The Most Wanted Man in Sweden

A new BBC Radio 4 drama by the writer and broadcaster Danny Robins explores what happened when an innocent man became Sweden's Most Wanted criminal. A real-life Nordic Noir, here Danny talks about how he travelled to Northern Sweden to meet the Iraqi asylum seeker who inspired the production.

Moder Mothanna Magid, the Iraqi asylum seeker at the centre of the story - Photo by Camilla Stenlund

“We have snow and we have trees,” says Moder, looking at the thick pine forest that surrounds us. “If a man wants to do terrorism here, I don’t what kind of terrorism he would do.” He smiles a bemused grin, and then tells me the odd tale of how he became the Most Wanted Man in Sweden.

The tiny, sleepy town of Boliden lies in the far north of Sweden, a few hours’ drive from the Arctic Circle. Until the 19th September 2015, if anyone talked about Boliden, it was to mention the local gold mine, but on that day, the town and its one thousand inhabitants briefly became a focus for the whole of Sweden as Security Police descended on it in the culmination of one of the biggest manhunts in the country’s history.

This story was probably the strangest I have ever covered as a criminal reporter in over 25 years.
Camilla Stenlund (Journalist)

“This story was probably the strangest I have ever covered as a criminal reporter in over 25 years,” says Camilla Stenlund of Folkbladet, the local newspaper, as I look at her photos of police cars, vans and armed officers. They were chasing a dangerous jihadi terrorist whose face had been plastered across newspapers and television. His name was Moder Mothanna Magid and, finally, the Police were going to get their man.

There was just one small problem; it was all a huge mistake. Moder, an Iraqi asylum seeker in his early twenties, wasn’t a terrorist. He wasn’t even hiding. In fact, at that precise moment he was building a snow horse on a frozen lake with his friend, completely oblivious to the fact he’d become Sweden’s public enemy number one.

Photo by Camilla Stenlund

Having not yet learnt Swedish, he hadn’t seen the press coverage, so when the officers surrounded him, he was more surprised than scared. At first, he tells me, he even joked with them, until they told him he would be flown by helicopter to Stockholm for interrogation. That night, the headline of the respected Gothenburg Post proclaimed, in Hollywood-tinged English, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve got him!” Thus, began a Kafka-esque nightmare that lasted three days, as Moder answered questions, trying to prove his innocence without knowing what he was suspected of.

Tweet reads: Ladies and Gentlemen — We Got Him!

I travelled to Boliden to meet Moder for the BBC Radio 4 drama I was writing about, The Most Wanted Man in Sweden, starring Krister Henriksson and Nitin Ganatra. I met him on a sunny day in July by the lake where he was arrested; the ice now as hard to imagine as the circumstances of his arrest. Amazingly, two years on, he still has no idea of how he became of interest to Swedish security forces, and of what he was accused. When the decision was taken to release him, he says he had no real apology for the major error. He was told that he could be relocated away from Boliden, but declined. “They told me I could get another place, but I said why? Because I didn’t know anything about the newspapers.” He wasn’t prepared for the media onslaught he faced; reporters camped outside his flat, wanting to know how the Most Wanted Man felt now that he was no longer wanted.

In a thrilling new drama, Krister Henriksson stars in a story of terrorism and good food, inspired by real events.

Many people might have been overwhelmed, but Moder’s concerns were not with himself but how what had happened might affect the way other refugees in Sweden were perceived. He didn’t want Swedes to think all asylum seekers were potential terrorists, so he and his friends came up with a plan. They hired the church hall in Boliden and invited the whole town to a party. The idea being to remove some of the barriers between Swedes and the local refugee population.

Moder smiles at the memory of this culture clash. In his hometown, Mosul, temperatures can reach almost fifty degrees centigrade; before the arrival of ISIS, people sat and talked together outside in squares or on the streets. In Boliden, temperatures can drop to minus forty and Swedes huddle inside their homes, hibernating and keeping warm. Particularly this far North, they have a reputation for being shy and reserved, but on that one night, everyone came together, talked, ate Iraqi food and danced to Iraqi music.

“Boliden really needed the party I think, says Markus, a young local who was there. “It was like breaking the wall a bit, so people could see that there’s really not so much difference between us.”

Moder takes it in his stride that his story will now be dramatized on the BBC. He’s got used to telling it. The week I met him there had been a documentary on Swedish TV about his case. His new celebrity status hasn’t brought any more security though. He has permission to stay for three years, but no guarantees beyond that. It’s a state of limbo that many refugees here face. Sweden has taken in more asylum seekers per capita than any other country in Europe, but as the reality of this hits and politicians struggle with divided public opinion, many are now being sent back to uncertain futures in their homelands.

Surprisingly, despite what happened to him, Moder isn’t bitter. He enjoys life in Sweden amongst the thick snow and endless pines, and feels privileged to be in a position where he can help break down some of the boundaries between Swedes and refugees, but he still can’t fathom what an aspiring terrorist would get up to in Boliden. “Maybe he would cut down all the trees in the forest?”