Even the most jingoistic of patriots must surely admit that they have, buried somewhere deep inside, an envy of Sweden.
Why? Well let’s briefly consider the facts. Number one: Swedes are, with a few exceptions – such as a certain former England coach – beautiful. As a native of Hull, where 20 is the new 40, I found going to Sweden a bit like leaving a city of ugly sisters and arriving to a nation of Cinderellas.
Number two: Swedes have a lot of space. Just nine million people live in a country bigger than Britain; there’s even a forest in the middle of Gothenburg. Number three: Sweden is safe. There are no gun-wielding gangs here.
The list could go on, but the point is that Sweden doesn’t do bad connotations. However, is there a hidden dark side to the country; are there any blemishes to this seemingly pure profile?
Well, if there is one thing that could tentatively be perceived as a negative, then it is a lack of freedom, which may seem slightly paradoxical in one of Europe’s most left-leaning countries. After Denmark, Sweden has the second highest tax burden in the world with the average citizen yielding 50% of their earnings; meanwhile a third of the workforce is employed by the government.
You’ll struggle to find a better education and health care system in Europe, but imagine taking home only half of what you earn. So Sweden is not the place to get filthy rich, but, walking down the wide boulevards of Gothenburg, you can see the effect that all of that government money has.
The city drips efficiency, from its perfectly symmetrical buildings to its rigorously clean pavements. Trams trundle earnestly by; they are the main form of transport around the city centre, and there are about as many cars as you might expect to see in London if an authoritarian Green party were to dethrone Boris.
A stroll through one of the city’s many parks in the evening is interrupted by an encounter with two yellow-uniformed women, revealing that Gothenburg has volunteers to patrol some of the shadier areas of the city, a policy aimed at deterring trouble-making youths. If they decide that you are not out to meddle, they send on your way with a hug and a lollipop.
With the soundtrack of a culture festival filling the city’s streets with music, I felt that Gothenburg is trying to achieve that most difficult of balances, a sense of community and cosmopolitanism.
Just an hour from the centre of Gothenburg and you can be gazing out across mountains, lakes and fjords. Not that there is the need to ‘escape’ from the stresses of Swedish urban life, because there don’t appear to be any.
The strength of Swedish socialism seems to spread to all corners. Even in the back-alleys, there is not a beggar to be seen, while the city centre has subsidized housing for young people.
And what of the nightlife? Sweden has great music, including, pleasingly, a sizeable amount of cheese; and it has beautiful people, so there’s your answer.
Despite the fact that so far, this article might as well be a PR release from the Swedish tourism board, intuition does raise reservations. Maybe the cause of this unease is that geographically and politically, Sweden is far from being central. One young Swedish woman echoed this feeling, telling me that she was moving to England because she wanted ‘to be closer to where everything happens’.
Perhaps it’s that it all seems too Stepford Wives-esque, and that the powerful influence of the state lingers in the air. It’s not that there is an invasion into the privacy of people’s lives – this is no Orwellian state – it just all seems a little too perfect.
Or maybe it’s just that familiarity and fondness for Britain’s idiosyncrasies obscure the objectivity necessary to write on the subject.
But if there were Oscars for states, then there’s no doubt that Sweden would be a perennial nominee for ‘Best Country’. I’d hoped that it would disprove its enviable stereotype, and would reveal something unexpected. I’d hoped, slightly sadistically, to find something wrong with it. I didn’t.
Perhaps though, therein lies its weakness. There is a lot wrong with Britain, but hardship inspires creativity and the anger that is often necessary to achieve. Somehow this Scandinavian country seems sterile by comparison.
Sweden is a bit like the house of a middle-class family, looked after by a prim housewife. Everything sparkles, you can see your reflection on the kitchen work-surface, nothing is untidy.
Yet this perceived perfection is unnerving. Reassuring sights, such as a book left out of place or spilt coffee on the kitchen table – something that might make it feel more homely – are absent. What a ridiculous analogy, you might say – and of course ten days in a country is not long enough to fairly judge it – but somehow Sweden has got it so right that there seems to be little left to fight for; indeed describing it is a bit like describing someone as ‘nice’.
So, Sweden: objectively ten out of ten, but personally, the rough edges of Britain remain more appealing.
Chambers: The Running Man
It seems harder now than ever before to find sporting role models. The tabloids consistently feed on stories of sportsmen brought low by sex, drugs, and corruption. Over the summer, however, Britain finally found sporting heroes whose commitment and talent could not be questioned; the Olympics in Beijing excited the whole country and bolstered its national pride.
