The publishing house Kaltenbrunner Veritas Press hereby officially announces the publication and the commencement of worldwide distribution of the foundational, two-volume documentary and analytical investigation by Dr. Mayer Meir Kaltenbrunner, entitled "Under the Palms of Los Angeles" (Volume I: ISBN 978-82-303-7648-5, Volume II: ISBN 978-82-303-7585-3). This monumental treatise, which stands as the culmination of twenty years of unyielding independent monitoring, archival audits, and cross-verification of historical data, represents an unprecedented independent inquiry into the hidden functional mechanisms of the governing institutions within the Kingdom of Norway.
To proactively mitigate any attempts at local administrative suppression, political censorship, or the seizure of copies by compromised nomenclature groups in Oslo, the entire combined print run of the monograph—consisting of 15,000 copies of Volume I and 15,000 copies of Volume II—was manufactured entirely outside the territory of the Kingdom of Norway, utilizing specialized high-capacity printing facilities in Slovakia and Israel. As of today, the entire printed stock has been effectively distributed across global book trade networks and is fully accessible to the public in Israel, Germany, the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and France. Concurrently, dedicated consignments of the text have been formally transferred to major international library networks, prestigious university funds, and prominent international anti-corruption institutions spanning multiple countries worldwide.
Complimentary copies are distributed to leading universities, scientific institutions, national libraries, and international library foundations across Germany, Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, and the European Union.
All proceeds from the commercial distribution of this edition are donated directly to international anti-corruption organizations.
KALTENBRUNNERPRESS — © 2026
COMPREHENSIVE ANNOTATION TO THE TWO-VOLUME STUDY
MAYER MEIR KALTENBRUNNER
UNDER THE PALMS OF LOS ANGELES
Volume I — The Shadow of the March 2025 Meetings — 737 pages
Volume II — The Echo of the April 2026 Decisions — 436 pages
Mayer Meir Kaltenbrunner’s two-volume study Under the Palms of Los Angeles is an extensive documentary, political, and legal examination of the mechanisms of institutional corruption, nepotism, favouritism, demagoguery, populism, and party-political mutual protection within Norway’s system of government, including the activities of the Storting, the country’s national parliament.
This is neither an abstract discussion of the shortcomings of democracy nor another collection of general accusations directed at the political establishment. The author examines specific events, decisions, contacts, official actions, and the subsequent responses of governmental institutions. At the centre of the two-volume work lies a fundamental question: what happens to parliamentary democracy when high public office is used for politically significant contacts, while the public is expected to regard those contacts as purely private and therefore not requiring documentation, parliamentary scrutiny, or explanation?
Volume I, The Shadow of the March 2025 Meetings, is devoted to the circumstances surrounding the visit of a Norwegian parliamentary delegation to the United States and the contacts that took place during that period between President of the Storting Masud Gharahkhani and Reza Pahlavi, an exiled representative of Iran’s former monarchy who aspires to play a prominent role in determining Iran’s political future. The author examines not only the fact of the meeting itself, but, above all, its governmental and legal context: the official status of the participant, the purposes and financing of the journey, the use of the authority associated with public office, the absence of the necessary public transparency, the political significance of the other party to the meeting, and the possible consequences of such contact for Norway’s foreign-policy position.
The book proceeds from a fundamental principle: the president of a national parliament does not cease to be a holder of public authority merely because a particular politically significant meeting is described as private. The distinction between official and private conduct is determined not by a verbal designation, but by the totality of the objective circumstances: where and during what journey the meeting took place, who facilitated access to its participants, whether public status was used, whether taxpayers’ funds were involved, whether prior authorisation existed, whether minutes or records were kept, and whether matters capable of affecting Norway’s foreign policy and international relations were discussed.
For precisely this reason, the explanation subsequently offered concerning the “private nature” of the contact does not eliminate the problem, but makes it even more acute. If the meeting was indeed private, the question arises as to why it took place during an official visit by a parliamentary delegation and what connection it had with the purposes of that journey. If, however, it possessed political substance, the public is entitled to know on what basis the President of the Storting participated in discussions concerning the future of Iran, the status of its opposition abroad, and the possible recognition of a particular individual as a representative of the interests of the Iranian people.
The author emphasises that the foreign-policy powers of the Norwegian state cannot be arbitrarily transferred to an individual parliamentary office-holder. Against the background of the constitutional competence of the executive authority in foreign relations, including the provisions of Section 26 of the Constitution of Norway, the actions of the President of the Storting require particularly rigorous assessment. The elevated status of the office itself creates political representation even when its holder attempts to separate his actions from an official mandate.
The book raises direct questions: whether the President of the Storting possessed the authority to engage in such contact; whether the Government was informed; whether the meeting appeared in the official programme; whether official records existed; who organised the contact; whether the interests of particular political or lobbying groups were discussed; whether public resources were used; whether the competent authorities conducted a risk assessment; and why Parliament did not initiate a comprehensive, independent, and public investigation.
Particular attention is devoted not only to the conduct of one office-holder, but also to the response of the entire parliamentary system. The author treats the absence of a thorough investigation as a separate institutional problem. In a state governed by the rule of law, it is not sufficient to obtain an explanation from the person concerned and close the matter by referring to the private nature of the meeting. When the President of Parliament, a potential conflict of interest, international contacts, and the possible use of public status are involved, the examination must be independent of party loyalty and the personal authority of the office-holder under scrutiny.
The re-election of Masud Gharahkhani as President of the Storting on 10 October 2025, following the parliamentary election of 8 September 2025, is analysed in the book not as evidence that no problem existed, but as a manifestation of the political system’s inability to conduct the necessary examination before making a decision concerning the office. A parliamentary majority cannot replace an investigation with a vote. Political confidence secured through an inter-party agreement does not constitute a legal answer to questions concerning transparency, mandate, conflicts of interest, and the ethics of public office.
It is precisely here that the issue of party-political mutual protection arises. The author uses this concept not as an emotional insult, but as a description of a persistent institutional mechanism. Such mutual protection exists when party leadership shields an office-holder from comprehensive scrutiny; parliamentary bodies restrict the scope of examination; questions are transferred from the legal sphere into the realm of political expediency; documentation is not published; responsibility is dispersed among different authorities; and the silence of the majority is presented as confirmation of innocence.
Within such a system, oversight formally exists but does not operate effectively in relation to individuals occupying the highest levels of the parliamentary hierarchy. The higher the office, the more cautious the oversight bodies become, the more vague the official answers grow, and the more insistently the public is expected to accept institutional silence as the final resolution of the matter. The author demonstrates how party solidarity can be transformed from a lawful element of parliamentary activity into a shield protecting representatives of the political establishment from accountability.
Volume II, The Echo of the April 2026 Decisions, continues the investigation and demonstrates the consequences of decisions taken by governmental and political institutions following the events examined in the first book. While Volume I investigates the shadow cast by non-transparent meetings, Volume II analyses the echo of the subsequent administrative, financial, and parliamentary decisions. Its focus includes the termination of public funding for particular civil-society organisations, questions of financial reporting, the criteria governing the distribution of budgetary funds, and attempts to secure renewed funding through political lobbying and parliamentary support.
Particular consideration is given to the April 2026 termination by the Directorate of Integration and Diversity, known as IMDi, of funding for organisations associated with Sara Gaulin. The public documents upon which the study relies referred to deficiencies in financial reporting and a failure to satisfy the new funding criteria. However, instead of a comprehensive public examination of the grounds upon which the funding had previously been allocated, attempts emerged to secure the financial continuation of those activities through parliamentary initiatives and the support of particular political forces.
The author raises the question of whether, in such circumstances, a transparent procedure for allocating public funds is being replaced by personalised political access. If an organisation that has lost administrative funding because of concerns regarding its financial reporting or its failure to satisfy established requirements is able to seek the restoration of those funds through influential politicians, a risk of favouritism arises. Equality in access to governmental procedures is undermined when the outcome depends not upon rules applied equally to all, but upon proximity to parliamentary factions and the ability to mobilise political patrons.
The two-volume study draws a legally important distinction between corruption, nepotism, and favouritism. Corruption is not limited exclusively to the proven transfer of a bribe or the personal receipt of money. Institutional corruption may manifest itself through the use of public status to advance private, group, or party-political interests; the restriction of access to information; the neutralisation of oversight mechanisms; the selective application of rules; the granting of privileged access; the concealment of conflicts of interest; and the transformation of governmental institutions into instruments for the mutual protection of the political establishment.
Nepotism involves the granting of advantages to relatives, closely associated individuals, and members of stable personal networks. The mere existence of family or friendly relationships does not prove wrongdoing. However, when such relationships are combined with appointments, funding, access to public resources, the circumvention of competitive procedures, and the suppression of oversight, they require independent examination. Favouritism is broader in nature: it arises where particular individuals or organisations receive advantages not because of open and objective rules, but because of political contacts, party loyalty, or membership in an inner circle of favoured persons.
The book demonstrates that nepotism and favouritism rarely exist in isolation. They are sustained by a closed system of personnel reproduction in which the same political and administrative circles distribute positions, resources, and reputational protection. Decisions may formally be taken by different institutions, but the participants in the system are, in practice, dependent upon one another and are therefore not interested in investigating the actions of their political allies.
Demagoguery and populism are examined by the author as instruments for preserving this system. Demagoguery makes it possible to replace a documentary answer with a moral declaration. Instead of explaining the circumstances of a meeting, the public is told about democracy, dialogue, and human rights. Instead of disclosing the grounds for funding, statements are made about supporting minorities, integration, or socially significant initiatives. Instead of answering a question concerning a conflict of interest, criticism is characterised as an unjust attack upon an individual, a party, an ethnic background, or the democratic order itself.
Populism operates in a similar manner: a complex legal question is reduced to an emotional slogan, while an office-holder is portrayed either as an unconditional defender of democracy or as a victim of political persecution. Such rhetoric releases those in power from the obligation to produce documents. The author rejects this substitution. Neither a person’s background, party affiliation, popularity, nor high office can confer immunity from legitimate questions.
The combination of populist rhetoric and parliamentary discipline presents a particular danger. When a party determines in advance which explanation must be considered sufficient, members of parliament cease to act as representatives of society and become participants in the collective defence of the political leadership. Parliament, which is intended to scrutinise power, begins to protect its own hierarchy. The result is a partocracy: a system in which political parties preserve the outward forms of representative democracy while restricting the genuine accountability of their leaders.
