Countrymen

by Bo Lidegaard

  We have no way of knowing whether the Busch-Petersen family at the farm in Øster Ulslev also tended toward irony. But we do know how they reacted when their telephone rang and the fate of unknown refugees was suddenly bound up with their own. We can only imagine the visiting brother from Charlottenlund explaining about his distant acquaintances now asking for refuge just as the annual hunting party was gathering at the farm. Apparently there was no hesitation, no reservation, and no conditions. They were welcome, all eight of them. Perhaps this seems obvious, given the fate of the European Jews. But the Busch-Petersens did not know what we know. On the contrary, they knew that so far no measures had been taken against Jews in Denmark, and no threats directed against them. The easy response would have been to defer the issue. It must also have occurred to the Busch-Petersens that if a German action against the Jews really did materialize, it would be most dangerous to be housing a large group of refugees. What to do with them? And for how long? Yet here, as in so many other cases throughout the country, the refugees were welcomed into private homes. There wasn’t much room, but the farmer and his wife vacated their own bedroom to make room for the families.

  Leni Yahil concludes after countless interviews, “Even where the request came from the Jews themselves, these were never refused.… Institutions also opened their doors. For short stays schools were placed at the disposal of the refugees, but it was clearly impossible to keep many people in them for any length of time without attracting undesirable attention. Among other institutions which took in refugees were the hospitals.”1

  The crucial point is that the refugees could count on their countrymen and engage friends, colleagues, and neighbors, as a matter of course, in their efforts to find a way out. Not even necessarily those who were known to be involved in the armed resistance or those who were particularly vocal in their loathing of Nazism or the occupation forces. Rather, a wide array of ordinary citizens took their first step into defiance by helping fellow citizens. They did so because they perceived the impending action as an attempt to break the spine of the society they felt part of. Hence the action, even before it was launched, triggered the very reaction the Germans feared in advance: the transformation of the general—passive—public into a self-aware citizenry determined to stand up against injustice.

  Of course there are examples of doors being kept shut. And of course cowardice, betrayal, and greed can be indentified in specific situations. But the Danish democracy had mobilized itself to protect the values on which it was based. With its decision to extend the final solution to Denmark, the Third Reich had aroused the strongest force in any country: the common popular will.

  Admitted to Hospital

  No one can say how many Danish Jews slept at home that Thursday night. We only know from numerous reports that the warnings spread in ever-larger circles and with increasing weight. Still, some refused to believe it—and others wouldn’t try to escape, even if they did.

  A small number, typically among the most recent arrivals, never got the message. But the vast majority heard, and generally they decided to make themselves invisible. It was not very difficult to leave home or to find somewhere to spend the first night or two. After all, no action had been directed against them yet. But from there the difficulties began. Where would they go next—and how? Who could they trust, and which way should they take? And what about family and relatives? Who was to take care of them and of what was left behind?

  Some, including the young Hannover and Marcus families, chose to act early and decisively. For them the flight was already unfolding. Admittedly their rapid departure had brought them into a situation and a place that were far from optimal. But at least they were on their way and had gained the first hard-earned experience, even before the threat became reality. Others still hoped to wait it out. Among them was Adolph Meyer, the twin sisters’ father, who had now overcome his doubts and acknowledged that an operation was under way, but had difficulty realizing how fundamentally this changed a position that, after a long life, he took for granted. Dr. Meyer had both a large family and many professional and personal acquaintances who cared deeply for his welfare. Meanwhile his adult children each took their own steps, independent of him. Their determination helped give him a feeling of greater security, and probably also encouraged him to stay put in order to be able to help if any situation arose where his children or grandchildren were in need.

  It appears that Dr. Meyer felt relatively safe once admitted into the hospital—but also that he did not yet fully realize the radical nature of the threat. Clearly he assumed he was somewhat protected by his social status, still in a position to pull a few strings if necessary. Key members of society—including some who were prominent in the Jewish community—were accustomed to being able to negotiate tolerable terms with the occupying power. It was tempting to believe that in spite of everything reason would eventually prevail, and that ultimately the top representatives of the occupation forces could be trusted to prevent the worst. After all, they were men of some honor. Or at least so it still seemed to many leading Danes, including those of Jewish origin. They were yet to discover that contrary to all their previous assumptions, this was a fatal error.

  In sharp contrast to his daughters, Dr. Meyer still lived in the relative security of the old world order, and as a patient he noted events that Thursday in his diary:

  The next morning, blood was taken to determine blood urea, and my blood pressure (150/90). I had some fruit that I had received as gifts, grapes … and some large apples … brought to me a few days before. It was nice to be able to treat the nurse and the sisters. Dr. Keller came and said that he was going to go away for a few days, but that Dr. Freudenthal had been informed. During the night I had decided to contact my lawyer, Frans Bülow, and Keller promised to attend to this. My maids visited me in the morning, as well as Honoré, who brought confirmation from Dr. Hart that I could stay with him in his summerhouse in Ruds Vedby. Bülow came by in the afternoon, and I gave him full power of attorney over my property and belongings, we went through my papers, and he got the inventory and the little red notebook.… Honoré had received my 3 best paintings for storage, a canteen of silverware had gone to Miss Eriksen’s aunt, a few paintings to Mrs. Poulsen on the 4th floor—I believe she eventually got 7 in total. My summer clothes were left with Miss Albrechtsen. Bülow got the inventory of all my furniture I had drawn up in the summer, and he got my savings-bank books and the lockbox with the key from the built-in cabinet, this latter on October first.—In the evening I was moved from the maternity ward to a room in another department, slept there.

