NORWAY: New Order in the North

In the sophomore days of Fascism, a favorite gag in the U. S. was the one about Il Duce warning his little King: “Emmanuel, if you don’t behave yourself I’ll take your papa’s picture off the olive-oil tins.” Not the least significant of the incredible and terrible events of last week was that this gag should come true—in another land of another King. The Germans removed the likeness of King Haakon from all tins of the little sardines which Norwegians call brislings. To a seagoing fisherfolk, brislings were a symbol.

The new masters of Norway also removed likenesses of the King’s little grandchildren from the wrappers of a candy called Kong Haakon Konfekt. Not only did the Germans find it necessary to stamp out the people’s allegiance to their King; other precautionary and repressive measures were taken last week. It was decreed that no farmer could go to the cities with out special permission from the authorities. This ruling virtually strapped thousands of loyalist Norwegians who fled the cities during the invasion. Persons unable to find employment, according to another ruling, “will be permitted to go to Germany for work”—i.e., forced labor. In Stavanger, each family “in conformity with the principles” of the Nazi Party was allotted a half-ton of coke. In other words, citizens who refused to play ball would get no fuel, and winters are cold in Norway.

Student demonstrations took place in Oslo last week against the Government of traitorous Premier Vidkun Quisling. There were nightly forays of protest, during which boys tore anti-Semitic signs from Jewish-owned shops. The Gestapo disbanded a students’ association, arrested several, threatened to close Oslo University for the winter term.

Only 2.5% of Norway’s 125,000 square miles are cultivated for food crops. Before the war the thrifty Norwegian Government laid in food reserves sufficient for a year’s consumption. But damage from bombings and requisitioning by the Germans have already nearly exhausted the reserves. It looked last week as if Norwegians might go hungry this winter. But it was certain that no real Norwegian, no matter how hungry, would ever stoop to eat a Quisling brisling.