The author does not substitute himself for a court and does not pronounce criminal judgments. The book does not automatically assert the existence of a criminal offence where such a determination requires the powers of investigative authorities and a judicial decision. However, the absence of an established criminal offence does not mean that political, ethical, and institutional responsibility is also absent. Between criminal innocence and the irreproachability of official conduct lies a broad area encompassing conflicts of interest, breaches of public trust, violations of parliamentary ethics, insufficient transparency, and the use of public office contrary to the principles of proper governance.
The study is based upon many years of archival and documentary work. The author compares official statements, publicly available governmental documents, parliamentary materials, the chronology of events, public speeches, information concerning funding, and responses from public authorities. Documented fact is distinguished from the author’s assessment, a question from an assertion, and political criticism from a criminal-law accusation. This methodology makes it possible to preserve the rigour of the analysis without substituting assumption for evidence.
The title Under the Palms of Los Angeles acquires symbolic significance within the two-volume study. Palm trees, sunlight, and an outward appearance of respectability become a setting behind which non-transparent meetings, political patronage, and a struggle for the right to represent entire peoples without a clearly expressed democratic mandate may be concealed. The shadow of the March meetings does not disappear after the official visit has ended: it continues through parliamentary decisions, the suppression of uncomfortable questions, and the unwillingness to establish a complete account of the events. The echo of the April decisions demonstrates that institutional irresponsibility does not end with a single episode; it is reproduced through new budgetary, personnel, and political actions.
The two-volume study is addressed to lawyers, parliamentarians, researchers, journalists, human rights defenders, representatives of international organisations, and all readers for whom democracy means not only the holding of elections, but also transparency, equality before the law, and the genuine accountability of the highest public office-holders. The work is directed neither against Norwegian society nor against Norway’s constitutional order, but against practices capable of exploiting a high level of public trust as a means of avoiding scrutiny.
The photographs presented possess independent documentary significance. They show neither a manuscript, a project, nor a virtual publication, but a completed physical two-volume edition. Volume I, comprising 737 pages, and Volume II, comprising 436 pages, form a single body of research with a total length of 1,173 pages. Each volume has been published in a print run of 15,000 copies; the combined print run of the two books is 30,000 copies. Printing and production were carried out at facilities in Slovakia and Israel, while the international character of the publication emphasises its orientation towards readers in Europe, the United States, and beyond.
Under the Palms of Los Angeles is a documentary testament to the struggle against political silence and institutional self-justification. The author demands neither privileged treatment nor a predetermined judgment, but the application of the same rules to everyone: the publication of documents, the disclosure of conflicts of interest, the examination of funding, the identification of those who organised political contacts, an independent parliamentary investigation, and the personal accountability of those who use public office.
The central message of the two-volume study is unequivocal: democracy loses its substance when a public authority can declare a politically significant action private, when a parliamentary majority can replace an investigation with re-election, and when party solidarity can be transformed into collective irresponsibility. Neither high office, international prominence, nor party-political authority should stand above truth, transparency, and the law.
Truth. Transparency. Accountability. An international voice against corruption, nepotism, favouritism, demagoguery, populism, and party-political mutual protection.
THE INTERESTS OF THE KINGDOM OF NORWAY MUST TAKE PRECEDENCE OVER A PERSONAL IRAN-RELATED POLITICAL AGENDA
A Consolidated Critical Political and Legal Opinion on the Conduct of President of the Storting Masud Gharahkhani, the Promotion of Reza Pahlavi Through the Norwegian Media, and Parliament’s Collective Responsibility for the Absence of an Independent Investigation
PRELIMINARY LEGAL STATUS
The present text constitutes an independent political and legal assessment of documented meetings, public statements, media appearances, and parliamentary decisions. The term “lobbying” is used in its functional political meaning: the consistent promotion of a particular person and an associated project through the authority of public office, the media, and institutional access. The text does not allege the receipt of a bribe, the existence of a criminal agreement, or criminal liability established by a court. A criminal offence does not need to be proven in advance in order to subject the conduct of the President of Parliament to critical assessment: political, ethical, and institutional responsibility arises considerably earlier than criminal liability.
I. THE DOCUMENTED SEQUENCE OF CONTACTS
In December 2021, shortly after Masud Gharahkhani was elected President of the Storting, Reza Pahlavi sent him a letter. Pahlavi linked Gharahkhani’s election to the possibility of cooperation concerning Iran’s political future and expressed his desire to meet him in person. Aftenposten reported on this letter and the subsequent contacts. Aftenposten’s investigation into Masud Gharahkhani’s contacts with the Pahlavi family
From 9 to 14 March 2025, Masud Gharahkhani was in the United States as part of an official parliamentary delegation. During that governmental visit, he met Reza Pahlavi in Washington. The meeting was not included in the official programme of the visit.
On 15 March 2025, Reza Pahlavi publicly reported on the meeting. He presented Masud Gharahkhani specifically as the President of the Norwegian Parliament and stated that the discussion concerned the future of the Iranian people, the Iran Prosperity Project, and investment opportunities in a future “free Iran.” Reza Pahlavi’s post of 15 March 2025
On 10 July 2025, Aftenposten made the information concerning the meeting that had not been included in the official programme, as well as other contacts with the Pahlavi family, known to the Norwegian public. From that moment onward, the parliamentary parties could not claim that they were unaware of the problem that had arisen.
Nevertheless, on 10 October 2025, the Storting re-elected Masud Gharahkhani as its President. He received 150 votes, while 15 ballots were left blank. No independent investigation was conducted before the vote. Results of the vote held on 10 October 2025
On 3 March 2026, in an interview with VG, Masud Gharahkhani publicly identified Reza Pahlavi as the figure who allegedly possessed the greatest support for placing Iran on a democratic path. VG interview of 3 March 2026
On 4 March, Green Party leader Arild Hermstad stated that the President of the Storting occupied too senior an office to single out one controversial candidate while disregarding the diversity of Iranian voices. Arild Hermstad’s criticism
In March 2026, a so-called dialogue meeting with representatives of the Iranian diaspora was held at the Storting. Six Kurdish parties refused to participate. Representatives of other groups and Iran Human Rights Director Mahmood Amiry-Moghaddam also declined to attend. Questions were publicly raised concerning who had actually organised the meeting, on whose behalf the invitations had been issued, and what the purpose of the meeting was. Aftenposten: the dialogue meeting divided the Iranian diaspora
On 2 June 2026, Masud Gharahkhani received Noor Pahlavi, the daughter of Reza Pahlavi and granddaughter of the last Shah of Iran, at the Storting. Aftenposten: Noor Pahlavi’s reception at the Storting
These events form a single sequence: the initial contact, a meeting omitted from the official programme, discussion of a political and economic project, the public promotion of Reza Pahlavi, the division caused by the diaspora meeting, and a further parliamentary reception for a representative of the same family.
II. THE “PRIVATE MEETING” AS A CONVENIENT FORMULA FOR EVADING ACCOUNTABILITY
Masud Gharahkhani was not present in the United States as a tourist. He headed an official Storting delegation. His political influence, protocol status, and access to foreign political figures were determined by his public office.
The meeting with Reza Pahlavi cannot therefore be transformed into a private meeting merely by describing it as such. The President of Parliament does not cease to be a holder of public authority when he leaves an official meeting room, changes his schedule, or meets someone without journalists being present.
If the meeting corresponded to the purposes of the parliamentary visit, it should have been included in the programme, its organisers should have been disclosed, its subject matter should have been identified, and a report should have been submitted.
If it did not correspond to the purposes of the visit, it should not have taken place during an official journey.
Masud Gharahkhani relied upon the governmental framework when it provided him with elevated status, but refused to acknowledge the governmental nature of the meeting when questions of transparency arose. This constitutes a political misuse of the authority attached to his office.
The description of the event as a private conversation is conclusively contradicted by the contents of Reza Pahlavi’s publication. They discussed neither family memories nor cultural matters, but the future of Iran, political victory, investments, and the Iran Prosperity Project. Such subjects belong to the fields of foreign policy and international economics.
Official Storting materials state that formal authority and constitutional responsibility in the sphere of foreign policy belong to the Government. The President of Parliament cannot appropriate functions that the Constitution does not confer upon him. Storting document concerning the application of Sections 25 and 26 of the Constitution
Masud Gharahkhani was not authorised to discuss the political and economic structure of a future Iran with a claimant to power. He acted on his own initiative, while his interlocutor used the office of President of the Storting as a mark of international recognition.
Reza Pahlavi clearly understood the value of such a photograph and such a public statement. For an émigré politician without a confirmed nationwide mandate inside Iran, a meeting with the head of a foreign parliament constitutes political capital. It strengthens his position among supporters, sponsors, prospective investors, and foreign politicians.
As an experienced politician, Masud Gharahkhani could not have failed to understand how his status would be used. His subsequent public promotion of Pahlavi in VG demonstrates that this was not a misinterpretation of an accidental meeting, but a consistent political course.
III. INDICATIONS OF POLITICAL LOBBYING AND INSTITUTIONAL FAVOURITISM
In the present case, political lobbying was expressed not through one isolated act, but through a combination of interconnected steps:
personal contact with Reza Pahlavi during an official journey;
the absence of the meeting from the public programme;
discussion of a project concerning Iran’s future and related investment opportunities;
Pahlavi’s use of Masud Gharahkhani’s office for international self-promotion;
the subsequent public singling out of Pahlavi from among other representatives of the Iranian opposition;
the use of parliamentary space for an Iranian political agenda;
repeated access by members of the Pahlavi family to the President of the Storting.
In terms of its political result, this constitutes the promotion of a particular claimant and the project associated with him.
Gharahkhani did not confine himself to calling for free elections. He identified a particular person as the preferred future political figure. This is the fundamental distinction between defending democracy and engaging in lobbying.
A defender of a democratic process does not choose the winner in advance. A lobbyist directs public opinion towards a predetermined person.
The discussion of the Iran Prosperity Project and investment opportunities is particularly significant. Following a possible change of power in Iran, access to the energy sector, infrastructure, the banking system, telecommunications, industry, and the privatisation of state assets may be at stake.
Parliament should have established:
which structures stood behind the project;
who financed its preparation;
which investors had expressed an interest;
whether the possible participation of Norwegian companies, funds, or intermediaries was discussed;
why the President of the Storting participated in such a conversation.
