Cultural Heritage and Legal Mobilisation After Terror: July 22 and the Battle for Y

ABSTRACT This article investigates the growing recognition of cultural heritage as a contentious human rights issue. After the bombing of the Norwegian government buildings in Oslo on 22 July 2011, the YBlock, emerged as a cultural heritage object of high symbolic value. The government's megaproject of constructing a new government complex was contested due to its impact on the human right to public space and human rights in public space. Following a lengthy civil society and legal mobilisation campaign to save the Y-Block, it was demolished in 2020. By unpacking three legal arguments put forward to preserve the building, this article contributes to the sociolegal study of legal mobilisation in the Nordic countries and casts light on disputes over cultural heritage, the right to culture, and reconstruction after urban terror. These arguments included the suggestion that a cultural heritage protection process, which had been (illegitimately) halted by the attack, had never formally ended; reference to international human rights norms and transnational policy support; and contestations over process legitimacy, where early ‘hidden' political decisions precluded the YBlock’s preservation. The article concludes that the struggle for the Y-Block was an iconic democratic exercise that reinforced cultural heritage as a collective human rights issue.


Introduction
In Oslo, on the afternoon of 22 July 2011, a bomb placed outside the building housing the Norwegian prime minister's office killed eight people, injured hundreds and caused extensive damage.This was followed by the massacre at Utøya island; known as '22 July', it is the worst terror attack to have happened in the Nordic region.In the aftermath, due to a long-standing political and bureaucratic ambition to house all ministries in a new government complex and a desire to provide high-grade physical security to all employees, the rebuilding of the government buildings in Oslo rapidly evolved into a 1 This article is an output of 'LAW22JULY: RIPPLES: Rights, Institutions, Procedures, Participation, Litigation: Embedding Security', funded by the Research Council of Norway (SAMRISK).No personal data was collected for the article, but the project as such has clearance from the Norwegian NSD.The article draws on insights from a Norwegian-language chapter written for the National Trust of Norway.See Kristin Bergtora Sandvik, 'En ikonisk men feilslått mobilisering: på tide å løfte blikket' Fortidsminneforeningen [2023].I am grateful to Rikke Stjernstrøm for her valuable assistance and to the academics, bureaucrats, legal experts, survivors, politicians, Y-Block activists, and heritage advocates who have shared their insights, some of whom also read and commented on the Norwegian language draft for 'En ikonisk men feilslått mobilisering: på tide å løfte blikket' in 2021.All omissions and mistakes are my own. 2 Gösta Esping-Andersen, The Three Worlds of Welfare Capitalism (Princeton University Press 1990). 3Joar Skrede and Sveinung Krokann Berg, 'Cultural Heritage and Sustainable Development: The Case of Urban Densification' (2019) 10(1) The Historic Environment: Policy & Practice 83. 4 Torgrim Sneve Guttormsen and Grete Swensen, Heritage, Democracy, and the Public: Nordic Approaches (Routledge 2016).
where ' … public spaces are conduits for realizing human rights for all' involving among other rights the right to assembly and association, to free speech, and to participate in cultural life. 5his article suggests that, while the efforts between 2014 and 2020 failed to preserve the Y-Block as cultural heritage, they made it an iconic monument. 6After 2011, it emerged as a cultural heritage object of high symbolic value because it had escaped relatively unscathed from the terror attack.Initially, however, it only had a secondary status derived from its positioning vis-à-vis the H-Block: 'The High Block and the Y-Block make up a modernist high-low composition where the Y-Block bends around the High Block and defines the park area between them.' 7 Writing in 2016, Berg, an important authority on Norwegian cultural heritage issues, observes that an object with national symbolic value before the attack because of architects' and art historians' opinions became subject to public opinion after it.Berg writes that the symbolic value of two blocks increased because of the attack on social democratic values, but that once the plans for the new government complex showed that the Y-Block was an obstacle to densification, this ' … perhaps made it easier to accept the removal of the Y building regardless of the heritage value attached to it'. 8 I argue, however, that because of a well-organised social movement campaign in the years between 2017 and 2021, something happened to the status of the Y-Block, and thus to that of the government complex as a whole.Y's demolition was not accepted as 'necessary' to rebuild the seat of government: this assumption was increasingly perceived as unacceptable, undemocratic, false and at odds with ideas about human rights to culture, which included a more vernacular, domestic idea of national cultural heritage.Viksjø, the architect, had been imprisoned with the future prime minister and 'father of the nation' Einar Gerhardsen in the Nazis' Grini concentration camp towards the end of World War II, 9 and various inferences from this fact became part of the narrative of Y as restorative architecture.It was depicted as ' … the core manifestation of the Gerhardsen administration's modernization project' 10 and a 'cathedral of social democracy'. 11The monumentalisation of Y continued through various types of resistance, including legal strategies.
