Swedish Election Left the Blocs Closer on Policy – But Split Over Israel and Antisemitism

The center-left won Sweden's election by a slim margin, but now comes the hard part

Published in Haaretz: Swedish Election Left the Blocs Closer on Policy – But Split Over Israel and Antisemitism

Following a tight, polarized election campaign, Sweden woke up Monday morning to a result that almost couldn't be any closer. According to preliminary results, the four opposition parties – the Social Democrats, the Left Party, the Center Party and the Greens – won a combined 176 of the 349 seats in parliament, against 173 for the right-wing bloc. If the result holds, it will mark the end of the center-right government led by Ulf Kristersson and the possible return of Social Democratic leader Magdalena Andersson as Sweden's prime minister.

The result, however, is not yet final. More votes will be counted on Wednesday, including late-arriving early ballots and votes from abroad, and the Swedish Election Authority is expected to announce the final result only later in the week. The gap between the blocs is small enough that even a shift of a few seats could prove significant. Andersson said on election night that if the current result holds, "Sweden will get a new government." Kristersson, for his part, has not conceded.

The result largely reflects the unusual character of this campaign. Unlike the previous election, in 2022, when immigration and crime were front and center, this time no single issue dominated. The various parties tried to push the issues that suited them – the economy and taxes, healthcare, schools, crime, energy and immigration – but on several of the sharp disputes that once divided right and left, the gaps have narrowed considerably.

The dispute over immigration policy, for example, narrowed after the Social Democrats adopted a policy supporting reduced immigration and stricter requirements for integrating immigrants. Almost all the parties now back NATO membership and a significant increase in the defense budget, and there is also broad agreement on the need to step up the fight against organized crime.

It was against this backdrop that the campaign became especially polarized. Instead of a sharp argument over the direction of a single policy, much of it revolved around the question of who would sit in the next government. The right warned against a "red-green" government in which the Left Party would wield unprecedented influence, while the center-left warned against the populist right-wing Sweden Democrats entering government for the first time. Now, after the election, that question is shifting from a campaign talking point to the practical problem of forming a government.

In recent years, Sweden has been led by a center-right government headed by Kristersson of the conservative-liberal Moderates (Moderaterna). The government had no parliamentary majority and relied on two coalition partners – the Liberals and the Christian Democrats – as well as on the Sweden Democrats, which backed it from the outside and had considerable influence over its policies.

For most of the campaign, the polls gave the opposition a clear lead. At one point the gap reached around 10 percent, and an Andersson victory seemed almost certain. But in the final weeks that gap narrowed rapidly, and in the end the race stayed open almost until the very last vote.

Two senior figures in the outgoing coalition spoke to Haaretz before the election about how they saw the contest. The Social Democrats and the Center Party declined to be interviewed.

Joar Forssell of the Liberal Party (Liberalerna), a classic center-right party, who chairs the parliamentary Committee on Education, said that as far as his party was concerned, the answer to the question of what stood at the center of the election was education. The party, which has held the education portfolio for the past four years, wanted to keep it in order to improve student outcomes, strengthen the standing of teachers and continue removing smartphones and screens from schools.

The difficulty in identifying a single issue at the heart of the election, Forssell argued, was itself a sign of the outgoing government's success. "The current government has been delivering on many of the issues that have concerned Sweden in recent years," he said. "We have brought Sweden into NATO, we managed to reduce crime rates, we managed to accomplish a great deal in the schools, including new legislation banning mobile phones. Inflation is down, and economic growth is better than that of most European countries. The opposition is struggling to find an issue it can use to attack the government."

Alice Teodorescu Mawe, a member of the European Parliament for the Christian Democrats (Kristdemokraterna) and a candidate for the Swedish parliament, made a similar argument. In her view, the Social Democrats have in recent years moved closer to the right on issues that once defined the fault line in Swedish politics.

