SJF

 

Kurt Tucholsky i Paris 1928  - Foto Wikipedia

E M I G R A N T  T U C H O L S K Y

 4. APRIL, 1936


av Ragnar Vold

En emigrant er død, en av de mange. For et øyeblikk minnes man en fremragende skribent en begavet og inspirerende forkjemper for humanitetens sak. Man husker hans glade latter og hans evne til å gjøre det ryddig og romslig omkring seg. Og så glemmes han vel snart. Han var jo “bare en emigrant”.

Kurt Tucholsky var egentlig ingen kamphingst, men en bunt vibrerende nerver, et følsomt sinn som gremmet seg dødsyk over barbariets triumph. Giftflasken gav ham en lett død, men Molok fikk sitt offer som meningen var. En av de mange.

Når engang den jerntids historie skal skrives, vil beretningene om tragiske emigranstskjebner fylle mange svarte sider. Kanskje vil våre etterkommere undre seg mest over hvor likegyldig den siviliserte verden betraktet emigrantene. Hvor avstumpet menneskene var! vil de si.

Og det er så. Man avstumpes. Man har sitt kjøpmannskap og sin egen lille åker det er så lett å glemme, at 100 000 ulykkelige mennesker lever i sult og fortvilelse i fremmede land, som har mottat den nokså motvillig. Få har fantasi og innfølingsevne nok til å forstå hvilke gripende tragedier det utspilles hver dag blant dem.

Kurt Tucholskys hus i Sverige

Men nå kan det hende at emigrant problemet vil bli et stort materielt spørsmål for mange land at de som ikke lar seg bevege av ideelle beveggrunner bli nødt til å ta standpunkt til det av økonomiske årsaker.

Forleden dag offentliggjorde Folkeforbundet “høykommisær for politiske flyktninger fra Tyskland” den amerikanske professor Hames MacDonald, en redegjørelse for sin virksomhet i de siste to år. Hans beretning som bare ved sitt rent refererende innhold virker som en voldsom anklage, har vakt stor oppsikt. Antakelig fører den til at Folkeforbundet tar emigrantspørsmålet opp til drøftelse på neste rådsmøte, den 20. januar. Det er på høy tid.

Man regner nemlig med en ny masseutvandring fra Tyskland, først og fremst av jøder. Etter vedtagelsen av Nürnberg-lovene har de ikke lenger chancer til å skaffe seg eksistensmuligheter i Tyskland, de fratas statsborgerretten og forvises til et middelsaldersk ghetto. Samtidig sørger nazistene for at de ikke får forlate landet med sin rettsmessige eiendom, så de kan skape seg en ny eksistens utenfor Tyskland. Nabolandene skal ordne med den saken.

Det vil de naturligvis nødig finne seg i. I en ledende artikkel i Times understrekes det at etter Nürnberg-lovene er ikke jødespørsmålet et indre tysk anliggende lenger, det er blitt et folkeforbundsproblem. MacDonald selv foreslår at den tyske flykningehjelpen knyttes til Nansen-byrået og gis forbundets fulle moralske støtte.

Times som finner høykommissærens rapport “opprørede” håper at Tyskland vil la seg påvirke av opinionen og vise seg mer folkelig overfor jødene. Men det har vist seg ofte nok at rene stemningsbølger ikke over noen synderlig påvirking på nazistene. Den store antydede prosess ved Haag domstolen om berettigele av nazistenes tilbakeholdelse eller konfiskasjon av ikke-nazistiske former ville kanskje øve et sterke press.

Kurt Tucholsky 1931 Foto:wikipedia

Under alle omstendigheter må man regne med at også en vesentlig del av de jøder som er tilbake i Tyskland vil forsøke å komme seg vekk. Hatet mot dem er for inngrodd til at en forsoning er tenkelig den nærmeste fremtid. Allerede før Hitler- revolusjonen fortalte hvordan det egentlig hang sammen med gjennomsnittstyskernes antisemitisme: 

Det nytter ikke å besverge dikternes og tenkernes land i deres dikteres og tenkeres navn. . .

Det er fåfengt å søke ensomheten. De sier: Den feige, han skjuler seg, det er hans dårlige samvittighet som tvinger ham til det. Det er fåfengt å gå ut blant dem og rekke dem hånden. De sier: Hva er det for frekkheter han tillater seg! Den jødiske påtrengigheten. 

Det er fåfengt å være dem tro som medkjemper eller som medborger. De sier: Han er Proteus, han kan alt!

Det er fåfengt å hjelpe dem med å kaste slavelenkene av seg. De sier: Han får nok sin profit.

Det er fåfengt å nøytralisere giften. De brygger en ny. Det er fåfengt å leve og dø for dem. De sier: Han er jøde!

Det var det Kurt Tucholsky følte også. Men man må ikke glemme at Tucholsky’s skjebne bare er en blant mange. Som regel er ingen med som kan bringe beskjed om emigrant tragediene.

4 januar 1936
Ragnar Vold
fra boken Motstand

 

Ragnar Vold, courtesy Jan Erik Vold

OM FORFATTEREN RAGNAR VOLD:

Ragnar Vold ( 1906 – 1967) var en norsk journalist, forfatter og Venstre politiker, kjent som sin tids krasseste kritiker av den gryende nazismen og stalinismen 1933.

