Fridtjof Nansen

The world claimed Fridtjof Nansen, but he was firmly rooted in
Norway. He was born into a family with a distinguished record
of public service. The outstanding qualities of leadership and the
compelling urge to probe the unknown had already been strongly
evident in his ancestors. On the maternal side of his family was
Count Wedel Jarlsberg, commander-in-chief of the Norwegian
army at the time when Christian V was king of both Denmark
and Norway. On his father's side was Hans Nansen, one-time
mayor of Copenhagen, who also explored the White Sea. In
character Fridtjof Nansen is said to have resembled most of all
his mother; a capable, industrious woman, who ran the large
household efficiently while still finding time to study and
improve her mind. His gentler qualities, which came more to the
forefront in later life, came perhaps from his quieter, more
ascetic father, a lawyer of repute and a man of unswerving
integrity. 

By most standards, and certainly by those of his times, Fridtjof
Nansen had a privileged childhood, from his birth in October
1861. His family was never troubled by the spectre of poverty
which haunted so many at that time. In his formative years he
had many opportunities to pursue his innumerable interests. In
the spacious farmhouse at Store Frøen, near Christiania (now
Oslo), he spent a happy boyhood, together with his brother
Alexander and a number of half-brothers and sisters. Though
now urbanized, Store Frøen was at that time a rural paradise.
Immediately behind it lay the expansive tracts of Nordmarka, the
forest area north of Christiania. Here the young Nansen's love of
the outdoors was born, among the solitude of the endless stands
of stream-laced pine and spruce. 

Although his family was relatively wealthy, Nansen was taught
the value of hard work and discipline at an early age. Plain food
and simple living characterized the family at Store Frøen. 

A man of many talents 

Nansen's budding ability in many fields of activity soon became
apparent. As a boy his insatiable curiosity and determination to
see things through singled him out from his contemporaries. As a
young man he was an outstanding skater and skier. He won the
national cross-country skiing championship twelve times in
succession, and at eighteen broke the world record for one-mile
skating. His sporting activities gave him the physique, stamina
and endurance that were to serve him so well during later trials. 

Fridtjof Nansen's interests and talents were so diverse that he
was hard put to select a course of study when he entered the
University of Christiania. Although he greatly preferred physics
and mathematics, he believed that zoology studies would allow
him to spend more time in the open air; so that was the course
of study he selected. The subject he was later to probe so
deeply, oceanography, was still in its infancy. 

The call of the north 

Nansen's lifelong passion for the far north was kindled during
student days, when at a tutor's suggestion, in 1882, he took
passage aboard a sealing vessel to the Arctic Ocean. On board
the "Viking" he was to make notes on winds, ocean currents, ice
movements, and animal life. Nansen did his job well. Second
best was never good enough for his uncompromising nature. He
made valuable scientific observations; copious notes that were
illustrated by excellent sketches. 

At this time too he started to write the many diaries that have
given posterity such fascinating glimpses into the inner recesses
of his mind. 

Apart from the scientific aspects, a significant result of the
voyage with the "Viking" was not just that it marked the
beginning of Nansen's commitment to the north. It had also set
his inquisitive mind on the track of fresh theories. A piece of
driftwood on the ice sparked a train of thought that finally
culminated in the voyage of the "Fram". Nansen was intrigued at
the presence of the driftwood and was puzzled as to which
direction it could have come from. His final theory that it could
only have drifted from Siberia was later fully substantiated by
the findings aboard the "Fram." 

Before this event, however, Nansen was to undertake the
journey that first brought his name to public attention. Aboard
the "Viking" he had caught tantalizing glimpses of the eastern
coast of Greenland, a seaboard shrouded in mystery at that time.
No one but the Inuit had set foot on the eastern coast. No
European had penetrated far into the inland snowfields. The idea
of crossing the inland icecap took root in Nansen at that time,
though he was not to undertake the journey until 1888. 

