Swedish wildlife protection laws were put to a unique test in Östersund this week, where church custodians turned unlikely wildlife rescuers. Their mission was to capture a protected bat, dubbed 'the burglary thief,' that had somehow wandered from its winter home in the bell tower into the cellar of Stora kyrkan.
The scene on Monday was one of quiet urgency. The church's head custodian, Anders Larsson, realized they faced a delicate situation. "We called the county administrative board immediately," Larsson explains. He describes the bat as a small, quiet intruder in the historic church's basement, a place more accustomed to storing hymn books than hosting wildlife. "They connected us with a bat expert who told us exactly how to proceed. These animals are fully protected, so we had to get it right."
This peaceful operation highlights Sweden's strict environmental codes. All 19 bat species found in the country are protected under the Environmental Code (Miljöbalken). It is illegal to kill, injure, or capture them, or to damage their roosts. Any action requires dispensation from the regional authority, Länsstyrelsen.
A Delicate Operation in a Historic Setting
Stora kyrkan, a dominant feature in Östersund's cityscape, is more than just a place of worship. Its bell tower has inadvertently become a seasonal sanctuary. Bats often use such structures for hibernation, finding the cool, dark, and undisturbed spaces ideal for their winter sleep. The custodians suspected this particular bat had simply taken a wrong turn, fluttering down from its tower roost into the church's lower levels.
"You handle it with care, and with respect," Larsson says of the capture process, guided by the expert from Länsstyrelsen. The method is non-invasive, typically involving gently guiding the animal into a soft container without causing it stress. After its brief basement adventure, the bat was carefully transported back up to the bell tower. The hope is that it will rejoin its colony and successfully sleep through the remaining winter months.
This incident is a microcosm of a wider European conservation story. Bat populations across the continent have faced steep declines. Habitat loss, pesticide use reducing insect prey, and disturbances to roosting sites have all taken a toll. Sweden's laws reflect a national commitment to reversing this trend, viewing each individual bat as important for the species' survival.
Why Sweden Protects Its Bats
For many, bats are creatures of mystery or mild fear. In Swedish culture, however, there's a strong undercurrent of respect for nature and all its inhabitants, codified in the principle of allemansrätten (the right of public access) which comes with a duty of care. The protection of bats isn't just bureaucratic; it's ecological. Bats are critical insect predators. A single bat can consume thousands of mosquitoes and midges in one night, providing a natural pest control service that benefits both ecosystems and human comfort during Swedish summers.
"Public education is key," says a wildlife biologist familiar with Nordic bat conservation, who preferred not to be named as they were not the direct consultant on this case. "Most conflicts arise from fear or misunderstanding. What the church custodians did in Östersund is a perfect example of correct procedure: call the experts, use non-lethal methods, and safely return the animal to an appropriate habitat. Coexistence is entirely possible, even in our churches and homes."
The expert emphasizes that if a bat is found in a living space, the goal is never to kill it. Instead, professionals use exclusion techniques—sealing entry points after the bats have left to hunt at dusk, ensuring they can't return but aren't trapped inside. Old buildings, especially in cities like Stockholm's Gamla Stan or in university towns like Uppsala and Lund, often host bat colonies in their attics and bell towers, living unseen alongside human activity.
The Guardians of Sweden's Environmental Code
The unsung heroes in this story are the regional Länsstyrelsen offices. They act as the enforcers and advisors for national environmental laws. When a protected animal causes a dilemma—be it a bat in a church, a moose on a road, or a bird nesting in a construction site—they are the first point of contact. Granting dispensation from protection laws is a serious step, taken only for reasons like public safety or essential research. Their guidance turns potentially harmful situations into successful conservation actions.
This system relies on public cooperation. The quick thinking of the Stora kyrkan custodians to make that initial call set the entire positive outcome in motion. It reflects a societal awareness where the default response to wildlife is to seek a solution that protects it, not remove it.
Beyond the Church Walls: A Cultural Mindset
This small drama in Östersund speaks to a larger Swedish relationship with nature. The concept of lagom (just the right amount) and balance extends to the environment. There is a widespread understanding that humans share space with other species, and that this comes with responsibilities. From the design of wildlife crossings on highways to the creation of urban green spaces that support biodiversity, the ethos is one of integration rather than domination.
Local festivals, like Midsummer, often carry a deep connection to the natural world. This ingrained respect makes the public more receptive to stories like the church bat rescue. It's seen not as a strange overreaction, but as a normal, responsible course of action.
As the days in Jämtland county slowly begin to lengthen, the rescued bat in Östersund's tower continues its hibernation, unaware of the minor stir it caused. For the church custodians, it was a Monday unlike any other. For conservationists, it's a reassuring sign that the systems in place are working on the ground.
The story of 'the burglary thief' bat is a quiet success. It shows that protecting a species isn't just about vast forests and national parks. It happens in the bell towers of our oldest buildings, through the informed actions of everyday people, guided by a culture and laws that choose careful rescue over simple removal. As Sweden continues to urbanize, will this mindful coexistence remain the standard? The hopeful answer, for now, is hanging quietly in a church tower in Östersund.