  The illegal Danish cartoon from 1942, “The Cold Shoulder,” illustrates how most Danes felt about—and acted toward—the German occupiers. With the choices Denmark made upon the German invasion on April 9, 1940, and the understandings between the occupying power and the Danish government that developed during the following months, the Danish community on the whole continued to function on its own terms. Both parties had a mutual interest in maintaining the fiction that Denmark was still a sovereign and neutral country. In the eyes of Hitler and his henchmen Denmark was a friendly country inhabited by Aryans. But this was not the perception of the majority of Danes, who had no friendly feelings toward the intruders. The prevailing attitude in Denmark was to sit it out, or, as Prime Minister Stauning put it, “to play for time and to avoid … major disasters.”

  Meanwhile workers in the cities experienced a sharp decline in real wages and social conditions, and some of the hard-won social gains achieved through the 1930s were rolled back. But the society held, and few opposed the policy pursued by the national coalition government. A wave of patriotism swept the nation. Countless citizens participated in popular rallies, joined in community sings, and wore a national emblem with the king’s monogram. For them this was all part of a passive resistance, as demonstrated by the “cold shoulder” attitude by which most Danes sought to avoid any social contact with the Germans. But critics said that
the Danes clenched their fists in their pockets, as the country increased economic cooperation with the Third Reich and put up little active, let alone armed, resistance to the occupation.

  Ever so slowly, from 1942 resistance grew and began to bite in 1943. But this did not put an end to the cooperation, which actually expanded over the last years of the occupation, even as the government stepped down in August 1943.

  After the action against the Jews in October 1943, sympathy for the resistance grew stronger, but probably most people at the same time maintained their support for cooperation, wanting both to uphold normality as much as possible and yet also to get rid of the occupants as soon as possible.

  Museet for Dansk Bladtegning

  A Danish Initiative? Second Attempt

  At midday on Thursday representatives from all branches of commercial life in Denmark gathered one by one at the German headquarters at Dagmarhus. It was an impressive group, ranging from the Employers Association and the Federation of Trade Unions to the Confederation of Industries and the Agricultural Council to the Provincial Chamber of Commerce, the Shipowners Association, and the Merchants Guild—in short, everyone who had a say in Danish production and in the labor market. Each of them came with his own mandate and on his own initiative, and each made brief declarations stressing the adverse effects any action directed against “fellow citizens” would have on “peace and order,” the sense of justice, and on productivity. The message could not have been stronger or more deeply anchored in the Danish economy. But it did little to help. Werner Best refused to receive the deputations and only advised Berlin of it a day later, when the action was already in motion.

  Shortly after 3 p.m. the permanent secretaries resumed their discussion from the day before. But Einar Cohn did not show up. Like thousands of others, his daily duties had given way to the very pressing issues of escape and survival for himself and his family. At the meeting Nils Svenningsen and Eivind Larsen reported on their conversation with Best the night before, and the discussion within the group intensified as the impression was confirmed that an action was imminent. Several hesitated. Others argued for the urgent adoption of the proposal for an internment initiated by the Danes. Even so, opinions differed. Most important: Should Danish police engage in the arrest of innocent citizens—and even take the initiative to prevent the Germans from doing so? And should a final decision be subject to approval by former prime minister Buhl and other politicians?

  According to the contemporary notes of several participants. the discussion was sharp but unfocused. Everyone realized that people’s lives, and the personal legacy of the permanent secretaries, were at stake. And they were painfully aware that their decision could also have a far-reaching impact on the outside world’s view of Denmark and the perception in the free world of its position under the German occupation. But this awareness did not necessarily produce a clear—let alone a common—conclusion. Which was worse? Risk initiating a Danish action that, if it went wrong, would help the Germans deport the Jews? Or sit idle in a worthless protest while a crime was committed against innocent citizens?

  The sharpest opponent of the idea of detention was J. Wilcke, the permanent secretary in the Ministry of Agriculture. He had not participated in the discussion the day before and would not budge an inch from basic principles: “It will come back to Denmark in a bad way that we already agreed to intern the Communists, and it will be even worse if we also take the Jews. We must stick to the rule of law.”

