NEWS CHRONICLE • It started as an ordinary workday in Kista. A walk through the mall, a few conversations with shop owners, observations of the small details of everyday life. But beneath the surface, something gripped me. A feeling of standing in my own country – and at the same time not. What was supposed to be a reportage became a reminder of how quickly a society can change when identity dissolves, language falls silent, and politics loses touch with the people it is meant to serve.
After the visit and the report on Kista mall and center, a few thoughts have lingered in me, as if they refuse to leave my body. These are reflections that lie beneath the surface of what we see: about national identity, about language as a common supporting beam – and about what happens when that beam cracks.
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But also about something even deeper: colonialism, ownership of a country, and the need for a common cultural space for people to live together without society falling apart.
The perhaps strongest impression from my day-long walk was when two school classes came walking through the center. Small children, 8-9 years old. Maybe 40, 50 students in total. Not a single child with a Swedish background. Several girls wore hijabs, their small hands adjusting the scarf while they laughed and pushed each other.
And I thought of my own daughters at the same age, how they stood in front of the mirror and fought with their hair, how important it was, how it was a part of their childhood, their identity. It struck me then with full force: this is no longer Sweden. Not even in its most generous, most inclusive interpretation.
I have traveled a lot in the world. I have lived abroad for almost 16 years. I am used to being the only one speaking Swedish, used to stepping into environments where nothing resembles what I come from. But I have never felt that feeling in Sweden. Until now. Until in Kista.
Kista as a warning reflection
And in that very moment, where the children’s laughter bounced between the glass facades of the shops, I realized that the debate that has been going on for decades – the one about Swedish culture, Swedish identity, Swedish self-image – was never innocent. It was never an intellectual game or just an opinion. It was a project. A conscious ideological direction.
It is a colonialism where one tells a people that their country is not theirs. That their heritage does not exist. That they are interchangeable. That their culture is a construction. That their resistance is racism. That their concern is fascism. That their love for their country is something ugly.
Jonas Andersson
I remember all the years of cultural debate, written and staged by the left that dominated our media and institutions. They said: Sweden has no culture. Swedishness does not exist. Everything is equally Swedish. Everyone is Swedish. At the same time as they demonized anything that even smelled of national community.
Who does not remember Annie Lööf on SVT, when she almost religiously proclaimed that everyone is welcome here, that everyone speaks Swedish (!), and that it would be good for Sweden – for the companies – if 30-40 million people from Africa and the Middle East moved here. Here. To a northern country with barely ten million inhabitants, on an area where our civilization has been shaped for over a thousand years.
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Or Jimmie Åkesson’s simple but brilliant question to Åsa Romson in the parliament: “If I take the subway in Tokyo – am I Japanese then?“
There, in that moment, the whole lie was exposed. The whole ideological construction. But the lie continued to be repeated, in universities, in schools, in the media, in the value base plans of authorities, in theater plays and children’s programs. A totalitarian discourse, where the nation-state was depicted as a threat and Swedish culture as a shame.
But there is one word that few have dared to use: colonialism.
Not colonialism in the old sense – European empires conquering the world – but a new kind of colonialism, directed inwards. Where the own people are deprived of their history, their continuity, their language, and their governance of the land. Where elites, activists, and :censored:6:cdd6bbaa89:ists reshape the country from above, without a mandate from the people, and where the population is expected to accept that their cultural home is transformed into something they never voted for, never asked for, and never even openly discussed.
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It is a colonialism where one tells a people that their country is not theirs. That their heritage does not exist. That they are interchangeable. That their culture is a construction. That their resistance is racism. That their concern is fascism. That their love for their country is something ugly.
The propaganda that took away our Swedishness
In this project, the left has joined forces with both Islamism and the :censored:6:cdd6bbaa89:ists who benefit from the dissolution of nation-states. And in this void, where no one is allowed to talk about Swedishness anymore, stronger identities emerge. The identity of Islamism. The identity of clan culture. The identity of segregation. The groups that know exactly who they are – and what they want.
And in this massive distortion, where both language and identity have been worn away, Sweden now stands at a crossroads. An existential crossroads. For democracy requires a common language. A common frame of reference. A sense that we are a “we”. Without that, there is no democracy, only interest groups, parallel societies, clans, and conflicts.
Jonas Andersson
During my time as a lecturer at Konstfack, I saw how this work was openly ongoing. How application folders with “Swedish-sounding boy names” were removed before they were even assessed. I protested. I lost. The left-wing feminists, already dominant, directed the institution towards political conformity and artistic impoverishment. But more importantly: they ensured that Swedish culture was reduced to something one should be ashamed of.
I have seen how Swedish flagpoles are bent in submission and displayed as triumphant artworks in Sergels torg. How Swedish boys are humiliated, how Swedish girls are called “Swedish whores” by young men from the Islamist cultures of the Middle East. I have seen how Swedish children are taught that they lack heritage, that their history is deficient, that their security is a privilege they should be ashamed of.
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We should be ashamed. We should submit. We should forget that we are a people. We should forget that we have a country.
That’s how it has sounded, day in and day out, for decades. And how many people in the world would have withstood that kind of psychological attack? How many would have resisted such propaganda?
What remains when the elite tears down the nation’s foundation?
Swedes do not vote for their own downfall because they are stupid. They do it because they have never heard the truth. They do it because the media – those who were supposed to scrutinize power – became the voice of power. They became filters, gatekeepers, propagandists. SVT. BBC. DN. Public service across the entire Western world. For two decades, these institutions have erased the description of reality and replaced it with an ideological narrative where Swedes and Europeans in general are the villains, never victims, never even people in their own history.
And in this massive distortion, where both language and identity have been worn away, Sweden now stands at a crossroads. An existential crossroads. For democracy requires a common language. A common frame of reference. A sense that we are a “we”. Without that, there is no democracy, only interest groups, parallel societies, clans, and conflicts.
Kista is not the cause. Kista is the symptom. A premonition. A possible future, if nothing changes.
And maybe that’s why my heart beat so hard as I stood in the square in Kista. Because I saw Sweden, not as it was, not as it was promised, but as it is now on the verge of becoming. A country drifting away from its own people. A country that is losing itself.
But it does not have to end that way. Not if we dare to see what is actually happening. Not if we reclaim the language, the self-image, the history. Not if we stop being ashamed of the one thing you should never be ashamed of: your home.
For those who do not have a country – have nothing to leave to their children.
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