The genesis of Dagens Nyheter (DN), Sweden’s prominent daily newspaper, began precariously on December 23, 1864. Its founder, Rudolf Wall, affectionately nicknamed ”Lille Rulle” (Little Roller), launched the paper from a dilapidated building on Riddarholmen Island with a skeletal staff of three. Despite Wall’s extensive experience in the newspaper industry, starting as a messenger boy at Aftonbladet at just thirteen, his previous ventures, including the satirical magazine Friskytten and a foray into the liquor business, had ended in financial ruin. The future of DN seemed uncertain, mirroring the precarious financial situation of its founder. Yet, despite these daunting circumstances, Wall remained optimistic, fueled by his passion for news, the burgeoning literacy rates in Sweden, and the promise of cheaper paper production. This optimism, combined with a keen news sense, laid the foundation for what would become a journalistic institution.
Wall’s obsession with providing the latest news drove him to innovative measures. Recognizing the delay in postal delivery, he arranged for a DN courier to collect mail directly from the Liljeholmen train station, bypassing the overnight wait at the post office. This strategic move gave DN a crucial edge over competitors, delivering fresher news to its readers. This commitment to timely reporting resonated with the public, quickly exceeding circulation targets and allowing the newspaper to relocate to larger premises in Gamla Stan, complete with its own printing press. By 1889, DN’s 25th anniversary, it had become Stockholm’s leading newspaper, a testament to Wall’s vision and dedication. However, Wall himself wasn’t present to witness this milestone. He had sold his majority stake the previous year to Fredrik Vult von Steijern, a printer and DN’s music critic, marking the end of his direct involvement with the newspaper he had founded.
DN continued to evolve, attracting notable journalists who shaped its coverage and further cemented its place in Swedish society. In 1917, amidst the chaos of the October Revolution, DN reporter Tora Garm embarked on a daring undercover mission to Petrograd (now St. Petersburg). Disguised as a Salvation Army soldier, Garm navigated the tumultuous city, providing firsthand accounts of the revolution’s impact on ordinary citizens. Her vivid descriptions of overcrowded trams, the struggling bourgeoisie, and her brief encounter with Vladimir Lenin himself captivated readers. Though her tenure at DN was short-lived, Garm’s intrepid reporting paved the way for future female foreign correspondents. Another pioneering woman journalist, Barbro Alving, known by her pen name “Bang,” joined DN in 1934, a time of both economic hardship and creative ferment at the paper. Alving’s unconventional approach to reporting, focusing on social commentary and human interest stories rather than traditional news formats, resonated with the changing times.
Alving’s coverage of the 1936 Berlin Olympics marked her breakthrough. Ignoring the typical sports reporting, she instead focused on the Nazi propaganda machine surrounding the games, using wit and irony to expose the underlying political reality. Her reporting from Berlin, the Spanish Civil War, WWII fronts in Finland, post-atomic bomb Hiroshima, pre-independence India, and the Hungarian Uprising of 1956 cemented her reputation as a fearless and insightful journalist. Alving’s personal life, unconventional by the standards of the time, also became part of her public persona, further blurring the lines between the personal and the professional in her reporting. Her pacifist beliefs led to her imprisonment for refusing to participate in civil defense drills, an experience she chronicled in DN. However, her unwavering stance against nuclear weapons ultimately led to her departure from the paper in 1958, protesting DN’s editorial support for a Swedish nuclear arsenal. She joined Vecko-Journalen, continuing her impactful career elsewhere.
The post-World War II era saw DN’s influence grow considerably, driven by rising circulation, advertising revenue, and its emergence as a central platform for political and cultural debate in Sweden. This ascendancy was largely attributed to Herbert Tingsten, a renowned political scientist and staunch anti-Nazi who became DN’s editor-in-chief in 1946. Tingsten sharpened the newspaper’s focus on societal issues, advocating for controversial stances like Swedish nuclear armament and NATO membership, sparking internal conflicts, including the departure of Barbro Alving. His outspoken views, ranging from abolishing the monarchy to supporting Israel and condemning apartheid in South Africa, cemented DN’s role as a leading voice in national discourse. However, his support for the social democratic government’s pension reform put him at odds with DN’s ownership and its traditionally liberal stance, ultimately leading to his resignation in 1959. Tingsten’s successors inherited a newspaper firmly entrenched as a major force in Swedish public life.
Amidst these turbulent times and evolving editorial directions, Jan Olof Olsson, known as ”Jolo,” carved a unique space for himself at DN. Working at the newspaper from 1945 to 1974, Jolo eschewed grand narratives and foreign correspondence, focusing instead on the minutiae of everyday life, from the streets of Stockholm to the bustling avenues of Broadway. His intimate portraits, infused with a gentle humor and attention to detail, resonated deeply with readers. Jolo’s ability to find the extraordinary in the ordinary, capturing the essence of a moment through evocative descriptions of seemingly insignificant details, made him a beloved figure in DN’s history. His legacy of insightful and relatable storytelling continues to inspire journalists today. As DN celebrates its 160th anniversary, the newspaper faces new challenges in the form of rapidly advancing artificial intelligence and its potential impact on journalistic practices. Perhaps Jolo’s unique style, characterized by personal observation and a focus on human connection, can serve as a model for journalists navigating the evolving media landscape, ensuring that the human voice remains distinct and relevant in the age of AI.
