A “Significant Swedish Outpost”: The Swedish School and Arab Christians in Jerusalem, 1920–1930

Abstract

This chapter focuses on the Swedish School in Jerusalem during the British Mandate period. I argue that while modelled on Swedish educational culture and largely financed from Sweden, the school had a profound local connection to the Arab community. This chapter demonstrates that the educational culture of the school was more important to Arab parents than its religious profile. Arabic was the language of instruction and the children were taught by well-educated Arab female teachers. Parents and pupils influenced the Swedish School’s profile with demands that were created by a new reality under British Mandatory rule. These parents and pupils were also challenged by the fact that pupils from the middle class and the urban poor attended the same lessons and were—in theory at least—treated equally despite social or religious backgrounds.

I would like to thank Karène Sanchez Summerer, Sary Zananiri, Heather Sharkey, Atle Døssland. Therese Sjovoll  and the anonymous reviewers who read and commented different stages of this article.

In the fall of 1925, the Director of Education in Palestine, Humphrey Bowman (1879–1965), was invited to the Swedish School in Jerusalem.¹ Also present were the school’s teachers—five Arab women: Warde Abudije, N. Halany, Hanna Abla, Bedea Haramy and Helena Kassisijeh—while Hol Lars (Lewis) Larsson (1881–1958), renowned photographer of the American Colony and Swedish Consul General to Jerusalem and Signe Ekblad (1894–1952), the school’s headmistress represented Sweden in this transnational meeting. Having tea in the Scandinavian inspired, hyggelige [cosy] office, the party discussed the school. The Director of Education pointed to two things that had caught his attention during his tour: The children were clean and well-disciplined while at the same time they seemed happy and content. Bowman, who was known to be outspoken and not one to flatter, generously concluded that the school seemed to be characterised by an equal amount of love and severity.² During his years as head of education in Palestine from 1920 till 1936, Bowman would continue to keep the Swedish School in high regard.³ This is not surprising, as the Swedish School developed into a well respected and sought-after Arab primary school during the Mandate.

British forces occupied Jerusalem in December 1917, and a few years later Great Britain received an international mandate from the League of Nations to rule Palestine. The Mandate included the responsibility of securing the welfare of Palestine’s inhabitants; both the Arab majority and Jewish minority.⁴ From the outset of the Mandate the development of education was characterised by a duality: there was a virtually independent Jewish system that included most Jewish children,⁵ and an Arab school system that was far from universal and consisted of government-controlled schools; the large majority being rural schools for boys.⁶ The Mandate authorities did not prioritise education for girls, and in urban areas especially girls’ education largely became an arena for private schools (both Christian and Muslim).⁷

Due to the lack of public schools, mission-run educational institutions flourished and, unlike in Ottoman times, the mission schools during the Mandate period were independent from any government supervision. In the words of Enaya Hammad Othman: “It was in this disposition that the missionary schools resumed under the Mandate with great power …”.⁸

The focus of this article is the Swedish School in Jerusalem, which was a Christian institution and one of the mission schools that made a significant contribution to Arab education.⁹ Based on published and unpublished sources from the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society’s (SJS) archives, private archives, Mandate government reports, biographies and travel literature, this article argues that while modelled on Swedish educational culture and to a large extent financed from Sweden, the school had a profound local connection to the Christian Arab community. The headmistress was Swedish, but the teachers were Christian Arabs. The pupils came from Arab families; the majority were from Christian families and Muslim pupils constituted a minority. Unlike most other mission schools, Arabic was the language of instruction. For the Christian Arabs, but also to some extent the Muslim population, the Swedish school represented a high-quality primary education and an alternative to British mission schools and Arab government schools. For the Swedish actors in Palestine and supporters at home, the Swedish school became an example of Swedish modernity exported to a less developed area of the world. Thus, while Sweden long had ceased to be an expansionist colonial power, during the 1920s and 1930s, its colonial ambitions—in the same manner as Danish and Norwegian colonialism—was to a large extent seen in mission-based welfare projects in colonial (and Mandate) settings.¹⁰ According to what Peter Forsgren and others have called “Nordic colonial thinking”,¹¹ Sweden as a developed European nation had a mission to develop Palestine. Even so, because of religious and ethnic divisions within Mandate Palestine’s population, the Swedes had competing ideas as to which population to target.

This article starts with a discussion of the SJS’ motivation for transforming a small kindergarten into a large school for Arab children in the early 1920s. In many ways, the “real history” of the Swedish School begins with the new headmistress Signe Ekblad arriving in Jerusalem in 1922.¹² It is thus necessary to look at Ekblad as the prime mover in the development of the school, both with regard to the board and the funders in Sweden, and to connections in Palestine. This article argues that the Mandate authorities’ neglect of Arab welfare and education spurred Ekblad’s focus on Arab education, despite opposition from the board and the funders in Sweden.

The second part of this article focuses on the female Christian Arab staff, their backgrounds and their interactions with the Swedish headmistress. I argue that Palestinian middle-class culture shared basic ideals with the values promoted by the Swedish Protestant headmistress, and claim that the educational culture of the school was more important to parents than its religious profile. This second part of the article also explores in what ways Arab society, including the Arab teachers, parents, and children, influenced the educational profile.

