The Homosexuality Debate of 1928

Translator's Note: This is a machine-assisted translation completed on May 14, 2025. While care has been taken to maintain accuracy, this translation has not yet undergone human review or validation. Please note that specialized terms, historical references, and nuanced content may benefit from expert review.

An organized Norwegian gay rights movement began in 1950 — before that, there are few, if any, traces of queer people publicly speaking out for their own cause. A previously unknown newspaper debate from 1928 stands as an exception.

Illustration by Kari Anne Augustsen (2018), based on a photograph of Alf Marin Jæger as a young man. Used with permission from the artist.

In the 1920s, same-sex love was a marginal topic in Norwegian public discourse. The term homosexuality, coined in the late 19th century, had gained some traction—first in psychiatric textbooks and scientific articles, and gradually, to some extent, in newspapers as well. Norwegian psychiatrists viewed homosexuality as something that, in some cases, was innate, and in others, the result of an unfortunate psychological development in which so-called “seduction” was seen as a primary cause. They believed that improper influences during childhood—particularly being seduced by older men—could lead to a person becoming permanently homosexual. In other words, it was seen as a kind of contagion that society needed to protect itself against.

Section 213 of the Norwegian Penal Code made sexual relations between men illegal, but in practice, the law was rarely enforced. The statute stated that prosecution should only occur if “public interest” required it, which meant that consensual relationships between adult men over the age of 21 were only punished in very rare cases. On the few occasions when Section 213 was applied, it was primarily against adult men who had engaged in sexual relations with boys under 21. The law thus mainly targeted the “seduction” of youth—in line with prevailing psychiatric theories.

A Woman’s Heart

In Germany at that time, there was an organized gay rights movement with roots going back to the late 19th century. The foundation of this movement was the belief that homosexuality was biological—people were born that way. The small group this concerned was therefore not seen as a danger to society; it was not considered a contagious trait. Homosexual acts, then, should be legal on the same terms as heterosexuality. The leading figure of this movement was the physician and sexologist Magnus Hirschfeld (1868–1935), who viewed homosexuality as an innate, natural, and non-pathological trait. He believed that these individuals were born as a kind of intermediate type between the sexes—a “third sex.”

In Norway, no such organized movement existed, and before 1928, hardly anyone had raised their voice to change the situation. The young northern Norwegian author and teacher Alf Martin Jæger (1895–1967), who was affiliated with the political labor movement, is the most important exception. In his novels Strengen brast (1923) and Odd Lyng (1924), homosexuality was the central theme. The protagonist in the latter, the young journalist Odd Lyng, falls in love with another young man, Carsten Ulve. The love is returned in the form of two hands meeting in a cinema in Tromsø, but Odd is thrown into doubt and guilt. He fears the penal code and wonders whether what he calls “the demands of his nature” were the result of bad influences during childhood or heredity. We sense that the author believes in the latter, and the protagonist also hints at it: “God, why did you create me as a man and give me a woman’s heart?” he asks.

While Jan Olav Gatland already in the 1980s highlighted the author’s treatment of homosexuality as a literary theme, we now know that Jæger did not stop there: he also took part in public discourse with a letter to the editor. On November 15, 1928, he spoke out in Dagbladet. The background was that Jæger had read about school inspector Sven Svensen (1863–1943), who at the Voluntary Church Meeting in October had warned that there was now a push for acceptance of homosexuality. Svensen had specifically reacted to the fact that, at a congress in Copenhagen, there had been a demand for “protection of homosexuality.” [2]

The Secular League for Sexual Reform

The demand that Svensen referred to had been made at an international Congress for Sexual Reform held in Copenhagen in July 1928. Magnus Hirschfeld was one of the initiators of the congress. In addition to having led the fight for same-sex love in Germany since the 1890s, Hirschfeld was the head of the Institute for Sexual Science in Berlin, which was a powerhouse for progressive sexual politics in Europe. In the summer of 1928, he was in Copenhagen at a congress that brought together sexologists and reformers from many countries, most of them affiliated with the political left. The event culminated in the founding of the World League for Sexual Reform, which had a broad reform agenda that included education on contraception, freer access to abortion, and the decriminalization of same-sex sexuality.

