Swedens

The 22-year-old scored two goals against Tunisia but had muted celebrations against the country of his father’s birth.

For a 22-year-old making his World Cup debut for Sweden, Yasin Ayari could only have dreamed of a better start to his introduction to the biggest showcase of football.

With a full-throttled volley into the top corner of Tunisia’s net just seven minutes into the first half of their Group H match in Monterrey, Ayari had opened the scoring for the Scandinavian side against their North African opponents.

The fresh-faced midfielder, though, did not revel in the moment as a young World Cup debutant might and instead chose to hold both his hands up before falling onto the ground in sujoud (Muslim act of prostration).

The reason? The deep Tunisian connection that runs in his blood, and one that could have seen him play for the opposition as late as four years ago.

Ayari is of North African heritage, with a Tunisian father and a Moroccan mother, but was born in Sweden. At 18 years of age, the promising footballer decided to represent the country of his own birth, rather than his parents’, and his father backed the decision.

“I wanted him to play for Sweden,” Azzouz Ayari told Swedish newspaper Aftonbladet, adding: “He should feel like he is giving back to the country that took care of him.”

Azzouz, who migrated to the Scandinavian country, revealed that his son was offered a place on the Tunisian side, but neither father nor son considered it an option.

Ayari began playing football at age seven on the youth side of his hometown club Rasunda, in Solna, before moving to Scandinavian football giants AIK, where he made his senior team debut in 2020.

The attacking midfielder was signed by English Premier League club Brighton & Hove Albion in 2023, making his Sweden national team debut in the same year.

Explaining his decision to wear the yellow and blue of Sweden instead of the red and white of Tunisia, Ayari said it was “only natural” to continue representing the country he had played for as a child.

When the World Cup 2026 draws were announced in December, the irony of playing against the country of his father’s heritage was not lost on Ayari.

“It was crazy that we ended up with them in our group,” he said.

The young talent was the standout player in Sweden’s thumping win over Tunisia, and he bookended their dominant performance with another scorching individual goal in the 95th minute.

Ayari found the ball at the edge of the Tunisian goal and sent it flying into the far corner to bag his second World Cup goal in his debut game.

This time, though, he did celebrate and soak in the applause of the jubilant Swedish crowd.

Imagine the Swedish landscape and a stereotypical scene of idyllic red cottages with white trim, foregrounded by a lake of glimmering blue, might spring to mind. Beyond perhaps, adding depth, lies a band of birch and spruce, and a midsummer view of wooded islands.

Now, add to this image the sight of two half-naked men lunging from a tiny sauna cabin into the cold shock of a lake. One screams. The other ducks his head under, pops up, shivers, then does it again. His skin has the pinkish tinge of salmon, but he’s smiling.

Those swimmers are my friend John and me (I’m the one grinning), and we’re quickly learning that the subversive joy of cold-water swimming – and stripping off in nature – are Swedish obsessions.

We’re on the first day on the Lelångenleden, a 112-mile (180km) cycle route of newly linked trails, which takes riders from the Bohuslän coast, north of Gothenburg, through the lakes of Dalsland and deep into the coniferous forests of Värmland, where the country is wilder still. The promise is traffic-free gravel roads and a segment that runs along the embankment of the discontinued Lelången railway, as well as a journey punctuated by stops in lake towns so charming they could easily be creations of Pippi Longstocking author Astrid Lindgren.

But we’re up for a sterner challenge than the recommended four-day itinerary. Our plan, researched and booked online using West Sweden Trails’ helpful planning tool, is to split the route into three sections of about 40 miles each and cycle for up to five hours a day. Along the way, we’ll be staying in quiet hotels and a campsite where the food is as important as the lake setting.

“You won’t be alone,” says Erik Josefsson, founder of the Dalsland Experience, the tour organiser and bike shop that rents us our gravel bikes and bikepacking gear – for the next three days, we’ll be living out of frame and saddle bags. “Why not?” I ask Josefsson, a little disgruntled. “Sorry, I meant to say there’s plenty of wildlife in the forests!” comes the reply.

West Sweden’s burgeoning cycling scene is largely thanks to the ambition of the regional tourist boards. Now in development, the Västkustleden will be a new national cycle path between Gothenburg and the Norwegian-Swedish border, while the 105-mile Ljungleden opens this month and links together two of Sweden’s most popular trails (the Kattegattleden in Gothenburg and the Ätradalsleden in Falköping). More and more Swedes want to spend their summers cycling, and the Lelångenleden – affordable, family-friendly and largely flat – is tipped to become the next top-tier trail.

We start in the coastal village of Uddevalla, overlooking the beaten metal blue of the Byfjorden, setting off from the Strandpromenaden, a beautiful seaside boardwalk below granite cliffs – a few years ago, it was named Sweden’s most beautiful road. Then, before we head north, a 15-minute detour takes us to Gustafsberg, Sweden’s oldest seaside resort, with a beach, a jetty, a colony of crimson-tinted bathhouses and a historic lido converted into a hostel.