The school, however, did not only include Muslim and Christian upper- and middle-class pupils, but also took in children from poor Arab families. Despite improved living conditions among the urban lower and middle classes, many Palestinians lived in meagre material conditions. The school’s policy was inspired by the idea of a “people’s school”, a folkskole, a free public school for all, prevalent in the Scandinavian countries at the time. Thus, finally I argue that the Swedish institution not only had bearings on relations between Christian Arabs and Muslims, but also on relations between children and parents from different social strata in ways that were unique among educational institutions in Palestine (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1

Signe Ekblad at her desk in Jerusalem where she would write her reports and letters to the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society board in Sweden, ca. 1926. Image courtesy of the Swedish Jerusalem Society. http://www.alvin-portal.org/alvin/imageViewer.jsf?dsId=ATTACHMENT-0001&pid=alvin-record%3A270063&dswid=-6953

Background

With the establishment of the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society (Svenska Jerusalemsföreningen, SJS)—an organisation with strong connections to the Swedish state church and king—Sweden became the only Scandinavian country with a national presence in Palestine in the period from 1900 to 1948.¹³ The organisation was modelled upon the German Jerusalemsverein [Jerusalem Association]. Even so, King Oscar II (1829–1907), who became the SJS’ “high protector”, insisted on the independence of the organisation. The SJS must not be part of the German organisation, but should represent the Swedish nation. As I have argued elsewhere, one reason might have been Sweden-Norway’s position as a small state independent of international alliances. Being part of a German organisation might harm relations with other great powers.¹⁴ In addition, in Sweden and the other Nordic countries with a Protestant Lutheran state religion, Christian missions with their visual and written narratives of “the other in need” helped define Swedish (or Norwegian or Danish) identity during a time of competing national building projects in the Nordic countries. In their day-to-day management, the SJS was to have close connections with the German Kaiserswerth Deaconesses Institution and the Syrian Orphanage in the years before 1918.¹⁵ These German Protestants were the forerunners of today’s independent Palestinian Lutheran Church (in Israel/Palestine and Jordan), but the Swedes played a very subordinate role. They never had their own church in Palestine. This can partly be explained by the fact that throughout its history the Swedish organisation has to a large degree been ecumenical in character.¹⁶ The SJS started out as a mission to the Jews, but even so, their missionary agenda was very soon transformed into a cultural mission which in practice meant education, health and relief work among the Arab population. Its original and continuous aim until war¹⁷ forced the school to close down in 1948, was to provide welfare to the people “in Jesus’ own country”.¹⁸

The Swedish school opened in October 1902, providing a kindergarten for boys and girls and the first two years of primary school for girls. It served as a pre-school for children who would later attend other mission schools. The majority of the 70–80 children attending the school were Christian Arabs and in addition there were a few Muslim girls. A German deaconess, Martha Klaer from the Protestant German mission school Talitha Kumi, supervised the local Christian teacher Afifa Sliman in running the school.¹⁹ “Since 1851, the German Protestant deaconesses had established schools in various cities of the Ottoman Empire with the intention of ‘uplifting’ local girls, the mothers of future generations through education”.²⁰ This meant that the Swedes’ educational partners were not only fellow Lutherans, but also well-educated with extensive and lengthy experience from welfare work in the Levant.

The board and supporters at home were not happy with this strong German connection and requested a more direct Swedish involvement in the school. This was achieved in 1909, when the school obtained its first Swedish headmistress, Helfrid Willén. This same year the Ottoman authorities officially recognised the school as the École de la Société de Jérusalem.²¹ The Swedish institution was part of the large body of foreign mission schools that dominated education in Jerusalem. In 1910 there were seventeen mission schools, while there were ten Islamic and Ottoman schools, and one Palestinian national school in the city.²²

With the outbreak of World War I, the Swedes became even more dependent on German colleagues in running the school. The Germans, as the Ottoman state’s central ally in the war, were allowed to stay in Palestine, while the Swedish staff left. The Christian Arab teacher Maria Harb took charge of the daily running of the institution, while formal supervision was given to a German woman, Gertrude Einszler, who had grown up in Jerusalem.²³ The Swedes’ strong ties to the German Protestant establishments and people in Jerusalem were also demonstrated by the SJS’ explicit sympathy with the German and Turkish sides in the war. In the SJS journal (in reports written by Gertrude Einszler) the British were portrayed as one of many conquerors.²⁴ Even so, with the British occupation giving way to civilian rule, the Germans had to leave Palestine. With the fellow Lutherans and close allies forced out (they were allowed back later) by the new rulers, the Swedes had to make their own way in Palestine.²⁵ What roles could they play? How did the school position itself in a British-ruled Palestine?

Early Mandate Years

The end of both Ottoman rule and German political influence in 1918 forced the SJS to orient itself towards the new rulers of Palestine. The ecumenical orientation of the Swedish organisation meant that without major difficulties they could replace their close German cooperation with British Protestants. Thus, in order to prepare Signe Ekblad—a primary teacher with experience from social work in Sweden—for work in a Middle Eastern country under British rule, the SJS paid for a three month course of mission training at Kingsmead, the Protestant Mission home close to Birmingham.²⁶ She then spent one semester at the School of Oriental and Asian Studies (SOAS) in London, where she studied English, Arabic and Oriental religion and culture. After arriving in Jerusalem, she continued her Arabic studies at the British Anglican High School.²⁷

Foreign mission schools were usually housed in impressive buildings placed in prime locations in Beirut and other cities of Anatolia and the Levant, and were “intended to project the image of a clearly superior European or Western culture”.²⁸ This was not the case with the Swedish institution. Visiting the Swedish School for the first time in the spring of 1922, Ekblad was shocked by the small and run-down building. The teachers and children, however, had spent much time decorating the classrooms and the youngest children greeted the Swedish headmistress by singing a song written by the Arab teachers:

Verse

Verse It is so very kind of you To leave your happy home, And come out to us little wee’s For we’re not only two or three’s. Fifty-eight we are in number …

Verse

Verse It is so good you left your home And come to us out here To teach us how to love God Be diligent and clean.