By offering a qualitative case study of the legal action to save the building, this article contributes to the knowledge of legal mobilisation in the Nordic countries and to the understandings of disputes over cultural heritage and the right to culture after urban terror. 12Considerable attention has been given to the campaign against the demolition of the H and Y Blocks, 13 but the sociolegal aspects of this resistance have not yet been unpacked.My ambition is to bridge this knowledge gap 14 by exploring how the Y-Block became a monument of national value because of broad-based social movement resistance.Y emerged as an 'unintentional monument' which, unlike intentional monuments whose commemorative value is determined by their makers, has gained commemorative value arising through civic engagement 15 Its monumentalisation continued after the demolition, with the now absent Y becoming part of the iconic imaginary bound up with July 22.I argue that this value developed despite, or partly because of, the highly visible failure of the legal mobilisation strategy.Here I focus on the objections to the government's complex national zoning plan (hereinafter 'zoning plan') for the project and the demolition of the Y-Block, which culminated in the Oslo District Court case in March 2020, exploring three legal arguments, or tactics, which developed over time.I suggest that while these were unsuccessful individually, they helped create the symbolic value of the Y: . The petitioners claimed that a cultural heritage protection process had been illegitimately halted by the terror attack and that the lack of formal cancellation meant that the process had not ended. .With reference to international norms and policy support from transnational networks, the petitioners argued that international legal obligations had been violated and the views of international communities of experts had been given insufficient consideration. .In the end, activists and expert communities concluded that they had 'mobilised into dead ends' where there was never any possibility of success.However, what might be seen as miscalculations around structures of opportunity gradually turned into contestations over the legitimacy of the legal and bureaucratic process.This resulted not only in claims that the outcome was 'wrong' but also that the process was deeply flawed, co-opted and undemocratic. 16 develop the case study, I draw on a range of qualitative primary and secondary sources.Data collection for the article was greatly hampered by the outbreak of Covid-19 and the subsequent Norwegian lockdown.To mitigate this problem, I developed a textual archive consisting of the copious material available on the regulations and administrative processes relating to the reconstruction of the government buildings on government websites: legal documents relating to the court process; the documentation of events and collected written material posted by activists on the curated website 'yblokka.no';17and the media coverage of the campaign to preserve the Y, including the public debate.All translations from Norwegian language sources are my own.I also draw on my field notes from an open meeting about it in January 2020, parts of the YouTube recording of the court case in March 2020, and interviews with stakeholders in spring 2020. 18Feedback on a Norwegian-language paper about the legal mobilisation to protect the Y-Block that I presented to the National Trust of Norway in 2021 has also been useful.Finally, in terms of secondary sources, this article draws on Norwegianlanguage and international literature dealing with 22 July and cultural heritage, and literature on legal mobilisation and urban studies.The article has three parts: I describe the context of the legal mobilisation, examine the three legal arguments put forward to preserve the Y, and conclude by reflecting on the findings.

Situating the Legal Mobilisation Against the Demolition of the Y Block
This article understands the legal mobilisation to preserve the Y-Block both as a struggle against the 'megaproject' designation of the government buildings and as a strategy to protect a post-terror cultural heritage monument.I situate this mobilisation in three overlapping areas and literatures: citizen resistance to megaprojects; the legalisation (in the sense of expanding legal regulation) of cultural heritage destruction after terror and violence; and the legal mobilisation of activist and expert communities in disputes over urban spaces.The article is unique in that it applies an empirical focus to a case of mass-casualty urban terror in a Nordic welfare state; it nonetheless aims to contribute to cultural heritage studies, critical terrorism studies, and urban studies (including legal geography), and to broader discussions about social justice and disputed post-terror reconstruction processes.
Scheduled to be completed in 2030 at an estimated cost of nearly 50 billion Norwegian kroner, 19 the new seat of government is best described as a 'megaproject', 20 as the construction of a huge and complex edifice which requires enormous investment, involves a multitude of public and private partners, takes many years to complete, and has great symbolic significance. 21Politicians and urban planners the world over understand major urban investments as essential to support economic growth and gain political and cultural clout.However, the desirability of such projects is frequently contested, particularly in democratic political contexts, because of their impact on the human right to public space and human rights in public space.Objections concern cost, the use of scarce metropolitan land, and perceived threats to local quality of life caused by the demolition of neighbourhoods and the displacement of residents.Facilitating citizen participation to gain legitimacy for planning, zoning, and construction processes may result in protracted legal battles, making such projects harder to complete and incurring considerable financial costs. 22Large-scale urban terror attacks are not infrequent, but megaprojects seldom feature in post-terror urban reconstruction. 23Framing the Oslo government complex as a megaproject illuminates the logic underpinning the regulatory process, as well as the democratic justice sensibilities animating the resistance to demolition.
