Opening speech at European Day of Jewish Culture

Ladies and gentlemen,
Excellencies,
Our Norwegian Jewish friends, 

Thank you for inviting me to speak here today.

At the opening of the Centre for Studies of the Holocaust and Religious Minorities in Norway (the HL Centre) on Bygdøy in 2006, I asked whether a building has a soul. The reason I did so was this: How could Villa Grande, which had been Quisling’s home, house an institution for Holocaust studies? My point was then – as it is now – that buildings are marked by their history, they have a soul, as it were; but that is the people who use a building at any given time that give it its meaning, by bringing to it their aspirations and values.

Just as Norwegian Jews have brought their history and culture, their traditions and stories to Norway. This has made Norway stronger.

Yes, buildings have a history, and they have a soul – as we sense so clearly here today.

We are gathered here today at the Oslo Jewish Museum, in the heart of the most multicultural, multireligious part of Oslo – and of Norway – to celebrate the European Day of Jewish Culture 2011. 

Here in Calmeyers gate, in this very block, there is a mosque, several churches, a former synagogue like this one, cafés serving international dishes, shops selling goods from Asia, Africa, the Middle East, people of many different nationalities speaking many different languages. We are at the cultural heart at the core of our capital city. This is Norway today.

Buildings have a history, they tell a story. This building housed a synagogue for 21 years, from 1921 to 1942. Twenty one years of religious and cultural activity.

1921: That’s exactly 90 years ago, a difficult year in Europe. Memories of the horrors of World War I shrouded the whole continent like a frozen fog. Our own Fridtjof Nansen laid the groundwork for a completely new kind of international cooperation. He helped millions of soldiers and civilians return to their countries, and made a huge effort to combat the famine in the Soviet Union. The following year, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his work.  

1921: We see the beginnings of an economic upturn in the US – a gigantic, artificial bubble that would burst a few years later, throwing half the world into an economic depression and desperation.

Also in 1921: The seeds of a new German movement in southern Germany start to take root. Dark, totalitarian forces are gaining strength, rallying supporters and formulating their doctrines. In just a few years they will take political power and ignite a new conflagration in Europe – seeking to exterminate the Jews and other groups that don’t “fit into their system”.   

We recall 26 October 1942, when the Norwegian police arrested all Jewish men over the age of 15. Including all the men living in this building. On 26 November 1942, all Jewish women and children were arrested.

There were desperate scenes in this street and the other streets in the area, where many Jewish families lived.

The cargo ship SS Donau lay waiting just below Akershus Fortress. Nineteen Jews from Calmeyers gate 15 were arrested and deported that autumn. By the morning of 27 November, the building was empty. Of the 65 Norwegian Jews who were deported from this part of Oslo – of a total of 771 deported from Norway as a whole – only one returned. The Holocaust was a fact – total annihilation.  

A man-made disaster. The worst of it unfolded in the camps. But part of that terrible story took place here, when the Jews were arrested. When taxis and trucks drove them to the harbour. And, let us not forget, this particular link in the chain of events was the work of Norwegians.

26 November 1942: At a single stroke the Jewish community ceased to exist and was relegated to history. It’s painful to think about it. A number of stumbling stones have been embedded in the pavement in memory of the Jews from Calmeyers gate 15 who were deported and killed. This is a well-conceived memorial. You literally stumble over it and stop to think. Ruth Maier’s stone is already in place in Dalbergstien, and an additional 23 stones will be set up at seven different addresses in Oslo in a few days’ time. I hope we will see many more memorials like this in other cities and in other streets of Oslo.

I myself am reminded of our recent history by the sign on the building where I have my office, the Foreign Ministry, indicating that it used to be the Gestapo headquarters.

But, I repeat, it is the people using a building who give it its soul. Today the Section for Peace and Reconciliation has its offices right above the cellar where prisoners were tortured during the war.

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The Jews’ story is a stark account of how we are shaped by our memories.  And all that Norwegian Jews have gone through has become part of our collective memory – the collective Norwegian memory that forms the Norwegian “we”. The memory that shapes our nation, our culture, our community, our sense of solidarity.