The academic life 

On his return from the voyage on board the "Viking", Nansen
was offered the post of curator of the natural history collection
at the Bergen Museum, a flattering offer for a man of only
twenty; fresh out of University. 

The six years Nansen spent in Bergen were devoted to intense
study, not outdoors as he had hoped, but in the laboratory. The
transition from the rugged days aboard the Arctic sealer to the
quiet daily routine of the laboratory, painstakingly studying
minute animals through microscopes, was abrupt. His chosen
theme of study was among the most difficult and exacting in
zoology: the central nervous system. One of his papers, "The
Structure and Combination of Histological Elements of the
Central Nervous System" (1887), earned him his doctorate. It
contained so many novel interpretations that the examining
committee accepted it with a degree of skepticism. Today it is
regarded as a classic. 

On ski across Greenland 

At the back of Nansen's mind all the time he was studying in
Bergen was his project to cross the Greenland icecap, and in
1887, he embarked on the preparations for the journey. His plan
was daring and original — foolhardy in the opinion of many.
Instead of landing on the inhabited west coast, and striking
inland from there, he planned to land on the east coast and move
west. He reasoned that by starting from the west the team would
have to make the return trip by the same route, as no ships
would await it on the inhospitable east coast. That meant double
the distance to cover compared with an east-west trek. Starting
on the east coast meant that there would be no retreat; there was
only one way to go — forward. This was a philosophy that
suited Nansen's all-or-nothing attitude perfectly. Burning bridges
behind him was a strategy that he was later to employ again, and
with equal success. 

The task facing the team was formidable. The east coast was
almost permanently barred by a belt of drifting ice, packed and
driven by the powerful polar current. Ships and men had been
lost in its grip. Huge icebergs drifted in the few sheltered bays,
and overhanging glaciers threatened to break off at any moment.
Immediately behind this grim barrier lay the chain of mountains
that rimmed the coast. 

"Nansen, still only 27 years of age, had led his team, without
mishap, where no man had trod before." 

Finance was another obstacle. Despite the University's
recommendation, the national assembly was loath to grant
money to such a hazardous project, one whose benefit to
science seemed dubious. However, one thousand dollars from a
well-to-do merchant in Copenhagen was sufficient to set the ball
rolling. 

The painstaking manner that the expedition was planned
characterized Nansen's work, both then and later. Every move
was scrupulously planned, and the ultimate success of the
venture was largely dependent upon his devoted attention to the
tiniest detail. 

The six-man expedition set forth in June 1888. On July 17th the
men left the safety of the ship, expecting to row to land in their
open boats within 2-3 hours. It took 12 days. Not until July 29th
were they able to set foot on land, and then only at a point 300
miles to the south of their original goal. Adverse winds and
currents swept them far to the south. When ice floes closed in
around them they were forced to drag the boats over them until
they reached open water again. Finally, almost one month after
leaving the ship they were able to start the actual trek across the
ice cap, having successfully scaled the precipitous cliffs that
bordered it. The trek across the icecap along a route well south
of the one originally planned, lasted until late September, when
after almost super-human effort in temperatures that fell to 50
below zero, they finally reached the west coast. Nansen, still
only 27 years of age, had led his team, without mishap, where
no man had trod before. Throughout the back-breaking journey
the team had also made careful record of meteorological
conditions, and other important scientific facts. 

No boats were due to leave Greenland until the following spring,
so Nansen spent the enforced winter in Greenland studying the
Inuits and gathering material for his subsequent book "Eskimo
Life" (1891). 

In May 1889 Nansen and his men returned in triumph to
Norway, to a reception befitting national heroes. 

