Reykjavík Grapevine - 24.08.2012, Side 27

27
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 13 — 2012
Finally they were here, the mysterious ships of
adventure, which their mothers had awaited for
30 generations: “Sun-tanned and sea-weathered
they stepped ashore, the long-desired lovers from
afar…the young girls awoke to this sweet reality
early in the morning…their life now depended on
two things, to look as pretty as they could and to be
there as soon as possible. Dressed up, they walked
into the white sunlight of the day, wearing the
smiles they had carefully hidden until the feast of
their lives would begin, and now it had begun.” (All
translations by Grapevine)
Syphilitic strangers

Iceland’s situation is complicated. It is part neutral,
part allied, part occupied. In the summer of 1941,
everything changes again. After negotiations, the
Americans replace the British with local leaders,
so it is hard to speak of occupiers any more. Mean-
while, Hitler invades the Soviet Union and the
communists, who had initially opposed the foreign
troops, now view them as allies in the fight against
fascism.
Inevitably, Miss Butterfly becomes pregnant,
but swears off soldiers and becomes a convinced
pacifist when she learns that her lover has a wife at
home. Our hero, the poet Máni, punches a British
officer who has cuckolded him out cold and is jailed
by the British. The capitalist brother makes a pile of
money. The father of the house initially rejects his
half-British grandson, then learns to accept him,
but the infant is strangled by the insane brother in
retaliation for lack of British support in the Spanish
Civil War. The poet is sent off in chains to Britain
but is released after the Americans take over and
leaves for Russia. Miss Butterfly, ostracised by her
community and lamenting the loss of her child,
kills herself.
He condemns not only the occupation and the
war profiteers but also the prejudices of his coun-
trymen. In fact, according to documents that later
came to light, Prime Minister Hermann Jónasson
demanded that there would be no African-Ameri-
cans (although that was hardly the term used at the
time) among the troops sent over before he agreed
to their arrival. Jóhannes, however, describes the
worries of his countrymen thusly:
A man came from the south and had something
novel to add: black babies were being born in the
hospitals of the capital and their dark fathers bore
vicious social diseases. It followed that the Bolshies
were advocating this mixing of colours because of
their internationalism. Perhaps they also saw it
as their duty, since most of the negroes were de-
scendants of slaves. Upon receiving this informa-
tion, every kind-hearted soul came to the inspired
conclusion that the father of Butterfly’s child was
a pitch black barbarian, on his last legs due to syphi-
lis, and that the girls’ brother, the communist Máni
Mýsingur, had arranged it all on orders from Mos-
cow.
“Oh, darling, jú ar só pen!”
Another piece on ástandið, which appeared two
years after the end of the war, is called, intrigu-
ingly, ‘Félagi kona’ (“Comrade Woman”). It was
written by leading writer of the time Kristmann
Guðmundsson, who is best known for his romanc-
es and sometimes called, “The D.H. Lawrence of
the North.” Here, we have another young-ish poet
cuckolded by “the guests.” Over a bottle of whisky,
the two sides nevertheless manage to find common
ground as the poet Eggert Hansson sits down with
a philosopher-soldier:
And the philosopher said dreamily: “Oh, I have
travelled the world and never seen such beautiful
women. But they have no heart!”
“They are like the country,” Eggert said. “Ice on
top, fire below.”
Feature | History
Continues over
Prisoners Of LoveBy Valur Gunnarsson
Icelandic men did not take the attention local
women lavished on foreigners lying down.
In 1941, the Minister of the Judiciary set up a
special committee to investigate what had by
now become known as ‘ástandið’ (“the situa-
tion”). The committee asked the police what
they knew, and were duly presented with a list
of more than 500 women between the ages 12
and 61 who were suspected of having dealings
with the troops. The chief of police added in the
report, “this number can probably be multiplied
fivefold.” Not only that, but 255 children were
found to have been born as a result of these liai-
sons. While the committee admitted that some
of these relationships were legitimate engagements, it noted that many of the
women were of “surprisingly low moral character.”
Why police decided to investigate something that was not against the law
didn’t seem to have troubled anyone very much, but the laws were soon pro-
vided. The remedy would be to sentence straying adolescents to be locked up in
institutions. Following the publishing of the report, two such institutions were
opened in 1942, one in Reykjavík and the other one in Borgarfjörður. Another law
mandated everyone over the age of 12 to carry a passport to be presented to the
police when asked. Many disputed the findings of the report. It was pointed out that the commit-
tee consisted of three men and no women, and that little distinction was made
between war brides and prostitutes. The US Army set up its own commission
whose findings were less severe. A suggestion made by local authorities that the
Army import its own prostitutes was turned down by the Americans.
The institutions in Borgarfjörður and Reykjavík were both closed in 1943. The
ástandið hysteria seems mostly to have abated by then or at least no longer
deemed to be an issue for officers of the law and, in any case, the number of
soldiers in the country was declining. By the end of the war, 332 Icelandic women
had had married foreign soldiers according to Hrafn Jökulsson and Bjarni Guð-
marsson’s book, ‘Ástandið.’

After tripartite negotiations, American
troops take over from the British on
July 7 despite being neutral in the war.
Einar Olgeirsson and the other prison-
ers are returned home and Hitler’s
invasion of Russia brings an end to
the socialist’s protests against the
Allies. On December 7, Pearl Harbour
is bombed by the Japanese and the
United States formally enters the war.
Iceland forms its first foreign ministry
and Sveinn Björnsson is elected

Regent of Iceland in place of the King
of Denmark. The government ignores
planned elections, citing the uncertain
situation.
A committee is set up by the Minister
of the Judiciary to investigate relations
between Icelandic women and foreign
soldiers.
1942
In early autumn, the number of
American soldiers reaches its peak at
60,000.
Two institutions meant to house
women who have been “corrupted” are
opened.
The government collapses and
Sveinn Björnsson sets up an out-
of-Parliament administration. The
new government wants to declare
independence, but is talked out of this
by US authorities.
1943
The institutions for “corrupted”
women are closed.
The Allies start winning the Battle of
the Atlantic, and also in North Africa
and on the Eastern Front. Troop num-
bers in Iceland decline and worries
about ástandið lessen.
Keflavík airport, constructed by the
Americans and still in use, is opened.
1944
Allies invade Normandy on June 6.
Eleven days later, Iceland declares its
independence after an almost unani-
mous vote by national referendum.
A new government is formed of both
left and right parties, and Sveinn
Björnsson becomes the nation’s first
president.
Words by
Valur Gunnars
son
Photos by
Ljósmyndasaf
n Reykjavíkur