Category Archives: Sweden

Is it ever right to deface art?

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Israel’s ambassador to Sweden triggered a major diplomatic row between the two countries this weekend when he disrupted an installation piece depicting a Palestian suicide bomber at the opening of a Stockholm exhibit related to an international conference on preventing genocide. PM Sharon defended his ambassador’s behavior and demanded the work be removed, while the Swedish government quite simply said it does not (and cannot) censor art. Though the spat is far from over, both sides are trying to come to an understanding so that Israel’s participation in the conference is not jeopardized.

The facts: The piece is called “Snow White and The Madness of Truth”. The artists are a couple — she Swedish, he born an Israeli Jew, now also Swedish. On the blood-red water of a museum courtyard pool floats a small raft upon which is affixed the image of a female Palestinian suicide bomber responsible for the deaths of 19 21 Israeli civilians last October. A text accompanies the piece, as well as a Bach cantata called “My heart swims in blood““My heart swims in blood since in God’s holy eyes, the multitude of my sins makes me a monster.”. Standing spotlights around the pool throw light on the installation piece, as it still gets dark early in Stockholm. It is one of these the ambassador threw into the pool, short-circuiting the installation — or which accidentally fell in after the ambassador unplugged the lights, depending on the nationality of the paper you read.

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Foto: Sven Nackstrand/AFP

The spin: Of course it is sometimes right to deface art… if the function of a piece is to incite violence in addition to being art. Propaganda art is the primary example that comes to mind. While I would not recommend that you try it, I would certainly applaud if you defaced Nazi propaganda posters during WWIII would not applaud if you defaced them in a museum today, however, because their power to incite violence has been superceded by their value as historical evidence.

But doesn’t defacing art also fall under the noble rubric of non-violent protest? If you find a piece supportive of a greatly offensive cause, should you not be able to justify damaging it as part of the greater political conversation the artwork is clearly part of, if you also are willing to face the legal consequences of your actions? Here I hesitate, already. Say yes, and you are on the verge of justifying the destruction of the giant Buddhas of Bamiyan that so terribly offended the Taliban. But there is a further reason to defend offensive art from defacement: You may be dead wrong about what it means.

Case in point is the furore caused by Chris Ofili’s Madonna adorned with dung, exhibited at the 1999 Sensation exhibit in NYC. A convent of Catholics took offense at the painting, and mayor Giuliani jumped on the bandwagon looking for votes. To westerners, items covered in shit are desecrated, but in the African tradition channeled by Ofili, dung consecrates.

This explanation did not mollify the outraged. Eventually, the fact that the art could be perceived as offensive by people unaware of its context was reason enough for some to justify its removal. Then there was the suspicion that Ofili was playing some kind of clever trick, using ambiguous symbolism to disguise an offensive aim with an innocuous cover story.

How analogous is the Snow White installation piece? Ofili did not aim to be ambiguous — his Madonna belonged to a long series of similarly themed pieces whose dung symbolism was well documented. Snow White seems more intentionally ambiguous, or else not successful in imparting a clear message, if that was the intent. Whose blood is in the pool? Israelis’? Palestinians’? Both? Does it matter when deciding whether the floating image of the suicide bomber is being consecrated, or desecrated, or both?

The name Snow White hints at innocence, but the lyrics of the cantata hint at guilt. The attached text intersperces similarly conflicting writing. The artists have told Ha’aretz the work condemns terrorism, but to whom do they ascribe the label terrorist? Is this artwork a case where we should suspect the ambiguous symbolism for the subversive message it might carry — specifically, suicide bombings are sometimes justifiable?

The other option is that the message is unintentially muddy because the art is bad. The offense, then, would come from the fact that the art could reasonably be interpreted as a justification for suicide bombings by those already leaning towards that conclusion. The intent may have been a plea for reconciliation, but the effect is one of justifying terrorism.