Recent years have seen considerable normative and policy attention to the role of terror attacks against cultural heritage sites and the gradual criminalisation of such attacks under international law.The 2001 General Assembly Resolution on the Destruction of Relics and Monuments in Afghanistan24 was followed by the UNESCO Declaration concerning the Intentional Destruction of Cultural Heritage in 2003. 25In 2004, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe noted that culture and its manifestations were ' … increasingly the target of terrorism'.In its resolution on saving the cultural heritage of Iraq, the UN General Assembly observed: 'attacks on cultural heritage are used as a tactic of war in order to spread terror and hatred.' 26 Recently, the International Criminal Court has issued a 'Policy on cultural heritage', noting that 'Crimes against or affecting cultural heritage have an impact on our shared sense of humanity and the daily lives of local populations'.It also states that ' … the degradation and destruction of cultural heritagewhether tangible or intangibleconstitutes a loss to the affected communities, as well as to the international community as a whole'. 27This article adds to the growing academic literature on cultural heritage terrorism by the Taliban, Islamic State, and others by providing perspectives on cultural heritage destruction by right-wing terrorism in the so-called Global North. 28It also extends the focus on legalisation from criminalisation to citizens' legal mobilisation, providing a more nuanced understanding of the uses of law and the growing recognition of cultural heritage as a human rights issue.
Finally, the article examines a community of experts acting as concerned citizens against what they see as illegitimate exclusionary or top-down technocratic planning processes or urban planning that otherwise lacks legitimacy. 29It considers the legal framing the conscious and explicit use of the law to understand events 30 of what I call the right to cultural heritage after terror.Legal mobilisation means the explicit application of the law by invoking formal institutional mechanisms. 31The term encompasses actions ranging from strategic litigation before the courts to a wider repertoire of actions taken by individuals and groups that rely on legal institutions, standards, discourses, and symbols to submit claims or seek social change.To unpack the use of law to resist the demolition of the Y-Bloc, I rely on concepts of framing, resources, and political and legal opportunity structures.Frames describe the construction of meaningsin particular, those allowing people to see their own situation, or a political process, as an injustice. 32I am particularly interested in how the petitioners framed their grievances, claims, and justifications in court.In the case of the Y-Block, the litigants had considerable financial and professional resources.However, in addition to capital, capacity, and expertise, political and legal opportunity structures were needed for them to be successful.A political opportunity structure is a political context which motivates citizens and leads them to think the system can be challenged and that it is possible to succeed through mobilising. 33Achieving one's goals by engaging with the political opportunity structure requires political consciousness and an ability to organise.In terms of legal opportunity structures, Norway has a relatively low threshold for accessing courts.It is also a jurisdiction where human rights language and rights-based approaches to governance retain significant political and cultural purchase. 34For the litigants, the law was a central space of opportunity: for resolving a dispute, and for communicating their demands to a national and international audience.The legal room for manoeuvre dwindled, however, and eventually, the opportunity structure for halting the demolition of Y-Block was exhausted.This mobilisation had some similarities to the strategies of NIMBYism ('not in my backyard'), where urban elites deploy legal discourses and rights claims not against dispossession or displacement, but to legitimise their view of the city, 35 what Centner has called ' … the right kind of city'. 36I will argue, though, that the exceptional nature of the context, the uncompromising approach of the state, and the intensive use of administrative and legal paths for citizen participation and expert deliberationpathways bearing the hallmarks of the Nordic welfare stateturned the campaign for the Y into an iconic democratic exercise and helped establish cultural heritage as a collective human rights issue.

