Readers who follow Scandinavian affairs (and Scandinavians themselves) are familiar with Julia Caesar, an accomplished Swedish journalist who writes a “Sunday Chronicle” every week at Snaphanen. A couple of her translated pieces were published here at Gates of Vienna several years ago.
Ms. Caesar writes under a pseudonym for a good reason: she lives in Sweden. The Swedish political-media establishment tolerates no dissent, and does its best to make the life of a dissident into a living hell.
On Sunday Ms. Caesar revealed that her identity and “undisclosed location” had been discovered by a pair of Swedish journalists, who have been hounding her for a year with the implied threat of exposure if she would not talk to them. The situation came to a head during the month of August, prompting the writer to take unusual and courageous action: Rather than wait for her tormentors to publicly expose her, she exposed them in her weekly column.
The two scribblers responded to her essay by revealing her name and publishing her photo in a major Swedish newspaper. Swedish “journalists” are a vile, contemptible bunch.
Below is an article about what happened that was published by Motpol.nu, followed by a translation of Julia Caesar’s most recent “Sunday Chronicle”. Liberty DK did all the translating, and provides an introduction to the second piece, earning our heartfelt gratitude as a result.
The article by Daniel Friberg:
Desperation: About Expressen‘s Latest Transgression
Daniel Friberg September 2nd 2015
Just when you thought Expressen couldn’t sink any lower, they manage to do so anyway. The public exposure of a retired 70-year-old with heart disease (with name and picture), Julia Caesar, was a new low.
It was Annika Hamrud at Expressen who was the first to step over the press’ ethical threshold before any of her colleagues. Most likely it will garner a pat on the shoulder from Thomas Mattsson and promote her short-lived career at the rapidly-dying afternoon newspaper.
As I wrote in “The Conservatives are back”, the Swedish Left (especially the media left) are getting increasingly desperate. People are tired of dishonest propaganda, and their campaigning doesn’t fool anyone anymore. The contempt for politicians and criticism of immigration are increasing in intensity at an almost exponential rate. Newspaper death is a fact. The Left’s answer to this by screwing up the volume and committing all manner of moral violations seems not to be working — the trend of public opinion is clear.
They seem finally to have realized that, and currently it seems mostly about pure malice and destructiveness. It is as if they are saying, “OK, our glory days are over, we’re living on borrowed time, all of our media is dying, but let us at least be as nasty and devilish and destroy as much as we can — while we still can.”
This is what we see today, with the tasteless disclosure of the identity of an opinion maker who has good reason to remain anonymous, from the same newspaper that does its utmost to conceal rapists’ and murderers’ ethnic identities, not to mention the reasons underlying their crimes.
Julia Caesar, I want to tell you that we are here for you. While you might think that we are unpleasant at times and that we do not always agree with your opinions, you have our full support. If you need any help in this difficult time, we will be there. Whether it’s financial assistance, assistance in arranging safer housing now that the press has sicced their hate-mob on you, or anything else, please let us know. We’re not quite resource-poor, and to help seniors who have become victims of the sadism of the Swedish press is a matter of decency.
To Annika Hamrud and Expressen, I have nothing to say to you at all. Your time is past and you will soon be completely irrelevant. Do not feed the trolls, as they say.
Introduction: The public lynching of a critical voice
by Liberty DK
Sweden’s public “media” today
The Stasi-like ugly face of Swedish politically correct media showed itself today in full bloom with the public lynching of a well-known and respected journalist, Julia Caesar (pseudonym).
A Swedish journalist, Julia Caesar, an elderly pensioner of frail health, has in recent years written about a hundred articles critical of the state of Sweden and its slide into chaos. She is, in this writer’s view, one of the most honest, insightful and clear-headed journalists today. Her essays about Swedish politics, political correctness and Sweden’s’ insane out-of-control immigration policy have earned her a loyal readership. She has been, and remains, a very important voice of dissent in the politically correct deranged country of Sweden and her articles are read by the hundreds of thousands. She writes under a pseudonym because, as she explains in the article to follow, her life, and her family’s life would be in danger were she to publish under her real name.
In the following article, published this past Saturday in the Danish website Snaphanen, Julia Caesar wrote the an account of the unscrupulous depths Swedish media will go to in order to silence dissent. It is truly frightening.
There are people who have assumed to themselves the right to utterly shatter my safe haven and make my life a living hell. I am hunted by people, emissaries of a large media group who want to silence me. They want to stop me writing by harassing and molesting me, scaring me and by making my life as unbearable as possible.