Verse

Verse God bless the work, which you will do, Here in Jerusalem For little Arab girls and boys To teach us sing and play.Footnote

Svenska Jerusalemsföreningens Tidsskrift no. 2 (1922): 35. My translation from Swedish.

To the pupils and teachers at the Swedish School it was clear that Ekblad had come to work among Arab children. This was not, however, such a clear-cut matter for the Swedes—to Ekblad herself, or to the SJS board or supporters in Sweden. Some among the latter, including Sweden’s prominent representative in the Middle East, Harald Bildt, ambassador to Egypt from 1922 to 1935, argued that the school should proselytise with the aim of converting Palestinians to Protestantism. Bildt wrote “an official letter criticizing the Jerusalem’s Society in strong terms”,³⁰ and he claimed that the organisation damaged the name of Sweden. According to Bildt, both the school and the hospital were neglecting their primary duty of evangelisation.³¹

Ekblad was extremely upset with Bildt’s condemnation and, in a letter to the board of the SJS, she made it clear that she had “thought a lot about the complaints in the official letter from Bildt concerning our lack of evangelisation. But the question of whether we are evangelising here or not had tormented me already before his letter”.³² The young headmistress told the board in no uncertain terms what Swedish policy should be:

• 1. That one cannot and should not engage in missionary work in Palestine as one does in other parts of the world, since a large part of the population already belongs to Christian Churches;

• 2. That we as Lutherans should not try to win new members from any of these other Churches, but rather point to the treasures these Churches have without realising it;

• 3. That the task of the school in relation to Mohammedanism is to show the children, through Christian education but even more through the spirit and fosterage of the school, that Christianity is not words but LIFE and STRENGTH.³³

Ekblad concluded with a clear warning to the board: “But if the school, following Bildt’s prescriptions, should be judged according to the number of conversions from Mohammedanism and ‘conquests’ from the Greek Catholic Church, it seems to me that we will find it very difficult to reach a high standard”.³⁴ It was excellence in education that Ekblad understood to be Sweden’s mission in Palestine. But education for whom? That was the question the new headmistress took to the responsible body; the British Director of Education (Fig. 2).

Fig. 2

Signe Ekblad, teacher and pupils at the Swedish School, Jerusalem, ca. 1925. Held in Uppsala University Library at the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society’s Collection. Image courtesy of the Swedish Jerusalem Society. https://www.alvin-portal.org/alvin/attachment/download/alvin-record:294000/ATTACHMENT-0001.tiff

“Needed Among the Arabs” in Mandatory Palestine

Even if the British authorities did not interfere in the way foreign (mission) schools were run, it was important to be on good terms with the Department of Education, which issued a yearly grant to private schools.³⁵ For the newcomer Ekblad, it was vital to meet the Director of Education and get his response to the question of the future of the school. The official visit to Bowman reflects Ekblad’s professional ambitions and marks a change in direction for the Swedish institution, from an evangelical kindergarten/school to a professional education that aimed to find a place within the Mandatory system.

When Ekblad called on Bowman in the fall of 1922, he greeted the young Swedish headmistress warmly, even though he had never heard of her school. Based on what she explained, though, he could immediately assure Ekblad that the Swedish school really did have a role to play in Jerusalem. The city was in need of more schools; especially ones providing kindergarten for Muslim children. His support and interest were also expressed by his wish to visit the school.³⁶ Using her momentum, Ekblad made her case to the funders in Sweden:

I do not believe our work is as needed among the Jews. Most Jewish children in Palestine have regular schooling. That is not the case for Arab children. The large majority of the Arab population is illiterate. In the small villages it is still the belief that girls do not need any schooling. That is why it seems to me that the SJS best fulfils its mission in the Holy Land by continuing to — as we have done — cater for the Arabs’ education.³⁷

Ekblad included both Muslim and Christian Arab children in the Swedish educational scheme, emphasising that they were “needed” both among the Muslim population and the Orthodox Christians. Her decision to focus on the Arab population, and invest in the development of Palestinian Arab society, had deep political as well as social implications. Even so, her rhetoric when communicating with Sweden was, during these early years, in keeping with traditional evangelical discourse. Here Ekblad was merging the Apostle Paul’s vision on one of his mission journeys, of a Macedonia pleading with him and crying “Come over to Macedonia and help us” and Nordic colonial thinking, when she wrote: “We Swedes need to believe that our people have a special gift to bring even to the people of the Holy Land”.³⁸ The people of Palestine here meant Muslim and Eastern Christian Arabs. According to Ekblad, and in line with traditional evangelical views of Orthodox Christians, the local Christians of Palestine were described as having “limitless ignorance about the stories of the Bible”.³⁹ Thus, a modern, Swedish school was needed among the Arabs, not only from an educational perspective, but also as a means of promoting Protestant influence in Palestine. This endeavour included a national, Swedish responsibility to prevent Arab children from being educated in Greek Orthodox or Muslim schools, as argued by Ekblad:

We Swedes have started an evangelical enterprise in the Holy Land. We want to help and serve the people of this land. Should we refuse to accept the children that are trustingly sent to us, and whom if not accepted by our school will be sent to the Greek-Orthodox propaganda-schools or Muslim government schools? No, we should accept the children who are sent to us. It is not our task to judge among which of the populations of the Holy Land we are most needed.… Should we expand our school — as there clearly is a need for — or should we continue to be forced to let the children leave and go on to the Catholic or even Muslim schools? That is a question I leave for the friends in Sweden.⁴⁰

“The friends in Sweden” did over time accept Ekblad’s views on educating Arab children. The message the headmistress in Jerusalem transmitted to supporters in Sweden was that the organisation was giving the children of Jerusalem “a good and Christian upbringing”.⁴¹ In 1930, after a longer visit to the school, Swedish journalist Märta Lindqvist assured Swedish funders who might be worried at the lack of Protestant influence that “the Swedish School is a mission school, but not in the manner of Roman Catholic or American direct propaganda and attempts of proselytising. There are … no attempts at conversion.….”.⁴² The underlying message was that the Swedish mission in Palestine was to promote Protestantism through education and Swedish culture.