A congress participant from the communist Soviet Union spoke in Copenhagen about the legal reforms following the revolution, which included the acceptance of extramarital heterosexual cohabitation and the decriminalization of homosexuality.[3] Magnus Hirschfeld also gave a lecture which, according to Arbeiderbladet’s report, was “a passionate defense of homosexuals,” urging the League to fight for “this oppressed human variety that is still, in our civilized time, so senselessly and cruelly persecuted.”[4]

Perhaps Jæger had read this or another newspaper article about the congress in Copenhagen. In any case, the message clearly resonated with him. For school inspector Svensen and many others at the Norwegian Church Meeting, however, it was the opposite: the Copenhagen congress and the World League symbolized everything they believed was wrong with the moral development of the time.

Modern Witch Trials

In his letter to Dagbladet on November 15, 1928, Jæger aligned himself with the acceptance of homosexuality expressed in Copenhagen, pointing out that demands for decriminalization had now been raised in several countries. As far as he knew, such prohibitions did not exist in the Netherlands, France, or Southern Europe, and he believed that criminal penalties would soon be abolished in other countries as well. “Should Norway be the last?” he asked. He went on to note that in Germany there was an entire body of literature on the subject, where the term “the third sex” was used and homosexuality was regarded, in most cases, as innate.

Heterosexuals did not understand that homosexuals felt the same for people of the same sex as others did for the opposite sex, Jæger claimed. When many believed homosexuality was acquired through “seduction by comrades,” it was more likely that it had been latent from the beginning, he added. Therefore, there was no reason not to remove the criminal penalties for homosexuality, as long as it occurred voluntarily between both parties. When it came to children, however, the law had to intervene—just as it did in cases of sexual relations with minors in general.

Jæger concluded his letter by comparing the situation to the witch trials. In hindsight, one might smile at them, no matter how tragic they were: “Might not a future time do the same with regard to our own era, when the punishment for homosexuality has been abolished in all civilized countries?”

A Personal Cause

Alf Martin Jæger had Kven family roots from Alta, but he was writing this in Oksfjordhamn in Troms, where he was then working as a primary school teacher. A few years earlier, he had held a teaching position in Balsfjord, and there were whispers that his first book, Strengen brast, was a self-portrait. He was therefore already subject to rumors that personally linked him to the topic he wrote about. Nevertheless, he chose to speak out again in the form of a letter to the editor. Although Jæger later married in his forties, much suggests that he likely saw himself as bisexual or homosexual. In any case, the theme was a deeply personal one for him, and his third novel, Ser du en stjerne from 1950, also dealt with same-sex love.

When decriminalization had previously been proposed in Norwegian public discourse, it was usually by doctors who were primarily concerned that homosexuality did not belong in the courtroom, but should instead be treated therapeutically or prevented. [5] In contrast, Jæger’s letter made no mention of illness; on the contrary, he asserted that homosexuals “feel exactly the same for someone of their own sex” as heterosexuals do for someone of the opposite sex.[6]

Slander on Great Minds

The letter did not lead to an extensive debate in Dagbladet’s columns, but a few opposing voices did speak up. One of them was Ernst Nielsen (1901–1963), an avid supporter of the new religious philosophy of theosophy. [7] In his letter, Jæger had claimed that “several of history’s most famous women and men have been homosexual,” mentioning, among others, Leonardo da Vinci, Shakespeare, and Oscar Wilde. What provoked Nielsen was Jæger’s assertion that the founder of theosophy, Helena Petrovna Blavatsky (1831–1891), “without a doubt” belonged to the same category. Ernst Nielsen considered this to be “vulgar gossip” unless Jæger could provide proof.[8]

In his reply in Dagbladet on November 30, Jæger referred to the Swedish physician Anton Nyström (1842–1931), who in a book—Om homosexualitet och hermafroditi—had claimed that Blavatsky was “a mixture of man and woman” and had never had intimate relationships with men. [9] Looking at what Nyström actually wrote, Jæger’s phrase “without a doubt” may have been an overstatement. According to Nyström, Blavatsky had many “intimate female relationships” in her youth, but one could not be certain about the nature of these relationships.[10]