The "Fram" quest takes shape 

But Nansen did not rest on his laurels. His mind was still
wrestling with the question of the driftwood he had observed on
the ice floe off Greenland. Further evidence of an east-west
ocean current had come to light when pieces of equipment
belonging to the "Jeanette," an American vessel that had
foundered north of Siberia in 1879, were discovered off
Greenland. Nansen was convinced that these too had followed
the drift of an arctic current that must flow from Siberia,
towards the North Pole and from there down to Greenland. His
plan was to build a ship strong enough to withstand the ice
pressure, to sail it north from Siberia until it froze in the ice
pack, and to remain in the ship while it drifted west towards the
Pole and to Greenland. He expounded his theory to the
Norwegian Geographical Society and the Royal Geographical
Society of London. His plan met head-shaking skepticism from
scholars, who did not believe that such a ship could be built, and
who said that the voyage was tantamount to suicide. 

The Norwegians, however, believed in their new young hero.
The Storting granted a large part of the necessary expenses for
the expedition. Subscriptions from the King, and from private
individuals provided the rest. 

'The next three years were spent on preparations. A ship was to
be built and Nansen collaborated with famous shipbuilder Colin
Archer to design it. The result was the "Fram" (Forward). 

The "Fram" was no beauty. Visitors viewing it today in its
special museum outside Oslo may consider it squat and ugly. But
it was supremely fitted to its task. The three-layered hull, of oak
and greenheart was immensely strong, braced as it was with
heavy beams in all directions. Its rounded shape gave the ice
nothing to grip. When the ice started to exert its tremendous
pressure the "Fram" would simply be pushed upwards. Fore and
aft it was iron-clad. The living quarters were warm and cozy.
There was a well-stocked library, and games and musical
instruments that would help the men pass the many weary
months they were to spend on board. 

Nansen chose twelve men to accompany him on the journey,
including Otto Sverdrup, who had crossed Greenland with him,
and who was to captain the ship. In June 1893 the expedition left
Christiania, with provisions for six years and fuel oil for eight.
Nansen believed the trip would take two to three years. But he
took no chances with other peoples' lives. He was leaving behind
his wife Eva (formerly Eva Sars), a promising young singer, and
a six-month old daughter, Liv. 

"At the age of only 35, Nansen had more accomplishments to his
credit than many distinguished older men." 

After the voyage up the coast of Norway, "Fram" struck east,
moving far along the coast of Siberia. The course was changed
to north and on September 20 the "Fram" reached the pack ice,
the rudder and propeller were pulled in and the "Fram" was
prepared for its long drift westwards with the ice. 

Alone in the ice 

The "Fram" proved fully adequate to its task. During the three
years that the team was completely isolated from the outside
world, she proved a safe and comfortable haven. Even when the
dreaded pressure ridges of ice threatened to crush the tiny,
400-ton vessel, beneath their enormous weight, the "Fram" stood
the test, and emerged as watertight and secure as when she had
been built. 

The dangers were not only physical, but also mental. Boredom,
and the sapping of energy that accompanied it, was a constant
threat. Nansen met it with careful plans to keep the men
constantly occupied with useful work on a fixed schedule.
Scientific observations were an important part of this. 

Progress was painfully slow, and after many frustrating months
the "Fram" had moved only slightly. Nansen's restless spirit
found it hard to cope with the monotony of life on board. The
"Fram" did not appear to be drifting as close to the Pole as he
had hoped. He decided to make a dash for the Pole, taking with
him one of the strongest and most stalwart of his men, Hjalmar
Johansen. Finding the ship again would be impossible, so Nansen
planned to make for Spitsbergen, or Franz Josef Land after
reaching the Pole, leaving the "Fram" in the capable hands of
Otto Sverdrup. 

The bid for the Pole 

On March 14th 1895 Nansen and Johansen left the ship with
dogs, kayaks and sledges they made a desperate bid for the Pole.
But once again their progress was pitifully slow, and the
conditions worse than expected. Finally, at 86 degrees 14
minutes north, the closest to the Pole any man had come, they
decided to turn back, and to make for Franz Josef Land. 

The three-hundred mile journey cost five months of exhausting
labor. Finally Nansen and Johansen arrived at the island which
Nansen later named Jackson Island, after the British explorer.
There they spent the nine months of winter in a tiny hut that
they built from stones. 

