A framework for analysing antagonistic narrative strategies: A Russian tale of Swedish decline

Abstract

New information technologies and media consumption patterns have enabled aggressive practices that are qualitatively different from old-style propaganda. Actors no longer rely on secrecy, but can openly make use of social media and media outlets in foreign languages to destabilize other states and societies from within. Strategic narratives have become a key means in this endeavour. To expose the discursive (harmful) capacity of strategic narratives, the article suggests detailed analysis based on a narrative ontology. The analytical framework is applied in an exploratory case study of the Russian state-sponsored broadcasting company Sputnik’s strategic narrative about Sweden from 2014 to 2018. In addition to unmasking Sputnik’s strategic narrative, the article fills a gap in previous research in particular by exposing three antagonistic narrative strategies labelled ‘suppression’, ‘destruction’ and ‘direction’. These strategies reflect general driving forces in the security sphere and can inspire and structure future research into antagonistic strategic narration.

Introduction

Many authoritarian and semi-authoritarian states and non-state actors project strategic narratives that include distorted information through media outlets in foreign languages (Walker, 2016). Miskimmon et al. (2017: 6) define strategic narrative as ‘a means by which political actors attempt to construct a shared meaning of the past, present, and future of international politics to shape the behavior of domestic and international actors’. Previous research has focused mostly on how states project themselves in the international arena (Hartig, 2015; Liao, 2017). Yet, the destabilizing capacity of strategic narratives requires further study and specification. This article suggests an analytical framework based on a narrative ontology to be used to expose strategies in antagonistic strategic narration.

The article adds to the literature on political communication and media–political relations in two main ways. First, it demonstrates how application of the full toolkit of classic narrative analysis takes us beyond superficial analyses of key themes in the messaging that is common to studies of antagonistic messaging (Colliver et al., 2018; NATO Stratcom, 2018). What is lacking is detailed narrative analysis that asks not what is said, nor how much is said, but rather how the story is told and what harm this can inflict. Second, the article furthers theorizing by moving beyond the analysis of content of strategic narratives to a focus on the underlying logic and purposes behind strategic narration. It covers a blind spot in previous research by asking the following research question: What specific strategies do states and other actors use to story the ‘other’ for their own gain, and to the detriment of the narrated?

To unearth strategies in antagonistic strategic narration, we conduct a careful narrative reading of the state-sponsored Russian media outlet Sputnik’s narrative on Sweden 2014–2018. News reporting is commonly coloured by national political culture. Emil Edenborg (2018) for instance demonstrates how both Russian and Swedish media’s narration of migrants committing sexual violence are affected by historic myths about gender and race. The choice of a Russian government-backed media outlet as an illustration of antagonistic narration is nevertheless warranted since the Russian government has clearly demonstrated its inclination to use information as a strategic vehicle, including for military purposes. This is for instance visible in the Information Security Doctrine of 2000, which is intended to strengthen Russian national interests in the information sphere through support of state media (Russian Government, 2000); the Military Doctrine, which establishes information as part of modern conflict (Russian Government, 2014); and in the National Security Strategy, which focuses on information war at a global level and views information as a tool for national security (Russian Government, 2015).

Moreover, previous research demonstrates that the Russian government supports the projection of strategic narratives that include negative information about other states and their politics and/or societies, using state-sponsored media outlets (Bennett and Livingston, 2018; Ramsay and Robertshaw, 2019; Watanabe, 2017: 139; Yablokov, 2015). Analysing Sputnik, we do not capture the voice of the Russian government, but we do capture a state-sponsored media narrative. Along with Russia Today (RT), Sputnik is the major media outlet backed by the Russian government intended for projection of Russian nfluence abroad (Groll, 2014; Ramsay and Robertshaw, 2019: 11). It was launched in 2014, based on the government-owned radio station Voice of Russia, and owned by Rossiya Segodnya, which was created by presidential decree in 2013 to spread news about Russian state policy and public life abroad (Ramsay and Robershaw 2019: 11).

Ramsay and Robertshaw propose that the motive of Russian multi-language news broadcasting is to ‘skew or disrupt information on selected issues, events or stories to serve Russian interests’. The ensuing analysis unpacks such practices, exposing how information influence activities are carried out to inflict harm on other states or actors. The analysis does not provide a comprehensive analysis of Russian government-backed media narratives on Sweden but is limited to the dissection of the content of one key outlet of government-sponsored narration. The aim is to use the results of the analysis in order to expose key narrative strategies.

The next section analyses what is new in contemporary antagonistic narration and argues for a narrative ontology. We then describe our analytical procedures. The ensuing exploratory case study leads us to suggest the prevalence of three key strategies in antagonistic strategic narration: suppression – intended to accomplish status shifts; destruction – intended to damage the other’s capabilities; and direction – intended to steer the narrative towards a preferred way of behaviour by way of implicit inducements.