  Svenningsen was not convinced. It wasn’t a “question of infringement of a legal principle, but of a purely humanitarian initiative. If we interned the Jews, it would be by their own choice and only to help them.… It was not right to involve the politicians in this case. If they were consulted, their advice would have to be respected. But this would also be dangerous in relation to the Germans, who might then get the impression that ultimately the politicians were still in charge.”

  Wilcke, however, held firm: “The plan for internment of Jews by Danish measures was opportunism and a flagrant violation of The Hague Convention. It would hardly help the Jews, because it could not ensure that the Germans wouldn’t still take them and deport them. If on the other hand the permanent secretaries put the entire administration’s continued cooperation on the line, the Germans would likely hold back in order not to expose themselves to the chaos that would result. They could not afford that.”

  Wilcke thus again raised the question whether the permanent secretaries should make the implementation of the German action a sticking point and threaten to resign if the raid was carried out. Svenningsen had rejected this idea the previous day, when the Jewish representatives requested his opinion. Too much would be at stake if the permanent secretaries left the administration of the country to the Nazis. Vice Admiral Vedel, who attended the meeting, rejected Wilcke’s idea as wishful thinking. The Germans both could and would do whatever they estimated to be in their own interest. He readily agreed with Svenningsen. But Permanent Secretary Jespersen did not. He was “of the view that an active involvement in the round-up of the Jews—despite the best intentions that lay behind the idea—would be completely erroneous and harmful. It would, in my view, be an ineradicable stain on our country if the Danish administration participated either directly or indirectly. Such collaboration could potentially cause incalculable consequences internally, destroying the civil respect and trust that were the necessary foundation of the official Danish administration.”

  Jespersen also had an eye out for the further implications in regard to the balance of power between the permanent secretaries and the occupiers: “To go along with breaking the rule of law ourselves was not only a serious violation of principle, but also a decisive operational move. Because if we are seen to be ready to abandon the rule of law when threats are directed against Jews, then in reality we signal that we are ready to do whatever they ask when we have a gun at our chest.”

  Also Jespersen felt strongly that only politicians could make such a radical decision: “If I want the politicians—and preferably a broader range than Minister Buhl—involved in the case, it is not to exempt officials of responsibility, but because issues that are vital for our country were meant for the people’s representatives to consider, and they in my opinion are in a much better position than the appointed officials to make determinations in accordance with the people’s desires and view of the law.”

  With this one might think that the plan was abandoned. Not so. The majority still felt that something had to be done on purely humanitarian grounds, and that the plan was the best option they could think of. As one put it, saving thousands of people was more important than the question of principle. It was not about contributing to injustice, but preventing and mitigating that which was coming from outside. And in addition, since the Jews’ most prominent leaders agreed, one need not consider whether assistance would be detrimental or beneficial. (Clearly the state secretaries took the support of the Jewish leaders for granted. It was only after the war that argument erupted as to what was actually said at the crucial meeting between the leaders and Svenningsen.)

  At this point Wilcke declared that he would resign if the majority advanced the internment proposal. Immediately this notion was forcefully rejected by his colleagues: None of the permanent secretaries could act individually. They had to remain united. It was all for one and one for all. No one could make the case for an individual decision. It would paralyze the administration and open the country to dark forces. It was now clear that the permanent secretaries would not resign collectively. The majority also opposed involving the politicians. This was not a political step, but an act of compassion. No one other than the permanent secretaries could take responsibility. Politicians could not or would not cover them. They were left to make the awful decision on their own.

  Late in the day, when Svenningsen had already left the meeting, Andreas Møller of the prime minister’s office attempted to sum up a conclusion: Svenningsen should seek ou
t the envoys from Sweden and Finland to learn where they stood. He also must sound out the views of politicians “without binding effect.” Behind these concrete decisions was an unspoken understanding that the permanent secretaries, if deportation became an imminent fact, would intervene for Danish detention as a last resort. The country was en route to a domestic plan for the internment of the Danish Jews.2

  While the permanent secretaries struggled to reach a common position, Gunnar Larsen, the former minister of public works, went to see Prime Minister Scavenius at his home. The two ministers, who were part of the government that had handed in its resignation but had not had it accepted, explored the possibility of getting a new Danish government up and running as they both felt this would be the only tenable solution to the government crisis that had prevailed since the end of August. But according to Larsen’s records the same day, Scavenius now took a skeptical view: “It was getting late, and as developments unfolded, the Germans moved farther and farther, so that the way back was increasingly difficult, especially if now the Jewish question also was effectively messed up, the way back would no longer be open.”

  Scavenius’s assessment is interesting because it reflects not only the understanding that a new Danish government could not uphold the protection of the Jews, but also the perception that a German action against the Jews would definitely make future cooperation at the political level impossible. From one of his former collaborators later that day Larsen got a full report on the dramatic negotiations among the permanent secretaries: “The meeting had been quite moving, and some of the permanent secretaries, among them apparently Jespersen and one or two others, stated that if such a thing happened, they would resign. The majority, however, had gone against this idea, as they were aware that it would only create further chaos, and it was felt that that ought not to happen.”