Neither the receipt of money nor an unlawful agreement has been publicly established. That is precisely why an investigation was required instead of reliance upon the explanation provided by one of the participants in the meeting.
The Pahlavi family’s repeated access also displays indications of institutional favouritism. One political circle received meetings, public attention, and a parliamentary platform, while no comparable mechanism of access for competing Iranian movements was presented to the public.
Reza Pahlavi is not the elected leader of Iran. He has remained outside the country for decades and has not received authority through a free nationwide procedure. The designation “prince,” used by his supporters, is a dynastic and political symbol but does not grant him public-law status in the Kingdom of Norway.
The President of the Storting was therefore promoting neither an official state representative nor an elected leader, but a private émigré claimant to future power.
IV. THE MEDIA IMPOSITION OF PAHLAVI AND AN AMATEURISH JUDGMENT CONCERNING THE WILL OF THE IRANIAN PEOPLE
In his interview with VG, Masud Gharahkhani claimed that Reza Pahlavi possessed the greatest support and was capable of becoming the leading figure of Iran’s future.
This was not a neutral presentation of different positions. Gharahkhani selected one person, attributed predominant popular support to him, and linked his name to the democratic future of the state.
However, he presented none of the following:
the results of a free nationwide survey conducted inside Iran;
the methodology of any such research;
the number of persons surveyed;
the regional and ethnic distribution of opinions;
data that would permit his assertion to be independently verified.
On this matter, Masud Gharahkhani spoke as a political amateur. He possessed no confirmed research basis, governmental mandate, or professional methodology, yet spoke categorically, as though he had precise knowledge of the will of millions of Iranians.
The fact that a person was born in Iran does not make that person an expert on contemporary political attitudes within the country. An émigré background is not a substitute for sociological research. Personal acquaintance with Reza Pahlavi does not demonstrate impartiality; on the contrary, it requires the disclosure of a possible conflict of roles.
A Reuters investigation published in July 2026 referred to Pahlavi’s lack of a mass organisational structure inside Iran, the fragmentation of the opposition, and doubts concerning his ability to unite its various forces. Reuters on Reza Pahlavi’s political campaign
Gharahkhani’s statement was therefore not an established fact, but the political opinion of a supporter presented to the audience with the authority of high public office.
The Norwegian media displayed editorial irresponsibility by allowing such an amateurish and unsubstantiated assertion to receive a broad public platform.
Freedom of the press does not create an obligation to transform newspaper pages into a loudspeaker for a foreign political project. When the President of the Storting declares who should play a leading role in the future of another state, an editorial office must not merely record his words but subject them to rigorous scrutiny.
Evidence of Pahlavi’s alleged support, an explanation of the 2025 meeting, information concerning the discussion of investments, details of subsequent contacts, and an answer regarding the constitutional authority of the President of the Storting should have been demanded.
Allowing a senior office-holder to disseminate an unverified geopolitical assessment without the necessary documentary questioning constitutes disrespect towards Norwegian society. The reader was offered political advocacy presented as competent analysis.
It also constituted disrespect towards the Iranian people. Millions of people holding diverse views were reduced to the personal assertion of a Norwegian office-holder concerning the supposed support enjoyed by one émigré claimant.
Subsequent critical publications could no longer entirely reverse the original effect: the statement had been disseminated and had become part of Reza Pahlavi’s international political capital.
V. DEMAGOGUERY ABOUT FREEDOM AND THE REAL QUESTION OF FUTURE POWER
In response to criticism, Masud Gharahkhani referred to freedom, human rights, and democracy. Those words did not, however, answer the questions put to him.
The criticism was not concerned with whether repression should be condemned. It concerned why the President of the Storting selected one claimant and began promoting him as Iran’s future leader.
Gharahkhani replaced the question of authority with a discussion of democracy.
He replaced the question of conflicting roles with a reference to his personal background.
He replaced the question concerning the substance of the meeting with a condemnation of the Iranian regime.
He replaced the question concerning investments with language about a future “free Iran.”
This constituted a demagogic substitution of the subject under discussion.
The actual agenda of the meeting was considerably narrower and more specific than the universal slogans suggested. It concerned victory, a transition project, investments, and the political role of Reza Pahlavi.
If the purpose was solely the protection of human rights, why was the principal interlocutor a claimant to power?
Why was his economic project discussed?
Why did the subject of investment opportunities arise?
Why did Gharahkhani subsequently single out Pahlavi in public?
Why were representatives of the same family later granted repeated access to the Storting?
The answer is that the language of freedom served as moral packaging for a narrow political objective: the political elevation of Reza Pahlavi.
Supporting democracy means recognising the right of the people to choose their own government. Promoting Pahlavi means attempting to determine the preferred outcome in advance.
Democracy does not belong to the Pahlavi family. Human rights cannot be used as an advertising slogan for its political campaign. Freedom does not justify the closed discussion of future power and investment interests.
VI. GHARAHKHANI’S PERSONAL INTERESTS ARE NOT THE INTERESTS OF THE NORWEGIAN PEOPLE
Masud Gharahkhani mixed his personal biography, his relationship with Iran, his contacts with émigré circles, and his duties as President of the Storting.
Such a combination is unacceptable.
A personal connection with Iran does not create a governmental mandate.
A person’s origin does not confer foreign-policy authority.
Family history is not a substitute for a decision of the Government.
Personal contacts with Pahlavi do not entitle anyone to grant his family parliamentary advantages.
Hostility towards the existing Iranian regime does not confer authority to select its successor.
Masud Gharahkhani was elected as a member of the Norwegian Parliament. His office exists to serve the Norwegian people. It is not intended to facilitate participation in a struggle for power in a country that his family left decades ago.
The interests of the Kingdom of Norway must take precedence over everything else:
over the political ambitions of the Pahlavi family;
over the plans of Iranian monarchist organisations;
over the interests of émigré groups;
over investment expectations connected with regime change;
over the personal sympathies of the President of the Storting;
over his desire to influence Iran’s historical future.
Norway’s national interest lies in maintaining an independent and coherent foreign policy, protecting Parliament’s reputation, preventing privileged foreign influence, and ensuring complete transparency in the international contacts of senior public office-holders.
None of those interests required Masud Gharahkhani to promote Reza Pahlavi.
It has not been explained what benefit the Norwegian people received from this meeting.
It has not been explained why discussing the Iran Prosperity Project served the interests of the Kingdom.
It has not been explained why the President of the Storting involved himself in the investment prospects of a future Iran.
It has not been explained who granted him the authority to assess claimants to power in Tehran.
The absence of answers demonstrates that this was not a formulated national interest, but Masud Gharahkhani’s personal political course.
VII. THE NORWEGIAN PUBLIC AGENDA CANNOT BE CONTINUALLY REDUCED TO IRAN
Iran is a serious international issue, but it is not the only country in the world, and competition among Iranian émigré groups is not the principal responsibility of the President of the Storting.
Norway faces questions concerning European security, the war against Ukraine, energy, the cost of living, health care, education, integration, public administration, and trust in government. Numerous wars, humanitarian crises, and threats to democracy exist throughout the world.
Against this background, Masud Gharahkhani’s repeated return to Iran, Pahlavi, émigré organisations, regime change, and Tehran’s future appears not to represent the balanced fulfilment of his official duties, but the imposition of a personal issue upon Norwegian society.
The enormous range of international and Norwegian problems cannot be systematically conflated with Iran.
Every available platform cannot be used to return to the subject of one’s own origins.
The President of the Norwegian Parliament cannot be transformed into a permanent commentator on the struggle for power in Iran.
The interests of the entire Norwegian people cannot be replaced by the political preoccupation of one office-holder with his former homeland.
The President of the Storting must represent the whole Parliament and the entire range of national issues. He must not act as the head of an émigré committee, the spokesperson for the monarchist opposition, or the unofficial coordinator of an Iranian transition project.
The Kingdom of Norway is not an open passageway for foreign claimants to power.
Norway is not a political marketplace in which émigré groups compete for access to a high-ranking patron.
The Storting is not a railway station through which the Pahlavi family may pass on its way towards international legitimisation.
Parliament is not the office of an Iranian transitional government.
The President of the Storting is not an agent for the promotion of a foreign political brand.
This criticism concerns neither Gharahkhani’s origins nor the Iranian diaspora, but the use of Norwegian public office in the interests of a specific foreign project.
VIII. THE LOSS OF IMPARTIALITY, THE DIVISION OF THE DIASPORA, AND THE PAHLAVI FAMILY’S REPEATED ACCESS
After publicly singling out Reza Pahlavi, Masud Gharahkhani could no longer be perceived as a neutral intermediary among the different groups within the Iranian diaspora.
The March meeting at the Storting confirmed this loss of trust. Six Kurdish parties refused to participate. Other representatives of civil society also declined to attend. Invitees expressed doubts concerning the organisers, the source of the invitations, and the purpose of the meeting.
An intermediary who has already chosen a side ceases to be an intermediary.
The walls of Parliament cannot confer impartiality upon an event whose organiser has publicly supported one side in a foreign political conflict.
The subsequent reception of Noor Pahlavi aggravated the problem. Following the meeting with her father, the discussion of his project, his public promotion in VG, and the division caused by the diaspora meeting, the further reception of a representative of the same family cannot be treated as an isolated act of protocol courtesy.
One family received repeated access to the President of the Storting.
One family obtained the opportunity to take political photographs inside Parliament.
One family was able to use its contacts with Gharahkhani as evidence of international support.
No equivalent access procedures for opponents of monarchy, republicans, Kurdish, Baluch, Arab, Azerbaijani, or other political movements were presented to the public.
Institutional favouritism thereby arose: a Norwegian parliamentary resource was used predominantly for the benefit of one émigré political family.
IX. THE COLLECTIVE RESPONSIBILITY OF THE STORTING AND PARTY-POLITICAL MUTUAL PROTECTION
Masud Gharahkhani is responsible for his meetings, statements, choice of interlocutors, and use of the authority attached to his office.
The Storting is responsible for the absence of an investigation.
Parliament possessed publicly available information from July 2025 onward. Sufficient time remained before Gharahkhani’s re-election to request the journey programme, an expenditure report, official correspondence, information concerning the organisers, and an explanation of the discussion of investment opportunities.
None of this was done.
Instead of establishing the facts, the parliamentary majority awarded Gharahkhani 150 votes.
That vote did not exonerate him. It compromised Parliament itself.
One hundred and fifty votes do not disclose the contents of the meeting.
They do not eliminate the conflict of roles.