Previous research on antagonistic messaging and the need for narrative analysis

At first sight, antagonistic narration in the contemporary media ecology might appear to be equivalent to traditional propaganda (Lasswell, 1927: 627). Yet, as Corner (2007: 676) points out:

The concept of propaganda is too crude to catch at the more stealthy, partial ways in which discourses of power are at work in culture, it may also, in its very uncertainty of criteria, lack the bold directness to identify the ‘organised lie’ as the continuing central problem at the heart of ‘bad communication’ and ‘bad politics’. Propaganda is an idea that media political analysis has now to think beyond.

New information technologies and media consumption patterns have enabled aggressive practices that are qualitatively different from old-style propaganda. First, actors no longer rely primarily on secret practices such as infiltration and espionage, but can exploit normal media consumption patterns and make use of social media to destabilize other states and societies from within. States make use of open sources, utilize normal journalism and social media, hire native journalists and even make citizens in other states tell their stories through social media (Meijas and Vokuev, 2017). Second, it has become possible to reach larger audiences and tailor messages to specific audiences via social media in completely new ways. Third, the content of messaging has changed, with the projection of narratives becoming more central. The salience and persuasive power of strategic narratives lie in their capacity to position states and peoples, to provide mental maps through which people may learn of their place and that of ‘the other’ in the world (Miskimmon et al., 2013). Narratives evoke strong feelings, which may weaken the audience’s ability to make a sound judgment on the content of the story (Maan, 2018; Wemer, 2019).

In order to address this kind of narrative messaging, we need the full toolkit of narrative analysis and poststructuralist ontology based on a view of the world as narrated (for an overview of narrative analysis in political science and international relations, see Patterson and Renwick Monroe, 1998, and Oppermann and Spencer, 2018: 271–272). This involves viewing social life as ‘storied’, which means that individuals orient themselves through stories about (political) life (Somers, 1994: 613–614). This builds on Burke’s (1963/1964) understanding of human beings as symbol-making creatures, separated from animals by their ability to use language to create human reality symbolically. Everything, including the way we identify ourselves, occurs via narratives because everyone makes sense of the world through the available collection of social, public and cultural narratives. Indeed, many scholars use narrative analysis to expose how states tell stories about themselves to change discourses and identities (Bacon, 2012: 769; Miskimmon et al., 2013: 2). Yet, we should not assume a priori that antagonistic strategic narration primarily aims at identity change; other aims may be involved, such as making a state look weak or eroding trust in authorities or the media. The extent to which identity manipulation is involved in antagonistic narration is thus an empirical question.

Methodology

We target what Bacon (2012: 782–783) labels as ‘public political narratives . . . a sequential account given by dominant political actors, choosing and connecting specific developments so as to impose a desired order on them.’ The analytical unit is the main narrative, i.e. the main story told during the period studied.

We approach the material by asking what are the stories being told and, at the same time, how are the stories being told? In the coding phase, we take note of the stories’ emergence, duration, frequency and changes over time and/or end. We ask what are the events and spaces and who are the actors involved? We also register what is posed as the problem, the reason given for the problem, expected outcomes and suggested solutions.

To take a closer look at the inner workings of the narratives, we use investigative tools derived from Somers (1994: 616). First, we enquire into the relationality or connectedness of parts, which is about making events intelligible by sorting out their relation to other events. It concerns how the ‘whole’ – the consistent story – is created. What and how are the events and spaces connected to each other and what are the actors’ relations to each other? What glues the parts together?

Second, we explore causal emplotment, which is about how the sequences and episodes are ordered and how they connect selected, specific developments so as to impose a desired order on them. It is thus about the inner logic of the text.

Third, we focus on temporality and place, which concerns how events are placed in temporal and spatial relation to one another.

Fourth and finally, we target selective and temporal appropriation, which is about what events are selectively and/or temporally appropriated, and what events are omitted. Temporality is central here as the key narrative act is establishing the beginning – the ‘once upon a time’ – of a story. Temporalities of a narrative may shift, e.g. from a focus on the distant past to the very recent past, the present and onwards to the future, depending on what is selectively appropriated.

Applying these narrative tools, we will demonstrate how an analysis of antagonistic strategic narration can be carried out by going through a few key analytical steps. First, we provide an overview of the main story and the general narrative techniques used to establish a strong narrative. Subsequently, we discern the antagonistic narrative strategies by analysing the narrative parts of the main story: the actors/agency, events and subplots/stories.

Sputnik articles on Sweden (English edition) are available from 1 January 2014, yet only six articles were published from January to August. We thus begin our analysis in September 2014. We decided that a satisfying size of sample would encompass two months of coverage each year. We thus choose to cover a representative sample including September and October for every year from 2014 until 2018, analysing every article with the word ‘Sweden’ in the headline, in total 208 articles. Yet another factor that influenced our choice of time periods was our aim to analyse ordinary day-to-day news coverage rather than particular, spectacular events. For example, had we chosen December, the narrative might have become biased by centring on the Nobel festivities, or similar media events that stand out from the ordinary reporting. It should be added that, by choosing the most inclusive search term possible – ‘Sweden’, we were able to include not only obvious political reporting, but reporting on all kinds of events and issues about Sweden, including, for example, sports. This enabled us to map the narrative onto Sweden as a whole.

