Adoptionens dunkle historie

The dark history of adoption

New book tells the story of the 1950s and 1960s illegal adoptions from abroad and, not least, the one-man army, Tytte Botfeldt, who on his own raised African children to Danish couples and helped to establish the adoption organizations we know today

Potential adopters must have "good mental health, a healthy harmonious personality, a good marriage, a nuanced environment," wrote county social director and later chairman of the Youth Commission Lars Lundgaard in 1982 on the adoption of foreign children and continued:

“It is not just super people who fulfill these conditions. But there must be surplus and harmony. It is also there in the ordinary Danish family. "

About 15 years ago, the market for illegal adoptions was tried to be brought under control by issuing permits to the persons and organizations that had for years provided Afrotish children to Danish couples in direct contravention of the legislation.

However, what had not changed from the illegal 'child import' of the 1950s to the regulated adoption industry of the 1980s was the belief in 'profits and harmony' in the 'ordinary Danish family'. A view that has for 60 years now legitimized adoptions from abroad to Denmark. Whether they are 'illegitimate' children of white German women and African American soldiers, children of single mothers in Korea or of afflicted Ethiopian parents, the argument has been to retrieve these children, cross-border them and install them in new homes in Denmark was that they would be better off here. Because there is surplus and harmony in the ordinary Danish family.

children Imports

In a new book, the three journalists Amalie Linde, Amalie Königsfeldt and Matilde Hørmand-Pallesen tell the story of how organized adoptions from abroad to Denmark began. About the one-man army Tytte Botfeldt, who firmly believed that any family in Denmark would be preferable to the German-born "mulatto children" (a word the authors themselves choose to use). About the Danish couples who would like to avoid waiting lists and checks. About the "idealists" who wanted to show the cabinet Nazis south of the border that here in Denmark we could withstand a little racial mixing. About the Danish politicians, who for a decade chose to look through fingers with Tytte Botfeldt's dissemination center. And not least about the adoptees who, without being asked or informed, suddenly found themselves in strangers who, as adoptive parents, found themselves in the spectrum of evenly unharmed individuals, like most people, to decidedly unbalanced and life-threatening perpetrators.

The dead adoptive children

Child import - A dark chapter in the story of foreign adoption is based on interviews with 35 of the adopted people who came to Denmark from West Germany in the 1950s and 1960s. The authors also interviewed a number of the actors involved in Forgotten Children - now DanAdopt and AC Children's Aid - and in Terre Des Hommes, who was denied his authorization to mediate adoption in 1999 following a case of Romanian children with false medical certificates.

Already 30 years before, both Forgotten Children and Terre Des Hommes had been linked to a far greater scandal, which most over 50 years will remember from the media: Child psychiatrist Ole Brems sat on the board of both the private adoption associations and the county Nursing Home Association, which stood for the approval of adopters. Together with his wife Lise, he adopted nine children from, among others. Germany. Three of them died, and in the book the surviving adoptive child tells Iben about an incomprehensible vicious abuse. Ole Brems, who provided his mentally ill wife with large quantities of, among other things. morphine, even made the death certificates and burned the corpses. Due to lack of evidence, Ole Brems was sentenced to only two years in prison and deprived of his medical authorization for two years - and could then resume his practice. Lise Brems was sentenced to four years in prison and permanently deprived of the right to work as a nurse. Until Lise Brems' death in prison, Tytte Botfeldt, who continued to mediate adoptions, had frequent letter contact with her.

Offenses - without references

The authors have also been in the archives and found meeting minutes, reports from the parliamentary level, newspaper articles and private letter collections etc. from the present. All this serves as evidence that both middlemen, ministers and the public knew of the extensive illegal adoption traffic from abroad. Even after the granting of authorizations, organizations repeatedly broke the law without major consequences.

Unfortunately, there are no source references throughout the book, but just a complete list of sources for each chapter. That choice is arguably made on the grounds of readability. But if something stops the reading flow, it is always wondering where a specific piece of information comes from. It also makes the book weaker both as a charge against the actors of the time and as a basis for further investigations.

Psychosocial focus

The life stories and interpretations of the adoptees of the same are at the center of the book and unfold alongside the description of Tytte Botfeldt's work and the formation of the adoption organizations we know today. The portrait part leaves something to be desired; you get the feeling of life, but not really of the people behind it. In the same way, it is somewhat uncertain what it really was for a societal context that the Afrotish children came to and fro in the 1950s and 1960s.