There is an additional consideration: As a mental exercise, try replacing the image of the suicide bomber with one of Mohammad AttaSwedes can replace her image with that of Mijailo Mijailovich, and then put themselves in the place of Anna Lindh’s husband for a similar effect.
Update 19.05 CET: Somebody beat me to the punch:
 
NYHETER-18s08-mijailo-91.jpg. Imagine him sailing smilingly atop a pool of the blood he’s shed. It offends, at a gut level, because we are not used to seeing his image (or that of Hitler, or a Swastika) depicted without a clear condemnatory context. If you are a family member of one of the victims, you may well feel outrage at having your pain be appropriated for the production of art that on a gut level appears to trivialize evil. In other words, it is in poor taste.

So: Does Snow White offend on account of its message? The Israeli Ambassador probably thought so. Is it in poor taste? I think so. Does this justify defacing it? Not by a long shot. But I do think the curator is a fool for letting such clumsy work through the door.

In fatta

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It’s linguistic deja vu all over again: After embarrassing episodes with mores and awry it now turns out I’ve been making arguments in Swedish all over the place using the Swedish term “in fatta” whenever I want to say “in fact”. But in fact it turns out “in fatta” is pure fiction on my part. I must have used it once, nobody complained, and it soon became a standard argumentative technique.
 
Which, again, leads to the question, what were people thinking I was saying? Problem is, there does not seem to be a exact conceptual translation into Swedish for this rethorical shortcut. OK, nu vet jag äntligen att “in fatta” inte betyder “in fact”. In fatta, det betyder ingenting på svenska, även om jag använde det varje dag tills Fredagskväll, då en vän frågade vad egentligen jag betydde.

Men jag tycker om att använda “in fact” på engelska, därför att jag vanligen argumenterar med en struktur som behöver ge specifika exemplar av en motsats. Nu har jag ingen översättning av detta mentala begrepp på svenska. “Faktum är?” “Egentligen?” Det verkar inte vara samma sak. Kan ni inte börja använda “in fatta”, för min skull?

Ingrid Thulin

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WildStrawberries.jpgA free rag on the subway to work this morning carried the news in a few grafs: Ingrid Thulin, who so memorably played Marianne, the melancholy daughter-in-law to Victor Sjöström’s Professor Isak Borg in Smultronstället (Wild Strawberries), had died. Despite the distractions of an overful rush-hour carriage, this piece of news triggered an introspective mood. That movie was a revelation to me. I try to watch it at least once a year (and recently more often, now that I understand what they are actually saying to each other).

Ingrid Thulin is perhaps less well known than the rest of the Swedish “rätt pack”, Bibi Andersson, Harriet Andersson and Liv Ullmann (and also Ingrid Bergman and Pernilla August — who am I forgetting?), but she was certainly their equal in every way. She may well have been Sweden’s best-ever actress.

Her death underscores the inevitable passing of a great era in Swedish film. Ingmar Bergman hasn’t left us yet; the wiley ol’ bastard is likely to outlive us all. But one day the greatest living director will die, so I sometimes entertain myself by asking who would replace him by default? Woody Allen for his early stuff? My only problem is that I forget who is alive and who dead, so I fear I am missing somebody obvious.

Then there is the separate question of who is the greatest working director today: I don’t feel either Bergman or Allen have had the lock on this category for a while. For this latter category, I nominate Ridley Scott, though with an audience (of one) award to Lukas Moodysson.

Mijailo Mijailovic confesses

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Mijailo Mijailovic confesses he murdered Anna Lindh. The specter of the botched Palme police investigation lifts; and with lots of false courage Aftonbladet finally names Mijailo Mijailovic, hitherto “the 25-year old.” It must have been his birthday sometime in December. He used to be “the 24-year old.”

Now, on to the motive. Was there a political component? Apparently not, according to Aftonbladet. Instead, it seems Sweden’s social services proved inadequate to the task of noticing and acting upon various clear signs Mijailovic was unstable and a threat to society. Whether these actions should have been more punitive or more caring, or both, will be an interesting debate.

Tvungen eller förbjuden

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In the wake of that digraceful ruling by the French, the debate concerning the acceptability of the muslim headscarf in Swedish schools heats up. Two opinion pieces in Sweden’s largest dailies are in favor of banning “the veil,” and I’m just doing my bit to make sure they do not go unchallenged.
 