Jæger, who was himself a devoted follower of theosophy, emphasized that he held Blavatsky in high regard and had not meant it in any negative way—there was nothing “to criticize about her morality.” [11] For Ernst Nielsen, the conclusion was that Jæger had failed to prove his claim, and he ended with the remark that one should not “cast slander on the minds of great people!” [12]

In his first letter, Nielsen had also expressed a clear stance on the issue itself. He hoped Jæger would stand alone in his campaign, “as not only the Penal Code but also all ‘decent people’ condemn homosexuality as one of humanity’s most repulsive vices.” [13]

The Third Sex

Jæger’s first letter had been titled “The Third Sex”, and both the title and his argument that homosexuality was an innate, non-pathological trait—as well as his reference to a body of literature on the subject in Germany—suggest that he had Magnus Hirschfeld’s theories in mind. Hirschfeld viewed homosexuals as belonging to a “third sex” or “sexual intermediates” (sexuelle Zwischenstufen), and he described it as a hereditary biological disposition that was neither pathological nor degenerative. Jæger had likely encountered these ideas through the aforementioned book by Anton Nyström, a 47-page pamphlet from 1919.

Nyström referred to both Hirschfeld and his own studies when he defined homosexuality as an anomaly found “in many physically and mentally completely healthy individuals, who are often distinguished by high intelligence and show no psychological defects.” [14] The love life of these individuals was the same as that of heterosexuals, the only difference being that it involved the same sex. [15] Nyström believed that recent research supported the view that homosexuality was an innate form of hermaphroditism.[16]

Inspired by Nyström, Jæger thus argued that homosexuality was an inborn, natural variation, and that same-sex love was based on the same feelings and values as heterosexual love. In doing so, he distanced himself both from the traditional view of homosexuality as a sinful vice and from the psychiatric theory that it was an acquired and “contagious” pathological condition.

Culture- and Health-Destroying Forces

It wasn’t only Ernst Nielsen who reacted to Jæger’s position. In a letter published in the newspaper Austland on December 6, Johan Ørjasæter (1902–1992) delivered a sharp critique of Jæger. Ørjasæter was appalled when he read Jæger’s article, which he believed “fawned over homosexuality.” He strongly disagreed with Jæger and saw it as vitally important that society protect itself against “decay” of this kind:

No, the law must keep its hand on the erotic predators and soft-bodied creatures who breathe rot and poison life! A society that does not want to undermine itself must recognize its responsibility. If a society removes punishment for such culture- and health-destroying forces, it is because it wants to bring about its own end—with a fine word: suicide.

Johan Ørjasæter, who was a teacher and church sexton in Setskog, Akershus, clearly held a strict traditional view that punishment for homosexuality was necessary. At the same time, he was also influenced by the newer medical understanding of the phenomenon: he believed that both those who were “sick” from birth and “those who had been infected by the vice” needed help to be cured.

Ørjasæter concluded accordingly with an appeal:

Our time needs hunters of those who want to destroy children, youth, and morality with their filth.

“Norway’s Strongest Man”

Whether Jæger ever became aware of Ørjasæter’s letter is uncertain; in any case, he did not respond to it. However, he did learn that the weightlifter, wrestler, and circus director Karl Norbeck (1867–1939) had strongly spoken out against him. Norbeck, also known as “Norway’s strongest man,” had been one of the central figures in the fascist party Den Nasjonale Legion, which was launched with great fanfare in 1927 but dissolved already in the spring of 1928 after a disastrous parliamentary election. [17]

In Oksfjordhamn, Jæger received a letter in the mail from an anonymous sender containing the article in which Norbeck had harshly criticized him. There was no information about where it had been published, and the article itself has not been located. From Jæger’s reply in Dagbladet on December 11, it appears that Norbeck had written something about two men or two women “sitting in restaurants or other gathering places—wearing trousers and kissing and cuddling each other.” Jæger responded in Dagbladet on December 11, 1928, that in his opinion, it was no more proper for a man and a woman to behave that way in public. It was not people who challenged the boundaries of propriety that Jæger wished to defend, but rather:

“[…] all the unfortunate—who cannot help their inclinations—who are driven to despair, even suicide, because they are regarded by others as ‘pariahs.’ It concerned all those who are capable and good people, and whom no one has the right to demand should live a more ascetic life than a heterosexual.” [18]

Jæger did “not at all believe that immorality in our country would increase if the aforementioned inhumane legal paragraph were removed.”