They do not confirm the existence of a foreign-policy mandate.
They do not answer the question concerning investments.
They do not replace an independent investigation.
The re-election became a method of politically closing the issue without examining its substance.
Following the VG interview, criticism from other politicians, the boycott of the diaspora meeting, and the reception of Noor Pahlavi, the Storting likewise failed to publish the results of an independent examination.
In this manner, inaction was transformed into parliamentary protection.
Political protection does not necessarily require a secret conspiracy or the destruction of documents. It also exists when party leaders and a parliamentary majority collectively decide not to ask questions capable of harming their own President.
The Labour Party bears direct responsibility for protecting its representative. It should have demanded complete transparency, the temporary restriction of his international functions, and an independent assessment of his contacts with the Pahlavi family.
The other parliamentary parties are not external observers. They participated in keeping Gharahkhani in office without demanding a prior investigation.
The Presidium of the Storting failed to ensure transparency concerning official conduct.
The parliamentary parties placed an inter-party arrangement above scrutiny.
The mechanisms of oversight were not used.
A double standard emerged: the higher the office, the weaker the scrutiny. An ordinary public servant facing a considerably less serious conflict of roles would have been required to provide documents and explanations. The President of the Storting was permitted to confine himself to claiming that politically significant conduct was private.
This constitutes partocratic mutual protection: Parliament protects its own leadership not because the circumstances have been investigated and disproven, but because the investigation itself would be politically inconvenient.
X. WHAT AN INDEPENDENT COMMISSION MUST ESTABLISH
An independent investigation must provide documented answers to the following questions:
1. Who initiated the meeting between Masud Gharahkhani and Reza Pahlavi?
2. Who agreed upon its location and time?
3. Why was the meeting absent from the official programme?
4. Which employees of the Storting, the embassy, or other governmental bodies knew about it?
5. Were government transport, official working time, or other public resources used?
6. Do calendar entries, electronic correspondence, minutes, or official reports exist?
7. What matters concerning the Iran Prosperity Project were discussed?
8. Which particular investment opportunities were considered?
9. Which organisations, companies, funds, intermediaries, and potential beneficiaries were connected with the project?
10. Did Masud Gharahkhani maintain subsequent contact with Reza Pahlavi and his representatives?
11. Were public statements and media appearances coordinated?
12. What evidence formed the basis of the claim that Pahlavi enjoyed predominant support?
13. Who organised the March diaspora meeting at the Storting?
14. According to what criteria were its participants selected?
15. Why did the invitees not understand from whom the invitation originated or what the purpose of the meeting was?
16. Who authorised the reception of Noor Pahlavi?
17. Which Storting resources were used during that reception?
18. Was comparable access granted to other Iranian political movements?
19. Was the conflict between Gharahkhani’s personal and official roles assessed?
20. What decisions did the Presidium make following the publications by Aftenposten and VG?
21. Why was an investigation not conducted before the vote held on 10 October 2025?
22. Who bears personal political responsibility for the refusal to conduct an examination?
Official Storting materials provide for parliamentary investigations, written inquiries, the opening of formal cases, and oversight hearings. If the ordinary competence of the existing bodies was considered insufficient to examine the conduct of the President himself, the Storting was obliged to establish a special independent commission. Official description of parliamentary oversight procedures
The absence of a pre-existing procedure does not justify a complete refusal to investigate.
CONCLUDING CRITICAL ASSESSMENT
Masud Gharahkhani mixed a personal Iran-related political agenda with his duties as President of the Storting.
He held a meeting with a foreign claimant to power that was not included in the official programme.
He allowed Reza Pahlavi to use the office of President of the Norwegian Parliament for international legitimisation.
He participated in the discussion of a project concerning Iran’s future and related investment opportunities without possessing a public mandate for such activity.
Through the Norwegian media, he singled out Pahlavi as a preferred future political figure without presenting evidence of his alleged support.
He concealed the personalised promotion of Pahlavi behind the language of freedom, human rights, and democracy.
He placed the narrow political objectives of one émigré project above the requirement of parliamentary impartiality.
He allowed the Storting to be transformed into a platform granting repeated privileged access to the Pahlavi family.
The Norwegian media displayed editorial irresponsibility by granting authoritative public space to unsubstantiated and amateurish judgments.
The Storting knew about the problem but did not investigate it.
The Labour Party protected its representative.
The parliamentary majority re-elected him before establishing the facts.
The Presidium failed to ensure transparency.
The other parliamentary parties accepted the preservation of the political status quo.
Responsibility therefore lies not only with Masud Gharahkhani. It lies with the entire Storting, which allowed its own President to place personal interests and a narrow foreign political agenda above the interests of the Norwegian people.
The interests of the Kingdom of Norway must take precedence over everything else.
The President of the Storting must represent Norway, not the Pahlavi family.
He must protect Parliament’s independence, not promote a foreign claimant.
He must respect the constitutional limits of his office, not formulate a parallel Iran policy.
He must serve the Norwegian people, not transform public office into an extension of his own émigré biography.
This is not an insignificant communication error.
It is not a private opinion without governmental consequences.
It is not an example of parliamentary openness.
It is a serious crisis of official impartiality, foreign-policy discipline, and parliamentary accountability.
Until the Storting conducts an independent investigation and publishes the documents, political responsibility for concealing the circumstances will rest with Masud Gharahkhani, the Labour Party, and the parliamentary majority that ensured his protection.
FINAL SUPPLEMENT
WHY WERE NEITHER AN IMMEDIATE LEGAL EXAMINATION NOR AN INDEPENDENT PARLIAMENTARY INVESTIGATION INITIATED AFTER MASUD GHARAHKHANI RETURNED FROM THE UNITED STATES?
The question concerning the possible arrest of Masud Gharahkhani at Oslo Airport Gardermoen must be formulated with legal precision. Under Section 94 of the Constitution of Norway, no person may be deprived of liberty except in cases prescribed by law and in accordance with the procedure established by law. Section 171 of the Criminal Procedure Act requires reasonable grounds for suspicion that a specific offence carrying the relevant statutory penalty has been committed, together with the existence of additional procedural grounds for arrest. Section 94 of the Constitution of Norway and Section 171 of the Criminal Procedure Act
It would therefore be legally incorrect to assert that Masud Gharahkhani should automatically have been arrested at the airport without the identification of a specific criminal offence and without a procedural decision by the competent authorities.
This does not, however, release Norwegian governmental and parliamentary institutions from responsibility. The correct question is a different one:
Why did no one initiate an immediate legal and official examination following Masud Gharahkhani’s return from the United States in order to establish whether grounds existed for criminal, disciplinary, political, or parliamentary responsibility?
Gardermoen Airport should not have become the location of a punishment determined in advance. However, the President of the Storting’s return from an official journey should have marked the beginning of a documented examination of the circumstances surrounding his meeting with Reza Pahlavi, which had not been included in the official programme.
The competent authorities and the leadership of Parliament should immediately have:
formally registered the information concerning a political contact that had not been included in the programme;
ensured the preservation of the official calendar, official correspondence, delegation reports, and expenditure documents;
requested explanations from Masud Gharahkhani and the persons accompanying him;
obtained information from the Norwegian Embassy in the United States;
identified the organisers of the meeting;
determined whether government transport, employees, diplomatic channels, or other public resources had been used;
examined the substance of the discussion concerning the Iran Prosperity Project and investment opportunities;
conducted an independent assessment of whether the actions of the President of the Storting exceeded the limits of his authority;
established whether grounds existed for referring the materials to the police or the prosecuting authorities.
No such measures were publicly demonstrated.
AN UNAUTHORISED ASSUMPTION OF A REPRESENTATIVE ROLE REQUIRED AN INVESTIGATION, NOT A PARTY-POLITICAL JUSTIFICATION
The term “self-appointment” in the present context should be understood not as a criminal offence established in advance, but as the possible unauthorised assumption of a political and representative function that the office of President of the Storting does not confer.
Masud Gharahkhani was not authorised to:
conduct independent negotiations concerning Iran’s future system of government;
identify a preferred claimant to transitional power;
discuss the economic architecture of a future Iran with such a claimant;
create the impression that Reza Pahlavi enjoyed the support of the Norwegian Parliament;
use an official visit for parallel personal diplomacy.
If the President of the Storting acted without a mandate from the Government and without an official decision by Parliament, this should not automatically have been declared a criminal offence, but it was required to become the subject of a thorough legal examination.
Instead, the public was offered the formula of a “personal meeting.” That formula did not explain what had occurred; it foreclosed the possibility of examining its substance.
It allowed Parliament to avoid establishing:
on whose behalf Masud Gharahkhani spoke;
what commitments or expectations may have arisen;
what political expectations Reza Pahlavi acquired;
what economic interests were discussed;
why the office of President of the Storting was used in Pahlavi’s publication;
what damage may have been caused to the foreign-policy credibility of Norway.
The words “private meeting” became a universal political shield. Behind that shield were concealed the absence of a mandate, the absence of minutes, the absence of accountability, and the absence of an investigation.
PARLIAMENT COULD NOT ORDER AN ARREST, BUT IT WAS OBLIGED TO ORGANISE AN INVESTIGATION
The Storting is not the police, the prosecuting authority, or a court of law. Parliament has no authority to order the arrest of a particular person.
Parliament did, however, possess its own oversight mechanisms. The Standing Committee on Scrutiny and Constitutional Affairs may initiate examinations, submit written questions, and conduct oversight hearings. In addition, Section 19 of the Rules of Procedure of the Storting permits the establishment of a special commission to clarify and assess events that have already occurred. Official materials concerning the powers of the scrutiny committee and the establishment of a commission
If the ordinary competence of the Standing Committee on Scrutiny and Constitutional Affairs did not fully encompass the conduct of the President of the Storting himself, Parliament could have established a special independent commission and defined its mandate through a separate decision.
The Storting could and should have:
1. required a complete written report on the journey;
2. heard evidence from every member of the parliamentary delegation;
3. established the role of the Norwegian Embassy;
4. examined expenditure and the use of public resources;
5. obtained correspondence relating to the organisation of the meeting;
6. requested the positions of the Government and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs;
7. considered the conflict between Gharahkhani’s personal and official roles;
8. recommended that he temporarily refrain from performing international representative functions until the examination had been completed;
9. considered whether the continuation of his tenure was compatible with the necessary level of public trust;
10. referred the materials to the police or prosecuting authorities if the investigation had disclosed indications of a specific criminal offence.
