Suchergebnisse

Sverigedemokraterna är emot invandring och vill repatriera stora grupper. I partiets världsbild är det öppna, demokratiska samhället ett hot mot nationen och gemenskapen. Kravet på homogenitet överensstämmer med föreställningen om den illiberala demokratin, och grundas i en intolerant nationalism och ett motstånd mot främmande kulturer. I Den farliga mångfalden om Sverigedemokraternas världsbild analyserar Håkan Holmberg den samhälls- och människosyn partiet står för. Det blir tydligt att det är viktigare än någonsin att försvara mänskliga fri- och rättigheter, fria medier, fri forskning och oberoende rättsskipning. Omistliga delar i det demokratiska samhället. Med förord av Ingvar Carlsson och Bengt Westerberg samt efterord av författaren Elisabeth Åsbrink

This is a study of why a group of farmers in Swedish Ostrobothnia chose to sympathise with the Lapua Movement in the summer of 1930. The Lapua Movement, a right-wing movement, emerged in Lapua in Southern Ostrobothnia in November 1929. Initially, the only expressed aim of the movement was to achieve total prohibition of communism in the country through efficient legislation. The movement wanted Parliament to establish laws that banned all organised communist activities and propaganda and that limited communists' possibilities to enter candidates in public elections. In addition, the movement wanted expanded authority for the nation's President to, when needed, put a stop to organisations that were considered a threat to national security. The Lapua Movement used extra-parliamentary means of agitation to carry through their demands. The movement's biggest manifesto against communism was to become the so called Peasants' March (Sw. Bondetåget) to Helsinki on July 7, 1930.

It is well known that Sweden once had a state institute for racial biology, as well as that extensive racial research was conducted in Sweden during the first decades of the 20th century. But what actually happened to Swedish race research after the 1930s - did it just disappear? In The science that disappeared? historian Martin Ericsson conducts the first systematic survey of Swedish race research from the mid-1930s to the early 1970s. It is a story of a racial science that survived the horrors of World War II and endured longer than we might like to believe as criticism grew in the post-war period. And about the Norwegian Institute for Racial Biology, which was never shut down, but lived on in a different form and under a different name. Ericsson shows that there was not a single Swedish racial research tradition, but two. One was based on the first director of the Institute of Racial Biology, Herman Lundborg, and had clear connections to Nazism and other extreme right-wing movements. The second can be said to be based on Lundborg's successor Gunnar Dahlberg and was instead anti-Nazi and in some cases even anti-racist. But both traditions agreed that there were different human races and that it made sense to try to measure differences between them. By following the Swedish race research until the end of the 20th century, the book also raises important questions about our own time and its interest in ""origin"" and ""descent"". How fundamentally different are today's dna analyzes from the old racial research traditions? What if we risk asking the same questions as 1930s racial biology stuck with new techniques?

It is well known that Sweden once had a state institute for racial biology, as well as that extensive racial research was conducted in Sweden during the first decades of the 20th century. But what actually happened to Swedish race research after the 1930s - did it just disappear?
In The science that disappeared? historian Martin Ericsson conducts the first systematic survey of Swedish race research from the mid-1930s to the early 1970s. It is a story of a racial science that survived the horrors of World War II and endured longer than we might like to believe as criticism grew in the post-war period. And about the Norwegian Institute for Racial Biology, which was never shut down, but lived on in a different form and under a different name.
Ericsson shows that there was not a single Swedish racial research tradition, but two. One was based on the first director of the Institute of Racial Biology, Herman Lundborg, and had clear connections to Nazism and other extreme right-wing movements. The second can be said to be based on Lundborg's successor Gunnar Dahlberg and was instead anti-Nazi and in some cases even anti-racist. But both traditions agreed that there were different human races and that it made sense to try to measure differences between them.
By following the Swedish race research until the end of the 20th century, the book also raises important questions about our own time and its interest in ""origin"" and ""descent"". How fundamentally different are today's dna analyzes from the old racial research traditions? What if we risk asking the same questions as 1930s racial biology stuck with new techniques?