Christian Fernández (Malmö University)
Introduction
Last week, on the National Day (June 6th), the new and stricter rules for naturalisation to Swedish citizenship came into effect (Bill 2025/26:175; SFS 2026:447). The residence time increases from five to eight years for most migrants, and from four to five and seven years for stateless people and refugees, respectively. The new rules also introduce the first tests of language proficiency and civic knowledge in Swedish citizenship history, as well as stricter requirements of economic self-sufficiency and good character. Facilitated acquisition of citizenship via declaration is phased out, which means that migrants who came as minors and grew up in Sweden will have to naturalise the same way as other migrants (with the exception of stateless minors and Nordic nationals). The new rules come into effect retroactively, meaning that people with pending applications will have to meet the new criteria rather than those under which they applied. This move was opposed by a majority in Parliament, but it still passed due to a “voting coup” by the far-right Sweden Democrats.[1] The government is also trying to push through an amendment to the Swedish Instrument of Government (Constitution) to enable unilateral revocation of citizenship for naturalised migrants (with a second citizenship) in case of fraud, severe criminality, or threat to national security (SOU 2026:21). Since this amendment requires a change in the Constitution, which states that Swedish citizenship cannot be revoked for resident citizens (RF 1974, 2:7§), it requires two majority decisions in the Parliament with a general election in between. A first affirmative vote took place on May 20th, and a second is planned sometime after the election on 13 September 2026.
The new citizenship rules mark the definite end to Swedish exceptionalism in migration and integration policy. Since the turn of the century, most European countries have moved towards stricter and more selective immigration policies combined with tougher integration conditions for residence and citizenship (see e.g. Goodman 2014; Joppke 2007 and 2024). Contrary to this trend, Sweden maintained a much more liberal position defined by high admission volumes with a strong emphasis on humanitarian migrants (asylum and family reunification), low thresholds for permanent residence and citizenship, and voluntary and rights-based integration through the social welfare state (Borevi 2012; Emilsson 2018; Jensen et al 2017). This model of exceptionalism was animated by a win-win conception of migration: on the one hand, the moral value of international solidarity and multiculturalism; on the other hand, the economic and social benefits of immigration and diversity to Swedish society. This win-win conception of immigration enjoyed the support of all parties from left to right (except the Sweden Democrats) and functioned as a national, non-partisan model that shaped how immigration and integration politics were discussed and practised (Fernández 2019 and 2020).
Dismantling exceptionalism
The win-win conception of immigration is now “dead and buried” and replaced by a much more mainstream European position. Why did this happen and how? I believe it is helpful to view the death of Swedish exceptionalism as a three-phase process. The first one is the exogenous chock of the 2015 refugee crisis and the ensuing temporary restrictions (2015–2019). The reception of 10,000 asylum seekers per week (out of a population of 10 million) in the fall of 2015 was a stress test of Swedish hospitality. When the Swedish government finally closed the border and lowered its reception commitment to the EU minimum through the temporary asylum law (SFS 2016:752), it was presented as a painful but necessary time-out that would reduce the pressure on the Swedish Migration Agency, welfare institutions and other authorities. It was a forced but only temporary retreat from liberal openness to ensure fair and equal treatment of those inside the welfare state. More importantly, however, it was perceived as an implicit admission that volumes matter and that there is a trade-off between liberal openness and social equality. This was a crucial step towards more restrictive policies and a changing narrative.
The second phase is the consolidation of the mainstream European position on immigration (2019–2022), that is, a position that does not significantly deviate from the average immigration-integration policy of other member states. This includes the extension of the temporary asylum law in 2019 and its transformation into permanent law in 2021 (SFS 2021:765), thereby normalising a range of restrictions on asylum and family migration. It also brought novel proposals for tougher naturalisation requirements, including longer residence time, and language and civic knowledge requirements (SOU 2021:2). The consolidation phase also brought about a realignment of the party system as the right-wing (Moderates and Christian Democrats) for the first time agreed to cooperate with the Sweden Democrats, while the political centre eventually split in half. The defining socioeconomic cleavage of Swedish politics between labour and capital was pushed towards a sociocultural one between liberal openness and welfare chauvinism (see Fernández 2026, forthcoming).
The third and last phase is the establishment of a new narrative on immigration (2022– ). This phase begins when a right-wing government takes office in the fall of 2022. The government includes two conservative parties (Moderates and Christian Democrats) and one centre-right party (the Liberals), but it is fully dependent on the support of the Sweden Democrats (the largest party) to obtain a majority in Parliament. The deal made between these four parties, the so-called Tidö agreement, effectively means that the government adopts a right-wing populist migration agenda. The effect is a policy focused both on stricter requirements for entry, residence and citizenship as well as repatriation and deportation. While previous restrictions were motivated by the trade-off between liberal immigration laws and effective integration via the welfare state, the new narrative focuses much more on the alleged correlation between immigration, organised crime and national security.
Conclusion
To conclude this autopsy of Swedish exceptionalism, the citizenship rules that came into effect this Saturday are the result of a long trajectory of events and conditions that stretch back to 2015. The refugee crisis taught Swedish governments that burden sharing within the EU does not work, which means that asylum flows will concentrate in the most liberal member states. It taught a majority of the electorate that the win-win immigration narrative was false and that Sweden’s reception capacity is, after all, limited. These lessons, in turn, created incentives for the centre-right parties to pivot to the right, which eventually led to collaboration with the anti-immigrant Sweden Democrats. This movement away from exceptionalism has now come full circle. The tighter immigration controls were put in place to protect the welfare state and social inclusion. The new citizenship rules, however, are fuelled by a desire to exclude on the inside and to facilitate remigration. The result will be a conditional citizenship for naturalising migrants: tougher conditions on the way in and less safety on the inside. This effectively creates a two-tiered citizenship that separates natives from migrants and their descendants, a far cry from the universal egalitarianism that once defined the Swedish model.
[1] According to the so-called “pairing-off system” (Swe. “kvittningssystemet”), the MPs shall always respect the distribution of mandates between the parties, which means that uneven absences between opposition and majority should be evened out at the time of the vote. This informal rule required the Sweden Democrats to pull back a couple of MPs from the vote, which they did not do, as revealed after the fact. Since this is only an unwritten rule, there does not seem to be any viable legal action for the opposition, and the decision holds. The speaker summoned all the parties a few days later, but no agreement was reached, which, for the time being, compels all MPs to be present every time there is a vote in Parliament.