But Solzhenitsyn does not give in and for several years fights for his right to publish his texts in both magazines and book form. But it is a domestic battle that he loses and more and more fellow writers organized in the powerful Writers' Union turn opportunistically against him. Hans Björkegren, Moscow correspondent and translator of Solzhenitsyn, says in the book "Alexander Solzhenitsyn" that the Soviet Writers' Union, which was aware that he had been nominated for the 1969 Nobel Prize, awaited the Academy's decision before the Writers' Organization in Ryazan (Solzhenitsyn's hometown) can hold its own "inquisition meeting, at which Solzhenitsyn was expelled from the Writers' Union”. A decision that was similar to a regular professional ban.
The Nobel Committee probably found out about this and before the decision in 1970, permanent secretary Karl Ragnar Gierow asks Sweden's Ambassador to Moscow, Gunnar Jarring, to probe how a Nobel Prize affects Solzhenitsyn's position. Jarring's memoirs show that Liselotte Mehr, wife of Stockholm's finance councilor Hjalmar Mehr, meets Solzhenitsyn and tells the author that his name is being discussed in Stockholm, “but that there was concern that it should not be allowed to be a new Pasternak story. He had replied that he was not only interested but eager to obtain it before 1971... He believed that the Nobel Prize could save him from being liquidated by the KGB."
Gunnar Jarring never submits a written comment to the Academy, but Karl Ragnar Gierow writes that on one occasion they meet in Stockholm. Ambassador Jarring then declares that "a Nobel Prize for Solzhenitsyn probably would not lead to a new intervention against him". But if he is awarded the Nobel Prize, it will not be seen with "gentle eyes". Possibly, Jarring adds, not with as "unfavourable eyes as would have been the case before Sholokhov received the award." Jarring, on the other hand, speculates that Solzhenitsyn could renounce the prize "for maintaining his position as a loyal Soviet writer but one of a different opinion than the current ruling one."
For the majority of the Nobel Committee, this means a green light. When the committee has its final meeting in early September 1970, they still take the safe before the uncertain and make two alternative proposals. Because should it emerge before the decision is made that, for example, a prize to Solzhenitsyn would pose a danger to his life, they can go for the other alternatives that have Patrick White as their main candidate.
So is this a political prize? It depends, of course, on what is meant by political, but as defense of freedom of expression, freedom from oppression and human rights, it is undeniably political. As a prize aimed at the communist dictatorship it is, as Artur Lundkvist later says in an Aftonbladet interview, never so in its intention, but perhaps it will be in its effect.
From the documents - and Lars Gyllensten's expert statement from 1969 - it is clear that the Academy has done its literary homework. Despite a rather small body of work at that point, the author, as Gyllensten writes, "appears as an impressively richly equipped, complicated and independently conscious author with a rarely versatile substance and unusual psychological power to portray characters". A prize should also "be able to meet the wishes that Alfred Nobel repeatedly expressed, namely that the award should primarily support still actively creative people and enable them to pursue their activities better and more efficiently".
The Swedish Academy meets and votes on October 8, 1970. It is likely that a large majority will agree with the Nobel Committee's proposal. Hans Björkegren claims in his book that among 17 members there is no doubt at all that Solzhenitsyn is the worthy laureate. The Academy, on the other hand, keeps these figures secret.
The aftermath becomes complicated. First, the permanent secretary never gets hold of the laureate and can therefore not announce the decision and read his reactions. Solzhenitsyn is not in his home but has been living on cellist Mstislav Rostropovich's dacha outside Moscow for some time. When rumors start circulating, the laureate does not want to believe that it is true. By detours, the Norwegian correspondent Per Egil Hegge (among others for Svenska Dagbladet) is then commissioned by a friend of the author to confirm the election to Solzhenitsyn. When he calls, the author answers almost annoyed and at first he does not want to comment, but after persuasion he dictates:
"I am grateful for being designated. I accept the prize. I intend to travel to receive it in person on the traditional day, if I get to decide for myself. I am healthy. My state of health does not hinder my journey.”
However, that will not be the case. Due to the threat of not being allowed to travel back to the Soviet Union, he cancels the trip to Stockholm at the last minute. The rounds after that become many and difficult. Criticism is directed, among other things, from abroad, at Jarring, Palme (Swedish Prime Minister at the time) and the Swedish Foreign Ministry for not wanting to lease the embassy for the award ceremony. But the Swedish Foreign Service, on the other hand, claims that it never awards the prize at the embassy.
As this opportunity is not offered, the Swedish Academy, in collaboration with Solzhenitsyn, organizes that the prize will be presented at a private event in an apartment in Moscow with specially invited guests. It fails, as permanent secretary Karl Ragnar Gierow is denied an entry visa. The Soviet state, which has hardly commented on the price, continues to oppose Solzhenitsyn, and on February 13, 1974, among other things after the first part of "The Gulag Archipelago" was published, Alexander Solzhenitsyn was expelled from the Soviet Union. He is accused of to have in recurring acts harmed the motherland. On December 10 of the same year - together with Eyvind Johnson and Harry Martinson - he can receive his prize. Karl Ragnar Gierow gives the speech to the laureate and says:
"I have already made two speeches to you. The first one you could not listen to, because there was a frontier to cross. The second one I could not deliver, because there was a frontier to cross. Your presence here today does not mean that the frontiers have at last been abolished. On the contrary, it means that you are now on this side of a border that still exists. But the spirit of your writings, as I understand it, the driving force of your work, like the spirit and force of Alfred Nobel's last wish and testament, is to open all frontiers, to enable man to meet man, freely and confidently.”
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