A shield, possibly Persian, was taken by Sweden from a Czech king. A greatcoat, possibly Russian, below, was looted by Swedes in 1700.

Sweden fought its last battle 200 years ago; 16th-century Polish armor is part of an exhibition.

STOCKHOLM .

It’s hard to find anyplace in Europe today, even here in peaceable Sweden, where people aren’t squabbling over cultural property and the spoils of war.
For some time, it turns out, a handful of nationalist Danes have been complaining about booty that the Swedes nabbed 350 years ago in a war with Denmark.
The cache includes an ornate canopy from Kronborg Castle, of Hamlet lore, and recently people in Skane, a region in the south of Sweden that was ceded by Denmark in 1658 after losing the war, said they wanted the canopy handed over.
In other words, one part of Sweden claimed restitution from, well, the rest of Sweden.
I stopped into the Royal Armory here for a show called “War Booty.
’’ The exhibition ends up being a refresher course in history for an amnesiac nation that, having not fought a battle since losing Finland to the Russians 200 years ago, clearly prefers to think of itself as the home of Dag Hammarskjold rather than as a bygone empire.
But into the 18th century, as the show recounts, Sweden stocked its libraries and museums and churches with stolen arms, books, altarpieces, textiles and art by painters like Titian and Tintoretto, Durer and Archimboldo.
Much of this loot was taken from Poland and Lithuania.
The show argues that this was the custom of the day and that the best thing now is simply to lay everything on the table for all the world to see.
Not until the Congress of Vienna in 1815 did countries in Europe generally agree that taking booty was a war crime.
Under the Communists, Poland and Czechoslovakia talked about getting back what Sweden took.
The Swedes volunteered to return a treasured scroll to the Poles as a goodwill gesture.
The Czechs longed for the Silver Bible, produced around 520 in Ravenna, Italy.
It had wended its way to a monastery in Essen, Germany, before ending up in the hands of Rudolph II in Prague, from whom Sweden’s Queen Christina grabbed it in 1648.
Former Eastern bloc countries are caught today between pressing to recover works like these Bibles and proving themselves to be agreeable partners in the European Union.
It’s a tricky diplomatic problem that 17th-century monarchs like Christina didn’t face.
“Do not forget to procure and send me the library and the rarities there in Prague,’’ she instructed her troops.
“These, as you know, are all I really care about.
’’ Does it matter whether booty comes from good wars or bad ones, from evil owners or helpless ones - In principle, the answer should be no.
But Germany in World War II stole art from its victims; the Soviets then looted Germany when their troops overran Berlin.
In Germany’s case, it’s considered a war crime.
Russians insist their actions were just revenge.
No solution can rely just on laws and logic.
The Congress of Vienna in 1815 as the moral dividing line won’t satisfy the Greeks, who want Elgin’s marbles back.
Restitution and patrimony disputes ultimately come down to emotions and the vagaries of realpolitik.
One of the treasures of the Swedish armory is a helmet that belonged to Ivan the Terrible, which came from the Poles, who stole it from Moscow.
The Swedes now claim it as their national heritage, but so do the Poles, although it’s Russian.
Nationalism is often at the root of these cultural disputes .
Objects of historic eloquence, away from their homeland, can be sources of national pride, but they can also be diplomats of cultural exchange, so long as they are accessible.
Accessibility matters far more than ownership at the end of the day.