Yet Britain’s Olympic results could have been even better. Whilst Team GB was failing to make any real impact on the track, one of the best sprinters of our times was sitting at home watching on TV. Dwain Chambers was banned from the Olympics after failing a drug test in 2003. Since then, he has come to symbolise the problem of drug-related cheating in athletics. Not many have shown sympathy to the sprinter from Islington. Not only has he suffered the frustration of being unable to fulfil his Olympic dreams, he has become a focal point of the war against drugs in sport.
Nevertheless, there are many arguments in support of Chambers that have gone unheard, and whilst he does not claim innocence, he does have a point to prove and a story to tell. This was, he says, one of the main reasons why he came to the Oxford Union last Thursday.
‘No matter what I say about the rules, I failed to comply with them’
“I want to give people an insight into my life and hopefully put on a good show,” Chambers declares. He appears nervous but excited as I meet with him shortly before he will address the Union. Though he strolls in with the arrogant swagger we associate with many international sprinters, he speaks in a calm and humble manner, admitting to finding public speaking far more nerve-wracking than the sport he knows best.
“This is the unknown. During the 100 metres I feel in control. But I’m nervous because I have been invited to a place I never thought I would visit. This is the great Oxford Union. So many famous and important people have spoken in this building. I feel honoured to have been asked to speak.”
When confronted with the inevitable question about his drug ban, Chambers trots out his standard answer. Though he has uttered this same response countless times over the last few years, his words do not lack passion. “No matter what I say about the rules, I failed to fully comply by them. The rules were already in place before I chose to go down that road. Ultimately it ended my Olympic dream.” With his agent hovering alongside, Chambers is quick to add a plug. “All my opinions can be found in my forthcoming book.”
It is hard to deny Chambers’ wish to offer his side of the story. “At the moment people have only been fed information by the press and haven’t heard my point of view. Hence why I am doing an evening like tonight, to try and sway people’s perception about me and to try and get them to know me for who I am, and to make them understand I am normal like everybody else.”
‘Drugs don’t work, use me as a reference point’
Chambers becomes increasingly roused when asked to offer any advice for aspiring athletes who contemplate the use of steroids or other drugs. “For one, they don’t work. Use me as a reference point. Believe in your own heart that you can go out and achieve. Once you start believing someone else’s dream you are going to go and ruin your career. If you’re born with a talent and the ability to go out and compete, then you can achieve any goal you want to.”
There have been comparisons drawn between Chambers’ case and that of 400m runner Christine Ohuruogu. She missed three drug tests, and was banned from competing for one year. Yet her Olympic ban was overturned, and she came back from Beijing with a gold medal. Chambers seems genuinley happy for Ohuruogu, who has gone through a similar experience to him. But there is still an underlying anger. He can still picture himself with a gold medal round his neck.
“A part of wishes it was me, but at the same time, mine and Christine’s situaton are different. I was caught taking drugs, but her situation was different and we must give her the benefit of the doubt. A strong part of me still feels that the courts should have given me a second chance as well, because that’s what Christine was given. She was given a second chance, and she was able to go on to become World and olympic champion. But I don’t have any disagreements with her. I see her all the time on the track, and im very happy for her.”
Although Chambers claims that he has come to terms with his punishment and wants only to look ahead, the scars remain unhealed and unconcealed. In the course of a relatively short conversation, he reveals a deep self-contradiction.
‘If I had gone to the Olympics, I would have finished second or third’
He expresses his frustration at missing out on his ‘Olympic dream’, but he also seems to be attempting to convince himself that the continuation of the ban can be seen in a positive light. “This was Usain Bolt’s time. I believe it was his time. In some respects I’m kind of glad. I didn’t want to bring my issues to Beijing. One part of me is happy I didn’t go. Yes, I would have loved to compete, but I’m also glad I’m doing what I’m doing now, so I can change people’s perception of me by going out there and giving them an insight into my life.” Chambers nods as if he has persuaded himself, if not anybody else in the room.
“I firmly believe, that if I had gone to the Olympics, I would have finished second or third. There’s no way I would have run 9.69, but could I have run 9.89? There’s a strong possibility. But that opportunity has passed, and now I look to the future and next year’s world championship.”
If Chambers can achieve success in the sprinting world over the next few years, it will be an impressive feat for a man that has suffered so much criticism. And what about the London games in 2012? “I’ll be there in some capacity. I won’t be competing. But whatever happens, I will be there supporting.”