On a sunny Norwegian afternoon in late September, between a political strategy session and one of his four afternoon receptions, the mayor of Oslo is taking his first and only break of the day. Per Ditlev-Simonsen has five minutes, just enough time to sit at his heavy, wooden desk and phone his 92-year-old father.
On a day like this, after the morning fog lifts from the harbor, Ditlev-Simonsen could look out his office window and take in a thousand years of history in one panoramic glance. To his left, the remnants of a 700-year-old fortress still patrolled by royal guards; to his right, a shopping center, all neon and smoky glass, built on the ruins of an old shipyard; in between, a large square where teenagers skateboard around the fountains and flowerbeds. Out on the deep, narrow harbor, boats with wooden masts rest tethered to long docks where young lovers hold hands and share Pepsis.
But Ditlev-Simonsen, '55, rarely has time to enjoy this idyllic view of Norway's capital city. He's too busy selling it.
A native of Oslo who came to Stanford to study history and economics in 1953, Ditlev-Simonsen is now the chief of a city that few of his classmates have ever visited. At 66, his weathered features capped with sandy-gray hair, he conveys a paternal image that seems to perfectly suit the job. Ditlev-Simonsen is more ambassador than politician, a municipal counterpart to his good friend Harald V, the King of Norway. The head of the city council, Fritz Huitfeldt, runs Oslo's right-wing coalition government made up of the Conservative and Progress parties; the mayor, though also a council member with full voting privileges, works mainly to promote the city.
In the course of a typical 12-hour workday, he welcomes the Slovenian ambassador to his office for morning coffee and chocolate chip cookies, plans strategy with fellow Conservative Party leaders, speaks at the opening of an industrial expo and chats with groups of Australian professors and retired Norwegian journalists. He is offered champagne on eight separate occasions -- "If I accepted every time, I'd never get anything done," he says -- and breaks up long meetings by cracking dry jokes and shooting winks around the table. "He is very much a gentleman, conservative and properly dressed," says Hilde Lungaard, a political reporter for the Oslo daily newspaper Astenposten. "But he's got some sense of humor. He's got his own style. He's respected by people of all parties."
That's high praise for a man whose wealth sets him apart from much of the Oslo electorate. Ditlev-Simonsen made a small fortune running the shipping and oil drilling arms of Sverre Ditlev-Simonsen & Co. The discovery of oil in the North Sea in the early 1970s made Norway the world's second largest petroleum exporter and meant big business for the company started by Ditlev-Simonsen's grandfather.
A national politician as well as a businessman, Ditlev-Simonsen served in the Norwegian Parliament from 1980 to 1985 and was minister of defense during 1989 and 1990. He was elected to a four-year term as Oslo's mayor in 1995. "It's much more interesting to be in city government than the national government, because you're closer to reality," he says. "I enjoy representing the city because I am fond of it."
In Oslo, there is much to be fond of. The city's 480,000 residents are less than an hour away from an immense natural recreation area of forests and streams. On a snowy winter weekend, as many as 200,000 people flock to the woods to cross-country ski. Staying home isn't bad, either: Oslo boasts a clean, lively downtown; Scandinavian cultural centers like the Vigeland sculpture park and the Viking Ship Museum; and some of the friendliest people in Europe.
But there is another side to Oslo. In recent years, the city has been forced to deal with increasing pollution, traffic and crime. Civic leaders have already taken some steps: after a 10-year effort the Oslo fjord is finally clean, and traffic through the square behind City Hall, once the most congested intersection in the city, has been successfully rerouted. Crime, though, persists. "We have drug problems," Ditlev-Simonsen admits wearily, "a tendency for gangs and violence in the streets."
To win a second term in November, Ditlev-Simonsen will have to address these issues. Socialist parties are on the upswing in Europe -- in 1979, 43.3 percent of voters chose the Oslo Conservative Party in municipal elections; 20 years later, polls show that support has dwindled to 16 percent -- and the probable Labor Party candidate for mayor is a former Norwegian actress with cabinet experience. Political reporter Lundgaard thinks the mayor is too old to win. His politi- cal secretary, Elizabeth Lie, believes that his best chance is to shed his figurehead image and articulate a stronger policy vision.
Ditlev-Simonsen believes that he can win another four years in office, if he can unite the Liberal and Christian Democratic parties in a coalition behind him. He's already begun to sharpen his political image, using ceremonial appearances like the Industrial Expo to call for a greater commitment on the part of both the city government and private industry to economic growth in Oslo. He's hoping to win re-election because, he says, he loves the job. "I enjoy my work," he says, pausing in the doorway as he heads to another late-afternoon reception. "I have fun." Imagine if he could accept the champagne.
Jim Tankersley, a junior majoring in political science, spent the fall studying in Paris. He is from McMinnville, Ore.