Consideration for the Healthy

Another opponent in the debate was a Chr. Benneche, most likely the artist Christian Benneche (1909–1936), who later became active in the National Socialist Ragnarok circle. He opposed Jæger’s view that homosexuality was primarily innate—arguing that this applied only to a minority. [19] Furthermore, he claimed that “consideration for the healthy should take precedence over consideration for the sick when it comes to preventing the spread of infection.” He referred to Sigmund Freud, who asserted that all people carry within them the seeds of every form of perversion: “Homosexuality is a childish inclination which, due to circumstances, has developed and taken the place of the natural drive.” This “illness,” he argued, was in most cases acquired through seduction by peers during childhood and adolescence. “This is where the law must be vigilant,” Benneche added.

He acknowledged that the penal provision was not particularly effective in practice, but insisted that it served a purpose by branding same-sex “offenses” as crimes in the public consciousness. This, he believed, had a deterrent effect and helped prevent overly blatant attempts at seduction.

Jæger Proposes a Petition Campaign

Alf Martin Jæger’s letter to the editor from November 15, 1928, sparked a modest debate during November and December of that year, in which he stood alone in defending his views. Whether more people than those we’ve identified here took part in the discussion is something we may not know until the National Library has digitized all Norwegian newspapers and periodicals.

An interesting new discovery is that Jæger did not give up entirely. Just over five months after the first article, on April 25, 1929, he published another letter—this time in Norges Kommunistblad. There, he referred back to his earlier piece from the previous autumn, in which he had emphasized “the horror of having a penal law for people who are innately homosexual.” The article had attracted some attention and had prompted “a few foolish responses from people who were clearly unfamiliar with the issue.” But Jæger now highlighted that he had also received a letter from a 29-year-old man who described living in constant fear that his “defect” would be discovered. Jæger believed this illustrated well the real effects of the law. He had no faith that punishment could prevent “infection” or “seduction”—those with knowledge in the field, he noted, believed that homosexuality was more widespread in countries where it was forbidden than in those where it was legal. He lamented that the legal system was still based on outdated Christian and Jewish views on the matter.

Jæger went on to suggest that Norway should follow the example of France by organizing a petition campaign to the authorities. He had likely confused France with Germany, where Magnus Hirschfeld had, since the turn of the century, led petition campaigns that had gained significant support.

I have found no response to this final letter, which was the fourth Jæger wrote since November 1928. Perhaps, with this, Jæger had the last word in the matter. Although there were people who agreed with him that the penal provision should be repealed (such as Karl Evang and Torgeir Kasa), it seems that the proposal for a petition campaign fell on deaf ears.

It is noteworthy that the letter was published in the main organ of the Norwegian Communist Party (NKP). Jæger himself was affiliated with the Labour Party, so it would have been more natural for him to express himself in Arbeiderbladet—or in Dagbladet, where the debate had originally taken place. The fact that the article ended up in a relatively marginal publication like Norges Kommunistblad suggests that he had not been able to get it published elsewhere.

In the Soviet Union, the ban on homosexuality had been lifted after the revolution that brought the communists to power in 1917. And in Germany, the communists were the strongest and most consistent supporters of the gay rights movement’s demand for decriminalization. The Norwegian NKP, however, had never made this a core issue—nor even one they were willing to actively promote—but the fact that Jæger’s views at the time aligned with the international “party line” may explain why the newspaper chose to publish it.

A Cry in the Wilderness

Jæger’s article did spark some debate, but it is perhaps just as striking that it was relatively marginal figures who participated in the discussion. At a time when homosexuality was considered a topic within the domain of psychiatrists and psychologists, one might have expected responses from these professionals. But unless the debate continued in publications other than Dagbladet, such responses appear to be absent. [20] Nor do we find any replies from religious authorities or from culturally radical authors.