I was pointed to statsvetare (“political science expert”) Lisbeth Lindeborg’s piece in Dagens Nyheter by new Swedish blogger Gudmundson. He also links to a Lisbeth Lindeborg pictorial in the Jan 1974 issue of Mayfair. Is it relevant to know that somebody who argues the Muslim headscarf demeans womens was once splayed across a British lad mag as “Sweden’s rising sex star”? Certainly.Nu börjar det i Sverige: Debatt om huruvida man ska förbjuda muslimska sjaletter i svenska skolor. DN har en debatt här, och Aftonbladet har en debattartikel här. Båda är emot slöjor i skolor, men argumenten är lika felaktiga som användandes i Frankrike.

Jag hoppas at vi kan vara överens att religionsfrihet är viktigt, och om man vill begränsa den, borde vi ha en ännu viktigare orsak. Men Lisbeth Lindeborg i DN påstår att förbjuda sjaletter utgör inte alls en begränsning, eftersom sjaletten/slöjan inte är en islamisk symbol. Kanske det enligt henne, och kanske det enligt många människor, men det betyder inte att det inte är symbol enligt dem som vill bär sjalett. Alltså tycker jag att det är Lindeborgs tolerans som är falsk, eftersom hon vill påtvinga andra sina religiösa åsikter.

Lindeborg erkänner att påtvinga religiösa åsikter är orätt, därför att hon skriver hur orätt slöjtvång är i Iran och Saudiarabien. Fundamentalisterna påstår att slöjtvång skyddar kvinnans värdighet. Lindeborg påstår att sjalettförbjud skyddar kvinnans värdighet. Jag påstår bara att båda slöjtvång och sjalettförbjud förnedrar kvinnor.

Och Lindeborg är inkorrekt när hon antyder att muslimska kvinnor bär slöja bara var man har slöjtvång:

Däremot är det en missuppfattning att tro att slöjtvång existerar i alla muslimska stater. Faktum är att de flesta muslimska kvinnor inte bär slöja, varken i Väst- och Nordafrika eller i Sydostasien.

Faktum är att flesta muslimska kvinnor som bär slöjan gör det utan slöjtvång. När jag reste några månaden i Pakistan bar många kvinnor sjaletter, utom dem kristna och dem Ismaili muslimer på Hunza dalen. I Indonesien bär fler och fler kvinnor slöjor, nu att dem få.

Intressant också är att Lindeborg inte försöker att skilja på de olika muslimska traditionerna rörande slöjor. Inte så många kvinnor bär den kompletta burka/purdah, som bekläder ansikten. Flera bär sjaletten som bekläder helt hår. Men flesta bär sjaletten som symbol, utan att det vore dölja hår. Linderborg försöker att förvirra begreppen. Jag har bara ett problem med kompletta burkar i svenska skolor, eftersom så är det omöjlig att kontrollera kvinnans identitet och att delta i skolklasser. Det är naturligtvist en begränsning av religionsfrihet, men jag tycker att det är viktigare att en kvinna få delta i svenska samhällan. Men det är också klart att bara bära sjaletten hindrar inte att delta. Inte alls.

Ayse Sungur i Aftonbladet är en bättre debattör. In fatta, jag tycker att hon argumenterar inte så mycket för sjalettförbjud men emot kvarvarande kristna traditioner i skolor. Men jag skulle fortfarande skilja mellan skolans/statens plikt att vara neutral, och människors rätt till religionsfrihet.

Vad vi behöver i Sverige och Europa inte är lagar som begränsar religionsfrihet av alla muslimska kvinnor, bara för att kunna skydda de några kvinnor som är tvungen att bär slöjan av släktingar. Vi behöver lagar som förbjuda att man få tvinga kvinnor att bär slöjan. Men vi redan har sån lagar. Vi måste använda dem bättre.

New Year's in Stockholm

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On New Year’s eve, while I am packing for an early move on Jan 1, my friend E— calls. Her Polish cleaner is all alone in Stockholm and wants to go see the traditional fireworks display at Skansen, but has nobody to go with. Would I go with her? “I’d rather not.”