After four hours in the saddle, the fully serviced eco-campsite at Ragnerud Lake, at the foot of the Kroppefjäll plateau in Färgelanda, is a welcome stop for our first night. We check in to a cosy red cabin, then take canoes out on the lake and enjoy a restorative sauna, before watching the sun’s glorious rays cresting the treetops as the light fades. There is a very special quiet and otherworldliness to Sweden in the late summer.

Overseeing this wilderness are campsite owners Linus Bergström and Marielle Örtengren, who grew up on the lake, and the location offers access to one of southern Sweden’s largest hiking destinations. On their doorstep is 200m years of geology and 80 miles of trails.

The campsite’s sustainable restaurant Ragnerud Kök showcases the gifts of the forest – mushrooms, lingonberries, dill flowers. We share plates of kroppkaka (boiled potato dumplings) with chanterelles and brown hazelnut butter, and beef with beetroot and mushroom cream. Then it’s lingonberry-poached pears with forest marmalade. “We hike, we pick mushrooms. Then there is the pure thrill of jumping into the cold lake,” says Linus. “We love the simplicity of the forest and the slow pace of life.”

On untamed gravel roads the next day, red waymarkers guide us to the Dalsland Canal, a system of natural lakes and locks connecting 157 miles of waterways, where cold water swimmers regularly strip off, leaving John looking sheepish. Our cycle route soon morphs into the canal towpath, and we pass a lock house turned summer cafe that’s selling waffles and ice-cream, and lock keeper’s cabins of stone, wood and iron, which can now be booked for overnight stays.

At the end of the 19th century, the variety of terrain – bristling forests, silent mountains, quivering lakes, almost alpine landscapes – prompted Prince Eugen of Sweden and Norway to describe Dalsland as a microcosm of his homeland. As a prominent landscape painter, the prince captured the soul of the place better than most, and his description fits the Sweden we wheel through. With more lakes than anywhere else in the country, our map shows hundreds of spreading fingers, with depths of inky blue.

We stop for the night in the former lumber town of Bengtsfors, checking in at First Hotel Bengtsfors before heading for dinner at Storgatan 19, a cocktail bar with a menu fit for a Tour de France winner. “Seasonality is vital,” co-owner Oliver Tveter tells us, and I order a lifetime-best skagen (prawn salad, but served on a potato pancake) and fallow deer with pickled pumpkin.

The woods around the town are so vast, breathing and beckoning that they can fool you into believing you are being followed, especially in the slanting, shifting early morning light. For all that, it’s not frightening, but a landscape that enlivens the senses. Often, there are roe deer running earnestly across the road – once, I brake hard to avoid a collision.

What’s more, there is a sense that time is not linear in Dalsland. When we cycle deeper into the dense coniferous forests on our last day, it is as if the clock has been wound back. The red barns and lonely church on Lake Västra Silen look like period pieces. When we surface again from the woods to arrive in a blaze of Lycra in the little mill town of Gustavsfors, we have to push onwards for our fika (social coffee break) as it’s Sunday and all the cafes are shut. Any thought of modern-day Sweden has largely been erased.

On our last afternoon, near journey’s end in Värmland, the gravel slowly welcomes us back into the 21st century. I had worried there wouldn’t be enough to do on our trip, but in the end there are so many interruptions – lakes that quiver like jelly, photo stops for elk signs, cold swims everywhere – that we have to clock-watch until the end.

As we reach the road to Årjäng, where our trip finishes, I gaze back and strange half-certainty comes to me. That I’ll return to west Sweden as soon as I can – maybe even on a bike.

The trip was provided by West Sweden tourist board. The Dalsland Experience organises guided and self-guided itineraries and rents gravel bikes and bikepacking gear. Itinerary planning information can be found at Lelångenleden. Ragnerud camping pitches from £20; cabins from £75. Doubles at First Hotel Bengtsfors from £96 B&B. Lock keepers’ cottages from £200

With the pan-European Future Combat Air System (FCAS), which is supposed to include a crewed New Generation Fighter (NGF) aircraft, mired in difficulty, Airbus has raised the possibility of teaming with Saab on the manned tactical component of it — the fighter. As well as France and Germany, Spain is a part of the pan-European FCAS as a junior partner, while Belgium has also joined it. The recent statements mark one of the clearest indications yet that Airbus is actively exploring post-FCAS alternatives, or, at the least, a major overhaul of the program’s structure.

Speaking on the sidelines of the Airbus Defense Summit at Airbus Defense & Space’s Manching site near Munich last week, that company’s CEO, Michael Schoellhorn, said that he was keen to cooperate with Sweden and Saab on a new fighter.

Schoellhorn’s words were provided in an exclusive interview by Johan Wendel, a reporter and analyst for the Swedish Dagens Industri financial newspaper.

At this point, it’s worth recalling that the FCAS nomenclature is also used by the British and Swedish future combat air initiatives. The British effort is now mainly known as the Global Combat Air Program (GCAP).

