This article was first published on my Substack web page here. I am reproducing it here for consistency.
Finlandia, a symphonic tone poem by Finnish composer and national hero Jean Sibelius (1865 – 1957) is a stirring piece of music. I first heard it at an event, Music in the Park, in Sydney’s Domain. The event, which features an extensive selection of classical music pieces, is an open concert. Everyone brings their fold-up chairs, dry white wine, cheese and crackers. Thousands of people attend. I went around about 1997-98.
When the Finlandia work was announced as the next in the repertoire for the night, an elderly upper-crust lady seated next to me exclaimed ‘oh, marvellous’. I thought she sounded like Dame Penelope Keith, the ultra-refined culturally sophisticated To the Manor Born Received Pronunciation accented lady (what used to be called the Queen’s English).
Behind me was a Turkish family, sipping wine from their esky which they brought for the open air concert. While I don’t speak Turkish, I can pick up the language: the words, tone and intonation are family to me. Each language has its particular characteristics that make it distinguishable. I thought, wow, another non-English speaking background (NESB) person who enjoys classical music, and in particular Finlandia.
Finlandia – national aspirations
Sibelius wrote this orchestral tableaux as a nationalist protest for Finnish independence from Tsarist Russia. Drawing from Finland’s nature and indomitable spirit, Finlandia is a stirring tribute to Finnish patriotism. Sibelius drew together Finnish folklore with inspiration from the natural environment to produce a masterpiece. He created an emotionally charged musical tapestry, reflecting his deep commitment to Finnish independence.
Sibelius himself, it should be noted, actually spoke Swedish as his birth language. He only learned Finnish much later in life. Sweden was the traditional occupying power in Finland, colonising the latter nation for hundreds of years. Swedish cultural influences persisted in Finland for decades, long after the Swedish empire itself was defeated.
This is not to impugn Sibelius’ character as a stooge of the Swedes, or anything like that. It is to simply reflect the fact that Finland’s independence was denied by Sweden for a long time. Finnish children grew up learning and speaking Swedish. Finnish culture had to break through institutional barriers. Yet, the two nations today enjoy friendly cooperation and mutual respect.
Sweden and Finland, longstanding historical adversaries, have put their differences aside, and constructed cooperative, friendly relations in the economic, industrial and cultural spheres. The same cannot be said for Finland’s relations with the historical adversary to its East, Russia.
It is true that Finland, economically and demographically, is a mouse compared to the giant that is Russia. The mouse has had to fight for its sovereignty; there is no question of that. Imperial Russia was indeed a prison house of nations for its subject non-Russian nationalities. Tsarist censorship and greater Russian national chauvinism permeated every aspect of life in royalist Imperial Russia.
It should be noted in this regard that Sweden, during its expansionist phase, did try to invade the Russian north, only to be defeated. This military defeat of the Swedish empire forced Stockholm to retreat, providing Finland with breathing space to assert its national aspirations. If you want further information on this point, read about the Battle of Poltava in July 1709.
After six centuries of rule by Sweden, Finland became a part of the Tsarist Russian empire in 1809. The Finns remained a subject people of Imperial Russia until 1918.
Finnish civil war, Karelia, the Winter War and the alliance with Nazi Germany
Let’s elaborate some relevant background here. Finland was given independence from Imperial Russia in the immediate aftermath of the 1917 Bolshevik revolution. This period marks the transition; Finland the victim now deployed its victimhood as a disguise for aggression.
Lenin and the Communist leadership accepted that non-Russian nationalities should have their independence. The Communist ideology inspired the abortive, short lived Red Finland experiment in 1918. Finnish workers established their own Soviet republic.
That experiment would be mercilessly crushed by an alliance of anticommunist privileged Finns, backed up by German troops. The Finnish ruling class, headed by General Carl Mannerheim, violently suppressed the Finnish workers, assisted in this undertaking by German light infantry, the Jaegers.
Ironically, Mannerheim had trained as an officer in Tsarist Russia.
The Finnish civil war established Mannerheim’s reputation as an able military commander, but also demonstrated his willingness to kill his fellow Finns, enabled by outside support. It was not the last time that Germans and Finns would fight together.
Mannerheim and the Helsinki government launched their own war of aggression, attempting to annex the territory of Karelia, along the Finnish-Soviet border. This was beyond the traditional borders of the Finnish nation.
Acquiring Karelia would have meant the easy encirclement of Leningrad, (today St. Petersburg). The Soviet administration was worried that a hostile foreign power could capture Leningrad, then the cradle of the Bolshevik revolution.
In 1939, with tensions increasing between Moscow and Berlin, the Kremlin was worried that Finland would be used as a staging post for launching German troops. Leningrad was close to the Finnish border. Moscow was concerned that with Finnish-controlled territory surrounding Leningrad, the latter could easily become encircled.
The 1939-40 Finnish-Soviet war, popularly known as the Winter War, pitted the smaller and militarily weaker Finland against the might of the Soviet Union. This war has its origins in the 1918-22 Karelian adventure; only this time, Helsinki had the strong economic and military backing of Nazi Germany.
The Finns inflicted heavy losses on the Soviet army. However, the Finns eventually lost, and had to cede even more territory than the Kremlin demanded prior to the war’s outbreak.
Helsinki, drawing on the legacy of Sibelius’ Finlandia, likes to portray itself as the underdog. It is true that Finland is dwarfed by its more militarily powerful neighbour to the East. However, even a chihuahua can bite, and it is easy to be an underdog when you have powerful German friends backing you.
There is no doubt that the Finnish ruling circles actively courted and allied themselves with Nazi Germany. This was done not out of anxieties about Moscow’s policies, but a deliberate strategy of building alliances with other aggressive capitalist European states.
Though Mannerheim insisted that Finland was not an ally of Nazi Germany, his government did everything it could to assist the Wehrmacht in its invasion of the USSR. Finland mined the waters in the USSR’s maritime territory, and allowed German forces to be deployed for an eventual attack on Leningrad.
Every war is not a purely defensive reaction to Kremlin conspiracies. Blaming Moscow for all of their problems, and recycling the victimhood narrative, is starting to wear thin. The Winter War, and the 1918-22 attempted annexation of Karelia, were not just defensive reactions, but aggressive manoeuvres intended to expand Finnish territory. Finland did wage an existential struggle for independence; that much is admirable.
I realise that diehard Finnish nationalists will strenuously object to my views, and that is fine. I cannot convince them of my viewpoint, but I think the wider readership will understand my perspective.
Not every military alliance and predatory endeavour can be cloaked in the mantle of national self-determination.