My friend calls back 10 minutes later. Her voice is strained. “She really, really wants someone to go with her. She’s here with me now. Can she call you when she’s done working?” This brings out a measure of noblesse oblige in me. If I can stop this person from thinking suicidal thoughts on New Year’s eve just by taking her to Skansen, of course I will. Besides, I’ve never seen it myself. “She’s young and pretty and she speaks a little English,” assures E—.

Beata, we’ll name her, calls me. We agree to meet at Medborgarplatsen. It’s too early to go to Skansen, so I suggest we get a drink at Kvarnen. She appears shy, or maybe just quizzical? She’s not sure she’ll get into the bar. “Why not?” She’s only 19. But it’s too early for those rules, so we sit at the bar and I have some wine, while she has an orange juice, and the conversation begins, in halting English.

She is from Krakow. She has 4 brothers and a sister. She shares an apartment with 3 other Polish girls, all cleaners. They have the same boss, a Polish immigrant who hired them in Poland and is somewhat of a father-figure to them, having promised their parents to take good care of them. She works 6 days a week, 10-12 hours a day, in offices and in the homes of Swedes. She worked on Christmas and will work on New Year’s day. She goes to church on Sundays — there are 2 Polish churches in Stockholm. She doesn’t have a computer, internet access or even an email address, and neither do any of her friends — but they do SMS each other. She has no plans to go to university but she wants to have three children. And she likes to cook. Polish food.

She doesn’t like Swedes — they ignore her when she works for themBe nice to your cleaners, Swedes!. She does like Americans, however. The ones she works for, like my friend E—, talk to her like she is a normal person.

The next day, I will discuss this with E—’s husband, a Swede. He thinks the reason is twofold. First, Swedes are naturally more restrained. Second, domestic help is a relatively new phenomenon in Sweden, after having disappeared for half a century. Swedes will tend to see this kind of work as demeaning, goes his theory, and hence they will feel ashamed on behalf of the help. Americans, on the other hand, see an enterprising young Pole taking deft advantage of economic opportunities abroad and who is willing to work hard to make her dreams come true. And Beata does have a dream: With her savings, she wants to go to Italy next year, for the first time. She’s already taking Italian lessons at a language school here in Stockholm, in return for her cleaning services.

We walk all the way to Skansen. As we approach the gate, I ask her, offhand, what made her want to see this. After all, even Swedes think twice about spending hours outside in the bitter cold. “But you wanted to, E— said.” “No, you did, she said.” Two pennies drop. We’ve been trying to save each other’s soulsThe next day, E— comes clean, and all is forgiven. Nevertheless, I make a mental note to set her up with Henry Kissinger sometime.. The nerve! But it’s hard to be angry; Beata and I are having fun, and it is a typical E— thing to do. At midnight, under the fireworks, we share a bottle of champagne — all courtesy of a fortunate ruse. Later, she will be delivered home, chastely.

Julkommitté

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HELP. I’ve been volunteered to the Julkommitté, or Christmas committee, where I work: It’s my very first representative position at a Swedish institution, no less, and so far I’ve managed to avoid embarrassment by agreeing with most everything that is suggested. It’s shouldn’t be hard, really: We get a sum of money and have to spend it creatively on a Christmas party. This year, we’re going on a boat around the harbor.

But there has to be a theme, apparently, involving a quiz. You cannot have a julfest without theme and a quiz. Not ever having been to an organized julfest, I suggested Who-wants-to-be-a-millionaire-style multiple choice questions involving fun facts about Sweden, like: The percentage of foreign students in Sweden is a) 7.8% b) 14.3% c) 19.0% d) 40%.

This was met with jahas and the short sharp intakes of breath, both of which mean “not necessarily no, but certainly not yes.” So I really want to wow them for the next meeting, today, Tuesday at 3pm Stockholm time. Any ideas?

The Letter, part 3: Margaretha writes back

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[If you haven’t yet read The Letter, parts one and two, please do so first. This post won’t make any sense otherwise]

Margaretha wrote back this afternoon. I think it is time to take a backseat and let the story tell itself…

After our conversation my son absolutely wanted to have a look at the letter so we checked it out yesterday already. Today at work I told several colleagues and also my daughter. Everyone thinks it’s a great story and wants to hear more.
 