Case Study
Context: the ability to mobilise resources and expert communities Demolition and rebuilding in the government quarter began immediately after the attack in 2011.In 2014, citing security and efficiency considerations, the government decided that almost all ministries were to be located there.Preservation of the Y-Block was never seriously considered; its demolition was taken for granted in the concept development study in 2013 and 2014 and explicitly required for participation in the competition in 2015 and 2016 when architectural firms were invited to submit concepts and detailed proposals for the new government complex.The government zoning plan ('Statlig reguleringsplan') was circulated for public discussion in 2016.Despite numerous objections from the public, it was adopted in 2017 and the competition winner was announced.This was controversial because the winner was accused of possessing inside information through being involved in developing the zoning plan.Despite widespread doubts about the transparency and fairness of the competition, the redevelopment process continued. 37he mobilisation to save the Y began as a Facebook group in 2014 and became the Y-Block campaign, organised by resourceful activists supported by the National Trust of Norway.It succeeded in attracting considerable public attention through activities such as demonstrations, the collection of 22,000 signatures, torchlight processions, social media outreach, media contributions, conferences, open meetings, museum and gallery exhibitions, and well-publicised books chronicling the campaign through photographs.All this is well documented by a curated website in Norwegian and English which offers a timeline, an inventory of documentation, and footage of the Y-Block and campaign activity.Campaigners also engaged in savvy political lobbying, contacting all parliamentarians, and conducting numerous meetings with municipal, regional, and national politicians.This article focuses on a small part of this activity: the legal strategies and specific legal arguments relating to cultural heritage and urban planning authorities, bureaucrats, politicians, and courts.The Norwegian political system provides various channels, including digital ones, for public participation and the involvement of expert communities and civil society in decision-making processes.The campaign contributed as a key stakeholder to the public debate by participating in public consultations, and to the government's complex regulation process by submitting complaints and appeals.
A notable aspect of this mobilisation was its ability to call on experts over an extended period, in addition to the work of key individuals who built coalitions, lobbied, and participated in public debate.The mobilisation of experts meant there was support from influential individuals working for the state and government agencies.In the lengthy process of securing permission to demolish the Y, it was clear that, while the responsible agencies did not have the authority to refuse such permissionit was legalthey had little wish to acquiesce to demolition and repeatedly asked the government to reconsider.In 2015, Oslo's director for cultural heritage (byantikvaren) asked the government to explore other alternatives. 38In 2018, 15 directors for cultural heritage from across Norway published an op-ed supporting the preservation of Y, arguing that the democratic welfare system set up after the war was based on everyone's right to participate; these values were expressed through construction processes which symbolised the reconstruction of modern Norway.The government complex was ' … the most important building in this project, it represents our shared history and constitutes us as a nation', and this symbolic power was reinforced by the 22 July attack: 'The building will forever be inextricably linked to the values the terrorist could not demolish … What happens here impacts everyone in Norway, the Y-Block is ours too!' 39 In 2019, the Y-Block campaign sought legal assistance.Simultaneously, with considerable and publicly expressed misgivings, the Agency for Urban Development and Planning in the City of Oslo gave the government permission to demolish the Y.Its director said: 'It is no secret that we wanted to preserve the Y-Block but the regulatory framework is clear: we have to give permission because demolition has been decided by the centrally prepared zoning plan.' 40 Once permission was granted, an appeal was sent to the county governor of the Department of Akershus by the National Association of Norwegian Architects (NAL), its Oslo Branch, the National Trust of Norway, and the Campaign to Save the Y-Block.While the county governor felt she had no legal basis for admitting the complaints, she asked the government to reconsider the demolition. 41In March 2020, the director for national heritage declined to issue an injunction for the temporary protection of the Y due to the lack of legal basis but stated publicly that demolishing it would be the greatest loss of cultural heritage in Norway since 1945. 42Support also came from agencies outside the field of cultural heritage: in January 2020, the Parliamentary Ombudsman for Scrutiny of Public Administration (Sivilombudet) declined to process a petition by the National Trust and others to stop demolition but said that this in no way meant the Ombudsman defended or concurred with the government's plans or handling of the matter.Extraordinarily, the Ombudsman also opined that this was a case ' … better suited to a court hearing'. 43n spring 2020, with funding from a private donor, 44 the Association of Norwegian Architects and the National Trust of Norway brought the case before the courts.Suing the Ministry of Local Government and Regional Development, the petitioners argued that the general permission for demolition was void because the zoning plan was invalid.The Government had not considered its obligations under the Planning and Building Act § 3-1 (4), which stated that zoning plans should facilitate the implementation of international conventions.These were primarily the International Convention for Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR), and the 2005 Faro Convention on cultural heritage.Activists also requested a temporary injunction against demolition until the case had been decided in the courts.The campaign for the preservation of the Y-Block and the Oslo Association of Architects contributed written submissions ' … to highlight the public interest'.The District Court upheld the Norwegian state's claim. 45The appeal was scheduled to come before the Borgarting Court of Appeal at the end of August 2020.In June 2020, a majority in the Norwegian Parliament, the Storting, rejected a 'doc.8' representative proposal to postpone demolition until the case had been heard by the Courts of Appeal. 46The appeal was then withdrawn, and the Y was demolished that autumn.I will now examine three legal arguments in further detail, considering the way they co-constituted an understanding of the Y as an icon of national heritage.

