Stieg Larsson, My Friend - Kurdo Baksi [27]
But there are exceptions. There are some questions fundamental to our communal values where there can and must be no differences of opinion in a democratic society.
Among them is the struggle against racism, anti-Semitism and intolerance of minorities.
Anti-democratic and extreme movements that call into question our open society and the equal status of all human beings must be opposed by all means at our disposal. This is a battle we must fight together.
We party leaders represent different views and different values, which in combination represent an absolute majority of the Swedish people. We are all agreed on this. All people are of equal value, irrespective of skin colour, language, gender, religion, ethnic background or sexual orientation. This is the foundation on which the humanitarian and democratic principles of our society are based.
In the last analysis, we all have a moral responsibility to stand up and be counted in support of these values whenever and wherever they are called into question – to fight against injustice, to protect the rights of the individual and to make a contribution to mutual understanding between all people.
Tomorrow is 30 November – a date that has become something of an unofficial rallying day for Swedish racism. That is why we say today: We shall never submit to intolerance!
Göran Persson (Prime Minister, Social Democrats), Bo Lundgren (leader, Conservatives), Lars Leijonborg (leader, Liberals), Alf Svensson (leader, Christian Democrats), Lennart Daléus (leader, Centre Party), Gudrun Schyman (leader, Left Communists), Lotta Hedström (spokeswoman, Green Party), Kurdo Baksi (editor-in-chief, Svartvitt with Expo)
The “We shall never submit” appeal, published on 29 November, 2000, is probably the text Stieg Larsson was proudest of having written. When I first read it in the bar of the Amaranten Hotel, that much was obvious in my friend’s face. Although his name is not mentioned, he was responsible for every single word. My only contribution was to lobby various people with close links to the party leaders.
Stieg gave me a big hug when we met at the Amaranten. This was an unusually intimate gesture, occasioned by the fact that I had kept the promise I had made to him: to make sure that an appeal from all Swedish political party leaders would be published on that particular day in November by four national daily newspapers based in Stockholm, plus thirty or so regional newspapers.
The fact is that it was quite easy to convince the party leaders to sign, even if I think I spared Stieg the fact that the one who was hardest to get on board was the prime minister, Göran Persson. This surprised me, because Persson was the one with whom I had the best contacts. In the end it was thanks to Jenny Ohlsson, one of Persson’s assistants, that I managed to retain Stieg’s words more or less intact.
It was obvious how much this meant to Stieg. This was one of the most important moments in our friendship. Not just because of the success we had with the appeal, but also because it was the day we had one of our most heated quarrels.
The Amaranten bar was more or less empty, as usual. It suited us to meet there – it was quiet and relaxed, with luxurious if slightly grubby decor. Looking back, it is easy to conclude that a friendship without frank discussions is doomed in advance. Such a friendship can never progress beyond the polite and the conventional.
When we sat down in the bar, I had been angry with Stieg for quite some time. Perhaps it was our recent successes that gave me the courage to raise the matter. Ever since I had heard that one of the younger members of Expo’s staff had infiltrated some of the parties linked with neo-Nazism using a false name, I had been nagged by worry. Obviously I was concerned about the young man’s safety. But I was just as concerned that the media would attack Expo again. The journal would not be able to survive another collapse in subscriber numbers.
It had taken two years for Expo to repair the damage