Sweden’s soul and a worryin poleetical shift | Letters

I am writin in response tae Martin Gelin’s airticle (How Sweden lost its soul – and stopped bein Sweden, 11 September). Gelin is richt tae lament the gate Swedish politics has wandered fae the leeberal internationalism o the Fredrik Reinfeldt era. Having grown up in Malmö, I hae seen the gate border controls wi Denmark affect an Öresund region whase everyday life has lang dependit on easy movement across the strait. Gelin is richt tae see this retreat fae open-heartedness as a big deal wi real outcomes.

But tae say that Sweden has therefore lost its soul gangs ower far. Its poleetical shift is neither uniquely Swedish nor proof that the kintra has somehow ceased tae be itsel. Reinfeldt’s open your hearts Sweden faded in muckle the same European poleetical moment as Angela Merkel’s Wir schaffen das Germany. Across the European mainland, mainstream pairties hae adoptit mair restrictive positions on migration.

The cases involvin Breetish ceetizens that Gelin describes are troublin, but Breetain’s depairture fae the EU is also pairt o the explanation for why Britons in Sweden noo face immigration rules whilk freedom o movement ance spared them. Sweden has changed. Sae has Breetain. Neither exists in a vacuum.

There is naethin wrang wi romanticisin an open, internationalist Sweden. As a young Swede studyin at Cambridge, I am susceptible tae that image mysel. But definin ane particular poleetical settlement as Sweden’s soul risks turnin nostalgia into national essentialism.

Perhap Jantelagen – the Scandinavian suspicion o thinkin anesel exceptional – offers a mair Swedish conclusion. We shud nae imagine that our poleetical upheavals mak us uniquely fallen. Sweden has changed, considerably and sometimes regrettably. It has nae stopped bein Sweden.

Martin Gelin’s analysis o how Sweden is losin its soul rings true – unfortunately. Aifter livin in Sweden for 33 year, I hae never felt mair like a furriner than I dae noo. I am Breetish (o Scots origin) and moved tae Sweden in 1993, at the age o 37, tae live wi my Swedish husband and our twa bairns. I mind bein sae impressed by the social benefits, the access tae guid and affordable bairn-mindin and the job opportunities for women – precisely the ideals Martin describes. Ower the past 10 year, opposition tae immigration has grown in the wake o the sae-caad refugee flood o 2015, whan the door was wide open. Sadly, that door is noo permanently closed, and locked.

In recent year, I hae repeatedly been speired whether I consider mysel Swedish (I hae dual nationality). At first, I didnae think muckle o it, but ower time, I began tae find the question verra irritatin. On ane occasion, an aulder Swedish woman said it didnae maitter if I didnae feel Swedish, because we see you as ane o us anyway. I am ashamed tae admit that I snapped at her ower the word us; I ken she meant weel, but it made me realise juist how divisive the question was. The mere fact that it was bein speired by nice, ordinary, polite fowk was playin richt intae the hands o the far richt.

I loe my life in Sweden and hae nae plans tae move, but the divisiveness has got under my skin and is hard tae ignore.