In relation to this story, the online publication Avpixlat writes the following under the headline “Swedish media now a parody of itself”:
In Sweden, we have other kinds of punishment than death sentences for the “wrong” views. Precisely as said by the economist Tino Sanandaji on American television, this instead takes place in the form of social stigmatization and branding – thus expressing critical views about Europe and the world’s most extreme and destructive immigration policy – backed by a small and utterly reality-resistant bubble in Stockholm’s inner city, and that has never taken its journalistic mission seriously – becomes an absolute necessity.
Update: This article was, just today the 2nd of September, countered by an article written by Annika Hamrud, one of the journalists who had stalked Julia. Hamrud’s contempt for Julia shines through in her article where she publishes both the name and the photo of the woman behind the pseudonym, thereby willfully and deliberately putting Julia’s life in danger.
Sunday Chronicle: The Nightmare
by Julia Caesar
You turn onto a small forest road and drive about 100 meters. Here you will find a house, embraced by a forest of tall pines and spruce. The house is small with a small garden plot on the front where the trees have already shed their leaves, and the flowers now lie dying in a persistent drought. This is the small house in which I live. The cottage lies in a very remote area. This is my oasis. Almost nobody makes it out here. It is far away also from friends and family. Here I can work in peace and quiet. That is to say: here I thought I could work in peace and quiet.
Peace and quiet turn into a nightmare
But the peacefulness that I need has now turned into a nightmare. There are people who have assumed to themselves the right to utterly shatter my safe haven and make my life a living hell. I am hunted by people, emissaries of a large media group who want to silence me. They want to stop me writing by harassing and molesting me, scaring me and by making my life as unbearable as possible.
The persecution has been going on for a year. I have reached my limit now and I will not put up with it anymore. This is my story about what the media and my colleagues are capable of doing in their attempt to silence this inconvenient writer. Today’s Stasi is where you least expect it. Seek and ye shall find. Or be pursued and see the truth about the “free and independent” press.
I write under a pseudonym to protect my children and grandchildren
When I begin writing columns for Snaphanen in the spring of 2010 I do so only after very careful consideration. It is a choice that is in conflict with my life-long journalistic rule — a rule I have had my entire professional life — the rule that says that you should stand up for what you write under your own name.
I choose, however, to write under a pseudonym. I agonized over the decision, but I know the forces which are moving in the outside world. I have to protect my children and grandchildren. Those who are most dear to me.
We have a very unusual name. We are the only ones in this country with our name. This makes us terribly vulnerable in a world where all data is open and available on the net. My grandchildren are still young. If anything should happen to them, or to my children, I would never forgive myself.
For me, freedom of expression is sacred
My second reason for writing under a pseudonym is my knowledge of what Islamic extremists and violent groups such as AFA and Revolutionary Front are capable of. Admittedly I am old, but I would love to keep my head a few more years.
Would I have made the same choice in 2010 if I had known what I now know, here, five years later? Would I have written “World Champions”, “More Ministers Should Cry,” “The Land That Disappeared”? Would I have written 200 political chronicles? (This is the 201st).
The answer is yes. For me, freedom of expression is sacred. It is enshrined in the Swedish constitution, and I am prepared to die for it. Democracy stands or falls with freedom of expression. A silenced people are a people who have surrendered. The more frustrated I get with how much my colleagues omit, hide and lie about to their readers / listeners / viewers, the more determined I become to tell you what they omit.
“They are like pre-programmed zombies”
Marcus Birro describes journalists brilliantly in the following text for “Det Goda Samhället”:
“They see themselves and the newspapers they work for as wholly irreplaceable pillars of democracy, and as their very own sandboxes where no differently minded ‘devil’ will get much space.”
They do everything in groups. They’re pre-programmed zombies that go where everyone else goes. They hate and love within the group. They think like everyone else. They despise what their colleagues despise. Those who should be the guarantors and advocates of democracy have become a completely separate small elite that are terrified of what they vowed to uncover and describe; namely the truth.”
Marcus Birro is not a journalist; he is an outsider who just has a very clear perception of the journalistic community. With decades of experience in the media, I can only agree.
When did journalists start the war against their own people?
How did this happen? When did journalists start to betray their mandate to investigate power, and instead fuse with political power? When did they crawl up as lapdogs onto the knees of those in power? When did journalists start to betray, deceive, defraud and launch the war on their own people?