In May of the following year the two men broke camp and
started their journey south. In mid June, however, they had the
almost unbelievable good fortune to meet on the ice Frederick
Jackson, leader of a British scientific and exploratory expedition
working in Franz Josef Land. The two Norwegians returned with
him to the British headquarters. 

Two months later, on August 13th 1896 Jackson's expedition
vessel deposited Nansen and Johansen at the port of Vardø in
north Norway. Unbeknown to them the "Fram" had on the same
day shaken off the last of the pack ice near Spitsbergen and was
steaming south for the first time in three years. Only one week
after Nansen and Johansen's arrival the "Fram" cast anchor in
the far north port of Skjervøy. As Nansen had correctly
predicted, it had drifted west with the currents. 

Home in triumph 

Nansen and his 12 man-team made a triumphal progress down
the coast of Norway, reaching Christiania on September 9th.
They were ecstatically received. The nation that had so long
been subservient to the Danes and the Swedes was locked in a
crisis with Sweden over the issue of the union. War threatened.
Norway needed national leaders, and here was one cast in a
mighty mould. At the age of only 35, Nansen had more
accomplishments to his credit than many distinguished older
men. 

"Reportedly, he was also secretly requested to become either
president or king, when the new form of government was
decided." 

In all the clamor and the adulation for the heroic aspects of
Nansen's journey it was perhaps easy to overlook its scientific
significance. His research had provided invaluable new
knowledge. It had proved beyond doubt that there was no land
close to the Pole on the Eurasian side, but a deep, ice-covered
ocean. The men had discovered a current of warm, Atlantic
water at some depth below the polar ice, and compiled
information on currents, winds, and temperatures that scientists
would use for many years. For the new science of
oceanography, the voyage of the "Fram" was of major
significance. For Nansen himself it marked the turning point in
his scientific work. Oceanography became the focus of his
research. 

For many years Professor Nansen, as he had then become,
devoted his attention to the study of the oceans. Alternating
work at the University of Christiania with field expeditions, he
cruised extensively in both the Norwegian Sea and the Atlantic
Ocean. There he compiled scientific data and dredged for plant
and animal life. His findings showed the influence of the sea on
land climates more clearly than had ever been shown before. 

A new role 

For Nansen the step from explorer and scientist to statesmen
was not a long one. His qualities of leadership had been clearly
demonstrated. He was respected and esteemed by his
countrymen 

By 1905 the disagreement on the union between Norway and
Sweden had deepened into a crisis. Norway was insisting on its
own government. It wished its foreign policy to be put in the
hands of the king, and not the Swedish foreign minister, as the
Swedes had decided in 1885. By August 1905 matters had come
to a head, and the Norwegian people had voted for a total split
with Sweden. During the tense period when war seemed
imminent, Fridtjof Nansen sought to instill bravery into his
countrymen, calling on them to "Go forward, forward to a free
Norway". 

When the Swedes made demands that were totally unacceptable
to the Norwegians, Nansen was hastily dispatched, first to
Copenhagen, and then to Britain, where he spent almost a month
convincing the British of the justice of the Norwegian cause.
Gradually the demands were tempered, on both sides, and by
mid October a treaty was signed releasing Norway from Swedish
rule. 

Nansen's standing among the Norwegians was such that in 1905
he was asked to act as Norway's prime minister. Reportedly, he
was also secretly requested to become either president or king,
when the new form of government was decided. He declined
both offers, on the grounds that he was " a scientist and
explorer." However, he played a personal part in bringing to the
vacant Norwegian throne the Danish Prince Carl, who took the
Norwegian name Haakon VII. 

The years in London 

In spite of his strong wish to remain a scientist, Nansen did not
decline when King Haakon asked him to become Norway's
ambassador in London, where he served from 1906-1908. The
mid year of this period, 1907, had been a sad one for Nansen.
His wife, Eva, died suddenly, and previous to that he had
relinquished all hopes of leading an expedition to the South Pole.
He had planned in detail a major expedition to this unknown
continent. However, the young explorer Roald Amundsen had
asked him for the "Fram,"or a lengthy voyage north of Siberia
that might yield invaluable oceanic discoveries. 