On the other hand, much attention is paid to psychosocial consequences of and explanatory models for the course of adoptions, and thus the book enters into a tradition in adoption research that diminishes the focus on systemic contexts in favor of a curious look at the individual.

Important pieces to the story

In the last chapters, the authors sample their own questionnaire surveys with all kinds of recent and older research without the distinction that parts of this research position themselves in direct conflict with one another. This is also where the authors pick up on the relevance of history to today's adoption debate - i.a. through counterfactual questions such as whether it was, after all, not better for the adopted to come to Denmark than if they had stayed in Germany. A question the authors themselves acknowledge can never be answered. This is precisely why one might wonder that it is always asked.

That said, it is commendable that the authors have found the first generations of adoptees from abroad adopted to give them the word and have tried to document decades of abuse, abuse of authority and non-intervention against adoptees and middlemen's miserable dealings with other people. life. The import of children contributes important pieces to the understanding of the questionable life and life of Danish adoption history.

Danish:

Ny bog fortæller historien om 1950’erne og 1960’ernes illegale adoptioner fra udlandet og ikke mindst enmandshærenTytte Botfeldt, der på egen hånd skaffede afrotyske børn til danske par og var med til at etablere de adoptionsorganisationer, vi kender i dag

Potentielle adoptanter skal have »et godt psykisk helbred, en sund harmonisk personlighed, et godt ægteskab, et nuanceret miljø«, skrev amtssocialdirektør og senere formand for ungdomskommissionen Lars Lundgaard i 1982 om adoption af udenlandske børn og fortsatte:

»Det er ikke kun supermennesker, der opfylder disse betingelser. Men der skal være overskud og harmoni. Det er der også i den almindelige danske familie.«

Omtrent 15 år forinden var markedet for illegale adoptioner forsøgt bragt under kontrol, ved at man udstedte tilladelser til de personer og organisationer, som i årevis havde skaffet afrotyske børn til danske par i direkte strid med lovgivningen.

Hvad der imidlertid ikke havde ændret sig fra 1950’ernes illegale ’børneimport’ til 1980’ernes regulerede adoptionsindustri, var troen på »overskud og harmoni« i den »almindelige danske familie«. En opfattelse, der nu i 60 år har legitimeret adoptioner fra udlandet til Danmark. Hvad enten det har drejet sig om ’uægte’ børn af hvide tyske kvinder og afroamerikanske soldater, børn af enlige mødre i Korea eller af aidsramte etiopiske forældre, har argumentet for at hente disse børn, fragte dem over landegrænser og installere dem i nye hjem i Danmark været, at de ville få det bedre her. For der er overskud og harmoni i den almindelige danske familie.

Børneimporten

I en ny bog fortæller de tre journalister Amalie Linde, Amalie Kønigsfeldt og Matilde Hørmand-Pallesen historien om, hvordan de organiserede adoptioner fra udlandet til Danmark begyndte. Om enmandshæren Tytte Botfeldt, der fuldt og fast troede på, at en hvilken som helst familie i Danmark ville være at foretrække for de tyskfødte »mulatbørn« (et ord, forfatterne selv vælger at bruge). Om de danske par, der gerne ville undgå ventelister og kontrol. Om de »idealister«, der ville vise skabsnazierne syd for grænsen, at her i Danmark kunne vi godt tåle lidt raceblanding. Om de danske politikere, der i et årti valgte at se gennem fingre med Tytte Botfeldts formidlingscentral. Og ikke mindst om de adopterede, som uden at være blevet spurgt eller informeret pludselig befandt sig hos fremmede mennesker, der som adoptivforældre befandt sig et sted i spektret mellem jævnt uharmoniske individer, som folk er flest, til decideret uligevægtige og livsfarlige voldspersoner.

De døde adoptivbørn

Børneimporten – Et mørkt kapitel i fortællingen om udenlandsk adoption er baseret på interviews med 35 af de adopterede, der kom til Danmark fra Vesttyskland i 1950’erne og 1960’erne. Forfatterne har desuden interviewet en række af de aktører, som var involveret i Glemte Børn – nu DanAdopt og AC Børnehjælp – og i Terre Des Hommes, der fik frataget sin autorisation til at formidle adoption i 1999 efter en sag om rumænske børn med falske lægeattester.