Preservation disrupted: non-legalist tactics and formal protection deficits
While no formal decision was made, before 2011 government agencies and cultural heritage actors had agreed that the Y should be categorised as cultural heritage property.In a letter of 4 June 2012, the Ministry of Modernisation, Administration and Church Affairs (FAD) said the Y-Block had been considered for cultural heritage protection but that consideration had to be paused after 22 July until there was clarification regarding the development of the new government complex. 47There had been no formal decision to either award cultural heritage status or terminate the process.Taking this disrupted preservation procedure as their starting point, in court, the petitioners presented a threepronged argument on the status of the Y: they contended that the heritage value of the buildings had not been reduced but rather reinforced by the terror attack; that its present status remained undetermined and/or that it had attained the status of non-statutory/unlisted world heritage; and that the government had neglected its duty of care with respect to timely interventions.
The first claim is that the terror attack did not decrease the heritage value of the Y-Block but increased this value despite some material destruction.The first Cultural Heritage Act (Kulturminneloven), aiming to protect heritage as part of our cultural heritage and identity, was passed in 1905; the current legislation dates from 1978 48 In 2006, because of issues with the maintenance of state-owned properties, and because few stateowned buildings had cultural heritage status, a royal decree obliged the government to produce an inventory of its property portfolio and protect buildings with cultural heritage value. 49The 2010 National Protection Plan (Landsvernplanen) listed buildings in the government complex with cultural heritage value, including the H-Block and the Y-Block.In accordance with the plan, the Y-Block was assigned the most important protection category. 50Between 2008 and 2011, the government complex was designated as a separate sub-plan as regards the national protection plan for the government's cultural heritage property.In June 2011, the plan was forwarded to the Directorate for Cultural Heritage for processing, in accordance with the Cultural Heritage Act § 22a.After 22 July, the conservation process was halted, in the absence of a technical assessment of the damaged buildings, and never re-started.
As is often observed, this area in central Oslo had been the subject of conflicts between urban planners, commercial and government interests, and cultural heritage activists and practitioners since the late 1800s.In the 1950s, before construction of the H-and Y-Blocks started, the government and the municipality clashed with public opinion and cultural heritage authorities over the demolition of buildings to make room for them.As noted in the Statsbygg report of December 2011, the various buildings in the government quarter form a puzzle of pieces from different periods. 51The justification for protection is largely based on the overall coherence of the area (kulturmiljøet) and how each new development represents a different period in Norwegian history.In December 2011, the director for cultural heritage said that ' … as comprehensively as any history book, the government complex tells the story of the development of the Norwegian welfare state from its modest pre-industrial beginnings to its current state as one of the world's richest countries'. 52The government has said that the H-Block is seen as a natural carrier of symbolism, through its architecture and history, and that its importance was reinforced by being the object of a terror attack. 53Y-Block supporters attribute to it the same value; influential Oslo city planner Ellen de Vibe, for example, has called the Y the ' … physical memorial of the welfare state'.Thus, the accumulated architectural, historical, and symbolic values relating to 22 July give the government buildings heritage valueas cultural heritage and as a crime scene.In the district court's decision, the petitioners were quoted as saying that the Y-Block was scheduled to be protected before 22 July 2011 and that its cultural heritage value had ' … not been reduced after this and that this should have been given consideration when deciding on demolition'. 54he second argument concerned a claim that the status of the Y-Block was either undetermined in national law or was 'de facto' protected.The zoning plan suggested that the cultural heritage value of the government complex and its historical continuity as a whole could be adequately protected by preserving some buildings, including the H-Block. 55It was noted that these buildings were scheduled for preservation before the attack and that after it, in the administrative process and in terms of building maintenance, they were treated as protected cultural heritage.The county governor observed that this could be interpreted as meaning that, after the adoption of the zoning plan, the buildings assigned heritage value (verneverdi) in the 2011 National Protection Plan should be treated as if they had protected status, but that this was not the intention of the ministry. 56The governor's statement suggests that the claim had traction and salience.In their submissions to the District Court, the petitioners argued that this meant the state had certain obligations, even if it was not bound to complete the cultural heritage preservation plan.The court, however, ruled that the fact of having cultural heritage value did not confer cultural heritage status.The attorney general of Norway disputed the idea of a neglected duty of intervention and argued that the protection of the Y-Block had been paused because the adoption of the zoning plan in 2017 formally ended it. 57,58The court eventually agreed with this view.
The petitioners also put forward the related argument that the Y-Block had de facto cultural heritage status.This idea emerged soon after the zoning plan was first circulated.In a letter to the Municipality of Oslo in 2016, the National Trust of Norway argued that the protection of the Y-Block had a solid formal, normative basisnot only because of the 2006 royal decree and the 2011 National Protection Plan but also because of important cultural heritage institutions and mechanisms.The cultural heritage NGO Europa Nostra featured the Y-Block on its 'The 7 Most Endangered 2020' list, selected by an international expert committee from a shortlist of the 14 most endangered cultural heritage monuments in Europe.The Y-Block was also listed on the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS) International Heritage Alert in September 2016 and was made the 'cultural heritage monument' of the month in May 2016 by the Twentieth Century Society, a British charity. 59As described below, petitioners also argued that the Y-Block was a 'non-statutory' world heritage.