Etter examen artium 1926 oppholdt han seg i Geneve og ble i 1929 Dagbladet sin korrespondent derfra. Fra 1934 var han avisens faste utenrikskommentator og skrev artikler som var «impresjonistiske øyeblikksbilder».

At Tyskland marsjerer, som Vold skrev i 1934, ble latterl atterliggjort av Niels Murer i Aftenposten og Hamsun kalte Vold «Lurven», han hadde harselert med Hans FF.K Gunther sin raselære.

I boken Motstand finnes 140 artikler av Ragnar Vold, «norsk presses ubestridt ledende antinazistiskepenn gjennom hele tredvetallet», Ragnar Vold er far til lyrikeren Jan Erik Vold (f. 1939) og forfatteren Karin Beate Vold (f. 1945).

Under den andre verdenskrig var han ettersøkt av Rinnanbanden og unnslapp såvidt fra Mo i Rana der familien satt i skjul hos svigerforeldrene. Vold var leder i Studentvenstrelaget, Oslo unge Venstre, Norges Venstrepresselag, Venstres pressekontor, og Privat Liberale Klubb. I 1958 satt han på styret tilNorsk Pressforbund i 12 år.

  .

R O M A N  J A K O B S O N 

Sweden 1940–41



Bengt Jangfeldt : Roman Jakobson in Sweden 1940–41

Roman Jakobson (1896–1982) was born in Russia to a well-to-do family of Jewish descent, Anna Volpert Jakobson and the chemist Osip Jakobson in 1896.

Roman Osipovich Jakobson grew up in the intellectual circles of Moscow, where French and Russian were the normal languages of the intelligentsia and conversation often focused on poetry and art. He entered high school at the Lazarev Institute of Oriental Languages in Moscow in 1906-1907, and was already at that time engaged in writing and analyzing poetry. The curriculum at the institute included studies of Russian folk poetry and folklore, as well as literary theory, French poetry, and Russian.

1920 was a year of political fights in Russia, and Jakobson relocated to Prague as a member of the Soviet diplomatic mission to continue his doctoral studies. He immersed himself both into the academic and cultural life of pre-war Czechoslovakia and established close relationships with a number of Czech poets and literary figures. He became professor at Masaryk University in Brno since 1933.

Jakobson escaped from Prague in early March 1939 via Berlin for Denmark, where he was associated with the Copenhagen linguistic circle. He fled to Norway on 1 September 1939. In 1940 fled to Sweden by walking across the border, where he continued his work at the Karolinska Hospital (with works on aphasia and language competence). 

When Swedish colleagues feared a possible German occupation, he managed to leave on a cargo ship, together with Ernst Cassirer (the former rector of Hamburg University) to New York in 1941 to become part of the wider community of intellectual émigrés who fled there. 

• 1939 Abandons Brno after the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia, March 15: hides in Prague while awaiting exit visas. 
• Arrives in Denmark, April 21, visiting professor at the University of Copenhagen. 
• Leaves Denmark for Norway in early September, visiting professor at the University of Oslo. 
• 1940 Following the Nazi invasion of Norway on April 9, flees North, entering Sweden at Särna, visiting professor at the University of Uppsala.

	.

JACOBSEN IN SWEDEN

1940–41

by Bengt Jangfeldt

 

It is well known that during the wanderings provoked by the German occupation of Czechoslovakia in 1938, Roman Jakobson spent two years in Scandinavia, first in Denmark, then in Norway and Sweden.He lectured wrote articles and took active part in the academic life of these countries. it was a very intense period in the scholar's life, the intensity no doubt being enhanced b a political development that could at any moment take a turn which for a Jewish intellectual especially could prove fatal. 

When, in 1977, I was working with Jakobson on his memoirs of the Russian Avant-garde movement (published in Jangfeldt 1992), he told me some amusing details about his flight from Norway to Sweden in 1940: e.g., how he and his wife Svatava Pirkova Jakobson spent a week in prison in a little Swedish border town and how, in order to secure some fresh air, he took long walks with the prison guard, entertaining him in German with episodes from Russian history.

This caught my interest, and at the beginning of the 1990’s, when Jakobson’s file in the socalled Foreign Commission kept in the archive of the Swedish Immigration Office [Invandrarverket]) was made available, I decided to investigate it. Containing police reports, correspondence with official authorities, letters from Swedish slavists and philologists, applications to the Foreign Commission, and one socalled Alien’s passport, the file corroborates and supplements much of the information that Jakobson conveyed to me orally. The facts presented below are, unless stated otherwise, based on this documentation.

On the 23rd of April, 1940, at three o’clock in the afternoon, the Czech citizens Roman Jakobson and his wife Svatava Jakobson turned up at the customs post at the Swedish border to Norway, without a passport or any other documents to prove their identity. They declared themselves to be and were taken to the police station in the little border town of Särna, where a police report was drawn up. The report sheds new light on Jakobson’s personal biography in the thirties as well as on his stay in the Scandinavian countries. (For his scholarly contacts with Scandinavian colleagues in 1939-41 see Astrid Baecklund Eehler's article 1977, 21-27).

According to the information given in this report, after the German Machtübernahme the professors at Brno University were persecuted, and after some time the university was closed. Jakobson then went to Prague, where he spent about a month, during which time his apartment in Brno was searched by the police. In Prague the Danish consul managed to get an exit visa for Jakobson, and at the end of April, 1939, he arrived through Berlin in Copenhagen, where he had been invited to give lectures.