Both authors followed the same coding instructions. A fifth of the material was coded by both analysts. A qualitative narrative analysis cannot be reproduced in every detail or nuance. In this case, the two readings were in agreement, pinpointing the same conflicting actors in the stories, the same spaces, temporalities, and so on. The analysts also identified the same subplots. This said, even if another coder had made a slightly different reading or identified yet another subplot, this would not have changed the overall conclusion: that Sputnik’s main narrative is one of a ‘Sweden in decline’ and that three general strategies can be inferred from the results of the narrative analysis.

Finally, the empirical findings will focus on major themes. This means that typical examples envisaged within parentheses are, with a few exceptions, typical of the narration at hand, that is, they are not single occurrences but indicators of a larger number of articles.

Overview of the main story and general narrative techniques

The aim of this analytical step is to provide a general overview of the content of the main narrative, its subplots and how it changes over time. It constitutes a brief characterization of the narrative before going into detail during the ensuing analytical steps. It also exposes how the narrator links events and actors to create a logical sequence, coherence and strength. Examples of questions asked are: What is the main story and what subplots can be identified? Which events/actors are given prevalence and connected/not connected so as to create a logical sequence and narrative coherence?

To begin with, it is noticeable that, in 2014, Sputnik repeatedly reported on two current events that were also covered in traditional news media – the hunt for a submarine and the Swedish recognition of Palestine. In the following years, the reporting changed drastically: Sputnik reported in a strictly thematic way, narrating singular events, with no follow-ups, and every piece fitted nicely into one or more of the subplots presented below. This makes Sputnik’s narrative of 2015–2018 appear to be not like traditional news media coverage driven by day-to-day events, but like a calculated campaign that included selective reporting on a number of particular pre-set themes.

On the whole, Sputnik continually places Sweden in a declining spiral with few possibilities of betterment. The narrative is temporally and factually selective in terms of appropriated events with a clear inclination towards the negative in order to construct the required presentation of a ‘Sweden in decline’. The main plot pictures Sweden, once a prosperous thriving country with admirable ethical and moral values, now as a politically shattered weak state, experiencing political disorder and social chaos, in what can best be described as a state of failure.

The main narration of Sweden in decline is noticeable already in 2014 but comes following the thematic change in 2015 with its main focus on the influx of migration to Sweden to completely dominate Sputnik’s narration of Sweden with very few exceptions (and with none that contradict the main narrative). Over time, the main narrative becomes more varied and multifaceted, with the emergence of new subplots, which only increases its coherence and strength. The new subplots follow the main narrative of Sweden in decline by adding more issue-specific problematic spaces.

In 2014, the narrator uses one single subplot, which we label ‘The Conflict-Torn Space’, picturing Sweden as a polarized society and a state in continuous dispute with the outside world, a subplot identified in almost half of the articles during the entire time period (100 articles). The following year, Sputnik starts narrating immigration and crime, which results in the subplots that we label ‘The Invaded Space’ and ‘The Unsafe Space’ (65 and 42 articles respectively during the time period). The year after, three more subplots are distinguishable, all of which are in some way or other related to exaggerated liberal tendencies; ‘The (Un)Sexy Space’; ‘The Decadent Space’ and ‘The Ultra-Modern Space’ (15, 24 and 6 articles during the time period). The most interesting finding here is not the quantity of articles within each subplot, but rather our analysis below of how the subplots are constructed and how they intersect, feed into and reinforce one another, all playing into the main narrative. Remarkably, even though the reasons for the decline vary in these subplots, ranging from weak, irresponsible leaders, to exaggerated liberal tendencies, they tend to remain wholly consistent with and strengthen the main plot of Sweden in a state of disarray and failure. This paragraph only provided a very brief overview of the main narrative and its subplots. Details with references to specific articles are provided under the heading ‘Stories in Stories’.

A few techniques are used to provide logical sequence and narrative coherence. First, although the narrator outlines no explicit connections or logic, seemingly unrelated events and actors are often grouped implicitly so as to appear part of a logical sequence. The reader is served an incomplete story and is expected to fill in the blanks. Thus, the narrative comes into being as the reader makes meaning out of an item, or decodes it (Hall, 1999). In some stories, the author goes to great lengths to link seemingly unrelated events. For example, there is the story about Chinese tourists being maltreated by Swedish police (Sputnik 2018e), which ends with a passage about the general election and migration. The narrator does not explain why these three topics are grouped together, but expects the reader to make the connections and accept the implicit logic. A similar example is a story that links Swedish gender equality to physical and sexual violence (Sputnik, 2018k). This way, the reader is led to understand a situation in a certain way, without Sputnik explicitly providing the interpretation. The reader is invited to become a co-author of the text, strengthening the likelihood that he or she internalizes the message. Different story lines are thus combined to direct readers towards the dominant understanding of what has gone wrong in Sweden. This strengthens the narrative since, as Bacon (2012: 781) argues, ‘the strength of narrative lies in the causal emplotment gained from linking events together. Linkages in a narrative make it difficult to reinterpret isolated elements without undermining the narrative as a whole.’