The third argument involved claims about a neglected duty of care: the petitioners argued that the considerations underpinning the preservation proposal and the intrinsic value of the Y-Block itself imposed obligations on the state, although they agreed that the state was not obliged to complete the protection process.In 2019, although eventually it assented to the demolition application, Oslo's Agency for Planning and Building Services qualified its assent with strong criticisms.The Agency declared that it supported the expert opinions of national and international architectural and cultural heritage institutions, that flattening the Y-Block would be a 'historical mistake', and that the building had internationally recognised architectural and cultural heritage value, which meant there was a responsibility of care. 60In 2020, a group of actors filed a complaint to the governor (Statsforvalter), arguing that cultural heritage considerations had been insufficiently balanced against security considerations.They also claimed that there had been no adequate exploration of alternatives (konsekvensutredning), whereby the Y-Block could be preserved with improved security and internal modernisation.The complainants suggested that the Parliament and the government had insufficient grounds for making decisions about demolition. 61In the summons to the District Court, the petitioners argued that the only remaining obstacle to statutory protection was a formal decision from the Directorate of Cultural Heritage and that ' … by putting the final secondment of the case to the Directorate for Cultural Heritage on hold, the government has failed in its duty of care'. 62

International norms and transnational networks
The second line of argument concerned international legal obligations.To support the claim that the zoning plan was void, the petitioners argued that the state had failed to fulfil its international human rights obligations.The legal basis for this claim was the Planning and Building Act § 3-1 (4), which states that 'Plans shall contribute to the implementation of international conventions and treaties within the scope of the Act'.This paragraph provided guidance on the importance of regulatory objectives and was relevant to the interpretation and implementation of other regulations in the Act.In their submission, the petitioners suggested that § 3-1 (4) was a defence against decisions directly contravening international legal obligations, in particular ICESCR article 15, on the right to culture, and the 2005 Faro Convention. 63They argued that international law set out specific obligations regarding cultural heritage property and that international norms co-constituted the Y as an exceptional object of value.
The ICESCR was ratified by Norway in 1972 and incorporated into the Human Rights Act in 1999.According to Article 15 (a), the states parties to the Covenant recognise the right of everyone to take part in cultural life.With a contextual interpretation, the petitioners argued that the content of Article 15 is not symbolic but should be interpreted in the light of the Faro Convention, under which the states parties recognise ' … individual and collective responsibility for cultural heritage'.The petitioners also referenced the 1985 Convention for the Protection of the Architectural Heritage of Europe (the Granada Convention), signed and ratified by Norway; according to its article 3, each party undertakes ' … to take statutory measures to protect the architectural heritage' and ' … within the framework of such measures and by means specific to each State or region, to make provision for the protection of monuments, groups of buildings and sites', while article 10 stipulates the adoption of ' … integrated conservation policies'.Although the petitioners recognised that ICESCR article 15 did not determine the particular steps the state must take, they invoked the 1972 UNESCO World Heritage Convention to argue that states are under a general obligation to prioritise resources for effective protection.The petitioners maintained that Y-Block was 'non-statutory' world heritage, citing articles 11 and 12, which declare that the world heritage inventory is not exhaustive and that not being included in it ' … shall in no way be construed to mean a site does not have outstanding universal value for purposes other than those of listed sites'.
As noted above, the petitioners also presented a reference to ICOMOS, an advisory council of UNESCO and an important player in global heritage protection.In the 'international heritage alert' it issued in 2016, ICOMOS argued that the demolition of the Y could lead to a ' … loss of international heritage'. 64In submissions to the district court, citing international norms and policy support from transnational networks, the petitioners argued that international legal obligations had been violated and that the views of international communities of experts were given insufficient consideration.The petitioners declared that ' … it cannot be excluded that the building has a global value as "outstanding universal value" and belongs to "international cultural heritage" '. 65 This argument failed for legal reasons: according to the state, material restrictions on the authority to decide on planning and building could not be limited either under the Planning and Building Act § 3-1 (4) or under international conventions.In neither the wording of the Conventions referred to nor in current legal practice is there any support for these claims. 66The court supported this interpretation, finding that it was sufficient that cultural heritage had been considered: no explicit reference to international legal instruments was required.The court noted that it was immaterial that the Planning and Building Act § 3-1 (4) did not explicitly refer to the ICESCR and agreed with the petitioner that this convention constituted a basis for cultural heritage protection and was relevant to the Planning and Building Act.However, the court disagreed with the petitioner's interpretation of ICESCR article 15, saying that the state must establish systems and arrangements that consider and protect cultural heritage but need not protect specific buildings.Furthermore, article 15 does not constitute a barrier to administrative decisions about demolition; if cultural heritage has been considered, that is sufficient.