"When it comes to the general direction Sweden should take, the differences are relatively small, and there is broad agreement on issues such as migration and the reform of crime policy," she said, adding that the main ambition of the Social Democrats is to return to power and that, to achieve this, they have adopted positions similar to those of the governing coalition.

Teodorescu Mawe also pointed to a paradox that became Andersson's central problem: On some of these issues, the gap between the Social Democrats and their potential partners on the left – the Left Party and the Greens – is greater than the gap between the Social Democrats and the parties of the right-wing bloc. "These parties hold completely different positions on important issues such as nuclear power, the European Union and migration, and this is also one of the reasons why, since 2010, Swedish politics has repeatedly focused more on the composition of the coalition and the identity of the prime minister than on policy itself," she said. "That in itself is symptomatic: It is easier for journalists and politicians to talk about who is playing with whom than to deal with policy, and it is a win-win situation for everyone who is too lazy to get into a discussion about how the promises that have been made can actually be fulfilled."

For most of the 20th century, Sweden was a byword for a social-democratic welfare state. The Social Democrats ruled the country almost without interruption for more than 40 years, and during that time much of what became known as the "Swedish model" was built – powerful trade unions and extensive collective bargaining that brought a very large share of the economy under collective agreements. Alongside this, the state maintained a large public sector, universal public healthcare and education systems and a generous social safety net, financed by high taxes and producing relatively low levels of inequality.

In recent decades, right-wing and left-wing governments have alternated in power, and the model has changed following tax cuts, privatizations, the opening of public services to competition and reforms to benefits and pensions. But its basic skeleton has remained in place.

Even Forssell, a man of the center-right, does not propose dismantling the Swedish model. "Schools and the healthcare system will remain, and the core activities of the welfare state will continue to be financed almost entirely by taxes," he said. "The dividing line lies elsewhere: How large can the welfare state become before it turns into a nanny state? How much welfare can we provide before people become less concerned with finding a job or less concerned with contributing to society? Our government has proposed, for example, limiting the total amount of benefits a person can receive from the state. We want lower taxes and a system that does not reduce the incentive to work."

Teodorescu Mawe described a similar consensus. "There is agreement between the right and the left that Sweden should have a stable and generous welfare system, but a country that imposes such high taxes cannot accept poor public services, and in the coming years we will also face enormous defense expenditures, because security is at the heart of the welfare state – the state must first and foremost protect its citizens and its territory," she said.

She also opposes raising taxes, and emphasized the principle on which, she says, the model was originally built: "Everyone who can work should work. Today there are people, many of them immigrants, who do not work but still receive benefits, and this is destabilizing the system. That is why, for years, I have supported tying some welfare entitlements more closely to citizenship and to contributing to the financing of the system. Such measures would make clear that the welfare state is, to some extent, like a government insurance company: Here, too, you have to pay the premium before you can demand a payout."

Forssell and Teodorescu Mawe both believe the Swedish welfare model itself is not in danger. The Social Democrats, by contrast, largely framed the election as a battle over the future of the welfare state. They argued that four years of right-wing government were marked by the underfunding of the healthcare and education systems and by tax cuts for high earners.

In her speeches, Andersson repeatedly returned to the state of the schools, the long waits in the healthcare system and the erosion of welfare services. In a televised debate with Kristersson the week before the election, she said: "We're making the least sexy election promise, but the most important one – secure basic government funding for elderly care, for the healthcare system and for schools. When costs rise, government funding will rise too."