Second, another technique is to avoid direct referencing to Russia. In 2014, there are articles about the incursion by a Russian submarine (Sputnik, 2014c, 2014d) and the auction of a Russian building in Stockholm (Sputnik, 2014a). There are also stories about Swedish politics that Russia approves of, such as the Swedish recognition of Palestine (Sputnik, 2014b) and Swedish support of Russia’s role in the Syrian war (Sputnik, 2015b). Later, Russia appears more rarely, normally only in connection with military tensions and Swedish ‘Russophobia’ (Sputnik, 2016c). This relative absence of the ‘self’ makes the reporting look less like traditional foreign coverage and more like distanced and sober descriptions, based on a purportedly universally valid frame of reference that leaves little room for alternative interpretations. Moreover, there is no foreign or evil ‘other’ visible and no easily discernible intent to manipulate the reader, all of which may make the reader more susceptible to accepting the stories uncritically.

Narrative parts of the main story: Actors, events and stories

The brief initial analysis provided an overview of the main narrative and highlighted how the narrator applied a few techniques to accomplish a strong and coherent narrative: the use of subplots to strengthen the main story and the selective appropriation of actors and events, forging connections between them and creating a logical sequence. The ensuing analytical steps will expose the strategies used to inflict harm on the narrated and/or induce them towards different ways of behaviour, thus highlighting instances of suppression, destruction and direction.

Actors/agency

This analytical step involves the role of the actor. It places considerable focus on the relationality of parts, selective appropriation and the agency of the actor, with a focus on causal emplotment, by asking such questions as: What places and roles do the actors have in the plot? Who are the victims/heroes/villains/fools? An analysis of actors/agency can expose how the narrator goes about inflicting harm by storying actors negatively – usually as villains and fools – while narrating others positively, as heroes or treating them sympathetically, as innocent victims.

In the narrative about agency, we identified the strategy of destruction that has the potential to destroy Swedish capabilities and its muscle as a strong state. We can see how the narrator pursues a message of a once orderly, powerful Sweden that has lost capabilities and capacity. The political leaders are no longer the heroes in control but have turned into fools, the villains are uncontrollable, the victims are beyond salvation and the heroes are impeded from saving the country. The narrator imposes a temporality that draws attention to the mistakes of Swedish leaders, thereby attributing causality for political disaster to them. Clearly, the story imposes a temporality, which draws attention to the agency or lack thereof of the Swedish politicians and leaders responsible for the situation at hand, thereby attributing causality for the downfall to them. The role of the fools is primarily attributed to the passive, stupid and incompetent politicians and authorities, who hide the truth from the population. For example, there is the story of the incompetent Swedish Border Police, who allow anyone to enter the country while politicians try to cover it up ahead of the 2018 general election (Sputnik, 2018f). Overall, the agency is characterized by poor leadership, allowing for a vast inflow of migrants and ensuing Islamization, rising crime levels and unrest. There are also stories about crime with no connections to migration, such as the one about Sweden ‘swamped with Evil Clown Shenanigans’ (Sputnik, 2016e). A typical example is the narration of the consequences of the migration crisis, with numerous stories of a disempowered Sweden in chaos, illustrated by the headline quoting a bewildered and passive Prime Minister stating ‘I Don’t Know This Sweden’ (Sputnik, 2015d).

The villains in the narrative are the migrants and Islam destroying or taking over the country (Sputnik, 2018g), yet it can also be politicians or radical feminists. For instance, there are critical stories about tax millions blown on ‘feminist’ trucks, ‘equal’ firefighting and the feminist Swedish government. The victims are the ‘real’ Swedish people, Swedes in general and, in particular, Swedish men. The story often goes that Swedish politicians are fooling citizens about the migration problem; they are hiding facts and spending tax money on irrational projects that benefit feminism (Sputnik, 2016b), migrants or even terrorists (Sputnik, 2018i). The story on 16 September 2016 (Sputnik, 2016b) is typical in its portrait of a Swedish public ‘perplexed’ by yet another irrational political move – a government decision to launch a new agency to pursue gender equality. No sources are provided to verify the allegedly general perplexity among Swedes. However, the victims can sometimes just be the Sweden Democrats (SD) – a nationalistic, conservative and anti-immigration party – or some Swedish groups or individuals.

