“Making Sweden Sweden Again”—or Undoing the Sweden You Know?

In this commentary, Dr. Bulent Kenes examines the political transformation of Sweden through the rise of the Sweden Democrats (SD) and normalization of far-right. Drawing on his experience of seeking refuge in a country once widely regarded as a “moral superpower,” Kenes contrasts Sweden’s longstanding commitments to liberal democracy, pluralism, multicultural accommodation, gender equality, minority rights, and inclusive citizenship with the SD’s increasingly influential nativist and ethno-nationalist project. He argues that the breaking of the cordon sanitaire and the Tidö Agreement have helped move ideas once confined to the far right into mainstream politics. As Sweden approaches the September 13 election, Kenes asks whether the SD’s promise to “make Sweden Sweden again” ultimately risks dismantling the very values that historically made Sweden distinctive.

By Bulent Kenes

For as long as I can remember, I have worked for human rights, the rule of law, constitutional and liberal democracy, an egalitarian and just society, and global peace. During my years as a professional journalist and media executive, I likewise sought to defend and advance these values. I vocally opposed every step taken by Erdogan’s government after 2011 as Turkey moved increasingly toward one-man rule and authoritarianism, and I never withheld my criticism. As Erdogan rapidly advanced toward one-man rule and autocracy, as every aspiring dictator does, I became a target of his repression. Because of my criticism centered on democracy, the rule of law, and human rights etc., I was subjected to countless smear campaigns in pro-Erdogan media and on social media, faced dozens of investigations, was repeatedly detained, and was briefly imprisoned. 

By 2016, as Erdogan was constructing his autocratic regime step by step and there was no longer room for me to breathe in Turkey, I decided to leave the country. But where should I go? By virtue of my profession, I had by then visited more than 70 countries, including Sweden, and had lived in the United States for several years. Yet the choice for me was not so difficult. I knew that the very values and standards whose absence I had felt in my own country and for which I had struggled—democracy, human rights, transparency, the rule of law, freedom of the press and expression, gender equality, environmental rights and justice, and similar principles—shone most brightly in Sweden, which at the time was widely regarded as a “moral superpower.” 

As Turkey fell into the grip of autocracy and Islamofascism, my choice was clear. Sweden stood out as a country in which virtually everything we had struggled, unsuccessfully, to establish and consolidate in Turkey had already become largely institutionalized. If, despite all our efforts, pluralist and liberal democracy, a state governed by the rule of law according to universal standards, an almost exemplary environment for freedom of the press and expression, and similar values would simply not come to us, I believed that it was my most natural right to go to them. Having overcome all the technical obstacles placed in my way by the Erdogan regime, I eventually managed to reach Sweden. 

Over the ten years since then, unfortunately, Sweden—like the rest of the world—has changed considerably. Alongside some genuine problems generated by the 2015 migration wave, far-right perceptions of threat were constructed on a scale vastly exceeding the actual magnitude of those problems. In the process, both the social sensibilities that made Sweden the Sweden we knew have been eroded and political actors increasingly influenced by the far right have gradually weakened the country’s once-proud status as a “moral superpower.” Sweden, which one might have hoped would serve as one of the moral barriers against the global drift toward the far right, has itself undergone a far-reaching political transformation in the same direction. 

At the center of this transformation are the Sweden Democrats (SD), who increasingly challenge the liberal, pluralist, and inclusive political culture that long underpinned Sweden’s reputation as a “moral superpower.” The ideological core of the SD combines nativism, authoritarianism, and populism, while migration, Islam, national identity, and cultural homogeneity constitute central axes of its political discourse. The party advances a more homogeneous conception of the nation grounded in ethno-nationalism and frames immigrants, particularly Muslims, as potential threats to Sweden’s cultural integrity and welfare state. At this point, however, I should not fail to acknowledge the provocative and highly irresponsible activities of certain Muslim immigrant groups. 

Given the SD’s historical roots in Swedish fascism, nazism, white nationalism, and far-right milieus, one of the most consequential changes under Jimmie Åkesson has been the effort to largely free the party from the burden of this past and give it a more legitimate and parliamentary appearance. Yet despite this “normalization” and transformation of its public image, opposition to immigration and Islamophobia have retained their central place in the party’s political discourse. As early as 2009, Åkesson described various phenomena associated with Islam as “the greatest foreign threat to Sweden since the Second World War” and placed Muslims at the center of this threat narrative—one of the most striking manifestations of this ideological continuity. 