Nansen's South Pole expedition was to be his life's achievement.
He might need the "Fram" to carry out what would probably be
the crowning scientific achievement of his career. He pondered
the question, and with characteristic unselfishness, but a heavy
heart, decided to hand the "Fram" over to Roald Amundsen. 

Pleading for Norway 

World War I brought an abrupt end to oceanic research and
exploration for more than four years. Norway remained neutral
but encountered serious difficulties when the USA, entering the
war in 1917, placed restrictions on the export of food. A
commission was dispatched to Washington, with Fridtjof Nansen
at its head. For more than a year he led the long and often
exasperating fight to secure food for Norway without giving up
the country's neutrality. Finally, cutting through the bureaucratic
jungle, he took matters into his own hands, and signed an
agreement giving Norway yearly shipments of essential supplies
in return for certain concessions. 

World War I aroused in Fridtjof Nansen an abhorrence for the
senseless slaughter of warfare. When the League of Nations
began to take shape after the war he worked tirelessly for its
success, and was for many years Norway's delegate at its
assemblies. In the negotiations prior to its establishment, the
small, neutral nations had been virtually forgotten. The major
nations dictated the terms. The small ones looked on.
Nevertheless, Nansen saw in the League a new hope for
mankind and he persuaded not only Norway, but also the other
Scandinavian countries to apply for membership as soon as this
was permitted; and Norway duly joined. 

Work for the forgotten men 

His work in this field completed, Nansen planned to devote the
rest of his life to his chosen vocation, science. He had been a
reluctant statesman and diplomat. He was entitled to retire from
the international field with a clear conscience. 

But the new League of Nations thought otherwise. Suffering in
prison camps in Europe and Asia were half a million forgotten
men, prisoners of war, who had fought for Germany and its
allies. Locked in the grip of the Revolution, the Russians were
largely indifferent to their fate. Many of the prisoners no longer
had a homeland. They knew nothing of their families and little of
what had occurred, and they were dying in thousands from cold
and hunger. 

The League of Nations faced the enormous task of repatriating
these men or giving them a new homeland. Obviously the work
must be led by a man of special caliber, one who could act
quickly and resolutely, and who commanded the trust and
respect of the international community. The choice fell on
Fridtjof Nansen. 

Though Nansen at first said "no" to the request, the repeated
persuasions of the League soon had their effect. In April 1920 he
left Christiania to start his difficult mission. The Soviet
government would not recognize the League of Nations, and
there were virtually no funds available for the task of feeding,
clothing and transporting the men from the camps. 

Though Nansen's great wish was to continue his scientific work,
he saw in the task now facing him great possibilities. He could
help prove that the League of Nations was a practical tool for
improving the lot of mankind, and not just an idealistic vision.
Also he could help the men whose sufferings touched him
profoundly. 

Such was the stature of Fridtjof Nansen that the Soviet
authorities agreed to negotiate with him personally. Funds were
somehow raised, and the gigantic task put in hand. By
September of 1922 Nansen was able to tell the League of
Nations that the mission had been accomplished. The Nansen
Relief organization had succeeded. Well over 400,000 prisoners
of war had been repatriated, not only quickly, but at amazingly
low cost. 

Help for the starving 

By now more than 60 years old, Nansen still yearned most of all
to return to Norway to pursue his scientific interests and spend
time with his family. But his talents were needed by the world.
Even before the last of the prisoners of war had been repatriated
or relocated in new homelands, another crisis had struck. A
failure of the crops in the Russian grain growing areas brought
famine to 20 million people. Epidemics followed in its wake. The
International Committee of the Red Cross appealed to Nansen to
lead a project to help the people of the famine-stricken areas.
Once again he put his own interests aside to come to the aid of
others. He made an agreement with the Soviets authorizing him
to open in Moscow an office of the International Russian Relief
Executive. But his appeals to the League of Nations for funds to
finance the work met deaf ears. The League was unwilling to aid
a Communist country. 