The argument also failed due to the slippage between the law and other forms of expertise.While this dispute involves different perspectives on the weight of international law and the obligations it imposes, another element consists of divergences between knowledge regimes, i.e. what constitutes an appropriate legal source to determine the legality of demolishing the Y-Block as against what is merely a relevant political argument.In the petitioners' submission, the focus was on cultural heritage and art as public goods, and the value set on the Y-Block and its art by important transnational networks.However, while persuasive in the cultural heritage context, such arguments, the actors in question and the type of mechanisms referred to have less value seen from a legal perspective, which did not consider architectural values or cultural heritage governance bodies relevant.The listed instruments could (controversially) be considered 'soft' forms of soft law.
The dead end of mobilisation: from bad outcomes to undemocratic process Eventually, activists and expert communities concluded that they had ' … mobilized into dead ends', for the state had employed participation as a diversionary tactic and there had never been any possibility of success.Miscalculations of opportunity structures gradually turned into contestations over the legitimacy of the legal and bureaucratic process.Activists claimed that there had been a 'wrong' outcome and that the process was deeply flawed and undemocratic: rights to the Y-Block as a public space had been denied and, by turning the formal process into a token exercise, the state had prevented the meaningful exercise of human rights in that space.Juxtaposed with the promise of ' … more democracy and more openness', these claims about process and outcome have become part of the Y narrative.At the time of writing, b years after the demolition of the Y-Block, those who tried to preserve it said they believed that all their efforts had gone towards a process whose conclusion was already decided.Politicians, legal actors, bureaucrats, pundits, scholars, civil society, and survivors have constantly reiterated that democracy and transparency are core Norwegian values after 22 July.In the processes relating to the Y-Block, the parties strongly disagree on whether 'democracy and transparency' had been practised as preached and about what genuine public participation actually is.
While participation is a key value of Norwegian democracy, one of the main complaints from activists and cultural heritage stakeholders is that genuine participation in the regulatory process was impossible because the government set the conditions for the new government quarter before the zoning process started.According to the attorney general, this case was about political decisions, not legal considerations: the decision could not be overruled by the courts. 67The activists insisted that the Parliament had more room for manoeuvre than 'a minute's silence', 68 yet the attorney general declared that the case was 'not debatable', as all appeal opportunities had been exhausted and the parliamentary ombudsman had been heard.For the conservation advocates, it is clear that there was never any real opportunity to appeal the demolition of the Y-Block.According to the state, participation in the process had been excellent in terms of procedural guarantees for submissions, consultations, and user participation, with many exhibitions, public debates, evaluations, and possibilities for input. 69The zoning plan was well-crafted and had been extensively debated, and the decision to demolish the Y-Block was democratic and well-founded. 70All user groups had been involved in the process, there had been numerous open meetings, and stakeholders had been invited to give their opinions. 71The government report (Stortingsmelding) noted that 67 20-041571TVI-OTIR/04 (n 45). 68 stakeholders had voiced their ' … scepticism through petitions and op eds', including 180 submissions that were received for the consultations for the zoning plan.Of those 180, 150 were against the demolition of the Y-Block. 72In short, there had been ample opportunities for participation.
Critics said Statsbygg had not been ' … listening to anyone,' 73 that the planning process was flawed, and that there was no real participation.One interviewee said that the state operated as if ' … the democratic process could be dealt with later,' 74 and the process thus became depoliticised: Parliament was presented with a plan and gave its consent.The zoning plan was seen as particularly problematic because it blocked all pathways to a legal solution.The 2013 Concept Evaluation Committee report (KVU) described preservation as possible but did not elaborate further.On this basis, the planning went ahead.According to the activists, the demolition of Y-Block was not decided by the adoption of the zoning plan in 2017, and nor did the early adoption of co-localisation determine this outcome.Instead, a secretive matrix of security considerations, bureaucratic governance logic, and institutional interests seems to have propelled the process forward.
