Sweden's Tolerance Tested By Migrant Surge

Just under an hour's drive to the southwest of the Swedish capital, Stockholm, is the town of Södertälje.

It is a place where the openness of Sweden's policy on immigration is palpable but so too are the strains and tensions it is causing.

More than 10,000 of Södertälje's residents have roots in Iraq. Nearly 8,000 are from Syria.

Last year, this country of just nine million people accepted 85,000 refugees. This year, its government says it plans to take in 100,000.

A spike in refugees from Syria arriving in Södertälje over the past four years correlates directly with the timeline of Syria's grim and ongoing civil war.

Sweden is unique in its policy of granting every Syrian who makes it here automatic residency.

Regardless of the fact that most arrive illegally and with the help of traffickers or smugglers, they are given a grant for housing and state-funded education.

The problem is that a national policy designed to give refugees a chance and make their lives that little bit more humane has caused a surge in the numbers coming here.

:: The Route Migrants Are Taking To Reach Europe

It is putting a strain on public services and, predictably, it is boosting the popularity of political parties far to the right of the traditional mainstream.

But we found something far less predictable: immigrants, now settled in Södertälje, who are themselves now questioning if Sweden has gone too far.

Afrum Yakoub arrived in Sweden in 1989. He gives Sky News a drive-by tour of the town. We pass a community centre, a restaurant and a high school.

"This school, you see, it has around 500 students but I think there's only one ethnically Swedish student," he says.

"That's a problem because integration is impossible. The immigrant children can't integrate, can't learn Swedish language and culture."

Mr Yakoub makes clear that he believes the Swedish government policies are laudable.

But he thinks the 'surge' of people from the Middle East has its consequences.

Refugees are not able to assimilate properly into Sweden. The result is an increasingly divided society which serves no one.

Next to the town hall in Södertälje is the Elafskolan School.

It opened last year to support the growing numbers of Assyrian Christians fleeing persecution in Syria.

It is the only school of its kind outside Syria and it has already outgrown its premises.

"Our purpose is to make children with Assryan backgrounds better educated," says headteacher Helmuth Lavicka.

"If you know who you are, then it's easier for you to integrate.

"If you don't then you are always in a cultural conflict."

We watch the young children playing. A group is drawing while others play with a Monopoly board.

Maths is taught by Nahir Acar; born in Sweden, Syrian by heritage and a man who is conflicted in his views.

"Here we have shown we can live together, work together and eat together without problems," he says.

"Maybe too many have come together. Not over 10 years ... in the last five years everybody has come together.

"I believe and think it's not good for them and not for us."

He hints at the growing realisation here that alongside immigration there must be integration.

Bound up in Europe's struggle over how to deal with the influx of refugees are various challenges.

Integration is just one: human nature dictates that people want to live with kindred spirits - Syrians will naturally be drawn to other Syrians.

That does not help create an integrated society and does not allay concerns by some of an erosion of traditional values and culture.

Another challenge is balancing a pragmatic immigration policy against the values on which the European Union was founded.

Elafskolan's head teacher is himself an immigrant. He was born in Austria in 1944 when the European continent was broken.

He accepts the pressures Sweden faces but says Europe has a duty to help.

"There is something rotten in the house of Europe. I am not scared but I am very, very angry about how some countries are dealing with the issue," he says.

"The paradox in this issue is that the Europeans lost conscience in what the European Project is all about.

"After World War Two, millions of refugees got hosted in most European countries in broken societies.

"Now this continent is the richest on this planet and could easily handle this issue, if there would be a political will."

Across the street, we meet the human face of Europe's dilemma.

Firjal Toma has just arrived in Sweden. She fled war and terrorism in Syria, she survived dangerous smuggling gangs through Europe, she hugely appreciates Sweden's generosity and yet she would rather not be here.

"We didn't want to leave. We lived very well in Syria, we had everything we needed ... we left because of the war and the terrorists," she says.