Through fund-raising tours Nansen succeeded in raising some
finances, though not sufficient to save all of the starving people,
and thousands of them died. This partial defeat affected him
deeply. Nansen was a stranger to failure, at least in most of his
quests, and the adamant refusal of the League of Nations was a
blow to his vision of its potential. However, he was able to bring
help to many people, particularly in the Ukraine and the Volga
districts. 

Refugee aid 

Parallel to the famine project Nansen also organized and led
another major one; that of aiding the 2 million hapless Russians
who had fled both revolution, and counter-revolution and were
being shuttled from country to country like cattle. So many
countries close to the USSR were involved that a central leader
was needed who would could negotiate with many different
governments. The League asked Nansen to act as High
Commissioner for Refugees, with the task of coordinating all the
relief organizations 

The prime task was to provide the refugees with an accepted
means of identification. This would not only give them status,
but the possibility of procuring a passport. Nansen proposed that
certificates be issued giving the most 

"In recognition of his work for refugees and the famine-stricken,
the Nobel Committee in Oslo decided to honor Fridtjof Nansen
with the 1922 Nobel Prize for Peace." 

Many governments agreed to recognize the "Nansen passports"
and thousands of stateless people were enabled to travel and to
settle in other countries. He himself approached the governments
and managed to persuade them to accept quotas of refugees. 

The greatest single achievement in Nansen's refugee work was
probably the resettlement of several hundred thousand Greeks
and Turks who fled to Greece in 1922 from eastern Thrace and
Asia Minor following the defeat of the Greek Army by the
Turks. Poverty-stricken Greece was unable to receive them.
Nansen devised an unprecedented scheme. An exchange of
populations would be effected between Greece and Turkey. Half
a million Turks would be returned from Greece to Asia Minor,
receiving full compensation for their financial losses. Further, a
League of Nations loan would enable the Greek government to
provide new villages and industries for the homecoming Greeks,
who would take the place of the Turks. The ambitious plan took
eight years to complete, but it worked perfectly. 

Nobel laureate 

In recognition of his work for refugees and the famine-stricken,
the Nobel Committee in Christiania decided to honor Fridtjof
Nansen with the 1922 Nobel Prize for Peace. He was only the
second Norwegian to gain this distinction. Typically, he donated
the money to international relief efforts. 

From 1925 onwards, Nansen devoted much of his time to aiding
Armenian refugees. Then, as now, they were a troubled people.
After the Turkish massacres they had been driven into the desert
to die. Nansen argued their cause. He worked incessantly to
provide them with a homeland, or to raise funds to help them
develop irrigated areas in the deserts. His aid plans were turned
down by the League of Nations. His requests for funds met little
response. These setbacks affected him deeply. He tendered his
resignation as High Commissioner for Refugees — but the
League refused to accept it. Despite this failure Nansen's work
for the Armenians increased his standing to such a degree that,
even today, his name is highly revered among them. 

Nansen continued his work in the League of Nations. In the
Assemblies of 1925 to 1929 he played a major role in securing
the adoption of a convention against forced labor in colonial
territories, and in preparations for a disarmament conference. 

A quiet end 

Despite his keen interest in national defense — Nansen became
the president of the defense association of Norway in 1915 —
disarmament was an issue of burning importance to him. The
final resolution to convene a disarmament conference in 1932
was made at the eleventh Assembly of the League in 1930. But
Nansen's place in the hall was vacant. On May 13th, he had died
quietly, at his beloved home, Polhøgda, near Oslo. 

The clarity of Nansen's vision, and his ability to cut through
petty detail to arrive at a lofty goal were precious qualities in
troubled times. The world needed Nansen then. It needs a
Nansen now.