On a warm night last summer, strolling through Stockholm's central square, i stumbled upon a frightening sight. Ranks of black-dressed youths, some carrying flare torches, all with their right hands angled in the fascist salute, were massed in front of a statue of Charles XII, Sweden's 18th-century warrior king and a hero to Swedish far-right nationalists. Uniformed police formed an orderly barricade around them, keeping back a small group of protesting anti-fascists, and allowing the black shirts to celebrate their hero. I had heard about the rise of the extreme Right in Europe, now i seemed to have stumbled upon its ugly manifestation.
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