The narrative on villains and victims makes visible the strategy of suppression that aims to ruin Sweden’s status as a respectable or even admirable space in the world. Passive leadership is charged with leading the country away from religious beliefs and values towards ultra-modernity, where liberal values are exaggerated and feminist agendas have been allowed to take root. This makes Sweden look like a ridiculous space that is not to be taken seriously.

Finally, the SD and their voters are the heroes in the narrative, brave enough to take matters in hand and be responsible. For example, the narrator directs the reader’s attention to the success of the SD in carrying on ‘against the odds’ and ‘despite a smear campaign’ (Sputnik, 2016d). In the wake of the 2018 general election, for instance, there is a story about the SD being the only ones attacking the government for ‘putting the generous welfare state at risk’ (Sputnik, 2018b).

Events

The analysis of events is largely about temporal relationships. The analysis takes in the selective/temporal appropriation and relationality of parts of the beginning and the end (often set in the future). Examples of questions asked are: What are the temporal relationships and how are they established? Is the narrative historically or future oriented? Where is the problem/solution in the past/future?

The narrative analysis of events exposes a strategy of suppressing Sweden in order to harm its good status in the international community. In the Sputnik narrative, the temporality of the main narrative displays repeated references to an indistinct past in which Sweden was presumably in a better position, but since then has steadily deteriorated. By referring to particular looming problems, the main focus is on the ‘facts’ of the decline, putting Sweden in a once superior position of moral and ethical superiority, as a liberal society, a true do-gooder, from which it is falling or has already fallen. For instance, a story of 9 September 2018 (Sputnik, 2018c) signals a status shift for this once utopian country, now experiencing extreme internal problems. The story pits the old socialist utopian Sweden against a new Sweden in the midst of change, placing unsavoury immigrants centre stage. Another story (Sputnik, 2018h) depicts a state, previously renowned for its safe roads, now becoming a dangerous place with unsafe roads due to immigrants, who do not see the point of rigorous driving education. The narrator keeps a distant tone, placing seemingly odd statements from Swedish authorities in quotation marks, as a mark of their inferiority/stupidity.

Sweden’s previously superior position is referred to in two contrasting but nevertheless co-constitutive ways: (1) Sweden was a superior country and has now deteriorated; and/or (2) Sweden was thought to be a superior country but, due to a range of looming problems, it can no longer maintain the façade of superiority, and the true disgraceful, despicable Sweden is appearing. Whereas the starting point of the Sweden in decline narrative places Sweden in a superior position, primarily ethically and morally, it is argued that the same characteristics have led to its downfall. Sweden’s good moral status – which it has maintained by allowing this large influx of immigrants – is apparently not good, as it has led to the downfall of the country. Another prominent example is the failure of the feminist stance, where Sweden once was thought to hold the reputation of being the ‘world’s best country for women’, yet now the exaggeration of feminist values and policies has resulted in other problems for women (Sputnik, 2018k).

By juxtaposing the relationality of the different ‘pasts’ (of actual and/or perceived superiority) and ordering events into a causal sequence, the matter of Sweden in decline, losing its reputation and status, is posed as an indubitable truth. The narrative of decline can be noted particularly in the ‘Chinese incident’ referred to above (Sputnik, 2018e), where a Chinese family was reported to have been mistreated by the Swedish police:

The police then arrived and forcibly dragged Zeng’s father, who was suffering from a severe cardiovascular disease, out of the hotel building and threw him to the ground, causing him to start twitching. ‘I could not imagine this happening in any modern country, especially Sweden, the hometown of the Nobel Prize,’ the man said. ‘It is so sarcastic that they talk about human rights all the time’, Zeng stated, adding he still awaits an explanation, apology and compensation from the Scandinavian country.

The Chinese incident exemplifies this aspect by being presented as both proof of how bad it had become, showcasing a clear downfall of Sweden as a good and just country, and simultaneously questioning the idea of Sweden ever having been as good as it was thought to have been. Another example of the new ‘evil’ Sweden is the narration of Sweden violating the human rights of WikiLeaks’ founder Julian Assange on inaccurate grounds (Sputnik, 2015c). There is also the story (Sputnik, 2015a) about how Sweden supports NATO airstrikes against civilian Afghanis, which undermines Sweden’s status as a humanitarian actor.

The strategy of suppression goes hand in hand with the strategy of destruction that can be seen in stories about the downfall of the country after the massive influx of immigrants that diminishes the state’s strength and capacity. Whereas the narrator usually refers to an indistinct past, one point is repeatedly identified as the moment when Sweden went astray: the massive intake of refugees from 2015 onwards. This path opened up because of a particularly naïve Swedish mind-set and self-identification with moral righteousness, going back long before the intake of migrants began. Due to the gullibility and weakness of its leaders, Sweden now faces a range of problems, and the capacity of many municipalities is severely challenged. The situation is worsened by the unwillingness of politicians to realize the serious nature of the problem – making it impossible for them to admit their error and take action.