When I started working as a journalist in the late 1960s, it was different. When did it go wrong? When did the journalists become power players on the politicians’ side of the court? When did they begin looking to people in power? The question gnaws at me incessantly, but I have a hard time finding an answer. Was it in the 1980s or ’90s? I know many retired journalists who feel just as I do, completely alienated from today’s journalism. We do not understand what is going on, we hate it and we are constantly angry about it. Sometimes we say to each other that we are happy that we are so old that we’re going to die soon. The country we were born in, lived in and worked in no longer exists.
Annika Hamrud wants my contact details
The first thing that happens is that one of my friends — let me call her B — is called by the freelance journalist Annika Hamrud. Hamrud has, through research on B’s old workplace, found out that B and I are good friends. She wants my contact information. B refuses, of course, to disclose this to her. It is August 27th, 2014. B was very surprised by the call.
Annika Hamrud tells B that she was with another person (“we”) and had gone out to the suburb where I live and knocked on my apartment door. I was not at home. I then find out that she had later been around asking my neighbors about me.
I do not know Annika Hamrud
On August 30, Annika Hamrud sends an SMS to my friend B:
“I never received any response from XX (me). This complicates things, unfortunately.”
I do not know Annika Hamrud. I have never had any contact with her. I do not understand what she wants from me. Online you can see that she has previously worked at Dagens Nyheter, but is now a freelance journalist. She is also an LGBT activist and has, together with her wife Elizabeth Qvarford, published a book about the Sweden Democrats at the queer publisher “Normal”.
Half a year goes by before I again hear from Annika Hamrud.
I receive a visit from Niklas Orrenius the day before the parliamentary elections
Saturday September 13th, 2014. The day before the election. The weather is good. The air is crystal clear as it only can be in September. I have taken a swim in the ocean every day so far, but today I have to work. It is 15:55. I had just enjoyed an afternoon coffee break outside in the sunshine and then sit in the cabin writing a chronicle that I need to deliver a few hours later.
Suddenly there’s a knock on the door. I think it’s a friend, and open the door. Standing there, just outside in my garden is the DN (Dagens Nyheter) journalist Niklas Orrenius and a photographer. Both give me wide ingratiating smiles.
“Are you XX?” asks Orrenius.
“My name is Niklas Orrenius.”
“Yes, I recognize you,” I say.
I’ve seen his picture in the newspaper.
The threshold for trespassing is the threshold
He asks me if I have time to talk. I say no, and shut the door. I am so shocked that I forget to remove the key from the lock. They could just turn it and enter into the house. They do not. They are probably well aware that the limit to trespassing stops at the doorstep of another person’s private residence.
Instead, they stand outside, still on the stairs, banging on the door, loudly shouting my name. Again and again. It seems like an eternity. I hide inside the house trying to breathe. My body is all jittery.
“I have not made a decision to write anything”
Finally it is quiet. I understand that they have gone. But I do not dare go out. I sit motionless, shocked and shaking all over. My body goes into automatic red alert; I get a substantial adrenaline reaction from the heart and adrenals and run to the bathroom and pee every five minutes for several hours.
Only after nightfall, do I muster the courage to go outside. There I see that Niklas Orrenius has left a note on the windshield of my car. The message reads:
I need to talk to you. Call me 0703-78 10 73.
“PS. I have not yet made a decision to write anything — I wanted to talk to you first”
Why would I contact Niklas Orrenius? I just want to be left in peace.
Hamrud and Orrenius have uncovered my identity
Niklas Orrenius and Annika Hamrud have, in each their way, or together, managed to uncover my identity. Otherwise they would not have found my residential address and then the address of my vacation home.
Have they, like Niklas Orrenius ‘former employers’ Expressen, collaborated with the criminally suspect organization Research Group, which specializes in putting together a register of “dissidents” and revealing their identities?
Why is DN persecuting me? What is their motive?
Clearly the “serious” morning paper Dagens Nyheter intends to sell its “goodies” for the tabloid newspapers Expressen and Aftonbladet’s hideous and politically motivated exposé of private individuals.
When Jim Olsson asked Expressen go to hell
Through collaboration with the Research Group, Expressen would, without conscience, expose and scandalize individual “net-haters” in November and December 2013, including the retired associate professor of physical chemistry, Jim Olsson, from Västra Frölunda. He told them to go to hell.
Expressen’s abortive home visits became a viral success available on YouTube. The campaign was a fiasco. People’s anger washed over Expressen’s gangster tactics in mighty waves.