There were, however, Christian Arab communities that turned down the Swedish offer of education, among them the Roman Catholics. The Catholic community had a number of schools to choose from and might not have needed to consider a Protestant school for their children. That was not the case for the Orthodox Arab community, which was by far the largest of the Christian communities in Palestine yet lacked a “good school” in Jerusalem. During Ottoman times the majority of children at the Swedish School had come from the Orthodox Christian community. This was also the case during the Mandate: Orthodox parents sent their children to the Swedes, seemingly with their religious leaders’ consent.⁴³ In 1922, when Ekblad took over the school, there were 62 children; of these 43 were Greek Catholic 4 were Roman Catholic, 7 were Muslim and 8 were Protestants.⁴⁴

So far, the school had been free of charge and it had been a school for children from poor, mainly Christian, Arab families. Now Ekblad convinced her supporters and superiors (the SJS board) in Sweden of the need to support a more professional and modern school. The shift towards professionalisation was, as previously discussed, marked by close relations with the educational authorities. It was also apparent in the new policy of school fees. Ekblad introduced fees, but kept a number of free places for children from poor homes.⁴⁵ School fees were typical of Christian schools, which mostly catered for children from wealthier families including Muslim children from the upper- and middle- classes. Under Ekblad’s regime Arab girls were educated until they had finished fourth or fifth grade at the age of thirteen or fourteen, and were then qualified for further education at a secondary school, usually a British or American mission school. The boys had to leave the school at the age of nine or ten when they would continue on to similar schools.⁴⁶

By 1930 there were 150 children in the school, and the staff had expanded to seven Arab teachers, and one Swedish volunteer in addition to Ekblad. During the early 1940s the number of children had increased from 200 to 250, with ten Arab and two Swedish teachers; all female. By 1930 Ekblad was supervising a major operation, which was held in high esteem by the local community as well as the Mandate authorities. In the words of Lindqvist—bearing in mind her Swedish predisposition and admiration for Signe Ekblad—“The Swedish school has under the leadership of Ekblad gained an exceptional reputation. It has developed into one of the foremost places among the foreign educational institutions in the city”.⁴⁷ An institution with such a solid reputation would attract highly qualified teachers, which raises the question: Who were the Arab teachers employed at the Swedish School?

The Arab Teachers

In the summer of 1921, the Swedish school arranged a farewell party for Maria Harb, mentioned above, who had been the main teacher at the school for five years. Harb’s fiancé, Elias Totah, an Arab businessman, was also present.⁴⁸ Marriage meant the end of her teaching career and Harb was to be replaced by a woman named Helena Kassisijeh. By the fall of 1923 three more local women teachers joined the staff: Hanna Able, Warde Abudije and Bedea Haramy.

Both Maria Harb and Elias Totah came from Christian families based in Ramallah. Harb came from a Greek Orthodox family, while Elias Totah had converted to Quakerism.⁴⁹ Elias Totah was a nephew of the Palestinian pioneer educator Khalil Totah (1886–1955), who received a PhD from Columbia University, returned to Palestine and served as Government Arab College Principal (1919–1925), and as teacher and director of the Friends Boys’ School in Ramallah from 1927 to 1944. Another of the teachers, Bedea Haramy, also had a link to Palestinian educators. Shukri Haramy, a member of the Haramy family of Jerusalem (from Baq’a, one of the city’s middle- to upper-class neighbourhoods), became famous as one of the few Palestinians who established a private national school during the Mandate period.⁵⁰ Thus, teachers at the Swedish school belonged to the upper- and middle-class Christian families that valued the modern education which could be obtained in foreign mission schools.⁵¹ They came from the minute group of Arab women who had received formal education before the war.⁵² The fact that the teachers at the Swedish School spoke “some English”, implies an education from an English-language mission school.⁵³ One of the most important English higher education mission schools for girls in the Levant before World War I was the British Syrian Training College in Beirut.

One of these pioneer teachers educated at the Anglican institution in Beirut was Munira Badr Musa (b. 1880). Jean Said Makdisi writes of her maternal grandmother:

It was at the British Syrian Training College that Teta (Munira Badr Musa) accomplished her metamorphosis from an ordinary young girl to that archetypical figure in modern Arab cultural history, the Syrian Christian schoolteacher. The powerful and transformative influence of these women was to be felt not only in the immediate region, in historic Syria, and the countries that are today Palestine, Israel, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon, but as far away as Iraq and Egypt. Under their tutelage … students were taught new languages and a new way of life, and were trained in an educational style more in harmony with Western ways than Ottoman….⁵⁴

Witnessing this transformation first hand was the Anglican educator and missionary Mabel Warburton (1879–1961), who had been headmistress of the British Syrian Training College in the years before the First World War. As one of the first British teachers to return to the region after the war, Warburton then became the first headmistress of the Anglican British Girl’s High School and Training College in Jerusalem. Warburton writes:

Amongst many changes which have taken and are taking place in Palestine under the British Occupation, a most remarkable one is the change in the position and work of women in the land. Before the war only a very few girls received anything in the way of a liberal education, and it is noteworthy that it was these few who almost immediately came to the fore when the work of building up Palestine began- as teachers, nurses and leaders in social work.… During the war financial straits and the conscription of young men had made it necessary for the girls of the family to work and to contribute to the family support. Girls trained in Mission Schools such as the British Syrian Training College and the American Girls’ School in Beyrout, the C. M. S. Girls’ School at Bethlehem, The American Friends’ School at Ramallah, and the Bishop’s School in Jerusalem, were able to find work as teachers and nurses, and in many cases became sole supporters of their families during those terrible years of privation. This prepared the way for girls to plan for, and parents to reconcile themselves to, the idea of a professional career, which the latter had previously opposed to for their daughters.⁵⁵

Were these educated women Protestants? According to Laura Robson, “women in the Arab Episcopalian community had an unusual degree of access to schooling and often worked as teachers in mission schools”.⁵⁶ This would also have been true for Arab women from other Protestant congregations, including the Lutheran congregations.⁵⁷ The Arab teachers at the Swedish school may have been Protestants. Certainly, they would have been educated and shaped culturally during their most formative years at a Protestant institution. Arab Roman Catholics did not send their children to the Swedish school, and it is highly unlikely that the school recruited teachers from this community. The Greek Orthodox community established their own secondary school in the 1920s, too late for the first generation of teachers at the Swedish school during the Mandate.⁵⁸ The strong link between the Swedish institution and the Arab Protestant milieu is reflected in the fact that the minister of the Anglican-Protestant congregation in Jerusalem, pastor Saleh Saba, was invited to give a sermon for the children and teachers on the formal opening day of the new school in 1926.⁵⁹

The teachers at the Swedish School and the headmistress shared a deep spiritual commitment that was nurtured during daily rituals performed by the staff. This commitment was not only related to faith but also to professional life, as observed by Lindqvist: “The local teachers are glowingly interested, eager and determined and the relationship between the teacher and their head is characterized by understanding…. Every morning before school starts, the headmistress and the teachers gather for a morning prayer in the teacher’s room. - one would not be mistaken to say that these daily meetings in silence is one of the primary forces of power in the running of the Swedish school”.⁶⁰

The sharing of prayers did not, however, necessary mean that these women shared the same version of Christianity. Ekblad was ecumenically oriented. The above-mentioned sermon before the official opening of the new school was, for example, modelled upon the Orthodox tradition of having a priest bless a new home before moving into a new building.⁶¹ Members of different Christian denominations in Jerusalem also met socially during “open house”, which were regular meetings organised by Ekblad at the school. By the 1930s these events also included Jewish guests.⁶²

Ekblad’s respect for and trust in her teachers’ Christian faith is also seen in the fact that teaching religion was left to her Arab staff. When criticised by SJS members in Sweden who wanted a Swede to perform what they saw as a most crucial educational task, Ekblad answered that the local teachers knew the children better than a foreigner could ever do, and this fact was instrumental when the goal was to best reach the young with the Protestant message. It might, however, also have been a question of language: despite diligent Arabic studies it took time for the Swedish headmistress to master the language fluently.⁶³

Another reason for Ekblad not to teach Christianity/Bible studies was the fact that she became increasingly a full-time administrator, spending most of her time fundraising for the building and yard that was bought in 1926, in addition to the new school building finished in 1929/1930. The Swedish headmistress’ large-scale and impressive fundraising efforts found resonance in Palestinian middle-class culture where charity and individual donations for the welfare of society was held in high esteem. The periodical Al-Iqtisadiyyat al-arabiyya [The Arab Economic Journal] for example, promoted “charity as a basic tenant of civilized conduct and social responsibility”.⁶⁴ Charity was also important to the Arab staff at the Swedish school. The Arab teachers and Ekblad created a sewing club and the products made at these meetings, mostly embroideries, were sold in Sweden and helped finance, among other things, the purchase of the new school building.

The female teachers were the first generation of Palestinian women to earn a salary and have the possibility of managing their own finances. Compared to the majority of Palestinians, who lived in poverty, these women belonged to an elite who, in the words of Sherene Seikaly, believed that “managing money … was crucial to maintaining social norms. Thus, the editors of Al-Iqtisadiyyat al-arabiyya provided precise calculations for the saving and spending patterns of the model middle (class).… The most important aim of these budgetary prescriptions was saving, which emerges as the basic principles of a healthy and successful family.… Saving was a grave matter, and if ignored, the individual would incur harm on ‘himself, his family, and his surroundings’”.⁶⁵

According to Said Makdisi, Munira Badr Musa was responsible for the family budget and gained great respect for her control of family and their church’s finances (her husband was a Baptist minister in Nazareth in the 1920s). This skill she might have learned at the Protestant mission schools she attended. Ekblad also eagerly promoted budgeting one’s finances and the importance of saving. She encouraged her staff members to open savings accounts and place their money in the bank.⁶⁶ According to Seikaly, the editors of Al-Iqtisadiyyat claimed that “Economic conduct would be a source of personal empowerment and great individual benefit. But the advantages were even broader. Accumulating and saving money was a national obligation”.⁶⁷ When Ekblad introduced the art of saving money and opening a saving account not only to her Arab staff, but also to the pupils, she was encouraging Palestinian nation-building (Fig. 3).

