In 1973 I had never been to the United States before. The closest I had come to it was on board an Icelandic deep-sea trawler, fishing off the coast of New Foundland. That´s how I financed my university education in Scotland and Sweden. I was then imbued with the feeling that my ancestors, the Viking explorers, of the 10th and 11th centuries, had been here a thousand years earlier – 500 years ahead of Columbus. Why hadn´t they remained as settlers and conquerors? That remains one of he greatest mysteries of history, unsolved by my nostalgic return.

Why did Ambassador Erving pick me for the international program? A youthful opponent of the Icelandic US defense relationship? A conspicious organizer against any retreat from our fullest claims in extending our exclusive economic zone to 200 miles. A prominent left-wing ideologue, but with no secure power base or a visible political future.

A shrewd fellow, by hindsight, Ambassador Erving. I stem from a highly political family, who had strong ties to the Nordic and European left, but none to the United States. Conspicuously, I was to be studying community colleges. As a matter of fact, I don´t remember any. This was the summer of Water Gate, the impeachement of president Richard Nixon live on TV. I learned more about the politics of mass media during those few weeks than any time before or since.

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