A fast-track career as agenda-journalist
Who is Niklas Orrenius?
He is 41 years old and has made a rapid career as an agenda journalist. From Östgöta correspondent and Värnpliktsnytt via Sydsvenskan in 1997 to a year at Expressen from 2012-2013.
During his year at Expressen he distinguished himself with the so-called “iron pipe scandal”, the story of how Sweden Democrats’ Erik Almqvist, Kent Ekeroth and Christian Westling, after a pub crawl in Stockholm in June 2010, acted as the immature drunk puppies they were. The story would have a long life in Swedish journalistic mythology, and would countless times be used as a weapon against the Sweden Democrats.
Big game for Peter Wolodarski
This type of coup was “big game” for Dagens Nyheter’s new editor Peter Wolodarski. He acted with lightning speed after he was appointed chief editor and brought over Niklas Orrenius from Expressen in March 2013. Wolodarski declared that he intended to drive agenda journalism at Dagens Nyheter. Niklas Orrenius would be the tool to do this. In a chat with readers, 11th of March, 2013 Wolodarski wrote:
“It’s not good if you feel that quality decreases. I want people to feel the opposite of that. The recruitment of Niklas Orrenius — perhaps Sweden’s best reportage writer — is part of that ambition.”
I have written about Niklas Orrenius in two columns: “Agenda journalists” and “Niklas Orrenius ‘anguish’”.
Double homicide nothing to get hung-up about
Peter Wolodarski’s agenda journalism has recently manifested itself, amongst other things, immediately after the knife murder of Carol Herlin, 55, and her son Emil Herlin, 28, at Ikea in Västerås, 10th of August by trumpeting out the following headlines on DN’s website:
“Fear at the (asylum)center after knife attack”
“Despite everything — deadly violence has decreased. Sweden has become safer”
“Suspected Ikea killer mortally wounded”
The double murder was not really so frightening. Nothing to get uptight about. Sweden has become safer. A typical example of biased and dishonest journalism.
“Freezer box” cost 30 million
John Nesser at the newspaper “Journalist” published a shocking report about the twelve DN journalists who, in an appalling fashion, were placed in the so-called “freezer box” at the newspaper. They were taken off all editorial e-mail groups, their logins to the journalistic work programs disappeared, they were denied access to the editorial system and they got no assignments for two weeks. The aim was to push them to terminate their employment themselves.
The “freezer box” is purported to have cost DN 30 million kr. During the Almedalen Week in Visby in July. Peter Wolodarski is seen to escape, as if in panic, from John Nesser’s questions about DN-journalists in the freezer box.
Cost what it may
As an employee at the Daily News, Niklas Orrenius’ privileges go far beyond that granted other DN journalists. He gets to stay in his hometown, Malmö, and only needs to fly up to Stockholm editorial meetings once a week. But he hardly has such privilege that he himself personally can take responsibility for travel expenses for tens of thousands of crowns in order to chase me in the wilderness.
The order to hunt me comes presumably from Peter Wolodarski himself. To him, I am prey to be hauled in for public execution. Cost what it may. It’s still just pennies compared to the 30 million used on the “freezer”. Niklas Orrenius and Annika Hamrud are Wolodarski’s broadcast henchmen and their mission is to deliver the prey.
An application for protection of data is rejected
After Orrenius’ house call, I’m worried. My security is in tatters. I hardly dare go out. Concerns about my children’s’ and my own safety do not give me peace. I apply for protected personal information with the tax authorities. The application is rejected, because I have not been physically beaten. The police and the officer at the Swedish Tax Agency explain that Chapter 22. §1 of the Official Secrets Act applies mainly to women who are abused by their partners or former partners and are in need of protection concerning personal information and safe accommodation.
The legislation is lagging behind. It does not apply to me or any other of Sweden’s’ dissidents who are hunted, defamed, persecuted, hung out to dry, harassed, molested and abused. Legislators have not foreseen a social climate where an old woman who lives alone in a small house in the woods is being hunted in her own home by journalists and photographers from the country’s largest daily newspaper. You have to be able to exhibit a physically broken and beaten body in order to receive help.
Abroad, I need not be afraid
On the 8th of October 2014, I receive, to my amazement, an e-mail from Niklas Orrenius. He has managed to dig out my email address. I am, at this time, abroad and feel for the first time — in a long time — free. I can breathe. I can relax and don’t need to be afraid. It’s a great feeling.
“You did not have time when I knocked at your home. I’m curious about you and want to meet and talk. I’ve read your book. I would like to hear from you!
