He may be seen as one of the baddies of Irish history thanks to the Battle of Clontarf, but Silkenbeard built Dublin into a rich, thriving, cosmopolitan European city, writes Dr Niamh Wycherley, from the Department of Early Irish (Sean-Ghaeilge). 

    Easter is always a good time (for a medieval historian anyway) to reflect on the majesty of Sitric Silkenbeard, King of Dublin. It was, according to later sources, on Good Friday 1014, that Sitric (aka Sitriuc Silkbeard or Sigtryggr Ólafsson Silkiskeggi in Old Norse) cemented his reputation as one of the baddies of Irish history due to his (lack of) performance at the Battle of Clontarf.

    According to the epic saga, Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh (the War of the Irish against the Foreigners), Brian Boru and his Killaloe dynasty of the Dál Cais defeated Sitric's Dublin-based viking army. This literary extravaganza is populated by fearsome Scandinavians coming to take our women and our land. Unlike the heroic Munstermen - one of whom who is explicitly described as an Irish Hector of Trojan War fame, wielding a sword in each hand as he defends Ireland - Sitric is depicted cowering within the dún of Dublin.

    In reality, Sitric was 'Irish' born and bred. Brian Boru was both his father-in-law and stepfather (a story for another day!) and some of his strongest allies were the Leinstermen, his mother's family, amongst whom he was raised. He was probably just protecting home base, which had previously been burnt by various Irish kings in order to subjugate and subsume the growing economic powerhouse of Dublin.

    Because 1014 later became a tent pole date in Irish nationalistic notions of 'us versus them', it was necessary that the so-called viking Sitric be portrayed as the foreign fraidy-cat foil to Brian Boru’s brave Irish hero. Of course, these binaries are often created by historians and storytellers (both medieval and modern) while real historic events and trends are complex, nuanced, gradual and rarely possible to recreate with objective accuracy.

    It was, in fact, in an article about Christmas in medieval Ireland that I first cast my vote for Sitric as top Dubliner of all time. The worst, and the most amusing, of my procrastinations when I am supposed to be correcting student essays is to imagine and cast a hypothetical movie on the Battle of Clontarf, in which some much loved Dubliner like Colin Farrell, or a younger talent like Maynooth's own Paul Mescal provide a sympathetic performance of Sitric as a misunderstood Irish historical character.

    Although I do not want to be advocating for the inclusion of more ‘Great Men’ into our histories (Sitric’s Leinster princess mother Gormlaith is long overdue a rehabilitation from modern scholars), I am surprised at the lack of a Sitric statue in Dublin. This is especially noteworthy given how taken we are with our viking past, as evidenced by all the excellent tourist attractions and the inspiring role of Sitric in many of these enterprises.

    Sitric ruled Dublin for over four decades, until he seemingly abdicated in 1036. From the late 990s onwards, he built Dublin into a cosmopolitan, rich, thriving, 'European' city. Following the example of English kings such as Aethelred the Unready, Sitric minted the first coins in Ireland. A public statement of his sophistication and authority, these silver pennies were inscribed with SIHTRIC REX DYFLINN (Sitric, King of Dublin), and featured both a typical profile of a (beardless) king and a Christian cross.

    On his way home from a high profile pilgrimage to Rome in 1028, Sitric visited the great city of Cologne and apparently founded Christ Church Cathedral back in Dublin in its image. An architectural stunner, Christ Church soon became one of the most powerful churches in Ireland.

    While all men like Sitric are necessarily nepo babies, given the fundamental nature of how aristocracies operate, he was not just handed a kingdom to rule without opposition. His father Amlaíb (Ólaf) had his cap set at the royal seat of Tara, but after a definitive defeat by Máel Sechnaill mac Domnaill, supposed High King, at the Battle of Tara in 980, he retired in pilgrimage to the monastery of Iona, off the west coast of Scotland.

    It took Sitric many years - and the convenient death of his older half-brother Glún Iarainn - to consolidate his position as King of Dublin. When Brian Boru had the audacity to march through Ireland demanding and negotiating his own position as ‘Emperor of the Irish’, Sitric repeatedly refused to submit to him, resulting in the Battle of Clontarf and many other clashes besides.

    For me, Sitric exemplifies the multicultural nature of Irish medieval society and, indeed, of Dublin and Ireland today. He was last of the great dynasty of the Uí Ímarr, descendants of influential Scandinavian King Ivar, who was active in the Irish Sea region in the second half of the ninth century. This Ivar was possibly the same Ivar who led the famous 'Great Viking Army' in Britain in 865 and who is mythologised in later medieval sagas and modern tv shows as 'Ivar the Boneless'.

    Ivar's descendants dominated rule of Dublin for the guts of two centuries, give or take a few coups, lost battles, assassinations and periods in exile. By the time Sitric was born, it is difficult to discern any clear ethnicities or identities for these rulers. While many scholars are generally tolerant with the use of term 'viking’, the cultivated, and Christian, Sitric has little in common with the men who raided and terrorised island monasteries 200 years earlier. He likely spoke both Irish, Norse and potentially Latin and English, and may never have stepped foot in Scandinavia.

    Instead of viking or Scandinavian, should we use instead Hiberno-Norse? Scandi-Irish? Norse-Irish? The lack of agreement from academics indicates there is much work to be done on understanding Irish identity, and that the boxes we try to squeeze people into, whether today or in the past, are not always fitting or necessary. Nevertheless, King Sitric, immortalised by the great Howth pub, was a Dubliner above all else.

    ​This piece originally appeared on RTÉ Brainstorm.