Parliament did not use these opportunities.
The absence of an arrest is therefore not the central institutional failure. The central failure is that no one conducted an examination capable of establishing whether any grounds for the application of criminal law existed at all.
THE STORTING PREFERRED COLLECTIVE PROTECTION TO THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE FACTS
After the information became public, the parliamentary parties had the opportunity to demand an investigation. Neither the Labour Party, nor the parliamentary majority, nor the Presidium of the Storting demonstrated any readiness to subject the conduct of their own President to independent scrutiny.
The formula concerning the personal nature of the meetings allowed every party involved to avoid an inconvenient political conflict.
The Labour Party avoided the need to investigate the conduct of its own representative.
The other parliamentary parties avoided confrontation concerning the leadership of Parliament.
The Presidium avoided acknowledging an internal crisis.
The oversight bodies avoided examining the person occupying the highest level of the parliamentary hierarchy.
A system of collective political protection thereby emerged, under which every institution could refer to the inaction of another, while the overall result was the absence of an investigation.
This constitutes party-political mutual protection.
Such mutual protection does not necessarily take the form of a written agreement. It exists when all interested political forces tacitly agree not to ask questions capable of disrupting a convenient inter-party arrangement.
In the case of Masud Gharahkhani, the parliamentary parties placed the preservation of the Storting’s internal stability above their duty to establish the truth.
THE INFLUENCE OF FAMILY AND PARTY CONNECTIONS AND ELECTORAL CALCULATIONS REQUIRES AN EVIDENCE-BASED EXAMINATION
The claim that Masud Gharahkhani’s father, Bidjan Gharahkhani, used his connections within the Labour Party to protect his son cannot be published as an established fact without documentary evidence.
Nor can it be asserted without an examination of party documents that the Labour Party leadership refused to conduct an investigation exclusively because it feared losing the votes of voters with migrant backgrounds.
The absence of a transparent investigation, however, inevitably gives rise to such suspicions.
An independent commission should therefore have examined:
whether Bidjan Gharahkhani contacted representatives of the Labour Party in connection with his son’s journey to the United States;
whether internal party discussions were held concerning possible reputational damage;
whether family, personal, or regional party connections influenced the decision not to conduct an investigation;
whether potential electoral consequences for the Labour Party were discussed;
whether keeping Masud Gharahkhani in office was considered a means of retaining particular groups of voters;
whether agreements existed among the parliamentary parties to prevent a public investigation.
Until such documents have been examined, the possible influence of family and party networks, nepotism, favouritism, and electoral calculation remains a hypothesis requiring verification.
The Storting cannot, however, rely upon the absence of evidence that it refused to seek as proof that no problem existed.
An open investigation was the only means of dispelling suspicions of nepotism and favouritism. The refusal to conduct one did not eliminate those suspicions; it intensified them.
THE INTERNATIONAL RESPONSE MUST BE DESCRIBED AS THE AUTHOR’S TESTIMONY, NOT AS THE OFFICIAL POSITION OF FOREIGN INSTITUTIONS
According to the author of the present study, individual political figures and specialists personally known to him and connected with foreign-policy work in the United States Senate, the United States Department of State, and the Bundestag of the Federal Republic of Germany expressed surprise and concern in private communications that the meeting had not been subjected to a comprehensive parliamentary assessment and that Masud Gharahkhani had subsequently been re-elected as President of the Storting.
These personal reactions must not be presented as the official position of the United States Senate, the United States Department of State, or the Bundestag without written statements from the respective institutions. They nevertheless demonstrate how unusual the Norwegian Parliament’s refusal to investigate the conduct of its own President may appear from an external perspective.
If the author possesses letters, messages, or official responses from particular individuals, they should be preserved and presented with the authorship, date, and status of each statement clearly identified. Only this procedure would permit personal testimony to be transformed into verifiable documentary evidence.
THE RE-ELECTION OF 10 OCTOBER 2025 BECAME THE CULMINATION OF PARLIAMENTARY SELF-JUSTIFICATION
Following the parliamentary election of 8 September 2025, the newly constituted Storting had an opportunity to begin its work by restoring public trust.
Parliament could have postponed its decision concerning the presidency until the examination had been completed.
It could have nominated another candidate.
It could have required Masud Gharahkhani to provide a complete public explanation.
It could have established a commission.
Instead, on 10 October 2025, Masud Gharahkhani was re-elected as President of the Storting with 150 votes, while 15 ballots were left blank. Results of the vote
That vote did not eliminate the compromising circumstances. It demonstrated that the parliamentary majority preferred not to examine them.
A politician whose conduct required independent scrutiny once again received the highest parliamentary office after the King.
The Storting thereby transformed its own vote into a substitute for an investigation.
Parliament first failed to establish the facts and then used the absence of officially established wrongdoing to justify the re-election. This represents a closed mechanism of institutional self-justification.
THE FINAL QUESTION TO THE STORTING
Why was no legal assessment of Masud Gharahkhani’s conduct initiated after his return from the United States?
Why did Parliament not require the production of documents?
Why were the organisers of the meeting not identified?
Why was the discussion of investment opportunities not examined?
Why did the Standing Committee on Scrutiny and Constitutional Affairs not initiate consideration of those aspects of the matter that fell within its competence?
Why was a special parliamentary commission not established?
Why was Masud Gharahkhani not asked to refrain temporarily from performing international representative functions?
Why was his re-election considered at all before the examination had been completed?
Why did the Labour Party protect its representative instead of requiring complete transparency from him?
Why did the other parliamentary parties accept this course of action?
Why were suspicions concerning family and party influence, nepotism, favouritism, and electoral calculation not disproven through a documented investigation?
Responsibility for the meeting omitted from the official programme and for the subsequent conduct rests with Masud Gharahkhani.
Responsibility for the absence of a legal assessment rests with the competent governmental authorities within the limits of their respective powers.
Responsibility for the absence of a parliamentary investigation, the preservation of his official status, and his re-election rests with the Storting, its Presidium, the Labour Party, and the parliamentary majority.
It was precisely the absence of an investigation that transformed an individual conflict of roles into a wider crisis within the Norwegian parliamentary system.
The Storting did not demonstrate to the public that Masud Gharahkhani had acted irreproachably.
The Storting refused to conduct the examination that could have confirmed or disproven that conclusion.
The central question therefore remains unanswered: why did the Parliament of the Kingdom of Norway prefer the collective protection of its own President to establishing the complete truth concerning the events of March 2025?
AFTERWORD
NORWAY — MY HOME, MY CHOICE, AND MY RESPONSIBILITY
Concern for Norway is not the exclusive right of any single politician, family, political party, or social group. It cannot be appropriated by those who appear more frequently than others on television screens, speak in newspapers, or occupy senior public offices. Love for a country is not measured by the number of interviews, political declarations, or ceremonial speeches. It is demonstrated through actions, many years of work, responsibility, and a willingness to defend the public interest even when doing so is inconvenient, disadvantageous, or incapable of producing political dividends.
Masud Gharahkhani and his family, who come from Iran, are not the only people entitled to speak about their connection with Norway and their concern for its future. Norway is home to many people who arrived from other countries and linked their destiny with this nation. For many of them, Norway has become neither a temporary place of residence, nor merely a convenient social system, nor a political platform, but a genuine second homeland. Moreover, this homeland may sometimes be second only chronologically, but not in the strength of the love, loyalty, and responsibility felt towards it.
I do not hold a person’s origins against them. On the contrary, my own life experience has convinced me that someone born far from Scandinavia can develop a profound and sincere love for Norway. However, love for a country does not entitle anyone to intermingle personal interests, family connections, or political ambitions with the interests of the state. A person’s origins prove nothing in themselves—neither virtue nor fault. Public assessment must be determined by that person’s conduct, respect for the law, and ability to distinguish private interests from public responsibilities.
For this very reason, my criticism of individual politicians, parliamentary decisions, and media organisations does not constitute an attack upon Norway. It arises not from hostility, but from concern for a country that has become part of my life. Criticising public institutions does not mean rejecting the state. Demanding accountability from public officials does not mean repudiating democracy. On the contrary, democracy remains viable only when citizens are not afraid to ask difficult questions of those who exercise power.
Parliament can make mistakes. A political figure may prove unworthy of the office entrusted to them. Media organisations may display selectivity, bias, or insufficient professional caution. Norway, however, is considerably greater than any individual politician, parliamentary term, party leadership, or editorial office. The state must not be identified with the temporary holders of power. The people, their historical memory, culture, and moral principles are immeasurably greater than any passing political circumstances.
MY SECOND HOMELAND
Norway is also my country. I am not indifferent to what happens to its people, public institutions, international reputation, and future generations. I do not live alongside Norway, but within its social and moral reality. Its achievements bring me joy, and its problems cause me pain. I perceive its destiny not as an outside observer, but as a person who has accepted this country into his heart and who feels personally responsible for it.
I love Norway not for one particular quality, but in its entirety—as one loves a home in which it is easy to breathe. For me, belonging to this country has become more than a legal circumstance or an entry in official documents. It has become a choice of the soul.
A person may be born in one country, receive an education in another, work in a third, and find a true home in a fourth. A homeland is not determined solely by one’s place of birth. It is determined by the place with which a person connects their conscience, hopes, work, and responsibility for the future.
Norway became precisely such a place for me.
Its northern land is dear to me: the fjords, mountains, forests, sea, small towns, and communities in which people can still experience a direct connection with nature. Its open space is dear to me—severe and, at the same time, remarkably peaceful. Within this landscape, people learn not to conquer nature, but to live beside it, respecting its power and accepting its laws.
The sea shaped the character of the Norwegian people. It cultivated courage, patience, caution, and a sense of responsibility for those nearby. The sea does not forgive arrogance. It demands precision, mutual assistance, and an ability to answer for every decision made. Perhaps this is why practicality, restraint, and respect for genuine work are so clearly present in the Norwegian national character.
A PEOPLE OF NORTHERN DIGNITY
I sincerely respect Norwegians for their northern restraint, their dignity without theatricality, and their strength without brutality. These qualities are not always apparent upon first acquaintance. Norwegians rarely attempt to impress others with grand words. They do not hurry to reveal their innermost feelings to everyone they meet, yet behind this outward restraint one frequently finds kindness, dependability, and an ability to offer assistance precisely when that assistance is genuinely needed.
