Madam Prime Minister

Farrar Straus Giroux

Chapter One

The Sailing Trip

Inga Brynolf is twenty years old, blue-eyed and dark-haired.The young Swede is hiking her way fromStockholm to Oslo. It's July 1938. She and her boyfriend,who is leader of the Swedish chapter of Clarti,an international association of socialist intellectuals,are going to spend the summer sailing off the coast ofNorway.

She is a radical, a socialist who dreams of a comingera of justice and equality. Her mother, the Stockholmlawyer Margareta Sandberg, is also a politically activeradical and was for a time part of the group thatformed around Alexandra Kollontai, the Soviet ambassadorto Sweden. Like a real-life Nora in HenrikIbsen's A Doll's House, Margareta left her husband, thebarrister Ivar Brynolf, after five years of marriage. Hertwo small children, Inga and Lennart, were four andtwo. Margareta was twenty-four. She wanted to be alawyer herself. In the early 1930s she became the firstfemale solicitor ever to hold public office in Stockholm.

In Oslo Inga and her boyfriend are met by Gudmund Harlem,known to his friends as Gubbe, a young medical student and leaderof the Norwegian chapter of Clarti. Gubbe's girlfriend has suddenlytaken ill and can't come sailing. But Gubbe feels an obligation to go.Ola Evensen, a friend from Clarti, joins them.

During the day, there is hectic activity on board the sailboat. Thetwenty-four-foot boat has one cabin and four berths for the threemen and one woman. The quiet evenings are spent discussing socialismand visions of the new era dawning. Two pairs of eyes soonestablish a powerful contact, just looking, intensely interested ineach other.

I was conceived later that thrilling summer. And Inga would stayin Norway She decided to study law at the University of Oslo. Sheand Gubbe got married in Stockholm in the autumn. "Hurray!We're getting married today!" read Gubbe's telegraph to a friend inOslo.

I was born on the night of April 20, 1939. At the maternity wardMamma was referred to as "the dark Swede who screamed so terribly."Her labor was long and difficult. When my proud father camehome that evening to tell his friends of the great event, the radiowas on. Air Marshal Hermann Goering was speaking in Berlin onthe occasion of Adolf Hitler's fiftieth birthday. My life surely startedat a most intense moment of history, just four months before warbroke out in Europe.

In the summer of 1938 Pappa turned twenty-one and assumedcontrol of a small inheritance from his father, who died when Pappawas an infant. One hundred thousand Kroner (about $11,000) wasa lot of money in the late 1930s. Twenty-five thousand Kroner wentto the moving spirits behind a workers' encyclopedia, so they couldrealize their dream. Gubbe provided the capital and even joined thewriting team. But he also bought an apartment at Camilla Collett'sWay No. 2, "CC2," just behind the Royal Palace. The architect haddesigned the seventh floor especially for Aase Bye, the most prominentactress at the time, but when the Harlems moved in, it was putto an entirely different use. The large living room was divided toprovide an extra bedroom and the dining room was divided in two.Thus the elegant apartment became a seven-bedroom collective.

The Coming War

By Easter 1940, Mamma was pregnant again. But Pappa, determinedto show his sporty Swedish wife the beauty of the Norwegianmountains, took her on a holiday to the Jotunheimen. Iremained at home in the care of Grandma Margareta, who had traveledfrom Stockholm to look after me. But the idyll was short-lived.

The German strategic surprise attack on Norway started in theearly hours of April 9. One of the women who lived with us inCC2, another new mother, had been a volunteer against Franco inthe Spanish Civil War. She decided that her child should be sparedfuture air raids spent in the cellar. As she recalls it, "I try to get theyoung couple we are living with to dry the baby's diapers, but a futureDefense Minister [Pappa] refuses to take the matter seriously.The next morning we dispatch my baby and the young mother[Mamma] with her baby to a cabin outside of Lillehammer in a deliverytruck. That other baby, the future Prime Minister, has totravel with a suitcase full of wet diapers."

At the cabin, Mamma was determined to find out what had happenedto Pappa. The following day she made the long trip down toLillehammer and back again. The Germans had already occupiedthe town and there were soldiers in the streets. She discovered thatPappa was with the Director General of Public Health, Dr. KarlEvang. They were with members of the government as the Norwegiandefense campaign began to emerge. The improvised Norwegiandefense managed to resist for two months and even gave theGermans their first tactical defeat of the war at Narvik. Mamma decidedto go to Stockholm and hand me over for safekeeping to hermother. Shortly afterward she traveled north through Sweden andFinland to join Pappa, who was now already in Tromsx.

