Introduction: Jews, Europe, and the business of culture

Abstract

When entering the Jewish Museum in Stockholm, a large glass case at the end of the hallway will likely draw any visitor’s attention. In it, two colourful and extravagantly patterned shirts are positioned one above the other (figure 1). Their simple wraparound design appears in striking contrast to the exclusive fabric. The explanation to this contrast lies in the history and origin of the shirts; they were quickly sewn together to be used as hospital shirts during the 1808–1809 war between Sweden and Russia. Due to a lack of the simple, blue and white striped fabric normally used for military hospital garments, fashionable calico fabric had to be used instead, resulting in these blue and red shirts, lined with exquisite, printed patterns (Swedish: kattuntryck). The fabric came from the textile print factory Blecktornet in Stockholm, owned by the Jewish businessman Aron Moses Lamm (1756–1824). Although considered a member of the ‘Jewish nation’ in Sweden, and thus spatially, economically and socially regulated by the 1782 statute Judereglementet, which both manifested and limited the rights for Jews to make a living in Sweden, Lamm aided the Swedish cause by providing the fabric and thus contributed to the foreign affairs of the Swedish nation. The unique shirts displayed at the museum show the intrinsic relationship between Jewish businesses and cultural endeavours. Lamm and other Jewish producers were instrumental in the reintroduction of printed calico textiles to Sweden in the early decades of the nineteenth century, and their goods, characterized by new techniques and international patterns, soon made way into both fashion and regional vernacular costumes. Because of the Swedish–Russian war, Lamm’s calico fabric unexpectedly provided him with the opportunity to express his belonging to Sweden. The factory Blecktornet, set up to provide him and his family with financial means to live and thrive in a new country, entered the realm of cultural negotiations over Jewish existence and role in Sweden. Its textile products entered non-Jewish spaces of war and dressed nonJewish bodies fighting for the Swedish nation. On a larger temporal scale, Jewish businesses in the centuries to come were incorporated into the national market, thus serving both Swedish economy and national identity. At the same time, occupying positions from peddling to banking, Jews were constantly subjected to, and othered by, antisemitic tropes and discourses related to money. To make money and become successful was thus associated with cultural negotiations on national belonging. In other words, to own and run a business as a Jew in modern Sweden – and indeed Europe – was to enter the business of culture.