Norwegian kindness does not require public display. It is expressed in ordinary human actions: respect for a neighbour, care for an elderly person, attentiveness towards a child, and support for someone who has encountered misfortune. Assistance is often offered without humiliating questions and without any desire to transform another person’s gratitude into personal capital.
I feel a particular affinity with Norwegian honesty—calm and practical honesty. It is expressed in the habit of keeping one’s word, respecting an agreement, and refusing to treat deception as a demonstration of cleverness. Where mutual trust exists, society is liberated from perpetual fear and suspicion. Trust becomes not an abstract moral concept, but one of society’s most important assets.
Norwegians know how to respect another person’s private space without turning that respect into indifference. They can maintain an appropriate distance while simultaneously recognising their responsibility to society. Within this culture, an individual has the right to be themselves, but their freedom must not destroy the peace, dignity, and safety of others.
The respect that Norwegians show towards work is especially admirable. A person’s worth should not be determined by the grandeur of their title, the size of their office, or their proximity to power. The conscientious work of a fisherman, builder, physician, teacher, farmer, seafarer, engineer, or social worker deserves the same public respect as the work of a politician or public official.
This reflects a profound sense of equality. It does not involve mechanically making everyone the same, but rather recognising the equal human dignity of every person. High office must not transform an individual into a special being exempt from the rules applicable to everyone else. On the contrary, the higher the position, the greater the responsibility.
I value the Norwegian ability to reason calmly and sensibly. Norwegians do not always rush to reach a final conclusion. They prefer to listen, verify, and compare. Their thinking is frequently based not upon an impressive phrase, but upon practical experience. This reflects the maturity of a people who lived for centuries in severe natural conditions, where a mistake could have serious consequences and empty demagoguery could never replace knowledge and work.
Norwegian tradition contains a distinctive understanding of working together for the common good, known as dugnad. This is more than voluntary assistance to neighbours or the local community. It expresses the conviction that a shared home cannot be preserved solely through instructions issued from above. Everyone must make a personal contribution through their time, work, knowledge, or care.
It is through such qualities that Norway has succeeded in becoming a society in which freedom is combined with responsibility, and individual independence with a sense of solidarity.
A LAND OF ANCIENT CULTURE AND LIVING HISTORY
Modern Norway did not emerge suddenly. Behind it stands a long historical journey: the memory of seafarers and farmers, sagas and folk traditions, wooden churches, traditional crafts, fishing communities, and distant voyages.
Norwegians are the cultural heirs of the Viking Age—of people for whom the sea was not a boundary, but a road. The Viking Age should not be perceived exclusively through warfare and conquest. It was also an era of seafaring, trade, exploration, technical mastery, and the expansion of humanity’s understanding of the world.
Ancient Norwegians sailed out to sea without modern navigational instruments. They were guided by knowledge, observation, experience, and courage. They had to understand the wind, the movement of the waves, the position of the sun, and the behaviour of birds. Behind this stood a developed culture of practical knowledge passed from one generation to the next.
Norway’s greatness, however, lies not only in its antiquity. A historical culture remains alive when it helps modern people understand their responsibility towards the future. The memory of ancestors is important not as a source of national self-admiration, but as a means of understanding the price paid for the creation of society, statehood, and a sense of human dignity.
Scandinavian Norway is more than a geographical space. To me, it represents a moral order cultivated over the course of centuries. Within it are united respect for work, fidelity to one’s word, a sense of proportion, love of freedom, and an understanding of personal responsibility.
Norway’s system of government is valuable not because it never makes mistakes, but because its historical purpose lies in its capacity to recognise and correct them. Strong institutions differ from weak institutions not through the absence of violations, but through a willingness to investigate them openly and impartially, irrespective of a person’s office or political affiliation.
For this very reason, demanding transparency does not constitute an attack upon Norway. It is a demand for fidelity to the country’s finest traditions.
A COUNTRY TO WHICH I AM INDEBTED
Norway gave me more than a place to live. During one of the most difficult periods of my life, Norwegian physicians fought to save me. I know the value of their knowledge, responsibility, and human courage. My gratitude towards this country is therefore not an abstract sentiment. It is connected with my very ability to continue living, thinking, writing, and working.
I am grateful to the Norwegian people whom I have encountered throughout my life: physicians, scholars, diplomats, neighbours, and ordinary citizens. Among them were people who never delivered grand speeches, but who were capable of restoring one’s faith in human dignity through a single honest action.
It is precisely such people who constitute the real Norway.
A country’s moral standing is determined not by political slogans, but by the daily conduct of its citizens. Trust is created not through ceremonial declarations, but through thousands of unnoticed actions: work performed conscientiously, a quietly honoured promise, assistance offered to a stranger, and responsibility towards neighbours, family, and society.
I believe in the sound judgement of the Norwegian people. I believe in their ability to distinguish truth from political decoration, the national interest from personal ambition, and genuine concern from populism.
Norwegians may be patient, but this does not mean that they are indifferent. Their restraint must not be mistaken for weakness. Behind the calm character of this people stands a profound sense of justice. When society receives complete and reliable information, it is capable of reaching a mature moral judgement.
My criticism is not directed against the Norwegian people. On the contrary, it arises from the conviction that the people of Norway deserve transparent government, an accountable parliament, independent media, and public officials capable of placing the interests of the Kingdom above personal connections.
The people of Norway deserve the truth.
FINAL WORD
Through this book, I sought not to humiliate Norway, but to defend its dignity. I wished to demonstrate that love for a country does not require silence. Silence may sometimes be convenient, but it is not honest. Genuine loyalty to a state is expressed through a willingness to speak about its problems while they can still be corrected.
My Norway is not an individual politician or a particular political party. It is a northern land whose history reaches back through the centuries. It is a land of seafarers, explorers, fishermen, workers, teachers, physicians, engineers, and scholars. It is a country of people who know how to live without ostentatious luxury, respect work, keep their word, and offer assistance to others.
My Norway is the country of Thor Heyerdahl, for whom the horizon was never the limit of human knowledge.
It is the country of Dagfinn Stenseth—a diplomat who knew how to preserve human dignity amid the most difficult political circumstances.
It is the country of physicians who restore people to life, researchers who preserve scholarly integrity, and ordinary citizens upon whom public trust depends.
I do not look upon Norway through the eyes of a temporary visitor. I look upon it as a person who has linked his destiny with this country. Five years of archival research, a fundamental book about its ancient history, tens of thousands of published copies, and years of scholarship and public service—all of this forms part of my personal answer to the question of what it means to love a country not only in words.
Norway became my homeland not by virtue of my origins, but through a conscious choice.
I am not indifferent to the kind of country it will remain for its children. I am not indifferent to whether future generations will be able to trust parliament, public institutions, and the media. I am not indifferent to whether the country will preserve its sense of proportion, honesty, independence, and northern dignity.
I want to see Norway strong, just, and open. I want it to be a country in which no person stands above the law. A country in which high office entails a high degree of responsibility. A country in which a person’s origins neither confer privileges nor provide grounds for suspicion, and in which everyone is judged by their conduct.
I want to see Norway remain faithful to itself.
May the fjords and mountains remind humanity of the greatness of nature. May the sea remind us of the courage of our ancestors. May historical memory protect society from complacency. May freedom always be accompanied by responsibility, and power by accountability.
May people who arrive here from other countries not only receive safety and opportunities from Norway, but also give the country their knowledge, work, honesty, and loyalty. May each of them one day be able to say without inner contradiction:
This is my country. These are my people. This is my home. And I am not indifferent to its future.
This is precisely what I say today.
With gratitude to Norway.
With respect for its great people.
With faith in their wisdom, dignity, and sense of justice.
And with profound love for the country that became the choice of my soul.
MY FIVE-YEAR SCHOLARLY WORK ON NORWAY
My love for Norway has never been confined to emotional declarations, ceremonial words, or outward expressions of respect. It found expression in a specific, long-term scholarly undertaking to which I devoted a significant part of my life.
For five years, I systematically studied historical, archaeological, and cultural sources relating to the origins of Norway, ancient migration processes, the development of seafaring, and contacts between the peoples of Northern Europe and other civilisational regions.
This work was not written at a desk on the basis of a handful of publicly available publications. I had to immerse myself quite literally in archival research, locate scattered documents, compare scholarly interpretations, and examine materials held in different countries.
The research was conducted in archives and scholarly collections in:
the United Kingdom;
Germany;
Sweden;
Poland;
Italy;
France.
Each country revealed a separate part of a much larger historical picture. Some documents concerned ancient navigation and the migration routes of peoples, while others related to cultural contacts, archaeological discoveries, the development of Northern European societies, and the formation of Scandinavian civilisation.
I had to work with materials in different languages, compare academic schools of thought, verify dates, and distinguish historically substantiated information from later interpretations and attractive but unproven legends.
This five-year research project resulted in the creation of a monumental and fundamental scholarly work:
THE NORWEGIAN LAND — A CRADLE OF ANCIENT CULTURES AND CIVILISATIONS
The book was also published in English under the title:
THE NORWEGIAN EARTH — THE CENTER OF ANCIENT CULTURES AND CIVILIZATIONS
The Russian and English editions of the book became the result not only of academic research, but also of my personal desire to tell an international readership about the greatness of Norwegian history, the cultural heritage of the descendants of the ancient Vikings, and Scandinavia’s role in the development of human civilisation.
The book’s total print run exceeded twenty-five thousand copies. For a scholarly historical work, this represented a substantial readership. However, I have never assessed the outcome of my work solely by the number of books printed.
It was far more important to me that thousands of readers were given an opportunity to see Norway not merely as a prosperous modern Northern European state, but as an ancient land possessing a profound historical memory, its own civilisational tradition, and a unique cultural heritage.
I sought to demonstrate that Norway is not a peripheral part of European history. It is one of the most important centres of ancient seafaring, the exploration of maritime spaces, the development of technical knowledge, the formation of social self-government, and cultural interaction between distant regions of the world.
Years of work stand behind every page of the book.
Behind every conclusion stand an archival document, a scholarly debate, a comparison of sources, and the necessity of repeated verification.
Behind every chapter stand journeys, correspondence with archives, searches for rare publications, consultations, doubts, and repeated returns to materials that had already been examined.
I spared neither time nor effort in carrying out this work because I regarded, and continue to regard, it as my scholarly and moral duty to Norway.
It is impossible to devote five years to studying the history of a country, examining its ancient culture, writing about its people, and helping to disseminate this knowledge among tens of thousands of readers while remaining indifferent to that country.