I do not answer. I have nothing to say to him. I choose those with whom I wish to have contact.
The neighbors write down the license plate
I’m abroad again, trying to heal and work when I receive the report of a third home visit. Annika Hamrud and Niklas Orrenius seem to have made up a timetable between themselves. The reports come from my neighbors.
It’s Saturday, February 21st, and my neighbors in the building where I have my apartment notice a big van, a dark blue VW Multivan, parked outside the house for several hours. The neighbors think that the incident is strange and write down the license plate number.
In the car sits a dark-haired man with a beard and a camera and a light-haired woman in her 50s. The woman’s appearance is, according to the neighbors, sloppy with half-long unkempt hair, baggy jeans and a light-colored jacket.
They watch my door for three hours
When an 80-year-old neighbor comes out of the gate, a woman quickly jumps out of the vehicle, walks up to her and asks:
“Is your name XX?”
The neighbor is not called XX, so she answers no.
The woman then makes a sweeping gesture toward the house and asks, “Does somebody named XX live there?” Another ‘no’ from the neighbor. She thinks that the woman’s behavior is disturbing.
For three hours, apart from the odd coffee break, Annika Hamrud and a photographer guard my door from the van. Then they go up to the door and ring the doorbell, long and persistently. The photographer with camera at the ready. Given that I am several hundred miles away from there, it is wasted time. But Annika Hamrud does not know this.
The neighbors start to suspect that I am dealing drugs
After three hours of surveilling my door the van drives away. The visit has attracted much attention among my neighbors on the block. Old people live there, and they are disturbed and troubled by the visit. Their suspicions have been aroused.
They begin to suspect that there is something fishy going on with the quiet woman whom they have had as a neighbor a couple of decades and sometimes talked to. Perhaps I am in fact a criminal who deals drugs or something else nefarious? They start to look away when I meet them.
I buy flowers for them; I try to explain that I am being persecuted without knowing why. But how can they understand? If one is being persecuted, then one must surely have committed a crime?
“That’s when you feel like a journalist”
None of my neighbors own a computer. The Internet is an unknown world to them.
Well, one of them has a computer. She recognizes Annika Hamrud from photos online, and from the last visit. Thanks to my neighbors who have recorded the license plate, I can, with the help of the police, obtain the name of the owner of the car. He is a photographer and lives in Kungsholmen in Stockholm.
On twitter Annika Hamrud writes the same day:
“Out on reportage the second day in a row. That’s when you feel like a journalist.”
The fourth visit — the worst so far
A few months go by. I’m starting to feel a bit more relaxed. But things are about to get worse. The fourth unannounced home visit takes place on Monday, August 24th and will be the worst so far. I’m in the cottage in the woods. The day before, I had published a chronicle containing sharp criticism both against the Löfven [Social Democrat] government and its toothless opposition.
It is quarter past three in the afternoon. I am sitting talking with a friend on Skype when I hear a knock on the door. I have by now learned to always keep the door locked and the key on the inside. I always have to be on my guard. The car is always locked.
Through a crack in the kitchen window, I see an unknown man on the stairs, equipped with a camera with a long lens. I understand immediately what it’s about. I go back to my chair and continue to talk to my friend. I do not intend to open the door and let in the uninvited visitors.
He stands there and tries to stare me down
The little house is one story and it has windows on all sides. The room where I sit has no curtains. There is nowhere I can hide. I am totally unprotected from onlookers.
The man with the camera puts himself close to a large window facing straight toward the place where I sit. He stands at approx. 2-3 meters and stares angrily at me. He stares for a long time. Later I’ll give his description to the police: He is blond, slightly above medium height; he has recognizable, fashionable dark framed glasses and is wearing a light t-shirt that reads “Malmö”.
He stands outside the window and gesturing and screaming
When I see his T-shirt, I understand that he is not alone. He and Niklas Orrenius are together. I understand that the two have traveled from Malmö during the day with the intention of paying me yet another unwanted house call. The fourth.
The photographer comes back to the window again and again and stands and stares straight at me. His eyes are extremely aggressive. He is clearly frustrated and angry at not succeeding in intimidating me. Again and again, he gestures at me to open the door.
Then also Niklas Orrenius stands at the window, gesticulating and shouting. I’m trying to continue the conversation with my friend, who is as shocked as I am over what is happening. She knows that I am hunted and now she gets to experience it first hand, online. The two men stand and stare, gesticulating and shouting outside the window for about 30 minutes. When they give up it is 15.45.