The analysis of events also revealed a strategy of directing Sweden towards ‘better’ behaviour. Despite all this negative story telling, there is some hope, as the narrator directs Sweden towards a solution, the SD. Mixing negative reporting about Sweden’s gloomy future with stories of the (relative) successes of the SD, the author lays out the path towards a better future (Sputnik, 2018d). Similarly, in the military domain, the narrator directs Sweden towards a better option, highlighting the positive example of Finland – a sound international player – collaborating with its ‘vast eastern neighbour [Russia]’ (Sputnik, 2017d).

Stories within stories

This analytical step focuses on the subplots that build up the main narrative. Narratives focus material into a single coherent story, albeit with subplots. Subplots sit within the (approved) narrative; they are not alternative stories, however the source is the same (Bacon, 2012: 780). Examples of questions asked are: Which subplots can be identified and how are they constructed? What is the relationship between subplots and the main plot? Do they feed into or contradict each other?

This analysis again exposes strategies of destruction, with the narrator exaggerating Sweden’s weaknesses to make it look like an ungovernable, conflict-torn state with no allies, all of which have the potential to undermine Sweden’s strength. The subplots are remarkably compatible, playing into and strengthening one another, often in the same piece. Although the subplots point to a varied set of problems as reasons for, or arising from, the main plot – ranging from weak irresponsible leaders to exaggerated liberal tendencies – and the beliefs in the possibility of betterment differ, they remain consistent with the main plot of Sweden in a state of disarray and failure. The ‘Conflict-Torn Space’ draws many of the other plots together, placing exceptional Sweden in conflict with the external world in any imaginable way: with Norway about reindeer and migration (Sputnik, 2017c, 2018a); with Finland over North Stream 2 (Sputnik, 2017i); with Poland about fruit imports (Sputnik, 2016a); with China about the tourist incident (Sputnik, 2018e); and with Russia about everything from salmon (Sputnik, 2017a) to ‘imagined’ submarines. In the conflict narrative, Sweden looks weak, has diminishing capabilities and is struggling to meet imagined or real threats. This is a strategy of ‘destruction’, seen in the narration of a disempowered country that cannot deal with the current situation.

Moreover, the ‘Conflict-Torn Space’ subplot is about internal divisions: atheists against believers, refugees against Swedes, males against females, SD politicians other politicians, and so on. The subplot is infused with other subplots, thus strengthening the impression of a polarized society in chaos and decay. The narrator mixes unsound sexual habits, ultra-progressive political youth movements and migration into a story about conflicting views on polygamy (Sputnik, 2017g). This subplot also links and reinforces other subplots and the main plot in stories of political polarization between the SD and ‘the rest’. The SD political agenda corresponds with the Sputnik main narrative, especially in its negativity towards migration, Islamization and feminism. The narration of a conflict between SD and ‘the rest’ is spurred by selective factual referencing, as seen in a story about the alleged Islamization of the Social Democratic Youth Party (Sputnik, 2018l). The authors refer to ‘strong reactions among the Swedish public’, merely substantiated by three twitter posts with a few followers and likes.

The other subplots go into detail about the reasons for the state of decay. The ‘Invaded Space’ subplot primarily highlights migration policies in general, but particularly the recent vast intake of refugees, as the main causes for Sweden’s downfall, inciting an upsurge in crime, Islamization and the threat of terrorism (Sputnik, 2017f, 2017h).

In ‘the Decadent Space’, ‘the (Un)Sexy Space’ and the ‘Ultra Modern Space’ we can discern, again, the strategy of suppression that involves a denigrating of the (former) decent state that has now turned into a weird, even repulsive space. The exaggerated liberal tendencies make up a significant reason for the downfall of Sweden, which is suffering from ultra-modernity and untraditional values inherent to atheism and feminist agendas. This results in rootlessness, decadence and immoral behaviour (Sputnik, 2018j). The ‘Decadent Place’ plot also includes pieces about demographic problems resulting from the unattractive Swedish society (Sputnik, 2017b). Of special concern are the Swedish people who are led astray, experiencing rootlessness (Sputnik, 2017f), confusion, emptiness and even mental problems (Sputnik, 2017e, 2018j).

Other stories

Narrative analysis also puts a focus on other stories that may become alternative narratives. This risk arises with subplots that do not obviously fit into the main narrative or that contradict other subplots, which can make the narrative less coherent and eventually even silence it (Bacon, 2012: 780–781). An analysis of antagonistic narratives should always look for alternative narratives that may destabilize and weaken the main plot, thus making it less forceful and threatening. The main questions are: Are there any subplots that do not fit into the main plot? Are they destabilizing the main plot? However, in our case, as demonstrated above, the subplots are very well aligned with the main plot and only offer support to the main narrative. There is only one other story, visible in terms of the ending or the closing of the story. This is the subplot of political change being granted to the SD to turn the tide and return Sweden to its former glory. This subplot points to an alternative future, without the potential for instability of the main narrative, but rather feeding into it and thus reinforcing it. This is yet another indication that the narrator has succeeded in forging a strong, coherent narrative with potential to harm the readers. Moreover, it displays the strategy of direction – the narrator trying to guide Sweden towards a solution.