Although its historical roots extend much further back, in the populist far-right political imaginary represented today by the SD, multiculturalism is portrayed not as a form of pluralism that enriches Swedish society but as a source of social fragmentation and weakening national cohesion. In its place, folkhem—the “people’s home”—is being reasserted. Yet Åkesson’s vision of folkhem differs markedly from Per Albin Hansson’s: it is a tightly integrated society based largely on the ethnic and cultural homogeneity of the native Swedish majority, shared values, and solidarity. Within this understanding, “being Swedish” means more than merely holding Swedish citizenship; immigrants are expected to adapt culturally to “Swedish values” and to the “Christian, democratic world” to which Sweden is understood to belong. The boundary between integration and assimilation consequently becomes increasingly blurred. 

Islam and Muslims occupy a distinctive place in this politics of boundary-making. In Åkesson’s discourse, Christianity and its moral values are defined as foundational pillars of folkhem, whereas Islam is frequently portrayed as being in conflict with Sweden’s cultural and social order. The rise of the SD therefore cannot be understood simply as the hardening of immigration policy or the electoral success of a populist radical right party. At a deeper level, it represents a broader political transformation in which Sweden’s “exceptionalism,” built upon consociational democracy, multiculturalism, inclusive citizenship, and pluralism, is increasingly displaced by the normalization of a more closed, assimilationist, and ethno-culturally homogeneous vision of Sweden. 

Many racist and far-right positions that were once considered shameful, or even unacceptable, within mainstream politics when the SD was founded have today become substantially normalized. The breaking of the cordon sanitaire surrounding the SD in 2022 did more than open greater political space for the party’s far-right and ethno-populist positions. In exchange for its external support for the coalition government formed by the center-right parties, the extensive policy agenda it secured through the Tidö Agreement gave the SD extraordinary influence over government policy. Discourses once regarded as unacceptable and incompatible with the Sweden we knew have, through the Tidö Agreement, become part of government policy and mainstream political debate. Changes to migration and terrorism legislation over the past four years, measures that have generated debate over press and freedom of expression, and new political orientations concerning gender equality have made the question of whether Sweden is steadily moving away from the Sweden we knew all the more pressing. 

It is precisely here that the central irony of the SD’s promise to “making Sweden Sweden again” lies. Sweden’s extraordinary international prestige was not built merely on prosperity and effective governance. It was also grounded in liberal democracy, openness, multicultural accommodation, gender equality, strong minority rights, and an inclusive conception of citizenship. Despite certain notable deteriorations in some international indicators amid initiatives moving in the opposite direction—initiatives spearheaded by the SD—international indices show that significant parts of this institutional architecture, thankfully, remain resilient today. 

The Sweden Democrats, however, offer a different answer to the question of what Sweden should be. Their political project places more restrictive immigration policies, assimilation, cultural homogeneity, and the preservation of a particular Swedish national identity grounded in ethnicity at the center of political belonging. Particularly significant is the increasingly hard-line approach toward Islam and Muslims: legitimate debates that need to be conducted about radical Islamism and problems of integration can, at times, become intertwined with broader Islamophobic narratives that treat the very presence of Muslims as a cultural threat. Opposition to multiculturalism similarly imagines social cohesion not through pluralism but through a greater degree of cultural—and implicitly ethnic—homogeneity. 

Sweden now heads back to the polls on September 13 after four years of the Tidö experiment and this broader transformation. The latest polling indicates a clear advantage for the opposition. Across the four most recent major surveys, the opposition’s lead over the Tidö bloc ranges from 3.7 to 10 percentage points, while the weighted polling average as of August 27 indicates an opposition advantage of approximately seven points. Together, S, V, MP, and C stand at roughly 52.6 percent, compared with approximately 45.7 percent for SD, M, KD, and L. Moreover, with the Liberals hovering around 2 percent—well below the 4 percent parliamentary threshold—the parliamentary arithmetic becomes even more difficult for the Tidö bloc. 

The SD, once excluded behind a cordon sanitaire, is no longer content merely to pull the Tidö parties toward the far right from outside government. It now openly expresses its ambition to enter government directly, demanding key ministerial portfolios. With a Trumpian slogan, it tells voters how, over the past four years, it has “made Sweden Sweden again” from outside government and now seeks a mandate to push its nativist, ethno-nationalist, populist, anti-Islam, and anti-immigration etc. policies even further. 

Yet what made the Sweden we knew distinctly Swedish was neither racism, the legacy of neo-Nazi politics, nor opposition to multiculturalism. If there is genuinely an ambition to “make Sweden Sweden again,” the Sweden worth remembering is the Sweden of Per Albin Hansson’s folkhem ideal, Tage Erlander’s democratic welfare state, and Olof Palme’s egalitarian, internationalist, and human-rights-centered political legacy. The question facing Swedish voters on September 13, therefore, is not simply who will form the next government. The more fundamental question is this: “Making Sweden Sweden Again”—but which Sweden? And what will the Sweden the world came to know as a “moral superpower” have to sacrifice for the Sweden that the SD is now seeking to create?