
Hashima Island, Japan Hashima Island has a confused history. In any case, what's liberally clear is that when people leave, structures will disintegrate and nature will prosper.  Around nine miles from the city of Nagasaki sits a surrendered island, bereft of occupants yet saturated with history. Hashima Island, when a famous hub for undersea coal mining, was a sharp portrayal of Japan's quick industrialization. Otherwise called Gunkanjima (which means Battleship Island) for its similarity to a Japanese ship, Hashima worked as a coal office from 1887 until 1974.  When the coal holds began exhausting and oil started supplanting coal, the mines close down and the general population left. From that point forward, Hashima Island went disregarded for about three decades. Be that as it may, as deserted solid dividers disintegrated and greenery prospered, the weather beaten island grabbed the eye of those inspired by the undisturbed memorable remains.  ...
Abandoned Hotel in Switzerland Hotel Belvédère, a hotel in the Furka Pass of the Swiss Alps, was once the perfect spot for travelers looking to explore the Rhône Glacier. But as the glacier receded, so did its number of visitors. Since the finish of the nineteenth century, when the Furka Pass street was fabricated, visitors have rushed to the inn for its all encompassing perspectives over the frigid scene. The ice sheet was once just a 600-foot stroll from the lodging and a 300-foot long cavern cut into the ice sheet enabled visitors to travel inside.  Tragically, the Rhône Glacier has lost very nearly a full mile of inclusion over the most recent 100 years or something like that. The 11,000-year-old icy mass has been referred to retreat as much as 10 centimeters in multi day, and reliably loses around 130 feet every year. The cavern, which goes back to as right on time as 1894, can never again be safely cut into the diminishing ice.