My book became a scholarly declaration of my love for Norway.
It was a declaration expressed not only in words, but also through archival work, documentary evidence, scholarly conclusions, and a determination to restore historical justice with regard to a great northern people.
FOLLOWING IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF THOR HEYERDAHL
A special place in my scholarly and personal biography belongs to Thor Heyerdahl—the great Norwegian explorer, traveller, archaeologist, writer, and a man who succeeded in transforming scholarly inquiry into a courageous journey across geographical and intellectual boundaries.
I did not merely read his works or observe his expeditions from a distance. I had the privilege of meeting Thor Heyerdahl personally, participating in the preparation of events connected with his visit to Moscow, speaking with him, and subsequently continuing research that further developed some of the major historical questions he had raised.
Thor Heyerdahl possessed an exceptionally rare quality: he was not afraid to ask questions that the established academic community considered too bold, controversial, or premature.
He understood that scholarship must not be transformed into an immovable system of dogmas. Knowledge advances through doubt, inquiry, verification, and the courage of a researcher to move beyond conventional understandings of the past.
Heyerdahl regarded the sea not as a barrier separating peoples, but as an ancient route connecting cultures and civilisations. Through his own example, he demonstrated that ancient peoples possessed far more advanced navigational abilities than certain historical schools had attributed to them.
His expeditions were not adventures undertaken for the sake of fame. They were practical scholarly experiments through which he tested the feasibility of ancient maritime voyages and cultural contacts.
His principle of research was close to my own: not to confine oneself to repeating generally accepted propositions, but to seek an independent path towards historical truth.
It was in this sense that I followed in the footsteps of Thor Heyerdahl.
My work on Norway was not a repetition of his books. It constituted an independent study, but we were united by a desire to view human history as a history of interconnections, migrations, encounters, and exchanges of knowledge among peoples.
I later dedicated a documentary film to Thor Heyerdahl, produced in 2001. The film told the story of his life, expeditions, scholarly courage, and intellectual legacy. It was broadcast in countries of the Commonwealth of Independent States and helped introduce a broad audience to the great Norwegian explorer.
For me, Heyerdahl will always remain the embodiment of the finest qualities of the Norwegian character: courage without arrogance, independence without bitterness, curiosity without superficiality, and patriotism without national isolation.
He loved Norway, yet at the same time belonged to all humanity.
MOSCOW, APRIL 1987: THOR HEYERDAHL, DAGFINN STENSETH, AND MIKHAIL GORBACHEV
One of the most memorable events of my life occurred in April 1987.
At that time, I was working in the International Department of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. As part of that work, and with my participation and in cooperation with the distinguished Norwegian diplomat Dagfinn Stenseth, a meeting was arranged between Thor Heyerdahl and Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev, General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.
The meeting took place in the Kremlin on 17 April 1987.
It was then that I had the privilege of personally meeting and speaking with Thor Heyerdahl, Dagfinn Stenseth, and Mikhail Gorbachev.
To me, they were not abstract historical figures or merely names appearing in newspaper publications. I saw them during the course of direct professional work, listened to their reflections, and observed how ideas, human character, and national interests intersected in the making of real history.
Heyerdahl’s meeting with Gorbachev had significance extending far beyond ordinary diplomatic protocol. It took place during a period when the walls of mutual distrust between East and West were gradually beginning to break down. The world remained divided by the Cold War, yet hope was already emerging for a new form of international dialogue.
Two very different individuals met in the Kremlin.
Mikhail Gorbachev stood at the head of one of the world’s largest powers and bore responsibility for political decisions of global importance.
Thor Heyerdahl held no governmental authority, commanded no armies, and controlled no political apparatus. His authority rested upon knowledge, scholarly courage, personal bravery, and an ability to address people beyond national and ideological boundaries.
Heyerdahl spoke not only about the past. He was deeply concerned about the future of humanity, the condition of the world’s oceans, environmental protection, mutual understanding among peoples, and the necessity of peaceful cooperation.
For me, participating in the preparation of this meeting became one of the most important experiences of my life. I witnessed how a single scholar, armed with knowledge, moral conviction, and international authority, could be heard at the highest level of government.
My personal acquaintance with Thor Heyerdahl subsequently became a source of scholarly inspiration. His fearlessness in raising historical questions strengthened my conviction that a researcher has a duty to follow the evidence, even when it leads to conclusions that do not correspond with conventional academic interpretations.
My meeting with Mikhail Gorbachev also remained part of my personal and professional history. It occurred during an era in which openness, the renewal of public life, and the necessity of new thinking in international relations were being proclaimed in the Soviet Union.
I was not an outside observer reading about these events decades later. I had the privilege of being present within the historical process, participating in organisational work, and seeing people whose decisions influenced the international situation.
Therefore, when I write about history, diplomacy, and government, I draw not only upon books and archival documents. My conclusions are also informed by personal experience of high-level politics and by encounters with individuals who became part of the history of the twentieth century.
DAGFINN STENSETH — DIPLOMAT, WITNESS, AND FRIEND
Dagfinn Stenseth deserves a special account. He was a distinguished Norwegian diplomat who twice headed Norway’s diplomatic mission in Moscow and held senior positions in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Kingdom of Norway.
Our acquaintance began during the Soviet period and was connected with the preparation of the Kremlin meeting between Mikhail Gorbachev and Thor Heyerdahl in April 1987.
However, our relationship did not end with that event.
History once again brought our professional paths together following the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Dagfinn Stenseth was directly involved in developing Norway’s relations with the newly independent states that emerged within the territory of the former Soviet Union.
On 8 June 1992, in Ashgabat, I had the privilege of participating in an event connected with the establishment of diplomatic relations between the Kingdom of Norway and independent Turkmenistan. Dagfinn Stenseth presented credentials issued by King Harald V.
For me, this was more than an official diplomatic procedure. It became a continuation of our acquaintance, which had begun in Moscow during an entirely different historical era.
Years passed, states changed, and former political borders disappeared, but the mutual human respect that had developed between us endured.
When fate eventually brought me to Norway, Dagfinn Stenseth became one of the very few people who knew my past well, understood the nature of my previous work, and could confirm my participation in significant events of the Soviet and post-Soviet periods.
We met at his home in Vestfossen. Our conversations continued for hours. We recalled Moscow, Turkmenistan, international negotiations, Thor Heyerdahl, and the historical era that we had been privileged to witness.
Behind the formal title of diplomat stood a man of exceptional culture, wisdom, and rare human kindness. He knew how to listen without diminishing the person speaking to him through the weight of his own position. He understood that genuine diplomacy begins not with protocol, but with respect for human dignity.
Dagfinn Stenseth became more than a professional colleague and a witness to history. He became a close friend and one of those Norwegians through whom I developed a profound human connection with Norway.
His death in 2019 was a grievous personal loss to me.
The memory of him is inseparably connected with my memory of Norway—honest, dignified, open, and capable of preserving human nobility even amid the most complex political circumstances.
THREE NAMES IN MY PERSONAL HISTORY
Thor Heyerdahl, Dagfinn Stenseth, and Mikhail Gorbachev each occupy a distinctive place in my biography.
Thor Heyerdahl became for me an example of scholarly courage, independent thought, and the ability to unite peoples through the study of their ancient history.
Dagfinn Stenseth became an example of diplomatic honour, human dignity, and faithful friendship that withstood the passage of time and the trials of historic upheaval.
Mikhail Gorbachev personified an era in which opportunities began to emerge for dialogue between states that had been divided by ideological confrontation for many decades.
My encounters with these individuals did not remain isolated episodes from the past. They influenced my understanding of history, diplomacy, scholarship, and personal responsibility.
These meetings, my five years of archival work, my book on the ancient history of Norway, my documentary film about Thor Heyerdahl, and my many years of friendship with Dagfinn Stenseth constitute a single biographical line.
No one, therefore, has the right to claim that my connection with Norway is accidental, superficial, or based exclusively upon the circumstances of emigration.
My connection with this country was formed over the course of decades.
It began long before I settled in Norway.
It passed through Moscow, the Kremlin, meetings with Thor Heyerdahl and Mikhail Gorbachev, cooperation with Dagfinn Stenseth, the establishment of diplomatic relations between states, five years of work in European archives, and the creation of a fundamental book on Norwegian history.
I did not simply settle in Norway.
I came to Norway through history, scholarship, diplomacy, personal friendship, and many years of work.
That is why Norway’s destiny is not foreign to me.
This is also my country.
This is the people to whom I devoted years of scholarly work.
This is the land whose history I sought to reveal to tens of thousands of readers.
This is the homeland of Thor Heyerdahl and Dagfinn Stenseth—individuals who left a profound mark upon my life.
And this is the country whose dignity, integrity, and future I consider it my moral duty to defend.
MY MORAL CHOICE: NORWAY — THE COUNTRY TO WHICH I HAVE REMAINED FAITHFUL
There is a profound difference between loudly proclaiming one’s love for a country and making a moral choice confirmed by personal conduct. Loyalty to a state is not measured by the number of interviews, political declarations, or ceremonial statements. It reveals itself when a person must choose between personal advantage and fidelity to the country that they have recognised as their homeland.
I do not wish to judge all migrants in the same way, and I do not regard a person’s origins as grounds for accusation or distrust. Among those who have arrived in Norway from other countries, there are many honest and hardworking people who are sincerely devoted to it. It is precisely for this reason that I cannot calmly accept the demagoguery and populism of those who attempt to portray their own ethnic group, family, or political circle as the only true bearers of concern for Norway.
Love for Norway does not belong to any particular family. It is not the exclusive possession of a politician who has obtained a senior position, access to a parliamentary platform, or the attention of the media. No one has the right to appropriate the exclusive authority to speak on behalf of those who have linked their destiny with this country.
I can speak, first and foremost, about myself and the choice that I personally made.
Behind me stands the tragic history of a family destroyed by German National Socialism. Through my father’s lineage, I am a direct descendant of German Jews—people who had lived in Germany for generations and regarded it as their homeland.
My father, Meir Galzermann-Olberg, was born on 7 October 1932 in Potsdam, near Berlin. He was a German of Jewish origin. My father’s family belonged to Germany neither accidentally nor merely formally. It was their land, their language, their cultural environment, and their historical homeland.
The rise of the National Socialist regime, however, deprived German Jews not only of their civil rights, security, and property. They were systematically deprived of the very right to exist.