Antagonistic narrative strategies

The narrative analysis thus exposed antagonistic strategies that are relational because they have the potential to alter the relationship between the narrator, the readers and the rest of the world. They are not mutually exclusive; an individual story can include all three and they can be mutually reinforcing. As seen above, suppression and destruction often work together in the same articles, albeit serving different purposes. Whereas suppression is about altering the status of a state, destruction is about rendering it a weak state and undermining its material capabilities. We will elaborate further on the strategies below in order to clarify their respective functions.

First, suppression may result in status shifts in the international arena, status loss for the readers and status gain for the narrator. In this logic, a state can achieve higher status by damaging the status of others, making the other look bad and the ‘self’ look better. Our analysis did not cover governmental statements, yet it focused on an outlet for a narrative favoured by the government, a vehicle for strategic influence. Narratives aiming to achieve status shift may, for example, denigrate the other’s way of life, leadership or population. Status seeking is a central phenomenon in global affairs because state leaders generally strive for recognition from other states, desiring confirmation of their own identity as state leaders and/or of the state’s identity as a sovereign, internationally respected state (Ringmar, 1996). For example, Neumann (2014) argues that a power like Russia needs to achieve both civilized standards and capabilities to retain great power status. However, non-state security actors, such as the EU, also pursue status, and small states are perhaps particularly motivated by status seeking. They seek status in the moral dimension by gaining moral authority and being seen as good, reliable partners to great powers in helping to maintain the institutions of international order (Neumann and Carvalho, 2015: 1–2). Their moral status as ‘good powers’ is vulnerable to attack and can suffer great damage from strategic narratives targeting their status.

In our example, the narrator can inflict great harm on Sweden’s status as an open, liberal and moral state – which it has been upholding by allowing a great influx of immigrants – by telling stories that pour scorn on Sweden’s generous immigration policies. The narrator can also harm Sweden’s status by portraying it as a weird, even disgusting space, and by telling stories of disillusioned Swedes who are bereft of traditions and roots and, as a result, embrace peculiar new liberal and ultra-modern ideals. There is a heavy focus on moral issues pervading the stories about decadence, feminism and (negative) ultra-modernity.

Second, destruction may undermine capabilities, making the ‘other’ appear weak. This strategy is one that maximizes the power of the narrator by diminishing the power of the readers, harming their capabilities, whether they are material or immaterial. This strategy can damage an actor’s power, harming its capacity for deterrence, its military reputation, and its ability to attract partners for alliances or defence cooperation, diluting domestic support for the military organization, and so on. The narrated may be seen as a weak power, an unattractive partner, a power that does not fit into a security community, a power with scant chances of generating military strength, a power unable to defend itself, etc. The idea of maximizing power by diminishing the power of the ‘other’ is in line with realistic thinking of international relations as a zero-sum game and, in such a contest, one party’s loss is the other’s gain. In our case, destruction was used throughout the period through stories exposing weaknesses or peculiarities within the military organization, drawing attention to internal divisions within the state leadership and population, and exposing demographic problems and other domestic difficulties that make the state look weak.

In our case study, there are stories about Swedish authorities losing control of migration and crime, thus manifesting how the country is caught in a downward spiral. There are also stories exposing Sweden’s economic, demographic and military vulnerabilities, and its lack of friends and allies. The strategy of destruction can for instance be seen in the numerous stories of a disempowered Sweden in chaos, with seemingly helpless and passive politicians standing by, witnessing the downfall of the formerly strong Swedish state. These stories expose the government’s lack of control and capacity to govern. Yet, it can also be seen in stories on polarization that depict Sweden as a state that is divided internally and in conflict with the external world. Such story telling hardly makes Sweden look like a reliable and valuable ally.

Third, direction is about leading the other away from ‘bad’ towards ‘good’ behaviour. Direction through (implicit) inducements is a strategy of guiding the other away from an undesired posture, policy or behaviour, towards a preferred one through ‘carrots’ rather than ‘sticks’. In Jakobsen’s (2016) work on coercive diplomacy, inducements are part of state/military strategy when persuading an adversary across the entire scale from diplomacy to the use of limited force. We suggest that, in strategic narration, tacit inducements are used to direct readers away from negative behaviour and to stimulate good behaviour. Readers are portrayed favourably in relation to behaviour that the narrator endorses, and vice versa. Behaviour beneficial to the narrator is played up, whereas negative behaviour is ignored, played down or criticized.