At the border she ran into problems-no one could quite makeout the purpose of her journey. She had to call Dr. Evang inTromsx. Once he confirmed her identity, she was allowed to pass.

On June 7 King Haakon and his government were forced to leaveNorway. Largely by chance, Mamma and Pappa did not travelwith the convoy to England. At the last moment Dr. Evang decidedthat they should return to Oslo and work for the Resistance at theUniversity.

Several weeks passed while I was left in the care of my grandmother;I even learned to walk. When Mamma opened the door tofind me playing on the floor, I rose and ran to greet her. But I didnot easily forgive the separation: It took months before I would allowMamma out of my sight again.

For the first two years of the war, daily life continued in more orless normal fashion, but food was in short supply, and heatingproved problematic in the severe winters. My parents continuedtheir studies even as they became involved in illegal activities.Mamma worked on the publication of the newspaper Free TradeUnion. At all hours the smell of correcting fluid wafted from one ofthe two rooms that made up the original dining room in CC2. Thetypewriter had to be kept hidden. My parents did not even knowthe names of those to whom they delivered the paper. All precautionswere taken to minimize the risk of the networks beingexposed.

We froze that winter. The temperature indoors was often as lowas 50 degrees Fahrenheit. My father sewed sleeping bags for me andmy little brother, Erik. Made out of old wool blankets, the sleepingbags itched. After the war they remained on a shelf down in one ofthe basement lockers for many years. You never know, after all.

Arrest and Flight

In 1942 the occupying forces were tightening their grip. Several ofthe students active in the CC2 group were instructed to assist agroup of Norwegian Jews who needed to go into hiding to avoidbeing transported to Germany. CC2 was a dangerous address tohave. People came and went. Strangers often stayed overnightwith us.

In autumn 1943 relations between the Nazi authorities and theUniversity deteriorated and on the night of October 15 the policearrested fifty students and ten professors. This action would haveserious repercussions for the CC2 student group.

The Norwegian Nazi police came in the early hours of the morning.They had warrants for the arrest of two of the students. Bothwere taken. They did not discover my father sleeping in the sameroom. Nor did they ask for him by name, so presumably his namewas on a different list. He at once made his way down the narrowfire escape.

Half an hour later the German police, the Gestapo, came. Thistime they wanted Gudmund Harlem-a bigger catch than the firsttwo. They failed to find him, so they took his young wife. Sheprotested loudly when they tried to check another room where hersister-in-law Gegga lay sleeping: "She's just a schoolgirl!"

Ola Evensen went out to look for Pappa and by some miraclefound him in a nearby side street. Ola told him that Mamma hadbeen arrested, and Pappa's first reaction was that perhaps he oughtto turn himself in. Ola disagreed. Pappa was the one they reallywanted for his activities as an organizer of illegal resistance workamong the students.

Pappa went into hiding in Ola's mother's house. A few hours latermy mother was released. She had Swedish parents, and the Germansset store by their good relationship with the Swedish authorities;it was not the first time the accident of my mother's birthrighthad come to my parents' assistance.

Now they had to make their way to Sweden as quickly as possible.

Earlier that year, my Grandma Margareta had managed to get adiplomat's passport and travel papers that enabled her to retrieveErik and me and take us on the train from Norway back to Stockholm.

Grandma had her work as a solicitor to take care of, so Erikand I were sent to a children's home just outside the city. Westayed there for almost five months. Erik was just three years old; Iwas four.

Mamma and Pappa remained in hiding during those cold autumnweeks and had to keep on the move all the time, equippingthemselves with forged papers. At one point Pappa's sister Gegga receiveda message to meet them and bring a backpack with a few oftheir clothes. As Mamma and Pappa were cycling, they werestopped by a German patrol because Pappa was wearing the backpack.Incredibly, he was not taken in for questioning. A few dayslater, they were finally able to board the train to Rena, a village closeto the Norwegian-Swedish border. Tension was high. Would theybe stopped? They were ostensibly going northeast to cut timber.