The political situation obviously did not give Jakobson much of a choice, but one of the reasons why he decided to go to Denmark was no doubt his close contacts with the Danish linguists Viggo Brøndal and Louis Hjelmslev, founders of the Copenhagen Linguistic Circle. Both scholars had lectured in Prague in the thirties, they were both members of the Prague Circle, and it was they who invited Jakobson to lecture in the Danish capital (Baecklund-Ehler, 23).

At the University of Copenhagen, Jakobson lectured about the structure of the phoneme and in the Linguistic Circle on the zero sign (Jakobson 1974). Four months later, at the end of August, he went on to Oslo, where he arrived on September 1st, the day of the outbreak of the World War. The role played in Denmark by Brøndal and Hjelmslev was played here by his friend and colleague Alf Sommerfelt, who had participated, as the only scholar from Scandinavia, in the phonological conference convoked by the Prague Linguistic Circle in 1930; Sommerfelt was also the first to acknowledge (in 1939) of Jakobson’s ideas on distinctive features for the study of phonology (Baecklund-Ehler, 22). 

In Oslo, Jakobson gave lectures at the university, worked at the Institute for Comparative Cultural Studies and was elected member of the Norwegian Academy of Science. During his seven-month stay in Norway, (Baecklund-Ehler, 25). One of these scholars was the semitologist Harris Birkeland, whose book Akzent und Vokalismus (Oslo 1940), according to the author himself, was written under Jakobson’s (Baecklund-Ehler, 25). With Birkeland Jakobson initiated an attempt at a phonological approach to the metrics of Biblical laments, but this joint study was disrupted when the Nazi army invaded Norway.

When on April 9, 1940, the German army gave the authorities of the Norwegian capital an ultimatum — to give up the city or it would be bombarded — Jakobson didn’t even have time to go home from the university to fetch his documents but immediately took a northbound train together with his wife. He feared that he might get into the hands of the Germans and be sent to a concentration camp. 

Svatava Jakobson Source Wikipedia

 

The Jakobsons spent a few days at Sørnesset, (Det Norske Videnskaps Akademi) where Oslo University had a sanatorium, but the Germans were after him. He and his wife were advised to flee to Sweden, which they did. 

In the police report Jakobson states that he would like to stay in Sweden since in Czechoslovakia and Norway he might be sent to a concentration camp. For recommendations he refers to his Swedish colleagues, slavists and linguists: Professor Hjalmar Lindroth at the University of Gothenburg, Professor Anton Carlgren, the University of Stockholm, Professor Rikard Ekblom, the University of Lund, Professor Gunnar Gunnarsson at the University of Uppsala, and Astrid Baecklund (who was to defend a doctoral thesis under Jakobson’s supervision later the same year). The following day the police authorities in Särna sent the report to the authority in Stockholm in charge of matters concerning foreign citizens, the so called Foreign Commission. A week later the Commission took the decision.

Pending the decision about a residence permit, were moved to the small town of Bollnäs in the northwest of Sweden. The positive decision may very well have been the result of a letter submitted to the Foreign Commission by Rikard Ekblom.

On May 6, Jakobson sent a letter to the Foreign Commission asking permission to go to Stockholm for 2–3 days. His request was motivated by his decision to leave Sweden and go to France or England, and since all documents were still in Oslo, plans for the trip could only be made in Stockholm. In a post scriptum to the letter Jakobson reports that the very same day he had received from Czech diplomatic representatives in Paris a letter informing him about the possibility of going to France, and also that he had been invited to France by his parents, who lived in Paris, as well as by the Dean of the Sorbonne.

Jakobson acted with astounding speed and efficiency. The following day, May 7, he sent an application (in Swedish) to the Foreign Commission in which he asked for an Alien’s passport and permission to stay in the country until he received a French visa. In this application, he declared himself to be a Czech citizen. As to Jakobson’s citizenship, there is some confusion in the documents. Sometimes he is a Czech, sometimes a Norwegian, sometimes he declares himself to be stateless. In one police report he says that he and his wife were given Norwegian citizenship but didn’t get the official confirmation before fleeing to Sweden. 

Jakobson and his wife received permission to go to Stockholm in order to arrange their personal matters. In Stockholm, they once again turned to the Foreign Commission, this time to ask permission to settle in Uppsala. writes Jakobson, Already the following morning he received an answer from the Commission informing him that, pending the residence permit, Jakobson and his wife could, or, as the letter says, stay at Uppsala. The same day Jakobson received his foreign passport as well as Norwegian passports from the Norwegian embassy in Stockholm.

The permission to stay in Sweden was only granted for six months at a time, so Jakobson had to renew his application twice, in November, 1940, and in May, 1941. In the first of these applications, he states in the paragraph that he is waiting for permission to go to America — through Germany and Lisbon! He had been invited to New York, where a chair in general linguistics was waiting for him, and the American visa had already been issued.

The passport in Jakobson’s file is in fact stamped with three visas: Norwegian and British transit visas and a regular French entry visa, all three issued as early as May, 1940. This means that initially Jakobson had no intention to stay in Sweden but wanted to move on as soon as possible. However, instead of leaving the country in May, 1940, he stayed on a whole year.