The chapter on the Jewish people in the history of Norway is not always easy to read. The brutal fact is that there should have been many more Jews in Norway than is the case today. Only a few managed to escape, hide, survive and return to Norway. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but time does create new chapters in history’s seemingly unending narrative.

Today I would like to thank the Jews in Norway being such a distinct, aware and committed cultural force in our society. For their determination to tell their story and share their history. I would like to thank them for their commitment to young people and the elderly today, for their active efforts to disseminate their culture. I would like to thank all the volunteers who help out at the synagogue and are engaged in social work, and all those who are determined to share their culture and history not only with the young, but also with the rest of us. And for being a cultural force for the future as well.

This fine museum, which was opened three years ago, is a testimony to this determination. It is home to permanent and temporary exhibitions about Jewish life in Oslo and the rest of Norway in the past and today. About customs, rituals, symbols and traditions – Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Hanukkah and the many other festivals in the Jewish year – which you integrate into the Norwegian year. About life in this building 80 and 90 years ago, and about the everyday life of Jews living in Norway today.  

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Norway needs to see all this, to see this determination to share, to see Jewish culture as part of Norwegian culture. It is vital for a small country like Norway to bring the cultures of its minorities to light, to relate their compelling stories about identity – their customs, language, traditions, all the knowledge and impulses they bring with them from a large part of the world. Not to mention their various religious points of view.

Greater visibility fosters pride. Visibility also dispels suspicion because it shows how much we have in common, all of us who live in Norway and make up the Norwegian “we”. It highlights all that we have in common – the foundation of our society, our obligations and rights within the framework of democracy, the rule of law, human rights, human dignity and gender equality. With this as our starting point, we can live with the differences, with the diversity that actually enriches all our lives.

The Jews in Norway are a minority, a vibrant, strong minority, which I am proud to see as part of Oslo and part of Norway. Together we will create a Norway where the children and young people of Jewish families feel secure and free to be themselves, to take part in their culture. A Norway where young people look ahead with the desire and determination to create a society we are all responsible for. Where they are a proud part of the diversity that defines our country. Where Jews can pray to their God, worship in their synagogues, study their holy scriptures, share their stories.

In short: Norway is not Norwegian without the Jews and their culture.

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I believe that if we are aware of and secure about our roots, our identity, our history, we will be more confident about meeting others and better able to respect and understand them. Awareness of our own cultural heritage helps us to respect that of others. And the Oslo Jewish Museum plays an important part in this.

We are familiar with the alternative. We know that the greatest threat to a society is indifference: turning a blind eye, playing down the problems, avoiding the facts, choosing the path of least resistance. 

But this is not how the Norwegian people reacted to the events of 22 July. They responded spontaneously and clearly with solidarity, compassion, openness, and a strong commitment to upholding democracy and safeguarding our values. The very opposite of indifference.

We must hold fast to these values and strengthen them. For there are undercurrents in our society, in Norway and in Europe, that still promote discrimination and hatred, people who are still prejudiced against Jews, Muslims, gays, and the Roma. We still see signs of racism.   

This we must fight against. Not with violence, but in a lawful and orderly way, with openness, arguments, debate, and – as we see the importance of here today – with the rich narratives of different cultures. We must bring these undercurrents up into the light. We must make the anonymous participants in internet debates come forward. We must identify the leaders of the undercurrents that play down genocide, that maintain that some people are worth more than others, those who incite violence and are seeking to create a “pure” society.

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Ladies and gentlemen,

I would also like to take this opportunity to commemorate an important figure who played a major part in passing on the Jewish narrative to Norwegian society – especially to young people. Imre Hercz – Auschwitz survivor, doctor, keen participant in the public debate – died at a very old age a few days after the terrorist attacks this July. Herman Kahan told the Norwegian media that Imre Hercz was like a close brother. Indeed, his life and work merit a little museum for themselves.

Meanwhile, we who are gathered here today can see what an important role the Oslo Jewish Museum plays in preserving a valuable heritage and sharing it with the general public. Here were can experience the tension between tradition and modernity, between integration and identity, and we can use this experience to create an open society characterised by trust and tolerance.