Fig. 3

Teachers and headmistress Ekblad at the Swedish School. Caption written on the back of the photo: “We teachers in Jerusalem, Christmas 1936”. Held in Uppsala University Library at the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society’s Collection. Image courtesy of the Swedish Jerusalem Society. http://www.alvin-portal.org/alvin/view.jsf?pid=alvin-record%3A93016&dswid=1244

Parents and Children: Expectations and Attractions

In the years after World War I, during the period of British rule, Jerusalem developed into a cosmopolitan and modern city. In this process of economic and social growth the rise in the general level of education played a major part.⁶⁸ According to Seikaly, it was precisely a certain level of education that was the defining component of this middle class: “It was the educational status of the man of the household that, above all, defined the Palestinian middle class”.⁶⁹ It was the men who “were responsible for the financial and ‘cultural’ needs of the middle-class family”.⁷⁰ Even so, in order to have educated men one needed educated mothers.⁷¹ This fact was reflected in the number of fathers who visited the Swedish institution looking for a suitable primary school for their daughters, and kindergarten and lower-class education for their sons. Fathers (sometimes with their wives) came with their young children to inspect the premises before deciding which school to choose for their offspring. The fathers also attended the annual Christmas parties, and they were invited to a separate party together with non-Palestinian guests, in order not to infringe on traditions of seclusion.⁷²

What did these fathers and their wives expect from the Swedish School? There were two main items on their wish list: Before the war Arabic had been the only language of instruction at the Swedish school. From the very beginning of the Mandate, however, with English becoming one of the three official languages in Palestine, parents wanted English as a subject for their children. The Swedes responded quickly by hiring Arab teachers who were able to teach English—that is, women educated in one of the American or British Protestant mission schools of the Levant. In addition, Ekblad also taught English.

The second desire of many parents was more comprehensive: They wanted the school to become an accredited primary school with a kindergarten, something that would secure pupils access to higher educational institutions.⁷³ Jerusalem was a buyers’ market when it came to Christian schools. Children and parents could choose between a number of Christian establishments, and pupils could quit school in the middle of term to start a new one that seemed to be more attractive. Thus, in order to be competitive, and not least because of Ekblad’s ambitions, the Swedish institution had become an official primary school by 1926, when they moved into their own building.

The purchase of a spacious Arab private home and garden was made possible partly because of a generous donation from the founder of the SJS, Bishop Knut Henning G. von Schéele (1838–1920) and his wife, Anna Ekman Schéele (1850–1925). Thanks to the von Schéeles the SJS was able to buy a suitable building and a large plot of land in Musrara, a wealthy Christian Arab neighbourhood just north of the Damascus Gate. The neighbourhood’s history stemmed from the nineteenth century when wealthy Arabs had opted to live outside the city wall and built large, luxurious mansions in this area: The Swedish School had found a stately neighbourhood with close proximity to their main users. From the rooftop of the school one could overlook the old city of Jerusalem and beyond. Michael F. Davie has analysed the particular topographic locations of mission schools in Beirut, arguing that: “The location of these institutions seems to have not been left to chance”.⁷⁴ This was true for the new location of the Swedish school, which was found and purchased with the help of the Swedish consul in Jerusalem, the aforementioned Lars Hol Larsen, who having grown up in the city had a deep local knowledge.

On these new premises, the Swedish school added a factor to its attractions: a modern and spacious playground. This outdoor area, where the youngest children could play, and a yard where the older children would do gymnastics, was part of the Swedish educational philosophy.⁷⁵ The new swings and seesaws, not found in many other school yards, were also extremely effective in attracting the youngest pupils. When Ekblad introduced a dramatic change to the school’s daily schedule—the children went from having a long break in the middle of the day to a Swedish school day (with lunch at school and an earlier finish)—the playground was open for children in the afternoons. This made the fact that there was no school in the afternoon easier to accept for parents. The schoolyard was also popular in the early mornings before classes. By 6:30 in the morning many of the schoolboys played football in the yard.⁷⁶ This yard and playground was open to all children, not only pupils at the school, thus contributing to the general welfare of Arab children in the neighbourhood.

At the time of the move to the new building there were 106 children in the school. Among the older girls finishing in the spring of 1927, two would continue on to the Jerusalem Girls’ College and two on to the American Friends’ School in Ramallah.⁷⁷ This was in line with Ekblad’s vision of the role of the school: “The English and Americans have excellent schools for higher level education. That is why I believe we Swedes should, through limiting ourselves to a good kindergarten and primary school, create a good base for those children who later would be able to continue to study”.⁷⁸ The Swedish School was by now an acknowledged part of the Christian educational system and cooperated with the important Protestant schools. The fact that Ekblad was a member of the educational committee of the United Missionary Council (the Organisation of Protestant Missions in Palestine and Syria) strengthened the Swedish role in the Christian educational community.⁷⁹

The majority of pupils continued to come from the Christian middle class. During the 1920s, however, there was a relatively large increase in the number of fee-paying Muslim students. Muslim parents wanted their children to be exempted from Christian lessons and some wanted Koran lessons, but neither the board in Uppsala or Ekblad saw this as acceptable in a Swedish school. Even so, the number of Muslim pupils kept increasing.⁸⁰ Among the Muslim pupils were children from prominent Jerusalem families; two of the first Muslim pupils were sons of the head of the Moslem Orphanage in Jerusalem. This was a case of interfaith marriage, with a Muslim father and a mother who belonged to the Protestant congregation. Even so, there were also Muslim pupils with no Christian connection attending the school. The Nashashibi family, for example, sent several children, including a nephew of Jerusalem’s governor, to the Swedish School. The fact that the major’s close relatives were attending the Swedish school was a great recommendation for the institution among the Muslim population.⁸¹