I grew up in Halmstad and had just graduated from high school in 1970, after which I found work at the Swedish Central bank in Stockholm. In the spring of 1970 I was going out with Bengt, who that year began his military service at P2, which was an armoured regiment in Hässleholm. Bengt came to visit me in Stockholm, but I had made new friends and so I broke up with him when he visited. I met Bengt one more time during the Christmas holidays that year, but since then we have not been in touch.
 
I don’t remember the letter, but it is correctly addressed to me so I could well have had it. In the autumn of that year I moved to Vasastan. The theory about the bookmark may well be right, but I do not remember the letter, alas.
 
In 1976 I married Rolf, with whom I have two children — Monika, who is 22 and studying to become a journalist, and Olof, 18 and in high school. We have lived most in Stockholm, but also some time in Luxembourg and Gothenburg. I work as an economist at a waste management firm called S—.Efter ditt samtal igår ville absolut min son titta på brevet så vi gick in redan igår. Idag har jag berättat om det för flera arbetskamrater och även för min dotter. Alla tycker det är en fantastisk historia och vill gärna höra mer.

Jag växte upp i Halmstad och hade tagit studenten 1970, därefter fick jag arbete på Sveriges Riksbank i Stockholm. Under våren-70 hade jag sällskap med Bengt som det året påbörjade sin militärtjänstgöring på P2 som var ett pansarförband i Hässleholm. Bengt besökte mig i Stockholm, men jag hade fått nya vänner och hade väldigt roligt så jag gjorde slut med Bengt vid hans besök. Jag träffade Bengt ytterligare en gång under julhelgen det året, men sedan har vi inte haft någon kontakt.

Jag minns inte brevet, men det var rätt adresserat så jag kan ha haft det. På hösten det året flyttade jag till Vasastan.

Teorin om bokmärke kan stämma men jag minns inte brevet, tyvärr.

1976 gifte jag mig med Rolf som jag fått två barn med Monika som är 22 år och utbildar sig till journalist och Olof som är 18 år och går på gymnasiet. Vi har bott mest i Stockholm, men även en tid i Luxemburg och i Göteborg. Jag arbetar som ekonom i ett företag i sopbranschen som heter S—.

Margareta, who signs her name without an h, goes on to mention that she’s found a Bengt M— (the letter didn’t contain his last name) living outside of Halmstad. And shall we contact him?

This story isn’t over yet, in other words.

The Letter, part 2: Finding Margaretha Lennerbring

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[If you haven’t yet read The Letter, an earlier post about a letter I found on a New York City sidewalk sent to a Swedish woman in 1970, please do so. The rest of this post won’t make any sense otherwise.] I don’t know why I didn’t follow my one big lead on this story until tonight; I’ve been meaning to, and were I a paid private detective all this would have been over months ago. Maybe I was afraid the lead would be a dead end; perhaps the mystery of the letter was something to savour before solving, much like one lets fine wine linger under the palate. Or perhaps my Swedish was just so godawful until now that I didn’t want to subject anyone to a cold-call of mine.

But tonight I did call Gunnar Lennerbring, the only Lennerbring I had found in the Swedish phonebook. After a few rings, a woman picked up. I couldn’t tell from her voice how old she was. I asked for Gunnar Lennerbring, and she immediately said Gunnar är död, Gunnar is dead.

What a start.

I knew that there is a phrase in Swedish for such moments, and I knew that I had forgotten it. So instead of saying Jag beklagar — I’m sorry (for your loss) — I stammered Ursäkta — excuse me. Dumb dumbMaybe I should have waited a few more months before finally calling.. I thought I should perhaps explain, before she slammed the phone down on my manners, that my Swedish wasn’t in fact that good, and that I was looking for a person called Margaretha, and that this phone number was my only lead.

Margaretha is my daughter, the woman said gently. She married. She lives in Stockholm. Her married name is I—. Would you like her number? Here it is…

Suddenly somewhat breathless, I now dial Margaretha’s number. A male voice picks up. Can I talk to Margaretha? The voice calls for his mom. And then I’m talking to her. Aware that all this might sound a bit bizarre, and nervous because of it, I begin telling the story of how I found a letter in New York four years ago mailed in 1970 to someone that I believe to be her.

