(RNS) — Speaking to Jake Tapper of CNN about the proposed takeover of Greenland from Denmark — which could effectively end NATO and throw our civilization to the wolves — Trump aide Stephen Miller said, “We live in a world in which you can talk all you want about international niceties and everything else, but we live in a world, in the real world, Jake, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power.”
No wonder Miller’s childhood rabbi has criticized him as a purveyor of “negativity, violence, malice and brutality” who learned nothing from his Jewish spiritual education. This Hobbesian ethic is precisely the opposite of what the Talmudic rabbis meant when they said the world stands on, among other things, acts of kindness, truth and peace (Avot 1:2,18).
They also stated: “Be careful in your dealings with the ruling authorities, for they do not befriend a person except for their own needs. They seem like friends when it is to their own interest, but they do not stand by anyone in the hour of distress (Avot 2:3).”
We shake our heads at how often current American ruling authorities have failed innocent people in their hour of distress. But the Danes — currently in the administration’s crosshairs because of their responsibility for, though not ownership of, Greenland — are trust personified.
In 1943, the Danes stood by their Jewish population when almost no one else did. They ferried more than 7,000 Jews to safety from the Nazis, plus close to 700 non-Jewish relatives, at enormous risk, via an “underground railroad” by sea. Contrast that with how President Donald Trump’s forces “ferry” immigrants, including American citizens, to imprisonment in other countries, rather than to freedom and life. The Danes’ account must be retold whenever anyone starts falling into a Miller malaise, cynically believing the world is governed by force alone.
It is a disproven urban legend that King Christian X and citizens of Denmark wore yellow stars to protect Jews, as in Denmark the Germans never forced Jews to wear them, so it would not have been necessary for others to follow. But the Danes, including their political leaders, did what most other non-Jews in Europe didn’t during the Nazi reign of terror: They risked all to save innocent people — to save Jews.
The Danes lived in a world governed, in the words of the Prophet Zachariah, “not by might, not by power, but by the divine spirit.” And by kindness.
For that alone, Denmark earns a permanent get-out-of-jail-free card from all peace-loving people. Danes do not deserve to have their sovereignty violated. No one does.
A recent expose in The New Yorker acknowledges that the relationship between Denmark and Greenland is complicated but also demonstrates how the two populaces are united in their anger toward Trump’s anti-Denmark tactics. Those tactics have a direct impact on Americans too, particularly those living in my northeastern neck of the woods. The Danish energy company Ørsted’s billion-dollar Revolution Wind project, designed to provide cheap wind power to residents in Connecticut and Rhode Island, has been under constant attack by the administration. Even though the nearly completed project is being protected by the courts for the moment, Trump’s animus toward wind turbines knows no bounds, and Danes are seething at these attacks.
They, like most Europeans, don’t seem to like America very much at the moment. And in this tug-of-war, I feel a moral obligation to defend the Danes over my own government, and it isn’t even close.
Yes, there’s been antisemitism in Denmark, highlighted by an ISIS-inspired terror shooting at a bat mitzvah at a Copenhagen synagogue in 2015. And since Oct. 7, 2023, there has been an escalation in antisemitic attacks.
But remember 1943. Denmark still deserves our eternal gratitude.
Several years ago, I visited the synagogue where the Copenhagen attack took place and took note that above the entrance is inscribed the Hebrew phrase “Baruch ha-ba b’shem Adonai,” meaning “Welcome to all who enter in God’s name.” The sign is so perfect for Denmark, which, although its immigration policies have moved from among the most liberal in Europe to far more restrictive, still carries the aura of 1943. That halo can never be erased.
A sign in Hebrew reading “Baruch ha-ba b’shem Adonai,” which means “Welcome to all who enter in God’s name” above an entrance to the Great Synagogue in Copenhagen, Denmark. (Photo by Joshua Hammerman)
Sadly, when you pull back the lens, you see that the welcome sign sits on a building that is heavily fortified, hardly looking like a place designed to welcome anybody. Still, Denmark remains a trusting country, where, according to The New Yorker, people still leave their baby carriages unguarded on the sidewalks of Copenhagen when the sun is shining.
A young congregant of mine who was studying in Copenhagen at the time of the 2015 attack took note of that custom and wrote to me then, saying: “The Danes have welcomed me so warmly during my first month here and I’m looking forward to the next 3 months I have in Scandinavia and Europe (and for the sun to be a more frequent visitor). Copenhagen is such a beautiful city. Hatred does not belong here; it doesn’t belong anywhere.”
While I suppose the baby carriages are safe, it’s best not to leave any Nobel Peace Prizes under the blanket.
Former President John F. Kennedy famously told the people of Berlin in their time of isolation at the hands of another bully nation, “Ich bin ein Berliner” (“I am a Berliner”). Today, I proudly declare — on behalf of all kindness-embracing people of the free world — “Jeg er dansker!”
Denmark was the most righteous among the nations. We need to emulate its stunning heroism rather than Stephen Miller’s social Darwinist ethic of “might makes right.” It’s what the ancient rabbis would have done.
The world stands on judgment, truth, peace and acts of lovingkindness. The rabbis knew that 2,000 years ago. Denmark reminded us in 1943. Now, we need to return the favor.
(Rabbi Joshua Hammerman is the author of “Mensch-Marks: Life Lessons of a Human Rabbi” and “Embracing Auschwitz: Forging a Vibrant, Life-Affirming Judaism That Takes the Holocaust Seriously.” See more of his writing at his Substack page, “In This Moment.” The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of RNS.)
