These women are close friends of mine and deserve a gold medal and honorable place in our history books for their courage, not fists and eggs in the head. This is where it has come to in Sweden: Police let violent demonstrators get close to defenseless women promoting the right to speak against Islam. People who wanted to get in to Geert Wilders’ lecture in infamous MalmÃ¸ had to go through an “anti-fascist” purgatory:
Katrine Winkel Holm, Kit Louise Strand, her friend Trine and I arrive by taxi to Kockums Fritid. The Swedish police has placed barricades, so we can not drive to the door and have to walk the last 200 meters. We can hear the protesters shouting the usual slogans: “No racists in our streets”. There are lots of police, but instead of separating the angry demonstrators from the entrance, they stood in the periphery, so we have to go through the crowd to get in to the meeting. Within no time things go wrong: Some Swedes begin to shouting directly into the face of Katrine: “racist”, “Pork Denmark”, “Go home, we want to border control for you”. To me they cried “Fat fascist pig”.
Katrine starts to argue with them, but it’s completely futile, and soon I pull her arm and told her that she should cut it, so we can get through the crowd and inside the lecture hall.
Things go very quickly: Katrine and I are suddenly isolated from Kit and Trine, and I’m surrounded by AFA (anti fascists). Or – I think it’s AFA: Danish men in their twenties, with black hoodies and small ugly tattoos on their shirts. They are extremely threatening – not just in attitude (which is furious, hateful – and just waiting to be allowed to beat), but also physically: I am completely surrounded by 4-5 men who not only block my way, but one also punches me hard with his shoulder, so I’m getting off balance. Then I feel a blow to the back of my head, and then one more – this time less hard, which turns out to be an egg.
The Swedish police – who could not see the details since I was surrounded – did nothing to help me or let me pass, even though I had egg running down my neck. Finally Katrine managed to convince the police to help me get into Kockums.
Later, when we went out to see whether the police had finally made a corridor, so that people could get in without having to run the purgatory, eggs were thrown at us, and the police asked us to go back because we ‘provoked’ with our presence.
After the meeting, there was a Swedish journalist who asked me if I had acted provoking before having eggs thrown at me (sic).
Nobody was arrested.