A Monument To Tolerance
And a Glaring Example of a No-Go Area in Denmark
by Norman Berdichevsky (July 2008)
I recently returned from a short trip to Denmark. I spent a week on the island of Funen and a week in Copenhagen. In nearby Faaborg, a charming town with a beautifully  preserved medieval city-gate (photo), just twenty miles to the North of Svendborg on Funen’s western coast, I spent a lovely day and had occasion to see testimony to Denmark’s long and admirable (indeed the word “glorious” is hardly out of place in comparison with the rest of Europe) record of tolerance, human rights and democratic traditions while in Copenhagen what I saw was a contemporary scene that filled me with dread and apprehension.
How ironic indeed when Denmark suddenly was catapulted into world headlines by the publication of a few cartoons in the newspaper Jyllands-Posten. Gentle and ironic satire which many Americans no doubt recognized in the wit of Victor Børge, has long been a Danish art form dating back at least to the many short stories (“Fairy Tales“) by Hans Christian Andersen and used with great success against the Nazis when armed resistance seemed suicidal and hopeless. The object of those satirical cartoons was the political misuse of Islam by extremists and suicide bombers who have carried their fanaticism into the heart of Europe, a claim that has been verified hundreds of times in dozens of locations over the past decade.
Nevertheless, reaction to world wide Muslim hysteria and attacks on Denmark, Danes and Danish products of many of the Western media was ambivalent and reminded many Danes how little the outside world cared in 1864 or 1940 when Denmark became the victim of brutal aggression. This time however, the usual words of sympathy were mixed with condemnation by those, like the appeasers to Hitler in the 1930s who hoped that if others could be fed to the crocodile, it would grow satiated or they would be eaten last.
Ignorance of Denmark’s history and traditions extend to elementary geography. The cartoons in Jyllands-Posten were published in Aarhus (Denmark’s second largest city) NOT Copenhagen, as wrongfully reported dozens of times by much of the American press and even in Christopher Hitchens’ recent best selling book “God is Not Great” (p.281). It came as a shock, that instead of unequivocal support for an ally and highly respected member of the “international community,” many voices questioned the “wisdom” of “purposely antagonizing” Muslim fanaticism.
At times, the Danish delight in irony and a fondness for keeping a low profile have avoided or postponed taking a critical decision. Like the British, “muddling through” has often been the preferred form of dealing with a challenge or confrontation. In 1946-49, the Danish government had the chance to regain the territory of South Schleswig from Germany and could have acted to demand a referendum or simply annex the territory that had been Danish for centuries but was lost in the disastrous war of German and Austrian aggression in 1864. Although local elections in 1947 indicated that a majority of the local South Schleswig population preferred a referendum of self-determination, the typical Danish choice of avoiding confrontations led to “wiser” and “cooler heads” rejecting the opportunity. The Danish government refused the chance to regain part or all of the territory and risk a future confrontation with Germany that might one day give rise to another border dispute.
How much more remarkable is it then, that in the face of antagonistic Muslim extremism today, before which the “vaunted” (“cowardly” would be the better more accurate term) New York Times abjectly surrendered and refused to reproduce any of the Muhammad cartoons, the entire Danish press reprinted all of them in February 2008 to protest the planned assassination of Kurt Westergaard, one of the cartoonists!
My trip to Denmark was not intended for any sightseeing or for a political purpose but during my brief stay, I came face to face with two realities – one from the past when tiny Jewish communities throughout much of provincial Denmark coexisted in friendship and good will with a society that was “uni-cultural”, and the other, from today’s much vaunted and extolled “multiculturalism,” in which a relatively large community of Muslims, recent immigrants or their children, egged on by imams and agents of extremism, has taken the law into its own hands to create a parallel society.
From the latter part of the 18th century until the beginning of the twentieth, there were approximately a dozen Danish towns in which Jews lived and maintained their religious traditions and obligations and preserved a separate social identity for several generations. All of them eventually withered away due to Danish tolerance. Visible evidence of this can be seen in the provincial Jewish cemeteries and a few buildings that previously functioned as synagogues. Any visitor can observe the beautiful condition of Denmark’s ten Jewish cemeteries located outside of Copenhagen. The expense involved in their care is covered by a considerable budgetary allocation provided by the Jewish Community in Copenhagen. The local authorities in the ten towns do however regard the cemeteries as an important part of their cultural-historical heritage and several of them, like Faaborg, make prominent mention of them in their tourist literature.
Although a few researchers have examined the question, “How did the Jews disappear from the Danish provincial towns?”, the evidence does not provide a clear explanation. There was clearly no discriminatory legislation after Jews were granted full civil equality by a special ordinance issued on March 29, 1814 although some craft guilds prohibited non-Christians from becoming apprentices to learn the particular skill. Jews were a tolerated minority, about as numerous as Catholics. They enjoyed a special degree of autonomy for their own affairs and were responsible for notifying the authorities of any foreign Jew attempting to permanently settle in their community. There are only a handful of recorded conversions of Jews to Christianity in the state supported Lutheran Churches of the country. Later, when civil marriage became an alternative, it was no longer necessary for one partner to “convert” to another religion.