In 2011, Statsbygg had already argued that using a national rather than municipal zoning plan would accelerate the process and reduce the risk of a result not desired by the state. 75In its verdict, the Court emphasised that a ' … national zoning plan is rarely used and should be utilised with care'.In practice, this meant normal procedure was followed in the planning process but with the state, represented by the Ministry of Environment, instead of the City of Oslo as the lead actor/manager.The City's only formal role was as a consultation body.The government's project model set requirements for methodology and quality in major public investments: a KVU must be created and be the basis for the government's decision on the choice of concept for a given area.The KVU and subsequent external quality assurance (KS1) govern the rest of the planning process. 76To opponents of the demolition of the Y, it appears that the KVU, a financial regulatory tool, was also used to pre-empt urban planning and cultural heritage protection processes before the authorities concerned had been allowed to give meaningful input, and before questions about national cultural heritage regarding the government complex had been agreed on.Such political decision-making could not be appealed but merely paved the way for the zoning process and architectural competition.These decisions were subsequently included in the zoning plan.
While the Planning and Building Act indicates that project development takes place during the planning process, to provide a knowledge base for subsequent political decisions, this pre-emptive 'closure' only became obvious to experts and activists much later.Significantly, the 2015 architectural competition was only open to proposals accepting the precondition that the Y-Block was to be demolished.One of the actors told me: 'The bureaucrats seized at the possibility of making something new.' 77 Another said, We pretend that this is a legal and contestable process, but it was an already-decided political process and we used resources to mobilize into blind alleys.The complete disregard for the expert authorities (fagmyndigheter) was the most alarming aspect of this process. 78is tension is also addressed in the District Court verdict, which observed: 'How far the state can move in the direction of predetermining the premises for planning processes is an interesting question.' 79 The legal mobilisation to save the Y-Block thus took on a demobilising and de-politicising character: resources, time, and personal efforts were channelled into forms of legal mobilisation where the system was not open to challenge and the political opportunity structures had closed almost immediately after the 2011 attack.It is unclear whether there were any alternatives, for other factions of the movement to save the Y-Block embraced social movement tactics, including civil disobedience, without any notable success.Activists were enraged about the decision to demolish the Y during the pandemic: 'The state is building a house that nobody wants at a time when we cannot protest.' 80 After the demolition, one commentator said: This time-consuming process has illustrated that decisions are difficult to influence, the supporters of the Y-Block seem to have had no impact or influence over the process.This gives the Y-Block new symbolic significance as a monument to governmental overreach and power politics.The planning process has been protracted but very few alterations and modifications have been made along the way. 81

Conclusion
By discussing aspects of the legal struggle to save the Y-Block, this article has explored how a lengthy legal mobilisation campaign made it an iconic monument.I unpacked the dispute over the demolition of the damaged government buildings and the place of human rights and cultural heritage discourses in the process, examining how narratives of legal resistance helped create the Y-Block's symbolic value.These narratives included the suggestion that a cultural heritage protection process which had been halted by the attack had never formally ended; references to international norms and transnational policy support to claim that international legal obligations had been violated and attempts to use transnational networks of experts to provide the moral basis for seeing the Y-Block as an object of international value; and contestations over process legitimacy, whereby the activists and expert communities concluded that they had ' … mobilized into blind alleys' where there was never any possibility of success.
This article contributes to knowledge on cultural heritage, human rights, and legal mobilisation in the Nordic context and beyond in three ways: it provides a case study of how megaprojects are contested because of their impact on the human right to public space and human rights in public space.Physically and symbolically the Y-Block represented an accessible and democratic public space, while plans for the new seat of government involve constructing a securitised fortress with total surveillance of publicly accessible space.The article also expands the focus on the legalisation of cultural heritage destruction, from the criminalisation of perpetrators to citizens' legal 78 Interview with Siri Hoem, on file with author. 79Ibid. 80Interview with name withheld (2), on file with author. 81Danbolt (n 52).
mobilisation, enabling a more nuanced understanding of the uses of law and the growing recognition of cultural heritage as a human rights issue.Finally, I argue that legal resistance to cultural heritage demolition helps reinforce cultural heritage as a collective human rights issue outside the purview of specialists and cultural elites.
Central to this article is the narrative of how, after 2011, the Y-Block emerged as an accidental cultural heritage monument.I have argued that its demolition in 2020 made the Y and the mobilisation to save it indistinguishable from each other.As part of a wider mobilisation, through legal action and the resistance of activists, academics, experts, and state agencies, the Y-Block became a form of non-embodied iconic heritage.In autumn 2022, one commentator on urban development and cultural heritage declared that although the campaign to preserve the Y-Block failed, its martyrdom was not in vain that it was a lost battle that led to a broader victory. 82Documenting this legacy of the Y-Block campaign also contributes to its future status.
Urban Middle Classes in Argentina, Brazil and Turkey' in Tony Samara, Shenjing He and Guo Chen (eds), Locating Right to the City in the Global South (Routledge 2013).