Europe’s New Right Is Deluded. The Continent’s Fate Is Up to the Left

At the end of the 1940s, while Europe was putting ‘never again’ into a work plan, a parallel movement was arising. What began in obscure realms now characterizes the far-right renaissance in Europe

published in "Haaretz": https://www.haaretz.com/world-news/2022-10-13/ty-article-magazine/.highlight/europes-new-right-is-deluded-the-continents-fate-is-up-to-the-left/00000183-d2d9-def3-a9a3-f3d90c1c0000

In the years following World War II, the words “never again” were a key to understanding political and social events in Europe. Shortly after the war, senior Nazi war criminals were tried in Nuremberg, and the United Nations was founded to safeguard the peace and security of the world. Then in 1948 the United States launched the Marshall Plan, with the aim of rehabilitating the Continent and setting it on a path of growth. One of the first treaties adopted by the UN was the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, a term coined by the Jewish lawyer Raphael Lemkin, who was one of the convention’s initiators. Thanks to these developments, by the end of the decade, the term “never again” had become more than a moral imperative: It was a work plan.

But concurrently, a parallel historical movement was rising, one that attracted less public attention. In the shadow of the new and free Europe, a united front began to coalesce; it aimed to restore Nazi and fascist values and ideas to dominant roles. A few years after the mass murders ended, an increasing number of movements and parties that bore the racist, nationalist and antidemocratic heritage that was vanquished in 1945 cropped up across the Continent.

It began in obscure realms, far from the eyes of the international institutions and the press. The Swedish historian Elisabeth Åsbrink describes the process in her 2016 book “1947: Where Now Begins.” She notes that Per Engdahl, the leader of the Swedish fascist movement who had been active during the war, began connecting nationalists from across the Continent – those from the losing side in the war. He brought Nazi war criminals to safe haven in Sweden and from there smuggled them around the world. Conferences that were public knowledge were held, working plans were written and parties were founded in many European countries. This is how the English fascist Oswald Mosley could be linked both ideologically and organizationally via the Italian Social Movement (MSI), the heir to Mussolini’s path, to the neo-Nazis in Scandinavia and the Low Countries and to the last of Hitler’s loyalists in Germany.

That unity did not last long. Ideological differences – questions of race, culture and nationalism – arose quickly, and were compounded by personal power struggles. The trans-European parent movement was gradually dissolved, and its branches in the various countries split into movements and parties of two main types: Some became violent, revolutionary fringe groups, while others strove to draw close to the mainstream.

In Sweden, which had been neutral during the war, thus evading the devastation caused by the fighting, a large number of neo-Nazi movements would emerge in the decades to come – from the National Socialist Workers’ Party (NSAP) in the 1940s during the war to Keep Sweden Swedish in the 1980s. In Italy, the MSI went through several incarnations before morphing into the National Alliance, in the 1990s. In 1954 France saw the establishment of the Rassemblement National Français by Maurice Bardèche, who was close to Engdahl, and Jean Louis Tixier-Vignancour, who had served in the Vichy regime. It’s these same three countries that now embody the far-right renaissance in Europe.

In 1988, members of the Swedish neo-Nazi scene founded the Sweden Democrats. One of its key figures was Gustaf Ekström, then 81, a former Swedish volunteer in the Waffen SS who had also been active in the NSAP. Ekstrom died in 1995, but his party is still around, and it crossed the electoral threshold for the first time in 2010. In last month’s parliamentary election, it became the country’s second-largest party, garnering more than 20 percent of the vote. Sweden’s next government will be wholly dependent on it.

While the Sweden Democrats were slowly and cautiously consolidating their strength, in 1992 a 15-year-old girl named Giorgia Meloni joined the youth movement of Italy’s the neo-fascist party, the MSI. She rose through the ranks of the party, which eventually became the Brothers of Italy (FdI), which in September won Italy’s parliamentary election. Meloni will be the next prime minister of Italy, borne on the wings of a party whose emblem makes use of the tricolor flame, the old Italian fascist symbol.l

In last April’s runoff presidential election in France, Emmanuel Macron, the incumbent and the centrist candidate, was victorious; but the losing candidate Marine Le Pen, received 41.45 percent of the vote, a personal high. Le Pen’s roots were planted in the same fascist ground that had been plowed originally by Per Engdahl. The European far right’s renewal movement in the 1950s had a monthly journal, Nation Europa, which was founded by a former SS officer, Arthur Ehrhardt. Among its writers were thinkers who became the living spirit of the new European right. One of them was a young Frenchman campaigning for the Comité National Français: Jean-Marie Le Pen.