In our example, the tendency to apply direction through inducements is easily recognizable in 2014–2015 through recognition of Swedish actions and policies that benefit Russia. Later, the narrator employs a more intricate mix of ‘sticks’ and ‘carrots’, criticizing or belittling Swedish actions, yet sometimes with openings for alternative futures and goals beyond the horizon, thus encouraging Sweden to take a different path. Importantly, the diverging subplot, mentioned above, about the possibility of change, opens up the prospect of incursions, i.e. any ‘inducement direction’ efforts to direct Sweden onto the right path. Stories of alternative futures include highlighting possibilities of co-operation with Russia as well as the positive potential of the SD gaining political power.

Conclusion

Scholars have demonstrated how Russian state-backed media agencies denigrate politicians, politics and societies in Europe or the US, but also how individuals (Khaldarova and Pantti, 2016; Szostek, 2018) and Western news agencies (Watanabe, 2017) contribute to reproducing Russian government-backed narratives. Against this background, it seems essential to expose how antagonistic narratives can be constructed.

The following research question was posed: What specific strategies do states and other actors use when telling stories about the ‘other’ for their own gain, and to the detriment of the narrated? Our specific addendum to strategic narrative theory and research on use of information for antagonistic purposes is the exposure of three techniques in strategic narration with antagonistic intent: suppression, destruction and direction. Our results thus suggest that strategic narratives can be used to alter the status of security actors in the international arena; they can also be used to destroy capabilities and try to direct the other towards ‘better’ behaviour.

We have demonstrated how narrative analysis can be useful for the purpose of dissecting antagonistic narration. This article has generated an approach for analysing antagonistic strategic narratives, thus providing methodological generalizability (see Bacon, 2012: 783). Most previous research on strategic narratives lacks ambitions towards generalization. Manchester University’s project ‘Reframing Russia for the Global Mediasphere: From Cold War to “Information War”?’ holds the promise of generating more comprehensive knowledge on RT international broadcasting. At the time of writing, Yablokov’s (2015) research on RT’s broadcasting is a valuable exception that aims towards generalization, but it is limited to the study of one single technique, namely the use of anti-Western conspiracy theories. Our article proposes the prevalence of three more overarching strategies that may or may not include the use of conspiracy theories and other specific techniques.

Mapping the narrative of one single media agency, this analysis is somewhat limited. There might be subplots and nuances in other government-backed media outlets that it fails to capture. This is less problematic since, as we argued above, we do not aim to capture the government-backed narrative on Sweden in its entirety. Rather, we use our results to distinguish overarching strategies that can be used in antagonistic narration. That said, our results converge very closely with the results of previous research on Russian state-backed media discourse. Ramsay and Robertshaw’s (2019: 7) extensive analysis of a very large number of RT and Sputnik articles in 2017 and 2018 also identify political dysfunction as a key narrative in RT and Sputnik reporting on Western countries, including Sweden. Their analysis also showed that the reporting on Sweden was extremely narrowly focused and that immigration and cultural tensions were a particularly strong theme in the reporting. Other studies confirm the heavily negative framing of Sweden in RT’s and Sputnik’s reporting, with a particularly strong focus on immigration, Islamization and crime, above all sexual crime (Colliver et al., 2018: 14).

However, future research needs to uncover the degree to which states and other actors employ the three strategies identified in our exploratory case study. Narrators may apply additional strategies but we suggest that suppression, destruction and direction are likely to be widely used because they reflect basic driving forces in the security sphere: status seeking, maximizing of capabilities through the destruction of the other’s capabilities and the drive to exert influence on others. Moreover, they are likely to be useful for narrators since they can be exploited for a range of purposes. For example, suppression and destruction can be used mainly to destroy a state’s reputation as a reliable or worthy partner, thus undermining a military alliance, or they can be used to polarize a society internally, making it ungovernable and weak. Direction, in turn, constitutes an ad-hoc pragmatic strategy that can be employed to steer the opponent in any direction that the narrator finds suitable.

We have accomplished conceptual development within the field of strategic narratives by crafting analytical tools in the shape of three strategies. These should be useful in inspiring and guiding future empirical analyses on antagonistic strategic narration. Future research needs to determine how typical the strategies are (including in other Russian media outlets) and whether there are additional ones in use. Similarly, there is a need for future studies of variation and convergence in antagonistic strategic narration. This article identified a very consistent story of a Sweden in decline, with a broad range of subplots working together to make up a strong main narrative. Do other media outlets or actors project equally comprehensive antagonistic strategic narratives and do they use the same strategies?

Additional research is also required to expose the political consequences of the systematic denigration of the ‘other’ in international relations. Will victims of antagonistic strategic narration restrict themselves to narrating the self more favourably in order to minimize the damage done, or will they ‘talk back’, narrating the other in equally negative ways? Given the vast potential of the modern media ecology with the wide availability of new and social media, this could exacerbate tensions in the global security sphere. Empirical research is required to resolve these and additional dilemmas in view of the destructive capacity of strategic narration.