In fact, Jakobson and his wife did not leave Sweden until late May,1941, when they embarked upon a passenger ship in Gothenburg destined for New York. With him on the ship was another European emigré, the philosopher Ernst Cassirer, who since 1936 had been a professor at the University of Gothenburg and who, like Jakobson, thought it best to leave a country that might at any time be invaded by the Germans. As a matter of fact, Jakobson was directly advised by Östen Undén, the Chancellor of the Swedish Universities, to leave the country before it was occupied : vous pouvez partir, partez, nous ne savons pas quand les Allemands viendront nous prendre.(Interview on French television Feb 1972).

In her memoirs of her husband, Toni Cassirer remembered the vivid discussions between the two scholars during the crossing of the Atlantic :«The conversation lasted […] nearly the whole fortnight of the passage and was extremely exciting and rewarding for both scholars. Whether it was stormy or not, whether the mines were dancing before us or not, whether the war news were positive or not — the two scholars were discussing their linguistic problems with the greatest enthusiasm» (Cassirer 1981, 282).

Mrs. Cassirer also recalls that on the second day the ship was stopped bythe Germans who wanted to check the identity of the passengers. Cassirer and his wife were Swedish citizens and passed the control without difficulties, but the Jakobsons were stateless. When the German officers realized that Jakobson was a Russian refugee, however, he and his wife were allowed to continue.

Roman Jakobson’s impression of the academic milieu in Sweden was rather ambivalent. On the negative side, one may cite the Swedish linguists ’ignorance of the new phonological theories; in this respect they were far behind their Danish and Norwegian colleagues (although there were exceptions, like Hjalmar Lindroth and Bertil Malmberg). On the other hand, this ignorance forced Jakobson to try to present the new ideas in a more pedagogical form to avoid all terminological innovations (Jakobson/Pomorska 1982,31).

A positive element of Jakobson’s stay was his cooperation with other foreign scholars working in Sweden, Janosz Lotz and Wolfgang Steinitz. During his work with them he reached a deeper understanding of the need for a phonological approach to the problems of versification : the result of this cooperation was the publication of an article on the axioms of a versification system (Jakobson/Lotz 1941), written by Jakobson and Lotz and based on a lecture given at the Hungarian Institute of Stockholm University just one month before Jakobson left the country (Jakobson /Pomorska 1982, 32).

Another positive aspect of Jakobson’s Swedish experience was that it, as he wrote later, substantially enriched his : «Without the spirited assistance of the University Clinic at Uppsala and the rich medical library at the Karolinska Institutet in Stockholm, I wouldn’t have been able to tackle the questions of comparative interpretation of linguistic and neurological syndroms, i.e., the questions on which the classification and therapeutics of aphasia are to a greater and greater extent based today» (Jakobson 1974). The most important result of these studies was the book on child language and aphasia, published in Uppsala in 1941 (Jakobson 1941).

There was, however, yet another connection between Roman Jakobson and Sweden, however oblique. Two years before his escape from Czechoslovakia, he had published an article about Eveline Hańska, Balzac’swife, and her sister Caroline Sobańska, who was the mistress of both the Polish and Russian national poets, Adam Mickiewicz and Alexander Puškin, as well as a police spy working for the tsarist secret police (Jakobson1937).

During our conversations, Roman Jakobson told me that during his stay in Sweden he met with a relative of Eveline’s and Caroline’s: Marika Stiernstedt, a famous Swedish writer, whose great grandmother Pauline was the sister of the two Polish beauties. As far as I remember, Jakobson mentioned Mrs. Stiernstedt as one of those who him in Sweden, but there are no traces of any interventions on her part in the documents I have seen. However and whenever they met, they had a lot to talk about, Caroline’s biographer and her sister’s great grandchild.

In 1935, Marika Stiernstedt had published a book based on her impressions from a trip to the Soviet Union (Stiernstedt 1935). Although her attitude towards communist Russia was more favourable than negative, her conclusions were quite critical and close to those drawn by André Gide a year later in his book Retour de l’URSS. And like Gide, she was criticized for the book in the Soviet Union and by communists in her own country.

Roman Jakobson and Marika Stiernstedt were thus connected by mutual interests : for his homeland and her relatives. The information Mrs. Stiernstedt gave Jakobson about her relatives was probably more or less identical with the story she provides in her family chronicle, published in two parts in Stockholm in 1928 and 1930 (Stiernstedt 1928–30). 

From this chronicle it is clear that in the family mythology it was , i.e. Eveline, and not , who was the most brightly shining star among the sisters. Jakobson, who knew the family record at least as well as Mrs. Stiernstedt, was able to provide her with information that would no doubt make her change her mind on that point.

APPENDIX :[Police] Report. Wednesday, 24th April 1940

On Tuesday, 23rd April 1940, at 3 p.m., the Czech citizens Professor Roman Jakobson and his spouse Svatava Jakobson were brought to the police station in Särna by Constable Knut Bernhard Green. The latter reported that he that same day had taken them into custody at the customs post at Fløtningen, since they had arrived from Norway and were without passports or other means of identification and furthermore declared themselves to be political refugees.

Under questioning, performed by CID Constable David Helmer Svedberg, Professor Jakobson [...] gave the following account :[...] 