I sit there and my whole body is shaking
I’m sitting there in the chair, shaking all over. I am in shock. I am very grateful that my friend is still on Skype and that I have her to talk to in my distressed state.
I feel terribly vulnerable and defenseless. I’m alone. No neighbors. I am a woman. I am 70 years old and have multiple disabilities. I am on medication for cardiovascular disease and a bunch of other diseases. The house has been made handicapped-accessible in order for me to live there.
Everything is torn and sullied
When I can move again I draw the few curtains available. I sit in darkness and don’t even dare light a lamp. I’m afraid to go out. My thoughts run in panicked circles: at least I have enough food at home to last me a week if I have to live trapped in the house.
Not until that night do I dare venture out, gently. All is quiet in the garden. As if after a siege. My house feels sullied, my garden is besmirched, my terrace is besmirched, my door and my windows are tainted. Everything that is my home and my safety, has been torn apart by intruders. Again.
At night I lie sleepless.
Niklas Orrenius just wants to tell me what he is thinking
When I come out I find a note on the stairs which reads:
“I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU WHAT I THINK. I’M CURIOUS ABOUT YOU — YOUR THOUGHTS INTEREST ME!
AND YOU CAN REALLY WRITE.
“Am in XX now.
0703-78 10 73
He has put my pruning shears on top of the note. He has sullied my shears.
If Niklas Orrenius “just wants to tell me how he thinks” — why does he have a photographer with him? And what makes him think that I want to know what he thinks?
Police report and preliminary hearing
The following day, August 25, I call the police and file a complaint for harassment. The police officer I speak to asks if I am prepared to let the matter go to prosecution if the prosecutor considers it reasonable. I answer yes.
Another day later I get a call from a police officer who does a preliminary hearing of my complaint. What has happened? What have I seen and heard? I answer the questions. Both police officers are very friendly and professional. They let me understand that they consider what I have experienced very serious. Despite the fact that it is just my security and peace of mind that is broken, not my body.
I have reached my limit. Enough is enough.
I am taking great risks in writing this text. Dagens Nyheter has the power to go all the way to ruin both my and my family’s lives. With their actions thus far, Peter Wolodarski and his lackeys have shown that they will stop at nothing to harm me and therefore my children.
But I have reached a limit. Enough is enough. I will not put up with this anymore. I, and the people I hold dearest, have the right to live our lives in peace and security.
Use freedom of expression — or it will be taken from us
I use my civic right to express myself. More people should do it. If we do not use the freedom of expression it will be taken from us.
If in doubt — read PO [Press Ombudsman] Ola Sigvard’s horrific DN article about the conditional freedom: “A society in which everything may be published will be a very unpleasant society to live in.”
I do the work my colleagues s*** on
I am engaged in socially critical journalism. I do the journalistic work that my younger and healthier colleagues ought to do, but which they disdainfully s*** on. Journalism’s task is to scrutinize those in power and how they use that power. In the time that I yet have available to me I scrutinize the power of two worlds that have fused together into a single world of media and politics. Unlike my colleagues in the old media, I work on a voluntary basis, without a penny in compensation.
I have not committed any crime. My record is as white as Snow White’s prom dress. The only thing I’ve managed to accumulate is one measly parking ticket in 52 years of driving.
It is we who are the people
This is how repression of freedom of expression looks like in Sweden in 2015. This is the Stasi in Swedish. DDR Schweden. A totalitarian exercise of power against the individual in her own home.
Things cannot continue in this manner. Without freedom of speech Sweden will disappear as a democracy. It is we who are the people. Freedom of speech belongs to us. We’ll let our voices be heard, loud and clear. Until the politicians listen. Politicians are working on our behalf — not their own.
DN pursues one of its own former employees
I will now tell you the strangest part of the story. I worked as a journalist at Dagens Nyheter for more than 20 years. I quit in 1992, as I suffered from a chronic illness, and have not had any contact with the newspaper since then.
Peter Wolodarski is therefore persecuting one of the paper’s own, long-term former employees. That is how he looks upon freedom of expression.
There is only one thing I wonder about. How much deeper is Wolodarski prepared to bury himself in the dungheap in the privy of morality, in order to reach his goal?
How much further are he, Annika Hamrud and Niklas Orrenius willing to humiliate themselves and Sweden’s largest morning newspaper?
Dagens Nyheter (“Today’s News”).
The liberal flagship.
By Julia Caesar