'They poison the population': Swedish Muslims challenge the far right ahead of the election

'They poison the population': Swedish Muslims challenge the far right ahead of the election

Near one of Scandinavia’s largest shopping malls, Kashif Virk stood on the sidewalk, handing out flyers and smiling at passersby. On a cloudy Tuesday afternoon, the Swedish-born imam took to the street to invite people to ask him anything they wanted to know about Islam.

For years, Sweden’s far right has spread its own distorted view of Islam, portraying it as incompatible with Swedish values. The Ask-a-Muslim campaign, or Fråga en Muslim, which Virk created in 2017, was his way of pushing back.

With help from dozens of volunteers in the Ahmadi Muslim community, the campaign has visited more than 150 farmers markets, squares, and city centers, inviting strangers to start a conversation in the hope of dispelling myths and shedding light on Islam.

“We have some radical parties and people are genuinely afraid about Islam,” Virk said. “Sometimes people get very rude. But most people in Sweden are lovely, friendly, and interested – they want to learn more.”

View image in fullscreenThe team at Mahmood mosque in Malmö. Photograph: Emma Larsson/The Guardian

Ahead of Sweden’s general election on Sunday, polls show the center-left opposition has a narrow lead, suggesting that the right-wing minority-run coalition supported by the far-right Sweden Democrats could be ousted.

Such a result would not only be significant for the Scandinavian country; it could also reassure mainstream voters across Europe that far-right forces such as the Sweden Democrats or Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) – triumphant after its best showing in a state election last weekend – are not inevitably on the rise.

But even so, the Swedish polls have narrowed slightly in recent weeks, making many nervous, particularly as the right-leaning ruling coalition has for the first time said it would offer ministerial posts to the far right if it wins. Those who have borne the brunt of the far right’s time propping up the government worry that Sweden, long held up as a leading light when it comes to equality and freedom, may have been irrevocably changed, regardless of what happens on Sunday.

“It’s a kind of Pandora’s box that has been opened,” said Munir Niazi, who has long worked with Virk on the Ask-a-Muslim campaign.

During the government of center-right prime minister Ulf Kristersson, the far-right Sweden Democrats have used their leverage to steer policies on migration and crime, seizing on the spotlight to spread rhetoric linking the two and scapegoating migrants, Muslims, and other minorities for all that ails the country.

View image in fullscreenMunir Niazi, who also works on the Ask-a-Muslim campaign, with Virk (right) at the mosque. Photograph: Emma Larsson/The Guardian

The result had shifted Sweden’s national conversation to the right, said Niazi. “In the past four years, the biggest opposition party, the Social Democrats, have slowly adopted and even voted with the right wing on migration, on crime. In the near future, at least, we don’t see the country going back to the policies of the 80s and 90s.”

Virk nodded in agreement. “We see, unfortunately, that everybody plays the anti-Islam card when they need it.”

The repercussions have been felt widely. Last year, a gunman killed 10 people in the Swedish city of Örebro, most of whom had an immigrant background. Across Sweden, mosques have regularly been vandalised and in 2023 the country grappled with a spate of protests in which copies of the Qur’an were burned or otherwise damaged.

Speaking to commuters in Malmö making their way through Hyllie station, many said the politics had started to feel deeply personal, as though their existence in Sweden was a political battleground.

“When the far right talk about my religion and my hijab, it feels like they’re talking about an animal,” said one nurse, 46, who asked not to be named.

View image in fullscreenIn 2023 the country grappled with protests where copies of the Qur’an were burned or otherwise damaged. Photograph: Jonas Gratzer/Getty Images

Originally from Lebanon, she settled in Sweden in 1999. “Older people in the hospital say that I and other immigrants helped build Sweden – why doesn’t the far right see that?”

Sitting in a nearby park, Onyango, 42, said the atmosphere in Sweden had become “horrible” for migrants as the far right’s influence steadily grew. “I feel like they poison the population,” he said. “They’ve created an environment where if you’re not a Swede, you are scared.”

The hostile rhetoric, along with government efforts to tighten migration rules, had led the Kenyan national to devise a backup plan, despite nine years in the country and a good job in supply chains. “You start thinking maybe I need to have an apartment in Kenya and set aside some money, just in case,” he said.

Sitting next to him, his friend Waithira, 30, nodded in agreement. “Before, you wanted to invest here, buy an apartment here, start a business. But now you start thinking twice,” she said. “We don’t know what the future holds, but it’s a bit less attractive than before.”

In the southern part of Stockholm’s Södermalm district, Jonna Mannberg and Isaac Kuehnle-Nelson recalled how in 2015, about 1,700 people from across the country spontaneously showed up at the city’s central station, eager to welcome and help settle Syrian and Afghan asylum seekers as they arrived.