He was born in Moscow, Russia, on 11th October 1896, legitimate son of the then Austrian citizen Josef Jakobson, engineer, and the latter’s wife in marriage Anna, née Volpert, is married, domiciled in Brünn /Brno, Czechoslovakia, most recent address 16, Doktor Holms Vei, Aker, Oslo, and is employed at the Institute for Comparative Cultural Research in Oslo.

He lived and was raised in his parental home in Moscow until 1918, during which time he attended the Lazarevsky Institute in Moscow, which educational institution he left at the age of 16 1/2 years. He belongs to the graeco-catholic faith but is not confirmed. 

After completing his studies at the above-named educational institution he commenced studies in general and slavic philology at the University of Moscow until 1918, when he left Moscow together with his parents and proceeded to Prague, at the university of which he continued his studies. In 1930 he received the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Prague. Alongside his studies he also wrote on philological matters. 

In 1931 he became a senior lecturer at the Masaryk University of Brünn, where he then, in 1933, went on to become Professor of Slavic Philology and in 1936 Professor of Mediaeval Literature, posts which he held until he left Czechoslovakia. During this time he gave a number of lectures in other countries; among other places, he visited Rome, Amsterdam, Ghent, Sofia and Aarhus, at the universities of which he lectured. 

He did not participate in political life, but engaged in a debate with German scholars on the subject of Czech history and literature, and in so doing incurred their displeasure. After Hitler came to power in Czechoslovakia the professors in Brünn were subjected to persecution and the university was closed. 

For this reason Jakobson departed for Prague, where he stayed for around a month. Apparently, he was searched for immediately after his departure from Brünn, since a search was carried out in his home there. 

During his stay in Prague, the Danish minister there helped him to obtain an exit permit to allow him to travel to Copenhagen, where he had earlier been invited to lecture. He arrived in Copenhagen on 23rd April 1939 and remained there until the end of August 1939, during which time he gave a number of lectures on linguistic theory at the university. 

At the end of August he departed for Oslo. After his arrival in Oslo he lectured at the university there. In addition, he started to work at the Institute for Comparative Cultural Research and was elected a permanent member of the Norwegian Academy of Science.

At around 11 am on Tuesday, 9th April 1940, he travelled into Oslo, accompanied by his wife, who had been with him throughout. They then made their way to the university. There he learned that the authorities had received an ultimatum from the German military authorities to the effect that the town was to surrender within a few hours, failing which it would be bombarded. 

Since he feared that he would fall into the hands of the Germans and be returned to Czechoslovakia, where he would at the very least be taken to a concentration camp [phrase incomplete — B.J.]. His fear of this was all the greater since he knew that those university professors who had not managed to leave Czechoslovakia in time had been interned in concentration camps soon after his departure for Denmark.

He intended to travel further north in Norway, for which ends he had been supplied by Professor Selang in Oslo with a letter of recommendation to the university convalescent home in Sørnesset. He had not been able to procure a vehicle to convey him to his home nor had he had time to make his way on foot, which is why he had not been able to collect his passport, papers or other personal effects. 

He had some 1, 800 Norwegian kroner which he had received as remuneration for a piece of work. Together with his wife he made his way to the railway station in Oslo, where he managed to get onto a train to Rena, where they spent the night. On the following day they continued to Sørnesset, where they arrived on 11th April. There they stayed until 19th April, when they received a message from friends in Koppang to the effect that there was a danger that the Germans would come to Sørnesset. They therefore left for Koppang the same day. 

The following day they left Koppang, since Rena had been bombed and Koppang was to be evacuated. They obtained a permit from the police authorities there in order to be able to make their way to the Swedish border. They were told by the military commander in Koppang that it would be wise for them to make their way over to Sweden. They then travelled from Koppang to Ossheim-Misterdal and through Trysildalen to Myrsta. From there they were allowed to travel in a military bus to Ängedal, from where they made their way to the Swedish border, where they reported to the customs office at Fløtningen.

Jakobson explained that he could not return to Czechoslovakia, since he would immediately be sent to a concentration camp; neither could he return to Norway, since he feared that, if he fell into German hands there, he would meet the same fate .He went on to explain that he was confident that he would be able to obtain some proof of identity via the Norwegian legation in Stockholm. 

He wished to obtain residence permits for himself and his wife and refers to Professor Hjalmar Lindroth, Göteborg, Professor [Anton] Carlgren,Stockholm, Professor [Rikard] Ekblom, Lund, Professor Gunnar Gunnarsson, Uppsala and [Astrid] Bäcklund, schoolmistress, Oskarshamn, who would be able to supply the necessary information about them. [...]

On his arrival at Särna, Jakobson had 1, 562 kronor in Norwegian money on his person.

Professor and Mrs. Jakobson each had a means of identity, in the form of tickets for the Holmenkollen Railway. These had photographs affixed to them. Mrs. Jakobson has, in addition, a certificate of baptism. [...]

REFERENCES :

BAECKLUND-EHLER, A. (1977) : , in Roman Jakobson. Echoes of his Scholarship

CASSIRER, T. (1981) : Mein Leben mit Ernst Cassirer, Hildesheim.

JAKOBSON, R. (1937) : , Lidové noviny, Jan. 3

— (1941) : Kindersprache, Aphasie und allgemeine Lautgesetze, Uppsala : Almqvist& Wiksell. 

— (1974) : [Postscriptum to] Poetik & lingvistik, Stockholm : Norstedts.

JAKOBSON, R. / LOTZ, J. (1941) : , Stockholm : Ungerska Institutionen.

