Field Note: Moritz Moses Rabinowitz
- mpeterson2970
- 7 days ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
I’d been thinking about how to begin these “field notes”—snapshots of people, places, and stories I encounter across Norway. On a visit to Haugesund in April, a friend told me about Moritz Rabinowitz and it became clear that my first field note would be dedicated to him.

Moritz Rabinowitz emigrated to Norway in 1909 as a young Jewish man from Poland. He first found work as a retail clerk in Bergen, then as a peddler. In 1911, he took over the lease of a small café in Haugesund and opened an apparel store with only two items in his inventory: one suit and one overcoat.
By the 1930s, he had built a business empire, with stores stretching from Stavanger to Kristiansand. He reinvested his profits and soon became a mainstay in the apparel retail business in southwestern Norway under the company name M. Rabinowitz. He also started an apparel manufacturing company called Condor.

By 1940, Rabinowitz employed around 250 people and gave back to his community in ways both big and small, while continuing to send money to his parents in Poland. He donated land for public use, supported causes locally and abroad, and wrote regularly in the local paper about the growing threat of fascism and Nazism across Europe. The widowed Moritz was surrounded by close family: his only child, a daughter named Edith; her husband Hans; their young son Harry; and his sister-in-law Rosa, who was married to his brother Hermann.
"There may be no other Norwegian who has traveled more extensively in Europe than as Rabinowitz, and he knows the flashpoint Poland inside and out... Rabinowitz is the kind of Jew who shouts from the rooftops that he is a Jew... some may find this irritating... but in truth Rabinowitz is more Norwegian than most of us." - Egersundsposten, January 30, 1940
Though he belonged to a small minority in an otherwise homogeneous society, Rabinowitz became a public figure in Haugesund and the surrounding region. He sent telegrams to world leaders, including Roosevelt, Hindenburg, and Chamberlain, imploring them to intervene on behalf of German Jews. His outspoken stance against fascism made him a prominent and sometimes controversial figure, with German Nazi newspapers naming him as the Jewish community's secular leader in Norway.
He wasn’t just a businessman—he was a voice for justice and resistance. And, in a country on the brink of invasion, that made him a target.
And Rabinowitz had long expected that the war would come to Norway.

On April 8, just one day before the German invasion, he submitted his last op-ed article to Haugesunds Avis, the city's daily newspaper. In it, he called on readers to support and respect the Norwegian soldiers who were now facing the threat of a German occupation. That support would soon be needed more than ever.
The morning of April 9, 1940, marked the beginning of Operation Weserübung, the German invasion of Denmark and Norway. The Germans had claimed to be protecting Norway from an Anglo-French occupation, but in reality, it was a calculated move to solidify their control over Scandinavia.
By the following day, April 10, the German army had landed in Haugesund.
Rabinowitz was a prime target and the Gestapo made it clear that capturing him was a top priority. He was immediately hunted in Haugesund, and went into hiding. He had prepared several hiding places along the coast, moving from one to the next, at first remaining a step ahead of the Gestapo.
But eventually, the Gestapo caught up with him.
Moritz was eventually captured on an island just outside Skånevik—not far from where I now live—likely by shadowing employees who were conveying business decisions between Rabinowitz and his businesses. He was arrested and held in jails in Stavanger and Oslo, before eventually being deported and sent to Sachsenhausen concentration camp, where he was placed in the barracks for Jews, though officially categorized as a political prisoner.
Even in captivity, Rabinowitz continued to care for the community he loved.
He conveyed what would be his final greetings to the people of Haugesund through two fellow prisoners, and dictated his last will and testament. In it, he left all he had to his daughter Edith and expressed his hope that his businesses would carry on.
His death certificate lists pneumonia as the cause of death, but according to a fellow prisoner, Rabinowitz was kicked and stomped to death outside Barrack 38 in Sachsenhausen.
His brother, daughter Edith, grandson Harry, and son-in-law Hans were all later deported and murdered at Auschwitz.
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Moritz’s legacy endures in the memorials, stories, and quiet lessons passed down through generations in this region—lessons about courage, community, and the cost of standing up to tyranny. His life stands as a powerful reminder of the unwavering courage and conviction that defined him, no matter the cost.



There's more to discover. See you in the next note.
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