The Swedish School did not, however, only cater for middle-class families, it also wanted to reach out to the poorer part of the population. The focus on the underprivileged stemmed from the school policy before the war, when all pupils had come from impoverished families. In addition, Ekblad’s experience from social work in poor neighbourhoods in Stockholm made her educational program give “the poor pupils, whom after finishing our school, have to work or go back to their home, good knowledge in the usual school subjects and evangelical Christianity”.⁸² These children, who got a free place, paid for their education by helping to clean after school.⁸³ It was an explicit policy of the school to treat the poor children the same as fee-paying pupils. There should be no favouritism from teachers towards pupils, regardless of wealth and social status. This was in theory a legacy from the Swedish school system that was free and universal. According to a Swedish observer, “the best traditions of Sweden’s folkskola had through its headmistress benefitted Palestinian education”.⁸⁴ In a similar manner to poor children in Sweden, these Palestinian children might experience some upward mobility because of their access to education. Even so, the fact that the pupils who received a grant had to stay behind and clean after school-hours did set them apart from the fee-paying children and must have been a social stigma (Fig. 4).

Fig. 4

“School children playing in the school yard at the Swedish School, ca. 1930” Held in Uppsala University Library at the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society’s Collection. Image courtesy of the Swedish Jerusalem Society. http://www.alvin-portal.org/alvin/imageViewer.jsf?dsId=ATTACHMENT-0001&pid=alvin-record%3A194135&dswid=-2843

Why Did Arab Parents Send Their Children to the Swedish School?

Even if there was no attempt at conversion in Ekblad’s school, Orthodox Christian and Muslim parents had to accept that their children started their day in school with a short morning prayer and the singing of a hymn, and that they had lessons in Protestant Christian Bible study.⁸⁵ As with other mission institutions in Palestine, Muslim parents were worried about their children being exposed to Christian religious teachings.⁸⁶ Greek Orthodox parents might also have had the same worries concerning Protestant influences. Why did these Palestinian parents send their children to a Protestant institution?

Firstly, the Arabs demanded more control over their educational system, which the British did not allow. As Said Makdisi put it, “in the mid-1920s, there was much dissatisfaction in the Palestinian towns with the state of the government schools, not only academically, but also administratively and politically. Furious debates surrounded the schools, which gradually became the focal point of Palestinian nationalism…”.⁸⁷ Moreover, the Swedish institution’s Arab language profile was an important factor that was also related to growing Arab national awareness.⁸⁸

Teaching the young to read and write their mother tongue in order for them to know the Bible had been a royal mandate in the Scandinavian countries since the eighteenth century. Scandinavian missions did not promote their own languages, but taught themselves local languages in order to teach reading and writing in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century Madagascar, China and South Africa.⁸⁹ This emphasis on teaching the native language was also a characteristic of the Swedish enterprise in Jerusalem. When an experienced Palestinian teacher who had been teaching Arabic for many years came to see Ekblad to tell her that the grammar teaching at the Swedish school was not up to standard, Ekblad listened and gratefully accepted the teacher’s suggestions. The Arabic teaching improved and gained a solid reputation: The Missionary Council’s language school started sending interns to the Swedish School because of their Arabic-language teaching.⁹⁰ Likewise, the Ministry of Education sent interns to the school, preferring the Swedish institution to the British schools. The school’s standing also made local teachers visit in order to learn and be inspired. This was the case with a competent female Arabic teacher from the Greek Orthodox National School that was started in 1924; she became a regular guest, wanting to know about new teaching methods and practices.⁹¹

The fact that Arabic was the main language of instruction made the Swedish school stand out from the British, American, French and Italian (and German?) mission schools where the main language of instruction would be the national language of the various schools. In addition to the lack of Arabic as the language of instruction, these schools were unpopular because they lacked connectedness to the Palestinian population. In the words of Khalil Totah:

Missionary schools are often criticised by both Moslems and Christians. The former accuse them of “missionarizing” which is perhaps a mild form of proselytising and the latter complain that the post-war (World War One) tuition fees are too heavy. Moreover, the feeling is quite universal that, in spite of their service, mission schools are detrimental to Arab solidarity. Like the Government (British) schools, they are controlled by foreigners and are said to be lacking in zeal for Arab nationalism. Some are even accused of being political propagandists for their own governments. It is pointed out, e.g. that French schools emphasise French history and geography more than the Arab; that American schools exalt American customs more than they foster Arab culture and native manners; that Italian schools serve Italian rather than Arab interests; and that German education is conducive to loyalty to Germany instead of love for Palestine.⁹²

Sweden was not a great power and did not have ambitions towards political influence in Palestine. Even so, the SJS had strong ties to the Swedish State Church and by the late 1920s the Swedish School had become a popular meeting place for Swedes living and travelling in Palestine and neighbouring countries. Signe Ekblad, known as the “Swedish ambassador” in Jerusalem, exercised “public diplomacy”; “the process by which direct relations with people in a country are pursued to advance the interests and extend the values of those being represented”.⁹³ How did the Swedish School influence Jerusalem society?