JAKOBSON, R. / POMORSKA, K. (1982) : Besedy, Jerusalem : The Magnes Press.

JANGFELDT, B. (1992) : Jakobson-budetljanin, Stockholm : Almqvist & Wiksell International (Stockholm Studies in Russian Literature, 26).

STIERNSTEDT, M. (1928–30) : Mitt och de mina. I–II, Stockholm : Norstedts.

Written by © Bengt Jangfeldt

Bengt Jangfeldt, born in Stockholm, Sweden, in 1948.

Studied Russian literature 

in Stockholm and Moscow. PhD in 1976 

on a dissertation about Vladimir Majakovsky. 

Lives in Stockholm. The author of biographies of Axel Munthe (2003),

Vladimir Mayakovsky (2007), 

Joseph Brodsky (2010), and Raoul Wallenberg (2012). 

His books have been translated into several languages. 

He also works as a translator and has translated the poetry of Mayakovsky 

(with Gunnar Harding), as well as the poetry and prose of 

Osip Mandelstam and Joseph Brodsky.

Bengt Jangfeldt has received several prizes for his books,

including the August Prize (twice) and the Swedish Academy’s Biography Prize

.

 

R E F U G E E  I N  N O R W A Y

1 9 5 2

A NEW CATEGORY OF REFUGEES

EMERGED

A new category of refugees emerged in the wake of World War II: Jewish displaced persons, from the Nazi concentration camps or from wartime hiding. It is estimated that there were about 250,000 Jewish displaced persons (DP's) at the war's end. 

In their book Waiting for Hope, Angelika Konigseder and Juliana Wetzel (Northwestern Universities Press, 2001) richly details the realities and complexities of the DP's postwar path towards rehabilitation.

Refugees were financially aided by UNRRA United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration) and from 1948, the International Relief Organization and various Jewish relief organizations, American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (Joint) and the British Jewish Relief Unit (JRU), Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (Joint) and the British Jewish Relief Unit (JRU). Many were very ill with TB and so handicapped that they were unfit for labor. Most of them did not believe they would be able to start a new life in a new country.

I had the privilege of interviewing one such displaced person - a Jew, who as a youngster came with his parents to Norway in 1952 and is now a Norwegian citizen. He consented to the interview with full realization that it would be painful for him to reflect on the many traumatic events he experienced, a past that remains a strong part of his life. But he has resiliently insisted on regaining life, and found ways to live and move on from an almost zero- if not the so-called minus place he started from. Silence is one means of survival and it is accepted - by some. However, in sharing his story, Mr. M has also said yes to recreate the vulnerable. I will for the sake of this article, call him Mr. M, as he has expressed a wish to remain anonymous.

Mr. M: My parents escaped from Poland when WWII broke out. We arrived in Russia where I was born in 1941 during the escape. After the war, we decided not to return to Poland, but had to pass through in order to arrive at a European refugees’ repatriation camp, a camp for Displaced Persons. We arrived at Reichenbach in Austria. Later in 1946/47, we were relocated to Dachau near Munich, Germany. 

My mother tells me how terrible it was during one of our travels to hear natives standing on the railway platform in Poland shouting: “Are there really that many Jews still remaining?” This stayed with me. I personally remember another incident when we arrived in Munich. We had to leave the train with our luggage. German soldiers were waving and shouting forcefully: “Hurry up! Schnell! Get off quickly..!” and I thought: “The war is over. We do our best. Why do they have to be so angry?”

Most of the refugees in Germany and elsewhere wanted to settle in USA, Canada or Israel– but in order to do so, one of the criteria was that one was healthy. I will never forget waving good-bye to the many of our Jewish friends that we met in Dachau. They were all transported in a truck with all their belongings on their way to Israel. My mother wept deeply. She never told me why, but a five years old boy understands.

As a matter of fact, we had prepared to leave for Israel as well. We had bought items that were difficult to get hold of in Israel. We built a trunk for our personal belongings and started to pack. However, a last routine medical check before departure showed that father had TB. Hence my parents, my sibling and I were unable to leave and remained in Dachau for 6 more years. We lived in a one room apartment, without water, while father was at the sanatorium for a longer period of time without recovering.

I started school and learned German easily as we spoke German-like Yiddish at home. I made many friends among classmates, in the school yard as well as in my neighborhood. The teachers were very nice. I was automatically exempt from religion classes where Christianity was taught. On my way home, I experienced a few times anti-Semitic mobbing by boys, but was protected by my always loyal German schoolmates. My parents also developed close German friendships, but even so, we did not want to remain in Germany.

The Norwegian Refugee Commission was tasked with placing active TB cases in Norwegian sanatoria selecting those they felt would benefit most. Because Norway is a small country, it could not possibly take them all. Furthermore,Norway was recovering from the war. A choice had to be made.  They had ongoing discussions concerning the possibility of giving at least some displaced people of Jewish origin (many of whom were traumatized and left with scars on their lungs and their minds) permission to enter Norway, to settle and finally to become citizens. 

Norway was well equipped to receive TB patients. A TB prevention law had been voted at the turn of the century that made it mandatory to treat a human carrier of the disease. There were two key scientists in the field of TB, Olaf Scheel and Johannes Heimbeck, both affiliated with Ullevål hospital, Oslo. They were leading researchers and by 1947 had made medical history in the treatment of TB.