Allerede 30 år forinden havde både Glemte Børn og Terre Des Hommes været sat i forbindelse med en langt større skandale, som de fleste over 50 år vil huske fra medierne: Børnepsykiateren Ole Brems sad i bestyrelsen i både de private adoptionsforeninger og den amtslige Plejehjemsforening, der stod for godkendelsen af adoptanter. Sammen med sin kone Lise adopterede han ni børn fra bl.a. Tyskland. Tre af dem døde, og i bogen fortæller det overlevende adoptivbarn Iben om en ubegribelig ondskabsfuld mishandling. Ole Brems, der forsynede sin psykisk syge kone med store mængder af bl.a. morfin, udfærdigede selv dødsattesterne og brændte ligene. På grund af manglende beviser blev Ole Brems kun idømt to års fængsel og frataget sin lægeautorisation i to år – og kunne altså siden genoptage sin praksis. Lise Brems blev idømt fire års fængsel og permanent frataget retten til at virke som sygeplejerske. Frem til Lise Brems’ død i fængslet havde Tytte Botfeldt, der fortsat formidlede adoptioner, hyppig brevkontakt med hende.

Lovbrud – uden referencer

Forfatterne har også været i arkiverne og fundet mødereferater, betænkninger fra folketingsniveau, avisartikler og private brevsamlinger m.m. fra samtiden. Alt dette tjener som dokumentation for, at både mellemmænd, ministre og offentlighed kendte til den omfattende illegale adoptionstrafik fra udlandet. Også efter uddelingen af autorisationer brød organisationerne gang på gang loven uden større konsekvenser.

Desværre er der ingen kildehenvisninger gennem bogen, men blot en samlet liste over kilder for hvert kapitel. Det valg er velsagtens truffet ud fra hensynet til læsevenlighed. Men hvis noget sætter en stopper for læseflowet, er det, hvis man hele tiden spekulerer på, hvor en konkret oplysning stammer fra. Det stiller også bogen svagere både som anklageskrift mod tidens aktører og som afsæt for yderligere undersøgelser.

Psykosocialt fokus

De adopteredes livshistorier og fortolkninger af samme står centralt i bogen og udfoldes sideløbende med beskrivelsen af Tytte Botfeldts virke og dannelsen af de adoptionsorganisationer, vi kender i dag. Portrætdelen lader noget tilbage at ønske; man får fornemmelsen af livsforløb, men ikke rigtig af menneskerne bag. På samme måde står det lidt hen i det uvisse, hvad det konkret var for en samfundsmæssig kontekst, de afrotyske børn kom fra og til i 1950’erne og 1960’erne.

Der vies til gengæld stor opmærksomhed til psykosociale konsekvenser af og forklaringsmodeller for adoptionernes forløb, og bogen skriver sig dermed ind i en tradition i adoptionsforskningen, der nedtoner fokus på systemiske sammenhænge til fordel for et nyfigent blik på individet.

Vigtige brikker til historien

I de sidste kapitler sampler forfatterne egne spørgeskemaundersøgelser med alskens nyere og ældre forskning uden skelnen til, at dele af denne forskning positionerer sig i direkte indbyrdes konflikt. Det er også her, forfatterne samler op på historiens relevans for nutidens adoptionsdebat – bl.a. gennem kontrafaktiske spørgsmål såsom, hvorvidt det trods alt ikke var bedre for de adopterede at komme til Danmark, end hvis de var blevet i Tyskland. Et spørgsmål, forfatterne selv erkender, aldrig kan besvares. Netop derfor burde man måske undre sig over, at det altid bliver stillet.

Når det er sagt, er det prisværdigt, at forfatterne har fundet frem til de første generationer af adopterede fra udlandet adopterede for at give dem ordet og har forsøgt at dokumentere årtiers overgreb, embedsmisbrug og manglende indgriben over for adoptanter og mellemmænds lemfældige omgang med andre menneskers liv. Børneimporten bidrager med vigtige brikker til forståelsen af dansk adoptionshistories tvivlsomme liv og levned.

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