Henrik Ibsen lived abroad almost as long as Peer Gynt – 27 years in all. The dramatist commented while he was working on Peer Gynt - his play about a “citizen of the world” - that he had a particular type of Norwegian in mind: a happy-go-lucky fellow, a cheerful, boastful dreamer.

With Ibsen in mind, I have occasionally thought that there are two lines in foreign policy that should not be played out to the full.

One is the Peer Gynt line: going round about, dodging the issue, demanding exceptions and special measures, being sufficient unto yourself, free-riding on the efforts of others, shifting the blame.

If Peer Gynt had been a foreign policy maker dealing with today’s challenges, he would have embraced globalisation and would have been quite content to be the only pro-EU person in his village, while when in another frame of mind, he would presumably have voted a defiant no to EU membership - depending on the circumstances. Peer would probably have supported the regulation of trade under the WTO – as long as he didn’t lose out, and the rules could be broken, to borrow some insights from an article about Peer Gynt by Norwegian social anthropologist Thomas Hylland Eriksen.

The other foreign policy line is the Brand line – the main character from Ibsen’s play written the year before Peer Gynt: the policy of an isolated and uncompromising zealot, whom many fear but few listen to, preaching to all the world without many followers, being put to the test and digging in his heels to the very last. I have to admit that there is something fascinating about Brand, a man with lofty, demanding ideals that are worth making a sacrifice for in difficult times.

The art of foreign policy, however, involves finding a line somewhere between the two,  somewhere between Peer Gynt and Brand: with strong will, principles and ideals,  but with flexibility, the ability to stop and find solutions that are inclusive and that do not make the divisions deeper.

But in our world we often find that it is the extremes that dominate, those who want to divide the world into “we and they”,  “us and them”,  “good and evil”,  you are either “with us” or you are “against us”. In our world, being able to focus on dialogue, political solutions and the art of compromise is perhaps the most demanding task, and the one that requires the greatest courage.

We, too, have an important task in relation to the rest of the world, as Henrik Ibsen pointed out. While he was abroad, he wrote to King Carl XV that he wanted to “arouse his countrymen out of their lethargy and direct their attention to the great questions of life”, adding that his most important task was to “awaken the people and inspire them to think about the bigger issues.”

We will allow ourselves to be inspired to do just that, to think about the bigger issues.

Foreign policy is about following a fixed course that is clear, recognisable and based on sound values.

Foreign policy is not about taking the path of least resistance, but about attaining high ideals.

Foreign policy is about paving the way for self-realisation, freedom and justice – both in our own country and in our world where there is so much subjection and suppression, also for others.

Like Ibsen, we must dare to ask the important, the most essential questions. If we fail to ask them early enough, we may be forced to answer them when it is too late and the conflict has become irresolvable.