Mr. M’s father, suffering from TB, was among those selected on humanitarian grounds—along with his wife and children. In Norway there had already been several cases of TB. The selection of refugees in 1952 happened as far as I understand in collaboration with the Joint and the Norwegian authorities. Marcus Levin from the Jewish Congregation in Oslo was one of several appointees who picked our contingent of about 10 families with TB from Dachau/Munich. We would be sent to Stavanger, as we understood it. Apparently the employment and housing opportunities there were better than other places.

Markus Levin was a Norwegian Jew, born in the small town of Rjukan. He was actively involved in the community, as member of the only Jewish family in town. He went into hiding shortly before the arrest in October 1943, and later fled to Sweden. He returned from exile after three years, all the while actively involved with the refugee work and in the lives of the refugees who arrived in Sweden. 

He was also a representative of the Joint Commission, an agency of the United Jewish Appeal of Norway: “The spirit of humanity which has followed a straight course from the days of Henrik Wergeland to our present day is so firmly rooted among the people of Norway that any organized anti-Semitism will never arise there. And as the job of reconstruction continues to go forward, Norway will no doubt again become the secure country for Norwegian Jews, which it was before Germany brought fatal destruction to these people” These are the words of Markus Levin, written in 1946. His strong involvement in the earlier and post war work has left marks, in archives, in personal renderings, in lives that still today has direct ties to his name, as they remember his life.

Mr. M: The refugee center in Stavanger was well organized, supported by professionals. The adults learned the native language and were given lectures in Norwegian history and culture. Norway was at the time a homogeneous Protestant society, a society that is geographically in the periphery of Europe. 

The ordinary employees at the center were generally very kind, but rather unsophisticated and uneducated and were generally skeptical of other cultures. My impression was that they generally pity people who were not Christians. It made a big impression that the center, with the best of intent, arranged a Christmas party with food and gifts and so on. We were even encouraged to walk around the Christmas tree and sing songs along with the staff. And we did!

My meeting with school: We were 3 children at the center at the age of primary school and we started in different regular classes with Norwegian students at an East End school in Stavanger. Before we left for Stavanger, my father had spoken highly of Norway as a good nation where people were kind and honest. He had bought a dictionary so that I could learn Norwegian and I looked forward to it. 

However, the school experience was a cultural shock for me. I was used to order and discipline in the German school environment, with kids who respected adults. Norwegian children seemed unruly, loud, ran around in the school bus and in the school yard. Some did their homework on the sidewalk before class. The teachers in the school yard were few and passive. During the first breaks, the students noticed me as being a newcomer. They gathered around me, came close, very close and treated me as if I was a monkey. They laughed at my accent, and teased me with love notes on the wall when I talked with girls.

One day my purse was stolen from a wardrobe by an unknown student during a sports-event. I reported it and his mother returned it much later to my parents, weeping, ashamed. Among the teachers, only one was informed by the headmaster about my background.  Some of the other teachers ignored me and never explained anything about subjects I was unfamiliar with from previous schooling in Germany(such as crafts and sports). 

One got mad at me because I did not understand his instructions. Classmates had to cool him down and inform him about my background. Other teachers were too kind and gave me undeserved good marks. The level among the students was low. I was soon one of the best in mathematics and writing. I did not tell to my parents about all my problems. I later developed an ulcer from the stress and was sent to the children’s hospital in Bergen. Things turned far better once I changed school as we moved to another part of town.

One year later, all families had to start looking for work and a place to live. It was not easy to do in the postwar era. We experienced isolation. Families were scattered in settlements around Stavanger. A childless couple was offered a non-insulated garage in the countryside, with very bad bus connections, as a place to live. We were all used to city dwelling. We all wanted to go to Oslo so that we could have contact with other Jews – not only for religious reasons, but for social reasons as well. Only 4 out of 8 families remained in Stavanger/Sandnes area. There was only one religious fellow among us. Housing was lacking everywhere in Norway. We felt that the Jewish Congregation in Oslo could have done more to bring us closer to Oslo. Those families who took charge of their own destiny, managed to get both work and home in Oslo.

Housing shortage was a fact. We moved several times the first 1-2 years and lived in low quality housing. We shared kitchen and bath with others.  New apartments were being built in  Stavanger and we got one, allegedly in unfair competition with Norwegians who had longer seniority.  –  It was difficult to get suitable work for everyone. It seemed to be easier with jobs for craftsmen such as painters and electricians. Mr. R from Sandnes had to work in a factory on Saturdays, even though he was observant. Before the war my father had started medical studies, but had neither energy nor money to complete. His first employment was in a confectionery factory, but had to resign because of his lung condition and fearing the lifting that was required. His knowledge of Norwegian was adequate and he started as a clerk in a municipal office without possibility of promotion.

My father developed stress-related diseases.  Firstly he was operated for stomach ulcer, later he underwent a major lung operation. Treatment at a sanatorium and medication did not relieve his pain. He then had a heart attack and was operated four times for a blood clot.  His prostate was removed and, finally, he was treated for depression and weight loss. Mother was a well-read, happy and warm person who created a harmonious home environment and had friends everywhere. Migraine and arthritis did not distract her from all her activities.

