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‘Sweden’s manga-child porn case is reminiscent of the Eastern bloc’

In the aftermath of the Supreme Court case which examined whether manga cartoon images constituted child pornography, Swedish journalist and columnist Ola Tedin ponders the morality of the court's ruling.

'Sweden's manga-child porn case is reminiscent of the Eastern bloc'

Swedes are used to thinking of their society as egalitarian and well ordered. And of course, compared to many countries this is quite true.

We lack overt corruption, have rather shallow social divides, as well as a strong social contract between citizen and state.

Even so, the highly publicized court case against manga expert Simon Lundström, who was on trial for having child pornography in his computer, has many similarities to what went on in the former Eastern bloc or in an average third-world dictatorship.

It all started with a tip from Lundström’s former partner, who told the prosecutor of the supposedly illegal content on the manga expert’s computer.

Enter the police, who after sifting through tens of thousands of pictures came up with around 40 suspected cases of child pornography.

Just to make things even more dramatic, the offending images – cartoons really – weren’t allowed be published in the Swedish media. In fact, it was illegal for anyone to look at them unless that person is an officer of the law or in some other way officially connected to the case.

So what do we have so far? A denouncement by colleague leading to a police raid, which produces evidence that is kept secret.

For anyone interested in transparency and the rule of law, the whole episode is a bit hard to swallow.

Even at the following trial(s), the rather bizarre charade continued.

After two consecutive convictions by lower courts, those of us following the case only had the prosecutor’s word claiming that the images constituted illegal child pornography. Other people could not form their own opinions, as it was illegal to produce the images in public.

Does this ring any bells?

But not even the recent acquittal of Lundström by the Supreme Court feels too reassuring.

For what the ruling more or less says is that Simon Lundström, by being who he is – a manga expert, can quite legally keep one or two drawings in his vast collection that could, in other cases, be regarded as illegal child pornography.

Lucky for him.

But what if a future regular manga enthusiast by misadventure happens to download the very same pictures?

After all, we have on record that the Supreme Court still regards a few of the images in the manga expert’s collection as illegal.

Except not in Simon Lundström’s case – because he happens to be an expert, not a consumer.

Not to mention the court’s haphazard crack at evaluating the artistic merits of the drawings themselves in a desperate attempt to save this ill found piece of legal text.

In the end, it feels like the kind of legal quagmire that second rate dictatorships tend to end up in when they try to limit free speech.

Or when a benign social welfare state let’s its own moralism guide its law-making.

Ola Tedin has written opinion journalism for several Swedish dailies, including Sydsvenskan and Expressen. He was the op-ed editor of the Ystad Allehanda newspaper from 2001 to 2011.

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African-born director’s new vision for Berlin cultural magnet

One of the rare African-born figures to head a German cultural institution, Bonaventure Ndikung is aiming to highlight post-colonial multiculturalism at a Berlin arts centre with its roots in Western hegemony.

African-born director's new vision for Berlin cultural magnet

The “Haus der Kulturen der Welt” (House of World Cultures), or HKW, was built by the Americans in 1956 during the Cold War for propaganda purposes, at a time when Germany was still divided.

New director Ndikung said it had been located “strategically” so that people on the other side of the Berlin Wall, in the then-communist East, could see it.

This was “representing freedom” but “from the Western perspective”, the 46-year-old told AFP.

Now Ndikung, born in Cameroon before coming to study in Germany 26 years ago, wants to transform it into a place filled with “different cultures of the world”.

The centre, by the river Spree, is known locally as the “pregnant oyster” due to its sweeping, curved roof. It does not have its own collections but is home to exhibition rooms and a 1,000-seat auditorium.

It reopened in June after renovations, and Ndikung’s first project “Quilombismo” fits in with his aims of expanding the centre’s offerings.

The exhibition takes its name from the Brazilian term “Quilombo”, referring to the communities formed in the 17th century by African slaves, who fled to remote parts of the South American country.

Throughout the summer, there will also be performances, concerts, films, discussions and an exhibition of contemporary art from post-colonial societies across Africa, the Americas, Asia and Oceania.

‘Rethink the space’

“We have been trying to… rethink the space. We invited artists to paint walls… even the floor,” Ndikung said.

And part of the “Quilombismo” exhibition can be found glued to the floor -African braids laced together, a symbol of liberation for black people, which was created by Zimbabwean artist Nontsikelelo Mutiti.

According to Ndikung, African slaves on plantations sometimes plaited their hair in certain ways as a kind of coded message to those seeking to escape, showing them which direction to head.

READ ALSO: Germany hands back looted artefacts to Nigeria

His quest for aestheticism is reflected in his appearance: with a colourful suit and headgear, as well as huge rings on his fingers, he rarely goes unnoticed.

During his interview with AFP, Ndikung was wearing a green scarf and cap, a blue-ish jacket and big, sky-blue shoes.

With a doctorate in medical biology, he used to work as an engineer before devoting himself to art.

In 2010, he founded the Savvy Gallery in Berlin, bringing together art from the West and elsewhere, and in 2017 was one of the curators of Documenta, a prestigious contemporary art event in the German city of Kassel.

Convinced of the belief that history “has been written by a particular type of people, mostly white and men,” Ndikung has had all the rooms in the HKW renamed after women.

These are figures who have “done something important in the advancement of the world” but were “erased” from history, he added. Among them is Frenchwoman Paulette Nardal, born in Martinique in 1896.

She helped inspire the creation of the “negritude” movement, which aimed to develop black literary consciousness, and was the first black woman to study at the Sorbonne in Paris.

Reassessing history

Ndikung’s appointment at the HKW comes as awareness grows in Germany about its colonial past, which has long been overshadowed by the atrocities committed during the era of Adolf Hitler’s Nazis.

Berlin has in recent years started returning looted objects to African countries which it occupied in the early 20th century — Burundi, Rwanda, Tanzania, Namibia and Cameroon.

“It’s long overdue,” said Ndikung.

He was born in Cameroon’s capital, Yaounde, into an anglophone family.

The country is majority francophone but also home to an anglophone minority and has faced deadly unrest in English-speaking areas, where armed insurgents are fighting to establish an independent homeland.

One of his dreams is to open a museum in Cameroon “bringing together historical and contemporary objects” from different countries, he said.

He would love to locate it in Bamenda, the capital of Cameroon’s restive Northwest region.

“But there is a war in Bamenda, so I can’t,” he says.

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