Suspicions can sometimes be justified

PERSPECTIVE

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By Antero Mukka
     
      My mother-in-law got a mobile phone one month ago. Evidently all her acquaintances already had such a contraption, and no one wanted to make expensive calls to a land-line phone.
      A tough training regimen ensued. Our son, who is in the second grade, was responsible for teaching his grandma after school. A crash course was provided at the kitchen table, but in the evening, she was still a bit lost even with the basics.
      "Is it locked now?" the student asked, pushing the buttons of the Nokia gadget with obvious insecurity.
     
Early on in the following week, my mother-in-law returned to Central Finland. Our phone rang the next day. The grandmother had been up all night, because the new mobile phone had been beeping with SMS messages received from her operator. She had received instructions on using a cheaper group of family numbers in several instalments.
      The new mobile customer was genuinely distressed. "What can I do? I do not dare to turn it off . . . And how could I know what to answer to the people at Sonera?"
      It seemed the whole mobile phone was just an unnecessary burden; she regretted the purchase. Besides, wasn’t her water bill too big just last week?
     
The relationship an old-timer, who has seen plenty in her day, has with the world around her – be it the phone company, building management or authorities – is characterised by suspicion laced with fear. There is power machinery somewhere that arranges things with its own good in mind, to the loss of the small individual.
      Growing old, rapid technological advancements, and not being on the same plane with authorities do not alleviate the situation, but the roots are to be found much deeper.
      My wife’s mother came from across the Eastern border after the war, from a Russian family. Her spoken Finnish has a bit of a buzz to it, and writing is clearly more difficult. That makes dealing even with the national pension institute rather complicated.
      Her male relatives, who eventually wound up in Sweden, hid in a hole in the ground over the winter in Laukaa during their escape. They feared being returned to the Soviet Union.
      My mother-in-law can still recall the days of her youth in the 1930s, which were weighed by the terror of Stalin.
     
My mother-in-law has now had half a century to get used to the living conditions in Finland. The Finnish experience of 28-year-old Georgian single mother Pati Portshkhidze was much shorter. The shopping trip of the group of around 50 Georgian women to Europe was cut short at the Vaalimaa border crossing. We were living the year 2005 at the time, the date was March 15th.
      Pati's first contact with the Finnish authorities is clearly etched into her mind. "I thought they were going to rape me. I wrenched myself free and ran back to the interview room, took some electric cable, wrapped it around my neck, and planned to hang myself", Portshkhidze later told Helsingin Sanomat.
      As a born and bred Finn, it is difficult to comprehend the threat posed by a Finnish frontier guard. What reason is there to fear that a civil servant would approach with the intent of hitting, let alone with plans to rape?
     
We Finns are characterised by an exceptionally strong faith in the actions of authorities. In polls that measure the attitudes of citizens, the people place the largest trust in the police and the armed forces. Also, Finland has repeatedly been found to be the world’s least corrupt country.
      So it was not a question of childish beliefs, but there is evidence to back the confidence. However, recent scandals have shaken the authority of the police, church, and the scientific world.
      The Frontier Guard also received a stain on its uniform. Investigations will most likely reveal whether any genuine misconduct occurred when the Georgian group was turned away from the border. Any such incidents require a rapid response.
      The frontier guards, praised to be the best in the world, must naturally have the opportunity to correct possible false allegations.
     
It is easy to grin at my mother-in-law’s antics. When you are in Finland, you can rely on your affairs being handled in the best possible manner. Our civil servants are there to serve the people.
      It is easy to forget that the Finnish society can also be viewed through a different kind of lens. The experience in life behind that lens – with its suspicions and wrong prejudices – is just as justified as our own unsuspecting attitude.
      For the authorities, the lack of confidence of the citizens poses a challenge. It does not, however, justify treating anyone inappropriately, not mother-in-laws or Georgians.
     
My mother-in-law last contacted us on Thursday. The post office had called to say that someone had set fire to a local mailbox. The top corner of one burned envelope revealed the name of the sender; the mail was intended for her grandchild, and contained a ten-euro note.
      The bank would reportedly return the sum as long as a corner was left of the burned note.
      However, my mother-in-law’s misgivings towards the system only received additional support. "Tell me where they dug up my phone number from?" she suddenly exclaimed. And she is worried, once again.
     
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 3.4.2005


Previously in HS International Edition:
  Parliamentary Ombudsman to conduct inquiry into treatment of Georgian women (5.4.2005)
  Finnish frontier guards deny all accusations of racism (4.4.2005)
  Vanhanen says further study could clear reputations of rejected Georgian women (1.4.2005)
  Suspicions of human trafficking stigmatise Georgian women (30.3.2005)
  Georgians flown to Tbilisi on Tuesday (23.3.2005)

ANTERO MUKKA / Helsingin Sanomat
antero.mukka@hs.fi