‘The Whole Thing Falls Apart’

From where Johnny Grahn sits, Sweden is already helping too much.

A bus driver by profession, he occupies a seat on the Filipstad government council, representing the Sweden Democrats. His face tightens at mention of the refugees. As he describes it, they have overwhelmed the community.

The mosque established in the former home of a prominent Swedish conservative intellectual, Sven Stolpe, rudely awakens neighbors with the call to prayer, Mr. Grahn complains. Local housing complexes are full of foreigners, he says, while preschools have been “inundated” with refugee children.

But the greatest indignity is the impact on the local budget, Mr. Grahn says.

People are waiting weeks to see dentists. The council recently cut a popular activity coordinator at a local senior center. At the same time, the local government’s welfare payments have soared over the past decade from 6 million kronor (about $632,00) to 29 million (more than $3 million).

To Mr. Grahn and his allies in the Sweden Democrat party, the takeaway is obvious: Refugees are absorbing an outsize share of resources, leaving less money for everyone else.

“The services that you pay taxes for have been reduced drastically,” he says. “There is almost a collapse in the system. When there are so many people arriving who don’t work, the whole thing falls apart.”

In fact, public dismay over cuts to government programs is an old story in Sweden, one that long predates the recent influx of refugees.