His daughter’s party, recently renamed the National Rally, is similar to the Sweden Democrats and to Meloni’s party. The three, which represent the success of the far right’s postwar evolution, vehemently insist they are not fascists. They take pride in their conservatism and in encouraging “traditional family values”; they think that feminism, LGBTQ rights and access to abortion – not to mention immigration – have gone too far. Independent and activist courts, a free and unbiased media, and academia are also not their cup of tea. But publicly, they shake off accusations of racism and authoritarian tendencies.

It may well be that the great problem with these parties may not be their extremism, antisemitism and xenophobia, but the lack of seriousness of those who wish to lead the Continent (and are poised to do so in no few countries). A major contention against the left is that it is naïve and unrealistic, even dreamy. But in today’s Europe, it is the populist right that is afflicted with these childhood ailments: disconnected from reality, delusionary, unpragmatic and fickle in its views. At times its leaders draw close to Russia and its president, Vladimir Putin, then it suddenly supports NATO. It views the European Union as the root of all evil but when in power happily accepts astronomical checks from it. This isn’t necessarily extremism, it’s populism that avoids responsible long-term solutions while fueling well-organized crusades against so-called corrupt elites.

This childish, look-the-other-way behavior is most blatant in the far right’s denial of the climate crisis, in the face of an absolute scientific consensus. For these parties and the leaders they spawned, the approaching consequences and the existential crisis that humanity is facing are akin to fairy tales, and they oppose almost all the measures being proposed to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

Riding an ostrich

But it’s not just global warming, the droughts or the rising sea levels. The populist right closes its eyes to the realities of the waves of immigration, the refugee crisis and the wars of the future. While the left and the conservative right suggest solutions – some better, some less so – the populist right believes that if it ignores the problem, it will simply go away. As far as it’s concerned, it’s possible to build a wall around the Continent and explain the world using a variety of alternative sources, from Fox News to “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.”

On the one hand, they are against taking in refugees, but they are also opposed to offering economic aid to the countries in Africa and the Middle East where the migrants come from. Similarly, it’s out of the question to invest in international institutions and conflict resolution. The flow of immigrants westward and northward, which could total tens of millions, will simply end by itself. It is sometimes said that cooperating with these far-right parties is like riding a tiger, but in reality it’s more like riding an ostrich.

The answer to the question of where all of this is leading, and whether the Europe of the future will be a conservative, insular continent that has regressed in regard to human rights, immigrant absorption and coping with the challenges facing humanity, actually rests with the left. Today, both in Europe and the United States, the left is adapting to its right-wing rivals. Populism is not an exclusively right-wing phenomenon; both sides are adept at deconstructing themselves and putting forward a garland of specific struggles that are divided according to race, sex, gender and age, instead of coming up with solutions that are intended for society as a whole.

Social Democratic parties still advocate traditional solutions such as crafting full-employment policies, strengthening trade unions, investing in welfare and providing public housing and a strong social safety net. But in some countries these parties have given way to the identity politics of the so-called radical left, or to the neoliberal policies of Social Democratic parties that have lost their way. For these kinds of parties, reality is no longer the political arena, it’s the endless chatter on TV and social media. In countries that have lost their traditional left, it’s hard to see who will right the ship that’s sailing toward the populist iceberg.

Predicting the future isn’t easy, but we don’t have to go back many years to remember what happens in Europe when the extreme fringes on the right and left fight for power while the moderates are preoccupied with internal wrangling. While all this is going on, the war in Ukraine is becoming an echo of the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s, which was the preview for World War II. As the cliché goes, history tends to repeat. The past year looks like the start of a process that may end with the ushering in of a new period – one whose guiding principle may very well once more be “never again.”