It was difficult to be integrated into the Norwegian society that after all was not totally integrated itself into the European mindset. It suffered post-war poverty, it was a Christian nation and quite homogeneous  None of us felt at home. We felt we were foreigners. When I heard or read references to us as ‘you Jews,’ it meant I was still not classified as a Norwegian. It was a difficult time.

The four Jewish families in the Stavanger/Sandnes area met at intervals and talked about problems with the “natives”, their insecurity, skepticism and lack of knowledge about people from a non-Christian culture. It took a long time before the families were accepted in the workplace and in the communities. My parents were perhaps more extroverted and took the initiative to speak with neighbors and invited people to our home. We had great friends. We had interesting discussions about cultural and social issues. With one of the family friends, however, we sensed a hidden missionary zeal.

I myself had few friends. I was not into school games or sports like the other children. I also became more cautious as I experienced poor loyalty from a classmate whom I regarded as my best friend: After bickering with another kid, my “friend” was teaching me how to behave, in front of surrounding classmates! Also, I refrained from speaking with girls, as it could be a source of mockery. A nice class-mate who wanted my best told me that he prayed for me every night that I would convert to Christianity. A nice family from Bergen heard about me and invited me and an orphan several times to a summer camp for three weeks on a small island they owned. I brought my accordion. These were unforgettable weeks. We went rowing, fishing and doing all sorts of fun things on the island.

My parents were emancipated and non-religious. They knew the Jewish Holidays very well, but celebrated none of them. Our home was filled with books and records. We met frequently with Norwegian and Jewish friends. I listened to the adults’ political, cultural, historical and religious discussions and read many books, among them of course on Zionism, Hitler and the Holocaust.

An aunt who had survived Auschwitz and lived in Paris visited us often. Another aunt had, due to the restrictive British policies, smuggled herself into Israel prior to 1948, but her son, age 4, was temporarily left behind in Cyprus, to be cared for unintended by strict ultra-orthodox Jews. As it turned out, her son refused to speak with his parents for a long time following their reunion. We were born during the war and were ourselves witnesses.

I spent my youth in Norway but did not feel “at home” in Norway at that time.  A girl my age, who had come with us to the country in 1952 felt the same and decided early to immigrate to Israel following the gymnasium. I had made similar plans as hers, but felt compelled to stay closer to my parents.  Two Jewish brothers at our age who came to Stavanger with their family in 1948 also decided to immigrate to Israel later on.

Most Jewish refugees were members of the Jewish Congregation in Oslo. Oslo however, was 600 km (372 miles) away! The leaders of the Congregation thought it was time that the youth in Stavanger area approaching the age of Bar Mitzvah receive some Cheder education. Mr. R. from Sandnes was the appointed religion teacher. The girl, the two brothers and I met at our home once a week for a period of 1-2 years. 

We were schooled in Jewish traditions and the High Holiday rituals in Hebrew. All this did not appeal to us. Zionism did. The Congregation’s recreation center outside Oslo gathered children, adults and guests from other Scandinavian Congregations. It was wonderful, we were swimming, singing and dancing. There was a strong sense of camaraderie. We had great teachers; some of them even came from Israel.

One of the Congregational leaders got the great idea that I should study for Bar Mitzvah with the rabbi during the summer heat, while the other kids were busy with other activities. Marcus Levin invited the whole family to his private home in Oslo, with several other guests to celebrate my Bar Mitzvah following the ceremony in the synagogue. I will always be grateful to him for that.

We also had annual get-together's in various cities in Scandinavia under the auspices of Scandinavian Jewish Youth Organization that offered very popular and interesting programs. One would feel at home, we would make new friends. We acquired knowledge and strengthened our identities. Many fell in love there.

I still had very little social interaction with the Norwegian youth of my age. My daily routine was school work, helping around the house and gardening, private tutoring and doing odd jobs to support the family economy.

Following graduation from the gymnasium, I started academic studies at University of Oslo. It was good for me to leave Stavanger. Together with broad minded students coming from all over the country, I felt being integrated and respected and hence became more social and extroverted.

The Jewish community granted me a bed-sit in a new-built community house. It was easy then to attend many of the meetings at the Congregation, Youth Organization and other associations. I was often invited to Jewish families who had children my age.

There is a long tradition of Jewish Youth Organization in Oslo giving homage to Henrik Wergeland on the Norwegian Constitution day, May 17th. He worked so hard to remove an anti-Semitic paragraph in the Constitution of 1814, which did not allow Jews to enter Norway.

A lot of people, both Jews and non-Jews, celebrate the day in the way Wergeland started that tradition, with children’s parades in all corners of the nation, joyful songs and school orchestras. All children are included, immigrants and handicapped. This is unique in the world, Norwegians, once Vikings, now peace-loving people…  I am moved to tears each year.

Besides being member of several humanitarian and peace-moving organizations, in the 1970′s, I was involved with Soviet Jewry Action Group and led a demonstration at the Russian Embassy in Oslo because of Russia’s bad treatment of Jews that attempted to leave Russia for Israel.

The Jewish Congregation in Oslo built a senior center for Jewish citizens in 1985. My parents were getting older and on my recommendation, they moved there in 1987. They said good bye to their friends once again. It was a sad departure for my parents to separate from good friends and neighbors, after 35 years in Stavanger and leave for something completely unknown. But things turned out well. They got their own tiny apt, like-minded people to converse with, excellent care and a son who lived nearby.

Written by Liv Grimsby