Have Seen This Before - Smoke and Mirrors
- Chavia Ali

- 3 days ago
- 5 min read
There is something about this Swedish election campaign that has been troubling me.
On a daily basis, politicians and political parties are openly pitting one group of the people against another, along racial, religious, ethnic, or generational lines. Some see this a trend towards “polarisation”, but the underlying assumptions are far from trivial. It is simply not true that if you support women, you must hate men. High food prices in the supermarket are not caused by refugees or people with disabilities.
Human rights and international law, including universal voting rights and freedom of expression, function precisely because they apply to everyone. This is the very foundation of democracy and pluralism. A society where some are granted rights at the expense of others is doomed, just as those societies that fail to recognise differences between individuals, regions or communities Historically, it is all too clear where the authoritarian strategy of “divide and conquer” can lead, when politicians use vulnerable groups as scapegoats and as a means to divert attention away from their own failings. I firmly believe that differences are not a liability, but a strength. If the actual problems are poor working conditions in the health care sector or crop failure linked to climate change, this will not be solved by demonisation of those who already bear the brunt of such issues.
I have also been watching politicians and political parties increasingly use symbols of solidarity in their campaigns: a Star of David here, a rainbow flag there, a photograph with some minority group. And I find myself asking a rather uncomfortable question: Are politicians actually listening to people, or simply displaying them as a political prop? During this year’s election campaign, in particular, I have increasingly had the feeling that we are sometimes confusing visibility with representation. That faces and symbols are being presented to signify inclusion, while the policies affecting our everyday lives continue to deteriorate at an accelerating pace.
There is of course nothing wrong with showing solidarity with communities that are disadvantaged, exploited or exposed to attacks. Symbols can communicate belonging, solidarity and a commitment to work against injustice. What concerns me is what happens when the symbol becomes more important than actual people and actual issues. I work every day with issues concerning people with disabilities and others whose voices are too often missing from political decision-making. Because of that, I tend to look at politics through a particular lens. I notice who is who is being spoken about or appears in photographs, but has no seat at the table. I wonder about silenced voices and those who are missing altogether. Those who live in fear of their lives or livelihoods, those who cannot afford to go to where the meetings are being held, and those who are confined to their homes due to old age, chronic illness or disability.
I have seen this before and perhaps this is why all of this feels strangely familiar to me. I come from Syria, a country where elections existed, but meaningful political choice did not. We participated in elections because that was what citizens were expected to do. We stood in queues, cast our votes and performed the rituals of democracy, even though the outcome was already known. And there was another part of that political theatre that I remember very well: people from marginalised groups could become powerful visual symbols. They were placed in photographs standing next to a politician, or were allowed to say a few words in a panel discussion, all just to show that the system cared about “the people”. An ordinary woman from a rural village, for instance. A person with a disability or a member of a minority community.
In the case of Syria, the political system did not necessarily need the votes of the people, since the result was already known. But it needed the image. More than ten years later, I am witnessing the same optics and the same strategies during the ongoing election campaign here in Sweden.
Sweden is obviously not Syria. Here, elections and votes matter. There is still the possibility for political power to change hands. Citizens can still organise, campaign, criticise politicians and remove governments through elections. In this country, politicians do need voters. But what happens after the campaign speeches, when the votes from all the different “demographics” have been cast? Should people with disabilities just crawl back into our closets, together with everyone else in this country who is struggling to get by on a daily basis? Should we just wait to be dusted off and presented to the public when the next elections are due in four years’ time?
Politics is not ultimately about optics or rhetoric during election campaigns - it is about the hard work in the years that follow. If you want to show solidarity with people with disabilities, show me your disability policy. Show me how you intend to improve accessibility, your plans for personal assistance, transport, employment, education and independent living. Show me concretely how people with disabilities will participate in shaping the future of this country. Tell me what you did when political decisions were taken that now make our lives even more challenging. Convince me that you have now understood that some meek reservation during parliamentary debates will not be enough in the years to come.
A person with a disability should not have to appear in a campaign photograph before accessibility becomes a political priority. We are not flags that you can waive and then discard. A religious minority should not have to become an electoral target group before politicians take discrimination seriously.And a poor person should not have to become the face of “ordinary people” while policies continue to make their life harder.
I have lived in a place where elections were largely a performance. I now live in a country where elections are supposed to be a mechanism through which citizens genuinely determine their political future.I do not want to see democracy reduced to another kind of performance. Democracy deserves more than symbolism and tokenism. It deserves citizens who ask difficult questions, journalists who look beyond campaign images, politicians who understand that communities are not voting blocks, minorities are not accessories, and vulnerable people are not campaign props. Perhaps most importantly, it deserves citizens who refuse to be impressed simply because someone knows which symbol to display or which hairdo will convey the “message”.
Before you vote, look beyond the photograph
I have no interest in telling Swedish voters who to vote for, but as Sweden heads towards the 2026 elections, I hope we can ask ourselves better questions.
Elections are not about who looks “inclusive” or “competent”, but about who is prepared to do the difficult, unglamorous work of governing. Who understands that elections are not about “winning” and defeating your opponents, but about serving the people? Who will spend long evenings going through technical documents? Who will meet and listen to the people affected by the decisions? Who is actually prepared to do the work that it takes, for as long as it takes?
Chavia Ali
chaviaali#





Comments