I was born and raised in Sweden, a country once defined by safety, prosperity and a strong social fabric.
When I emigrated to New Zealand 20 years ago, Sweden was still a place where trust in institutions was strong, crime was rare, and children could walk to school without fear.
But today, the country I once knew feels unfamiliar. Rising violence has reshaped daily life, and I can no longer imagine moving back or raising my children there permanently.
For decades, Sweden pursued policies that prioritised social inclusion, a generous welfare state, and a rehabilitative approach to crime.
These policies were rooted in the idea that with enough support, individuals would be steered away from criminal activity. However, as Sweden experienced significant demographic changes and economic disparities grew, challenges emerged.
The country took in a large number of asylum seekers, particularly during the 2015 refugee crisis, but struggled with integration. In some areas, social cohesion weakened and crime networks took hold.
Over the past decade, gang-related violence has surged, with shootings, bombings and organised crime spreading beyond major cities into suburban areas. Sweden saw 391 shootings in 2022 alone, with 62 fatalities, a record-high figure for a country with a population of just over 10 million.
The situation has deteriorated to the point where Sweden now has the second-highest gun-related homicide rate per capita in Europe, behind only Albania.
While violent crime in many European nations has declined, Sweden’s gun violence has escalated dramatically. The Swedish justice system, long focused on rehabilitation, has been criticised for being too lenient, allowing violent criminals to return to the streets too quickly.
By the time the current centre-right government, led by Swedish Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson, took office in late 2022, violent crime had reached unprecedented levels.
The government introduced stricter sentencing laws, increased police funding, and even proposed military assistance for law enforcement.
However, reversing long-term trends is not easy, and violent crime remains a major issue. In 2024, Sweden saw around 300 shootings, resulting in 44 deaths, with over 30 bombings in January 2025 alone, primarily linked to gang extortion.
While enhanced surveillance and policing have led to a decline in shootings, violent crime remains a persistent issue, with authorities acknowledging fully rooting out gang violence could take a decade.
The tragic mass shooting at Campus Risbergska in Orebro on February 4, 2025 once again highlighted Sweden’s ongoing challenges with gun violence.
A 35-year-old gunman, previously unknown to authorities, entered the school and opened fire, killing 11 people and seriously injuring several others, before taking his own life.
Kristersson called it “the worst mass shooting in Sweden’s history”, a statement that underscores how deeply shocking and unprecedented such violence is for the country.
While the attack was not gang-related, it occurred in Sweden where violence – once rare – has become an increasingly frequent part of life.
At the same time, Sweden’s escalating crime crisis has created a political vacuum, one that has allowed radical right-wing ideology to flourish.
The far-right Sweden Democrats, once dismissed as a fringe party, have grown into a major political force, securing over 20% of the vote in the last election.
Their rise is directly linked to public anxiety over crime and immigration. As Swedes have become increasingly disillusioned with traditional parties’ ability to manage law and order, hard-line nationalist rhetoric has gained traction.
This shift has profound implications. While the government has taken steps to address crime, the political discourse has become more polarised, with growing resentment between different communities.
Policies that once emphasised social cohesion are being replaced with tougher stances on immigration and criminal justice. Critics argue the focus on punitive measures ignores deeper systemic issues, such as economic inequality and social integration.
Meanwhile, far-right groups, emboldened by political legitimacy, have pushed narratives that frame immigrants as the root cause of Sweden’s problems, further deepening divisions within society.
For those still living in Sweden, there is hope that a combination of stronger law enforcement and social reforms can restore safety. But for those of us who left, it’s difficult to watch a country once admired for its stability now grappling with rising crime and political extremism.
Sweden remains a place I care about deeply, but it is no longer a place where I would choose to live. The challenge now is whether Sweden’s leaders can implement effective solutions that balance safety with the country’s democratic values before more lives are lost.