Besides the Protestant religion and educational profile, the SJS built on Swedish aesthetics, arts and handicrafts in order to communicate with the Palestinian public. Instead of choosing local furniture for the new building, Ekblad and the SJS board decided to order furniture and textiles from Sweden. The furniture was bought in Stockholm. Financed by Swedish supporters and shipped via Gothenburg, the teachers’ office was furnished with a large square table, a large writing desk and a book case, all in oak and made by Swedish craftsmen. There were hand-woven textiles and table cloths from Sweden, and beautiful Swedish candle holders.⁹⁴ The class rooms had flowers and green plants in the windowsills, and copies of paintings by the popular Swedish artist Carl Larsson (1853–1919) on the walls. The Swedish element was underscored by the Swedish Christmas Party, held at the school every year, which became a popular event in Jerusalem. In addition to school children and staff, the guests included both Christian and Muslim parents and the people from the British Mandate administration.⁹⁵

The furniture and annual Christmas gifts played a significant role both materially and psychologically in the transnational links between Sweden and Palestine.⁹⁶ In addition to being a daily reminder of the donors in Sweden, it was believed that contributing to a modern, practical and aesthetically pleasing (in accordance with Scandinavian taste) environment would create a positive atmosphere for both staff and children: “The new furniture will always remind us of the love and work of many Swedes in order to secure peaceful and good working conditions at the Swedish school”.⁹⁷

While Swedish aesthetics were prominent at the school, it was, however, the fusion of the Scandinavian and Middle Eastern that made it seem exceptionally appealing. Ekblad’s private rooms and hall for entertaining guests were places in which “Swedish home comfort meets oriental fantasies”.⁹⁸ According to Lindqvist, “the largest room in the house is an indescribable attractive mix between a saloon for diplomats and artist’s studio, a charming, beautifully proportioned large party room characterised by entertainment and personal taste. Many are those Swedes who have felt a pang of sudden and happy longing for home, and many are those foreigners who have for the first time met and gained a lasting impression of Swedish culture”.⁹⁹ This might have been the description of a Scandinavian embassy in an Eastern context; a “saloon for diplomats”.¹⁰⁰

In addition to being part of the school’s image-building, the emphasis on aesthetics was also related to modern ideas of health, hygiene and an orderly life. Cleanliness was similarly part of modern Swedish culture.¹⁰¹ To Ekblad, with her background in both education and social work, cleanliness and order were part of Christian pedagogy.¹⁰² Swedish guests as well as British officials—the District Governor of Jerusalem, Edward Keith-Roach, and the Director of Education, Humphrey Bowman—all talked about cleanliness and order when describing the school. As seen earlier, even the Arab teachers (who had written the song) and the young pupils had greeted their Swedish headmistress by expressing a hope that she would teach them how to “be diligent and clean”. The Jerusalem health authorities, represented by the Armenian Palestinian doctor Kishishian, when visiting the new school a few days before the beginning of the school year in October 1926, were able to verify that “the level of cleanliness and order in this school is admirable”.¹⁰³

Cleanliness was not just about fighting germs, however: in a Scandinavian context a clean home or school also represented care, respect for its users, and—not least—self-respect. Not all mission schools had this practice of cleanliness. Hilda Musa Said (b. 1932?) remembered that at the American School for Girls in Beirut, where she enrolled in 1928, “the bathrooms were quite cold and the lavatories were dirty”¹⁰⁴ (Fig. 5).

Fig. 5

Photo taken outside the new school buildings in 1930: From left to right: Lewis Larsson, Swedish Consul General to Jerusalem, Humphrey Bowman, Director of Education, Signe Ekblad, Eliel Löfgren, Swedish politician and former foreign minister of Sweden, Stig Sahlin, Swedish diplomat and the commission´s secretary, Edward Keith-Roach, District Governor of Jerusalem, and unknown consular guard. The photo is taken in connection with the Western Wall commission’s visit to Jerusalem in 1930. The commission was appointed by the British government and approved of the League of Nations to investigate the causes of 1929-ritos. Eliel Löfgren and Stig Sahlin were both members of the commission, with Sahlin as the commission’s secretary. The image captures Signe Ekblad in her role as the “Swedish ambassador” in Jerusalem, thus visualising Swedish influence in “The Holy Land” for a Swedish audience. Held in Uppsala University Library at the Swedish Jerusalem’s Society’s Collection. Image courtesy of the Swedish Jerusalem Society. http://www.alvin-portal.org/alvin/imageViewer.jsf?dsId=ATTACHMENT-0001&pid=alvin-record%3A270058&dswid=4603

Conclusion

For both the Christian and Muslim communities the Swedish School represented an alternative way of approaching the world. Arabic was the main language of instruction and the children were taught by well-educated Arab female teachers. The Arab language base was a contrast to the language policies in other foreign mission schools as well as British government institutions. Parents and pupils influenced the Swedish School’s educational profile with demands that arose from the new reality under British Mandatory rule. These parents and pupils were also challenged by the fact that pupils from the middle class and the urban poor attended the same lessons and were—in theory at least—treated in an equal way regardless of social or religious background.

For the Swedes, the school in Musrara represented Swedish welfare and innovation in the Holy Land but it also carried a history of Swedish national presence in Jerusalem since Ottoman times, thus becoming a symbol of both Western ideas of modernity and Nordic colonialism.¹⁰⁵ Moreover, through the leadership of Signe Ekblad the school gained a reputation as a “Swedish Embassy” in Palestine “this significant Swedish outpost, worthy of all our support and love, by the border to the Orient”.¹⁰⁶ The school’s Swedish “public diplomacy” lived on even after it had to close down in 1948. A year before, in 1947, the Swedish State church had established the Swedish Theological Institute. In the ecumenical spirit of Ekblad and the SJS, the Institute, which still exists today, was founded with the aim of working for dialogue between Christians and Jews.

In the early 1950s different humanitarian groups within the Swedish church started collecting funds for Palestinian refugees, including for the Augusta Victoria hospital on the Mount of Olives. In 1959 the SJS took over a girls’ school from the Lutheran congregation in Bethlehem, renaming it the Good Shepherd’s Swedish School.¹⁰⁷ Signe Ekblad’s educational endeavours also left a strong educational legacy: The Good Shepherd’s Swedish School, with its 300 pupils, is among the most important Palestinian girls’ schools today.¹⁰⁸