On the last section of their journey, their guide left them; in thefirst snowfall of the winter he was afraid the escape route would bediscovered. Early in the morning they reached what they assumedto be Sweden and knocked on the door of a little house on theedge of the forest. As the door was opened Pappa whispered, "No,this is still Norway!" Tin cans were being used for flowerpots; thiscouldn't be Sweden. My parents held their breath, then realized thatthe people inside were just as afraid as they were. They were givendirections and soon they were across the border.

A few days later they arrived at the home to pick us up. Erik rantoward them with a beaming smile; I, however, was tooted to thespot where I stood, profoundly skeptical after having been "abandoned"for a second time. Mamma could never forget it.

Mamma and Pappa rented an apartment outside the center ofStockholm. Mamma worked in the office for refugees; Pappa wasthe camp doctor for the Norwegian police units, which were recruitedby Norwegian refugees and allowed by Swedish authoritiesto be stationed outside Stockholm. There were many Norwegianfamilies in Stockholm during the war, including the novelist JohanBorgen. Among the non-Norwegians I recall was Willy Brandt, wholater became mayor of West Berlin, Prime Minister of West Germany,and chairman of the German Social Democratic Party Anotherwas Bruno Kreisky, who became Prime Minister of Austria.Mamma can remember how unhappy Willy Brandt's wife was.She and Mamma went for long walks to talk about her maritalproblems.

In spite of everything, those war years in Stockholm were goodand safe. Money was tight, but then it was tight for everyone. Wewent to a nursery school full of the children of Norwegian refugees.Erik and I were inseparable.

Childhood Streets

May 1945: I can remember the excitement and joy, Mamma's keenanticipation-our train was bound for Norway! I waited impatiently,my nose pressed against the compartment window, lookingfor the exact moment when we would cross from Sweden into NorwayThere were no houses, just trees and woods the whole wayAnd there had been no marker in the forest when suddenly someoneexclaimed, "Now we're in Norway!"

Gradually many of the old CC2 circle returned to join us. Therewere always many adults at home, and lively discussions at which Iwas allowed to sit and listen and soak up impressions. From anearly age I had strong opinions and a large vocabulary.

My first year at school was exciting. But I was really not a verygood little girl. Unlike some of my classmates, I was allowed tobring friends home with me. I was so proud and happy to be ableto show off my new baby brother, Lars, a child of peacetime born inFebruary 1946. And I had even more to offer: using my father'smedical textbooks in gynecology and obstetrics, I would explain tothe other girls how the whole business worked!

I was full of ideas and energy and would enlist Erik in all sorts ofdownright mischief. We tormented the old ladies who lived in ourbuilding, hiding and teasing. I remember once in particular, notlong after we came home from Sweden, Erik and I stood on thefirst-floor landing and shouted down to an elderly lady who hadscolded us, "You silly old bag!"

I was always the ringleader.

When we lived in Sweden I had a friend named Sxlvi. Now herfamily had moved into one of the new apartment buildings in centraleast Oslo. Sxlvi's father was the caretaker at the Labor House inOslo. Eventually most communities had such a house consisting ofoffices and meeting facilities for the movement.

During that first year we visited each other almost every Sunday,riding the trolley across town. It was very exciting to travel by ourselves.That fall we both began at Progress Group, a Labor-inspiredorganization for children, with branches all over the country. I enjoyedmyself in Progress Group's central branch, not least becauseof our Sunday rambles in forests east and south of Oslo. PrimeMinister Einar Gerhardsen and his wife, Werna, lived on a nearbyblock, and he would sometimes join us.

Their daughter was my group leader; she was a couple of yearsolder than me. Their son and I were the same age and were sweeton each other. Werna was a woman who commanded respect andwe children were a little afraid of her. She was an energetic leaderwith a ready smile, but she was strict. I heard her discussing politics,too, and I understood that she really meant what she said. Shehad no doubts. Werna was on the Oslo school board, as was my father.

At the National Hospital

Pappa and I climbed the dark, broad stairway to the children'sclinic at the National Hospital. Mamma and Pappa had explainedthat I had to go to the hospital for a few days so they could try tofind out what was wrong with my stomach.

It was autumn. I was six and a half years old.

I carried a grown-up briefcase with books, paper, and coloredpencils.



Continues...
Excerpted from Madam Prime Ministerby Gro Harlem Brundtland Copyright © 2004 by Gro Harlem Brundtland. Excerpted by permission.
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