A Viking’s Name in İstanbul, in Constantinople or in Miklagard

You can stand inside Hagia Sophia today, in Istanbul, and read the name of a Viking who lived more than a thousand years ago. Not in a museum label. Not in a book.

Carved directly into the marble.

Hagia Sophia Is Not One Story

Hagia Sophia has never belonged to a single moment in history. Built in the sixth century as the main imperial church of the Byzantine Empire, it later became a mosque, then a museum, and today functions again as a mosque. Each transformation added a layer. Very little was fully erased.

This is why the building feels different from most historical monuments. It does not tell one story. It holds many at the same time.

Christian mosaics and Islamic calligraphy share the same walls. Marble floors carry the marks of centuries of movement. And in one quiet corner, a name from the far north remains.

What the Name Ayasofya Means

“Ayasofya” is not a person’s name.

The word comes from the Greek Hagia Sophia and means Holy Wisdom, or more precisely, Divine Wisdom. It does not refer to a saint or a historical figure. From the beginning, the building was named after an idea, not an individual. Its name pointed outward, toward wisdom itself rather than any single human life.

This is easy to miss today, especially when we are used to buildings being named after rulers, patrons, or religious figures.

And yet, among all these layers, one ordinary human gesture remains visible.

A name.

When Vikings Came to the Great City

For the Vikings, Constantinople was not Constantinople. They called it Miklagard, “the Great City.”

This was not an exaggeration. It was a description.

From the ninth to the tenth century, Scandinavian travelers reached the city through river routes connecting the Baltic to the Black Sea. Some came as traders. Others came as mercenaries. The city was wealthy, orderly, and heavily fortified. It was not a place to raid. It was a place to work.

Many Vikings entered Byzantine service as members of the Varangian Guard, an elite unit responsible for protecting the emperor. They were valued precisely because they were outsiders, loyal to the institution rather than to local factions.

This is how Vikings found themselves inside the most important building of the empire.

The Inscription That Survived by Being Ignored

On the upper gallery of Hagia Sophia, carved into a marble balustrade, are runic letters. For centuries, they were dismissed as cracks or casual scratches in the stone.

Only much later did scholars recognize them as Norse runes.

The most widely accepted reading is simple: “Halvdan was here.” Possibly just “Halvdan.”

No title. No explanation. No claim.

The inscription survived precisely because no one noticed it. Had it been understood earlier, it might have been removed. Instead, it remained untouched. Today, it is protected behind glass, small and easy to miss.

Who Was Halvdan?

We do not know exactly who Halvdan was.

The name was common in the Viking world. He may have been a warrior, an officer, or a guard assigned to ceremonial duty. What matters is not his rank but his presence.

Only certain people had access to the upper galleries of Hagia Sophia. This was not a public area. It was a controlled, imperial space.

Halvdan stood close enough to power and ritual to carve his name there. And in doing so, he left behind one of the most personal traces inside the building.

Presence Without Ownership

Halvdan did not rename the city. He did not claim it. He did not conquer it.

He simply recorded that he had been there.

This matters. Most history is not about conquest. It is about presence. Quiet, everyday presence that leaves traces never meant to last.

The Vikings in Constantinople were part of the system, not outside it. They did not reshape the city. The city reshaped them.

A Building That Holds Memory

Hagia Sophia has survived earthquakes, fires, invasions, and political change because it was repeatedly valued. Each culture that inherited it chose to preserve rather than destroy.

The Viking inscription fits this pattern. It was not protected because it was important.

It became important because it survived.

This is often how history remains visible.

Vocabulary

• Ayasofya → Hagia Sophia

• Konstantinopolis → Constantinople

• Miklagard → “Great City” in Old Norse

• Vareg Muhafızları → Varangian Guard

• yazıt → inscription

• kazımak → to carve, to engrave

• mermer → marble

• korkuluk → balustrade, railing

• katman → layer

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Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Q: What does the name “Ayasofya” actually mean?

A: “Ayasofya” comes from the Greek Hagia Sophia and means Holy Wisdom, or more precisely, Divine Wisdom. It does not refer to a person or a saint. From the beginning, the building was dedicated to an abstract theological concept rather than a human figure.

Q: Is Ayasofya named after Saint Sophia?

A: No. This is a common misconception. Despite the similarity, Ayasofya is not named after a saint. The word "Sophia" here means "wisdom," not a personal name.

Q: Why would a Viking inscription exist inside such a religious building?

A: During the Byzantine period, Hagia Sophia functioned not only as a place of worship but also as a ceremonial and political space. Members of the Varangian Guard, including Vikings in imperial service, had access to its upper galleries. The inscription reflects presence, not ownership or disrespect.

Q: Was Hagia Sophia a church or a mosque when the inscription was carved?

A: At the time the inscription was made, Hagia Sophia was functioning as a Byzantine church. The Viking presence dates to the ninth or tenth century, long before the Ottoman period.

Q: Can visitors today really see the Viking inscription in Ayasofya?

A: Yes. The runic inscription is located on the upper gallery level and is protected behind glass. Look for the marble railings on the upper gallery, near where emperors and sultans once stood. It is small and subtle, which is why many visitors pass by without noticing it unless they know what they are looking for.

What You Are Really Seeing

When you visit Hagia Sophia today, you are not just seeing a monument. You are reading accumulated time.

A Byzantine emperor. An Ottoman sultan. A modern republic. And a Viking who once stood there and wrote his name.

This is why I tell this story to people learning Turkish.

Because understanding Türkiye begins with understanding continuity. Not replacement. Not purity. But layers that remain visible if you know how to look.

And sometimes, history does not speak loudly.

Sometimes, it only says: I was here.