One possible explanation is the widespread discretion surrounding this topic at the time. This may be due to the belief that it was unfortunate to draw attention to the issue at all, but it is also clear that homosexuality was not seen as a central topic in the moral debates of the interwar years. Other issues, such as sex education, contraception, and abortion, were at the forefront.

Nevertheless, it was remarkable that Jæger, both through novels and now by speaking out under his full name in a newspaper debate, had engaged with this issue. Since his youth, he had been a passionate socialist and was a well-known figure in the labor movement in Troms. In the small village of Oksfjordhamn, he was active in the local Labour Party chapter as secretary and had also been one of the May 1st speakers in 1928. He later held other positions of trust in the party and, in the early 1930s, was for a time elected to the municipal council in Skjervøy. However, it was not as a local politician that he made his most distinct mark as a prominent voice in the northern Norwegian labor movement, but as a writer in the party press. He was a notable book reviewer in the Labour Party’s leading regional outlet, Nordlys.

Alf Martin Jæger’s initiative to spark a debate on homosexuality in 1928 must be seen as a protest and a (relatively unsuccessful) attempt to put the issue on the agenda—a cry in the wilderness, so to speak. He did this by asserting that homosexuality was an innate, non-pathological, and “non-contagious” trait—a strategy that underpinned the contemporary homosexual movement in Germany and would later form the basis for the gay rights movement that emerged in Norway and other European countries after World War II.

This is a revised and expanded version of an article originally published in the journal MELK no. 6 (2018). The article by Johan Ørjasæter and Jæger’s article in Norges Kommunistblad were not included in the original version. Thanks to artist Kari Anne Augustsen for allowing us to use the illustration she created for the 2018 article.

 

Referansar

• [1] Gatland, Jan Olav 1983, "Homofile tema i norsk litteratur", Samtiden 92 (2) :74-79 og Gatland, Jan Olav. 1990.Mellom linjene. Homofile tema i norsk litteratur. Oslo Aschehoug.  Homodebatten i 1928 presenterte eg først i ein artikkel i 2017: Jordåen, Runar. 2018 «Arktisk homokamp», Syn og segn nr 2 (2017): 66–73.

[2] Dagbladet 25.10.1928.

[3] Adresseavisen 07.07.1928.

[4] Arbeiderbladet 07.07.1928. Foredraget var skrive av Hirschfeld si kampfelle frå homorørsla, Kurt Hiller (1885–1972).

[5] Jordåen, Runar. «’Homoskandale!’ Sosialdemokrati, sensasjon og seksualitet i Bergen i 1909». I «Han e’ søkkane go’!» Et festskrift til byarkivar Arne Skivenes, redigert av Ragnhild Botheim m.fl., 424–445.Oslo: ABM-media.

[6] Dagbladet 15.11.1928.

[7] Etter 1945 var han generalsekretær i Norsk Teosofisk Samfunn. Sørensen, Eli H, «Teosofi og norrøn mytologi – universelt budskap i nasjonal drakt» I Skjult visdom – universelt brorskap. Teosofi i Norge, redigert av Ingvild Sælid Gilhus og Lisbeth Mikaelsson, 109-124. Oslo: Emilia, 1998, 107.

[8] Dagbladet 16.11.1928.

[9] Dagbladet 30.11.1928.

[10] Nyström, Anton. Om homosexualitet och hermafroditi. Belysning af missförstådda existenser, Stockholm: Svanbäck & Komp, 13.

[11] Dagbladet 30. 11.1928.

[12] Dagbladet 6.12.1928.

[13] Dagbladet 16.11.1928.

[14] Nyström, Om homosexualitet och hermafroditi, 8.

[15] Ibid, 15.

[16] Ibid, 10.

[17] Sjå Emberland 2015.

[18] Dagbladet 11.12.1928.

[19] Dagbladet 10. 12.1928.

[20] Eg har også søkt på namnet til Jæger og andre relevante ord i Nasjonalbiblioteket sine digitaliserte aviser utan å finna nokre andre spor etter at debatten blei førd vidare.