In the 11 years since, the initiative, formalised into Refugees Welcome Stockholm, had unwittingly become a symbol of the changes sweeping Sweden. “We’ve gone from being an organisation at the forefront of public political dialogue in Sweden to being a smaller organisation where our funding and ability to reach out have shrunk significantly,” said Kuehnle-Nelson.

They had watched as policy stances once reserved for the far right became mainstream, from cutting refugee quotas from 5,000 to 900 people a year, to allowing residency permits to be revoked over the vaguely defined criteria of “bad behaviour”.

“In 2015, people were met with open arms. We had the prime minister say: ‘My Europe doesn’t build walls,’” said Mannberg. “But the harsh reality is that we still have the same people that we were dealing with in 2015. We’re still with them in 2026 and they have not received legal status yet.”

View image in fullscreen

The far-right Sweden Democrats have leverage in the Swedish parliament since their support is needed by the ruling coalition. Photograph: Tom Little/Reuters

The psychological toll was laid bare during a recent programming course for young, undocumented asylum seekers. “There were days when many were unable to attend because they couldn’t get out of bed,” she said. “To have physically healthy, 20-year-old guys who have been so pushed down by life that they were unable to leave their beds, unable to see any future for themselves, that’s a really hard thing.”

Among those caught up in the crackdown on asylum seekers was an undocumented 14-year-old who, despite being born in Sweden, was facing deportation to Armenia, along with his single-parent mother and his younger brother. “It’s like hell. I’ve been here my whole life,” he told the Guardian. “I feel Swedish.”

His parents had come to Sweden as political asylum claimants, but their separation resulted in the claim becoming mired in bureaucracy. While there had been a visa category that might have given the family another chance of continuing the lives they had built in Sweden, it was scrapped recently by the rightwing government.

InInstead, the order hangs over them, casting a shadow on the life of a child who once sang in a church choir and dreamed of becoming a civil engineer in Sweden. “It feels awful,” he said, noting that he had never been to Armenia, did not speak the language, and was terrified of being forced to serve in its military.

The changes to immigration policy, including new rules that block most asylum seekers from getting permanent residency, show how the far right’s role as power-brokers has transformed Sweden’s political conversation, said journalist Bilan Osman.

“There are many proposals in Swedish politics today that we couldn’t have imagined 10 years ago,” she said, pointing to the tens of thousands of euros offered to migrants to return home as an example. “People would have said: ‘You’re crazy.’ Now it’s like: ‘Let’s talk about it.'”

Osman had spent years studying right-wing extremism, tracking the movement as it built its own media outlets to reach new audiences. What emerged was a steady normalization of their rhetoric, blaming migrants and minorities for Sweden’s social and economic problems, while the effects of the country’s soaring inequality were largely ignored.

The resulting rhetoric had pushed some to the margins, reshaping Sweden into a place where some belonged and others were made to feel they did not. This was a significant shift that would likely have lasting consequences, she said, pointing to Swedish Muslims, who make up an estimated 8% of the population, as an example.

“I think we’re at a breaking point in Sweden right now, where the main question is: ‘Is there a future for Muslims in this country?'” said Osman. “If we keep having these kinds of discussions, I think many Muslims will feel there is no future here. And that’s sad.”

Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs based on the topic of Swedish Muslims challenging the far right ahead of the election

What is this news story about
Its about Swedish Muslims organizing and speaking out against farright political parties before a national election The phrase They poison the population refers to the rhetoric those parties use against immigrants and Muslims

Who are the far right in Sweden
The main farright party is the Sweden Democrats They have a history of antiimmigrant and antiMuslim views Other smaller farright groups also exist

Why do Swedish Muslims feel targeted
Farright parties often blame Muslims for social problems crime and cultural changes They use slogans like They poison the population to suggest Muslims are a threat to Swedish society

What does They poison the population mean
Its a slogan used by some farright groups to claim that Muslim immigrants are poisoning Swedish culture and society Its a dehumanizing metaphor that Muslims find offensive and dangerous

How are Swedish Muslims challenging the far right
They are organizing protests holding community meetings using social media and encouraging people to vote for parties that support immigrant rights Some are also running for local office

Are all Swedish Muslims against the far right
Most are but not all Some Muslims vote for rightwing parties for other reasons However the far rights antiMuslim rhetoric makes many feel unwelcome

What are the main concerns of Swedish Muslims before the election
Rising hate crimes against Muslims
Discrimination in jobs and housing
Politicians using Islamophobia to win votes
Feeling unsafe in public spaces

What are some common problems Swedish Muslims face
Verbal and physical attacks
Being stopped by police more often
Difficulty finding jobs because of their names or hijabs
Negative media stereotypes

What can nonMuslim Swedes do to help
Speak up when you hear Islamophobia
Vote for parties that support equality
Learn about Islam and Muslim communities
Support Muslimled organizations

What are some practical tips for Muslims facing hate speech
Dont engage with trolls online
Report hate crimes to police
Document incidents
Find support in community groups
Stay