FCAS System of Systems

Noting that FCAS was in trouble in its current guise, he confirmed that Airbus has been in contact with both the Swedish and German governments on the issue, with “productive but confidential” discussions.

“We are open to a number of things. For Airbus, the crewed fighter aircraft is still an open question,” Schoellhorn told Dagens Industri, when asked if the company is considering developing a crewed fighter together with Saab.

The Airbus boss then reiterated that the company “will be involved in the development of a sixth-generation fighter aircraft.”

Schoellhorn recently visited Sweden and reflected that “Sweden and Saab are candidates with extensive expertise” in the field of fighter design and production. “We have difficulties that everyone knows about. That is why it is time to actively explore other options, which is what we are now doing,” he added, in reference to the FCAS program.

As TWZ only recently reported, questions around FCAS continue to grow.

For a long time, tensions have been evident within the FCAS program, with its two main partners, France and Germany, increasingly at odds. German defense officials are reportedly frustrated by what they see as disproportionate French demands for control and workshare in the project. For a while now, there have been reports that Germany is exploring alternative paths, including the possibility of separating itself from France within the program entirely.

Within France, Dassault CEO Éric Trappier recently declared the FCAS project dead if Airbus refuses to cooperate, while President Emmanuel Macron has made efforts to resuscitate the program.

Now, Sweden, with its position as a builder of tactical aircraft in the West, has emerged as a possible lifeline for FCAS, something that Schoellhorn acknowledged to Dagens Industri.

“We will be involved in the development of such an aircraft. The structure within FCAS could be improved. That could lead to two fighter aircraft within FCAS, or to another form of cooperation, and Sweden and Saab are candidates with extensive expertise in this field.”

When asked whether this was an Airbus tactic to put pressure on Dassault, Schöllhorn pointed to “many” previous cooperations between his company and Saab.

“We are not flirting,” he added. “We want to build sixth-generation fighter aircraft as soon as possible. I do not want to see sixth-generation fighter aircraft bought from the United States, as Europe did with the fifth generation.”

Here, he pointed to the growing customer base for the U.S.-made F-35 in Europe and the prospect that, in the future, the sixth-generation F-47 might also be offered for export in the region, although this might only be in a watered-down form.

Of course, GCAP, the British-led rival to FCAS, with the Tempest crewed fighter as its centerpiece, could be another option, but there are big questions surrounding the future of that program, too. As well as the United Kingdom, GCAP involves Italy and Japan.

“We must act now,” Schöllhorn said, to prevent Europe from looking beyond the pan-European FCAS for its next crewed fighter.

“If we are to have something that can be called sixth generation and that is airborne before the 2040s, we have to act now. We are waiting impatiently to see what the politicians will decide. If we are still in limbo at the end of the year, that would be very challenging,” Schöllhorn added.

As for GCAP, in which Sweden previously had a limited involvement, before stepping away from it, Schöllhorn also refused to rule out rolling the different projects together.

“GCAP is an existing alternative that could be considered,” he explained. “The defense industry submits proposals; the politicians decide what is to be done.”

Then there is the drone issue, or, more accurately, the Collaborative Combat Aircraft, or CCA, issue.

While cooperative projects to develop fighters and their surrounding ecosystems have floundered, CCAs, as a concept, have forged ahead.

“Everyone has seen the need for CCA. There is a European race underway to find the model for CCA in various European countries,” said Schöllhorn.

The Airbus CEO underlined the fact that the company is also developing combat drones and that future uncrewed fighters are part of the plan. “There will not be a one-size-fits-all solution,” Schöllhorn added. “Perhaps we should not all go into the same niche, such as air-to-ground. The goal is to deliver the versatility, but also the scale that Europe will need.”

Airbus and Kratos are already pitching the stealthy XQ-58A Valkyrie drone to Germany, and Airbus has also been working on a stealthy CCA-like concept of its own, known as Wingman. Meanwhile, Boeing Australia has teamed up with Rheinmetall, the largest arms manufacturer in Germany, to offer the MQ-28 Ghost Bat drone to the German military.

Once again, Sweden could provide a key partner to Airbus on CCA-type developments, whether part of a broader FCAS effort or separate.

As we have reported in the past, Sweden is also moving ahead with plans for a new-generation combat aircraft, with Saab undertaking continued conceptual studies for future fighter systems. However, it remains unclear if there will definitely be a crewed successor to the Swedish Air Force’s current Gripen fighter, or if the ongoing studies will lead to a combat air ‘ecosystem’ comprised of different types of drones. A combination of crewed and uncrewed platforms remains possible, too.

Interestingly, Schöllhorn also put forward the possibility of Airbus working alongside Sweden for the airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) segment, specifically Saab’s GlobalEye aircraft.

“If we were to join forces, we could be a very capable team that could contribute many future capabilities,” said Schöllhorn of this idea.

The CEO noted that a NATO procurement decision on its future AEW&C platform is currently under review. Meanwhile, France has chosen the GlobalEye to replace its E-3F Sentry Airborne Warning & Control System (AWACS) fleet.