Raggare

Swedish devotees of the 1950s, who celebrate the era’s culture and style through their choice of music, fashion and cars.

Writing recently for The Guardian, Conor Creighton reported:

In high summer, deep in the Swedish countryside, you could easily believe “Rebel Without a Cause” or “The Wild One” are being remade. The quiffs, classic cars and 1950s clothes aren’t for show, however. These people aren’t costumed extras, they are raggare, members of the largest pop-culture tribe in Sweden, and one of the most influential in Scandinavia.

According to Creighton, there are roughly half a million raggare in Sweden:

The first raggare would travel in convoy from one hick town to the next to beat lumps out of each other and ogle the women. There are still organised raggare brawls, but the movement is part of the mainstream now, its most visible manifestation the cheap 50s and 60s US cars theraggare still drive and the vintage clothes they wear.

Today’s raggare, Creighton said, are struggling to shake off an image inherited from the original raggare – who some saw as morally bankrupt mischief-makers. They are also seeking to ensure that they are not confused with gangs that call themselves raggare, despite not subscribing to the movement’s ideology. As Creighton noted:

That free use of the word has caused problems. Raggare get blamed when far-right gangs attack Gypsy camps and smuggle drugs. To outsiders, gangs in cars out drinking are all raggare. Not to the Burning Wheels [a raggare group from Arboga, in Sweden's south]. “We’re like craftsmen. The lifestyle is an art,” says Martin. “It’s not just drinking and driving fast. There’s responsibility with what we do.”

It’s funny how often the words respect and responsibility are used by a group who take their cues from music and films whose very purpose was to express rebellion.