From the gravestone inscriptions of the two major Jewish cemeteries in Copenhagen (the earlier one dates from the end of the seventeenth century and the more modern one from 1876), it is clear that some Jews left the provincial cities towards the end of the 19th century to settle in Copenhagen where they died. It may well be that others emigrated to the Danish West Indies (today’s U.S. Virgin Islands) to pursue their business interests or back to their places of origin in Schleswig-Holstein or intermarried and just opted out.
It should be remembered that until 1864, the North German territories of Schleswig-Holstein were affiliated to the Danish Kingdom and that Jewish merchants from these two Duchies may already have been familiar with Danish law and the Danish language before they left the area of Schleswig-Holstein and adjacent parts of Germany to seek their fortune in the Kingdom proper. The growth of the railroad, expansion of Copenhagen, the loss of Norway in 1815 and the annexation of the two Duchies by Prussia and their incorporation into a united Germany in 1871 also meant reduced commercial opportunities for Jewish merchants in Denmark.
It is remarkable that each one the cemeteries still tells a unique and fascinating story of the Jewish residents of these small towns – Aalborg, Aarhus, Randers, Horsens and Fredericia on the peninsula of Jutland; Odense, Faaborg and Assens on the island of Funen, Slagelse on the Western edge of the island of Zealand (Copenhagen is located on the far Eastern edge of this island) and Maribo and Nakskov on the minor island of Lolland. Fredericia was the longest lasting Jewish community in Jutland. It was established as a model community of tolerance by the Danish King Frederick III in 1650 for both Huguenot refugees and Jews.
What we know from the written record – in the newspapers and municipal archives of the cities where Jews resided - was that they were generally held in high regard. In no town were they ever more numerous than 4% - probably in Randers about 1870 and Faaborg around 1840. There were no ghettos in any of these towns. All were geographically circumscribed and Jews residing anywhere could easily walk to a centrally located synagogue without having to “travel” by coach or horseback.
 The provincial Jewish communities that endured the longest were in Jutland at the greatest distance from Copenhagen. The last Jewish services in a local synagogue in Jutland took place in Randers in the early 1920s. There was no longer a minyan (10 adult Jewish men) to conduct services and the synagogue was torn down in 1936. In Faaborg, a synagogue was inaugurated in 1860 but closed after only one generation in 1901. In 1914, it was sold to the Freemasons who have used it ever since and it may still be seen on Klostergade (photo). The earliest Jewish residents were predominantly Sephardim (of Spanish-Portuguese ancestry), but almost all of those to arrive after 1800 were from areas in Germany, Austria and what is today Poland.
The local authorities today in Faaborg and elsewhere have provided access to the Jewish cemeteries in these small towns to visitors who must ask permission for the key to enter a locked gate. They are thus protected from the ugly possibility of vandalism. The serenity and simple beauty of each cemetery is enhanced by the pathos and beautiful poetic language of the inscriptions on many stones which are clearly legible – here are just two typical examples of those I observed and photographed.
Radaf tov vihesed ad milayat yamav, Haya tamim bidarko vesa’ad neeman libanav, Mimarom yilmadoo aylav zichut viya’amod litchiya likaytz hayamim
He pursued THE GOOD and mercy all the days of his life. He was innocent in his ways and a faithful provider for his children. From above they have vouched for him and he will stand amidst eternal life to the end of days.
 Ben arbaim shana. Nasa’ lieretz hachaym. Yado haya ptoocha lievyonim, mish’an umavteach leawniyim. Nishmato alta ma’alah vihayta shaluv minuchato. (photo)
He was 40 years old. He has gone to the land of life. His hand was open to the paupers and a faithful shield and protector of the poor. His soul has ascended to the heavens and he is at rest.
The earliest stones have Hebrew inscriptions only. The ones cited above bear a shorter inscription in Danish underneath the Hebrew text that reads……
Herunder hviler støvet…(Beneath, rests the dust of …….) or
Herunder hviler de jordiske levninger (Beneath, rests the earthly remains of….)
What strikes any modern observer with these inscriptions and those found from the same period on many Christian gravestones is the value placed on modesty, the chastity and faithfulness of women, charity and concern for the poor, the tribulations of this life and faith in some everlasting final reward or resting place. While realists and cynics may argue that these inscriptions can hardly be taken as an accurate account of the character of those whose remains are buries beneath the stones, they do highlight the goals of a generation who could not expect to live into what we would call “middle age” today. The many children’s graves and the headstones indicating that the age of death for many adults was in the early 40s bear this out.