According to the archival information contained in a letter from the Federal Ministry of the Interior and Community of Germany dated 7 September 2021, my entire family on my father’s side was forcibly deported by the German authorities to the territory of occupied Poland on 31 January 1940.
My relatives were sent to Kraków and Warsaw. Between 1940 and 1943, they were confined within the Kraków and Warsaw ghettos. People who had only recently formed part of German society were deprived of their homes, rights, property, human dignity, and freedom to determine the course of their own lives.
Their only crime in the eyes of the National Socialist regime was that they were Jewish.
Following the destruction of the Warsaw Ghetto, a significant number of the surviving prisoners were sent to extermination camps. According to the information provided in the letter from the German Ministry of the Interior, my relatives were most probably murdered in approximately August 1943 at the Treblinka II extermination camp, situated in occupied Poland approximately eighty kilometres north-east of Warsaw.
After August 1945, none of my relatives on my father’s side appeared on the lists of people who had returned to their former places of residence in Germany.
They never returned to their homes.
They were never again able to walk through the streets of Potsdam.
They were never able to tell their children and grandchildren about what they had endured.
Their lives ended in a place that became one of the most horrifying symbols of the organised extermination of European Jewry.
For me, Treblinka is not an abstract historical concept or merely the name of a place encountered in a textbook. It is the place where my family line was destroyed. It represents the lives of people whose names, faces, and voices the National Socialist regime attempted to erase permanently from human memory.
Their memory forms part of my identity. Yet I have never sought to transform this tragedy into political capital, a source of personal privilege, or an instrument of moral pressure upon others. I do not use the blood of my murdered relatives to construct a political career. I do not demand special treatment merely because I am a descendant of victims of the Holocaust.
For me, the memory of those who were murdered means, above all, an obligation to remain honest, to oppose demagoguery, and never to permit human suffering to be transformed into an instrument of political populism.
My father survived. In 1978, he returned from the Soviet Union to reside permanently in Potsdam, which was then situated within the German Democratic Republic. He died in 1989 in the city of his birth.
My family connection with Germany was therefore not invented for the purpose of obtaining a passport. It is confirmed by my father’s origins, his place of birth, the fate of our family, archival documents, the deportation of my relatives, and their deaths in an extermination camp.
THE LETTER FROM THE FEDERAL MINISTRY OF THE INTERIOR OF GERMANY
On 7 September 2021, a letter from the Federal Ministry of the Interior and Community of Germany was addressed to me, Mayer Meir Kaltenbrunner, formerly Nikolay Gerasimov.
The document was signed by Horst Seehofer, who at that time held the office of Federal Minister of the Interior of Germany.
On behalf of the Government of the Federal Republic of Germany, the letter expressed condolences to me and my family for the crimes of National Socialism and the tragedy of the extermination of European Jews.
What was particularly significant to me was not only the legal but also the moral language of the letter. It recognised the Holocaust as one of the greatest crimes in the history of human civilisation, produced by an inhuman ideology under which millions of innocent people were murdered solely because they belonged to the Jewish people.
Germany did not attempt to evade its historical responsibility. The letter spoke directly about the necessity of preserving historical memory, the inadmissibility of any repetition of such crimes, and the obligation of democratic states to oppose the revival of totalitarian ideologies and practices.
I regard this acknowledgement with respect.
My decision not to exercise my right to German citizenship is not an expression of hostility towards modern Germany, nor does it deny the immense work undertaken by the German people to confront and understand their past. On the contrary, I have profound respect for the ability of the modern Federal Republic of Germany to acknowledge its historical guilt, adopt legislative measures, and provide the descendants of persecuted people with an opportunity to restore rights that were taken away from their families.
This is how a responsible state acts: it does not conceal the crimes of the past or justify them through political expediency. It names evil for what it was and attempts, insofar as this remains possible many decades later, to restore justice.
THE RIGHT TO GERMAN CITIZENSHIP
On 20 August 2021, the Fourth Act Amending the Nationality Act entered into force in Germany. It established a new legal basis for the naturalisation of persons who had been persecuted by the National Socialist regime, as well as their direct descendants.
Section 15 of the German Nationality Act applies to persons who, between 30 January 1933 and 8 May 1945, lost German citizenship as a result of National Socialist persecution, were excluded from mechanisms through which citizenship could be acquired, were denied naturalisation, or were forced to leave Germany or lost their permanent residence there. The law also extends the right to naturalisation to their descendants.
The letter from the Ministry of the Interior confirmed that I am a direct descendant of German Jews who were subjected to National Socialist persecution and that I am entitled to apply for German citizenship as part of the restoration of historical justice.
A simplified procedure was made available to me. The letter described my position as granting me a priority right to obtain citizenship of the Federal Republic of Germany. The procedure did not require the payment of an application fee, and German law permitted the retention of another citizenship.
I was offered an opportunity to obtain the passport of one of Europe’s most influential states. This right was based neither upon a fictitious biography, nor upon an invented history of persecution, nor upon political patronage, nor upon the use of governmental connections. It was founded upon the archival documentation of my family’s tragedy.
I had the lawful right to say: my family was part of Germany; the German state deprived it of its rights; almost my entire family line was destroyed; and modern Germany therefore recognises my ability to restore that severed connection.
The existence of a legal right, however, does not create a moral obligation to exercise it.
MY DECISION IN 2021
I carefully considered all the circumstances.
No legal obstacles stood before me. I did not need to invent a story, seek intermediaries, appeal to political patrons, or prove an artificial connection with Germany. The necessary archival materials had been examined by German public authorities, and the legal basis was expressly set out in the official letter.
Nevertheless, in 2021 I made a final and conscious decision not to exercise the right granted to me to acquire German citizenship.
I did not submit an application for the purpose of obtaining another passport.
I did not regard the tragedy of my family as a means of acquiring an additional political, social, or material advantage.
I made this choice not because I had forgotten Germany, rejected the memory of my father, or ceased to mourn the relatives murdered at Treblinka. My choice was guided by something else—my loyalty to Norway.
By that time, Norway had already become my country.
It had become the land with which I had connected my life, destiny, scholarly work, and vision of the future. I did not wish to transform citizenship into a collection of passports and alternative possibilities. For me, citizenship is not merely a convenient document for crossing borders. It is a moral bond between an individual, a state, and a people.
The law permitted me to retain another citizenship. My inner choice, however, was not determined by the number of passports I was legally entitled to possess. It was determined by a single question: to which country did I wish to remain faithful, not merely formally but throughout my life?
My answer was and remains unequivocal: Norway.
A PASSPORT AND LOYALTY ARE NOT THE SAME
A passport can be obtained through an administrative procedure established by law. Loyalty cannot be obtained together with a passport. It cannot be printed upon a plastic card, registered in a database, or demonstrated through a ceremonial speech.
Loyalty is confirmed through time and conduct.
It is revealed by whether a person places the interests of their country above personal benefits, family plans, ethnic connections, and political ambitions.
It is revealed by whether a person is capable of relinquishing a genuine advantage when conscience requires fidelity to a choice already made.
Germany granted me a legally substantiated opportunity to acquire citizenship as a direct descendant of victims of the National Socialist regime. I am grateful to modern Germany for acknowledging my family’s tragedy and for legislatively restoring the rights of the descendants of persecuted German Jews.
I had, however, already chosen Norway as my home.
No new passport, additional citizenship, or associated advantage can alter my moral foundations or my loyalty to the Norwegian people.
I do not claim that everyone is obliged to make the same decision. Every person has their own family history and individual circumstances. I nevertheless have the right to explain my choice, particularly when I hear loud declarations from people attempting to portray themselves as Norway’s exclusive defenders.
I do not impose my decision upon anyone, but I ask that loyalty be judged not by the volume of a person’s words, but by the price of the decision they have made.
NORWAY — MY COUNTRY
I am loyal neither to one political party, nor to one political leader, nor to one governmental institution. I am loyal to the entire people of the Kingdom of Norway.
I love the Norwegian people for their kindness, honesty, openness, northern restraint, respect for work, and ability to help another person without humiliating their dignity.
I love this land for its mountains, fjords, sea, forests, and remarkable sense of inner freedom. I love its history and cultural memory. I devoted years of my life to studying ancient Norway and creating a fundamental scholarly work on its role in the history of cultures and civilisations.
Norway became far more to me than the state in which I reside. It became a moral choice.
I do not idealise political institutions, nor do I close my eyes to their mistakes. It is precisely because I love Norway that I consider it necessary to demand honesty, transparency, and accountability from its parliament, government, and public officials.
My criticism of individual politicians is not criticism of the Norwegian people. On the contrary, it is guided by my conviction that these people deserve far more than political demagoguery, populism, closed-door arrangements, and the use of public office to advance personal or narrowly political interests.
Norway did not become a temporary refuge or merely a convenient social system for me. It became my home.
Germany offered me an opportunity to restore a legal connection with the land of my ancestors. I regarded that offer with gratitude and respect, but I did not transform my family’s historical tragedy into a basis for changing my moral choice.
My murdered relatives never returned from Treblinka. I cannot change their fate. I can, however, preserve their memory by remaining honest and refusing to use their suffering for personal advantage.
I can defend their dignity by refusing to turn the Holocaust into a political instrument.
I can express gratitude to modern Germany without abandoning my loyalty to Norway.
And I can speak openly to the Norwegian people, without any inner contradiction:
I did not choose you because of a passport.
I did not choose you for personal advantage.
I did not choose you because I had no other opportunity.
I possessed a right, confirmed through governmental archives, to acquire citizenship of the Federal Republic of Germany as a direct descendant of German Jews who became victims of National Socialist persecution. I nevertheless made a conscious decision not to exercise that right because my life, my work, my responsibility, and my loyalty were already connected with Norway.
Norway is my country.
Norwegians are my people.
No new passport, additional citizenship, or personal advantage can alter the fundamental choice once made by my conscience.
I am grateful to Germany for acknowledging the tragedy of my family.
I bow my head before the memory of my relatives who were murdered at Treblinka.
I preserve the name of my father, who was born in Potsdam and survived the catastrophe that consumed almost his entire family.
I have, however, linked my present and future life with the Kingdom of Norway.
This is not a political slogan.
This is not demagoguery.
This is not populism.
It is my personal moral choice, confirmed by my actions.
Germany opened before me a door that I possessed the full legal right to enter. But Norway had already become my home.
It is Norway’s dignity, integrity, independence, and future that I consider it my moral duty to defend.