I read out some of the letter’s place names. Do they sound familiar? She sounds noncommittal, though my ear is untrained in the various ways Swedes signal assent…and there are many ways of signalling assent: Å, Nja, Ja, Jo, Jaha, Just det, Kanske det, Visst, Klart, Möjlig, Säkert, silence… And then there are all the ways in which they don’t: Å, Nja, Jaha, Kanske det, Möjlig, silence…. Perhaps she is understandably wary of disclosing her personal history to a stranger bearing leading questions.

Not knowing how I’m coming through, I ask her if she has web access. She does, at work. Then she can see the letter online, just type Lennerbring into Google and it’s the only page that comes up… Does she know about Google? She asks, does her son know about Google? Yes, he does. I posted the letter there in my attempt to return it to the addressee, I say — and in a retreat to the tentative — if that is her.

But about that she is sure: She is the only Margaretha, maiden name Lennerbring, there isMargaretha should stay anonymous, I’ve decided, because while I’m fine with posting anonymous letters on the web, I am not, absent her permission, fine with posting personal letters on the web..

In that case, I say, perhaps she could look at the letter tomorrow, and then email me, so that I could arrange to meet her sometime and return it?

She will. She said so.

Sveriges utbildningspolitik

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Well, it’s a relief to write in English again — I think I just had my first case Swedish writer’s block. There isn’t really anything new in the post on the right — just the same old argument about which education system is more equitable — the free-for-all subsidized by taxes or the user-pays system — so I am not going to bother to translate it. It’s my weekly Swedish homework, and in an otherwise light blogging week this means a preponderance of posts in Swedish (!).
 
Blogging can be such a puerile pursuit at times, not unlike scratching somebody else’s itch to see if you get slapped. I admit the post on the right is a bit like that. But I am genuinely interested in hearing a defense of the current Swedish education policy, because at first blush it does seem to be rather unegalitarian: For example, only 13% of doctoral students are classified as “working class”, although 35% of the general population is. (Yes, they do have that classification.)
 
The best defense I’ve heard in favor of free university education is that Sweden, specifically, has a low wealth disparity, so by getting a degree here you are not really helping yourself so much as contributing to society. But I can think of a number of objections to that argument too. We’ll see if I have to muster them.Eftersom mitt första inlägg på svenska gick tillräckligt bra, åtminstone utan en massa avhopp, kommer ni att forceras läsa ett till. Det här är min läxa, förstås?

Idag funderade jag på Sveriges utbildningspolitik. En sak gillar jag mycket, en annan förstår jag inte. Vad jag gillar är att utländska studenter får studera gratis i Sverige på högskolor, även om de senare inte kommer att betala skatt (eftersom de måste åka tillbaka). Om studenter kommer från utvecklingsländer är det effektivt en bra sort bistånd, men: flest av de kommer infatta från rik Europa: 16.000 av en total 26,000 utländska studenter i Sverige kom från Europa i 2001, enligt OECD [XLS, 170kB]. Också bland Svenska högskolestudenter kommer en större andel från rikare familjer, enligt HSV. [PDF, 156kB, sidan 37] Men alla svenskar betalar skatt, också de som inte har studerat på högskolor, och därför inte får fiskala fördelarna. Helt enkelt, man kan säga att, netto, de fattiga svenskarna understödjer de rika svenskarna. Det är motsatsen av vad en progressiv skattepolitik bör vara.

Den här svenska utbildningspolitiken resulterar inte i mera högskolestudenter som procent av total befolkning än USA: 32% av svenskar mellan 25-64 år hade högskoleutbildning i 2001, mot 37% i USA, enligt HSV. [PDF, 300kB, sista sidan] Därför kan man inte argumentera att gratis utbildning främjar deltagandet. Skulle det inte vara jämlikare om studenter betalar för vad de använder, utom de fattigare svenskar, vem skulle ha stipendier?

(Om du har en plötslig längtan om att korrigera något här ovan, det får du.)