A few of the stones relate the occupation of those buried such as watchmaker, saddlemaker, shopkeeper, ritual slaughterer, practicing physician, merchant, journalist and even “industrialist” (factory owner). Several provincial Jews were active in shipping while others were among the pioneers in establishing factories for the manufacture of potash, dyeing, tanneries, leather goods, sugar refining, cigars and chocolate. Henri Nathansen, one of Denmark’s most famous authors, was the son of Michael from Randers who, as a soldier, during the Three Years War (1848-51) against the Schleswig-Holstein rebels, won Denmark’s highest award, “Dannebrogskorset” and was fatally wounded at the decisive final battle of the war on Isted heath.
Whatever their position in society, they took solace from their hope in a life to come and believed that they and their children would be treated as equals. Whatever their rabbis might have to say about matters of personal affairs in religious observance, marriage, divorce, adoption, the most ultra-Orthodox religious Jews as well as growing reform minded and secular elements were thoroughly committed to the principle expressed by all rabbis dating from the third century A.D. in the Diaspora demanding from all Jews recognition …that Dina demalkuta dina – The law of the government IS LAW”. No Jew in Denmark could ever attempt to use an argument from Jewish religious law to escape the requirements of the Danish civil and criminal law.
Hans Christian Andersen was sent by his mother to the small Jewish school (their neighborhood where the Jews lived was the poorest section of town) when he had become the victim of bullying by classmates who ridiculed his effeminate nature and fondness for storytelling. Many years later, when a famous author, he wrote a letter expressing his gratitude to the school’s headmaster. Andersen was later shocked to find that instead of the very poor folks he had known among his Jewish neighbors as a boy in Odense, Copenhagen’s Jewish community included very wealthy families, several of whom would become his patrons in later life.
Multicultural Denmark Today
A few days after my visit to Faaborg, I was strolling through contemporary Copenhagen in the bustling Nørrebro neighborhood. I could see how a major traffic thoroughfare reserved for bus traffic only and where parking for motorists was strictly forbidden, had been expropriated as a No-Go area for “ordinary citizens” (i.e. the non-Muslim majority). The lane along a stretch of the neighborhood’s major thoroughfare, Nørrebrogade, has been taken over by parked cars that are utilized by shop owners (all Muslim) to store their wares (predominantly fruit and vegetables) or simply expropriated by “passers-by” who have illegally parked, knowing full well that the Danish police and parking officials will not uphold the law against Muslims. This is nothing less than the existence of a separate law for those who now constitute a parallel culture under protection of their own Sharia law that are off limits to all others.
A few years ago, such a development would have been unimaginable. Even taxis are forbidden to use the special bus lane reserved for “collective traffic” and drivers violating the edict are subject to stiff fines. Actually parking in the lane would have been an inconceivable affront to public order. Many American tourists still marvel at how most Danes are so law abiding that they wait an extra minute or two at crossroads where the light has not yet turned green even though there is no traffic visible on the horizon. Many motorists park in legal zones in the center of Copenhagen and pay up to 26 kroner (more than $5) an hour for the privilege. Today, any vehicles on police or fire fighting duty in several immigrant areas are accompanied by extra protection if called on to provide emergency service.
Danes returning to Copenhagen from nearby Malmø where Muslims constitute a significant proportion of the population can tell their neighbors that the Swedish police no longer use wheel-locks on illegally parked vehicles for fear of provoking a major incident among Muslim residents. Apparently Denmark is still somewhat behind Sweden with regard to acknowledging a “parallel Muslim society”. The conclusion is however inescapable. The Muslim minority of immigrants and their children/grandchildren feel increasingly emboldened to act beyond the law. For the rest of the world, this presents a different picture than the “Wonderful Wonderful Copenhagen” from Danny Kay’s light hearted portrayal on film of the life of Hans Christian Andersen.
Upon my return, I read with great satisfaction on the Iconoclast column of New English Review that a Danish appeals court rejected a suit filed by seven Muslim organizations against newspaper editors who published the controversial cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed. The judges ruled that the caricatures, which have since sparked angry and in some cases, deadly protests across the Muslim world, did not aim to insult followers of Islam, as the plaintiffs had charged. Appeals court president, Peter Lilholt, stressed that the Danish judiciary, in accordance with the European Convention on Human Rights, could not "restrict freedom of expression" unless it clearly affected national or public security. The court also emphasized "that terrorist acts have been committed in the name of Islam, and it is not illegal for these acts to be made the object of satirical representation."
My week in Denmark resembled a journey in a time machine. Denmark of the mid-nineteenth century had set a marvelous example in human relations and brotherhood based on mutual respect. It was possible because a small minority had seen how it was incumbent upon them to win the respect of their neighbors. In today’s topsy-turvy world, Denmark and other nations are struggling to maintain their noble traditions and culture in the face of provocation from a militant minority that seeks to impose its will and culture/religion on the majority. This may not be the mind-set of many individual Muslims but it has been the rallying cry of extremist “Islamists” whom the majority are fearful to criticize and who use a sense of constant grievance as a battle cry and battering ram to win a special privileged position.
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