Over twenty years abroad taught me to appreciate Finland; less than two years in Finland, and the Finns Party taught me to feel ashamed of my own roots.

The Finns Party and Finnish Maiden. (Created by ChatGTP)

I usually don’t get involved in politics, but this time I can’t just sit idly by.

In Finland, we are used to politics sometimes being as dry as crispbread without butter. However, recent events within the ranks of the Finns Party have shown that drama doesn’t require big words or decisions – sometimes a single gesture is enough.

The Sara Dfcace case (widely reported in the media) and the associated eye-rolling, which several MPs and even MEP Sebastian Tynkkynen seemed to endorse, was not a fleeting slip. It was a textbook example of how power, thoughtlessness, and digital reality collide.

Having lived and worked in Asia, this has been particularly difficult to watch. In international workplaces – especially in Asia – it is taken for granted that even a small gesture can have enormous consequences when the audience is global, and cameras are always on. In 2025, a politician doesn’t even need to say anything to make the news. A gesture alone is enough. In Finland, this reality still seems to surprise some decision-makers.

It’s tempting to downplay what happened and say it was “just a gesture.” Just eye-rolling. But in reality, it is a racist and disrespectful gesture, and in the digital world, a screenshot becomes a big headline and spreads instantly across international networks. The outrage is significant – and rightly so. This is a humiliating act widely perceived as racist, and it cannot be dismissed as a misunderstanding or humor or an excuse stating the intention of the gesture was not racist, it was, period.

I have recently been reflecting a lot on why a Finnish person might respond with hostility to another human being, especially an immigrant. I have a memory from the 80s: Relatives loudly criticized and insulted immigrants, yet a few weeks later, they traveled “south” on vacation. After the holiday, they raved about the local guy, Mehmet, who had been an amazing person. But woe to Mehmet, Ming, or anyone else from outside Finland who comes here – then the admiration and awesomeness stops right at that moment when you cross Finland's border. And by the looks of it, not much has changed since the 80s.

It is clear that hate speech, racism, and discrimination do not arise out of nothing. They often transfer subtly from one generation to the next: children and young people hear and internalize what is valued and what is condemned. This dynamic is exactly what politicians reinforce when they use rhetoric and decisions to represent or normalize discriminatory attitudes.

At four o’clock last this morning, I received a message from my Canadian friend: “What’s going on over there?” Earlier, my phone had buzzed with messages from Hong Kong and Thailand – countries where I lived and worked.

From abroad, the question is not about a single former beauty queen or MP. The question is about Finland. A single gesture can quickly become a story about an entire nation.

Parliament often elects ordinary people who genuinely care about our country. This time, however, individuals have been chosen whose inability to grasp the long-term consequences of their actions has become painfully obvious. Their behavior, given their position, has been disgraceful – not because mistakes shouldn’t be made, but because responsibility does not seem to be genuinely shouldered.

All of this has broader consequences than many seem to understand. Finland has significant economic interests and strong brands in Asia, including Finnair, Marimekko, and Kone, to name a few. Asian tourists, students, and professionals play an important role in Finland’s economy and labor market. What happens if Finland starts to appear as a country where racism is normalized even at the highest levels of power?

An even more serious question concerns the home front. What message does this send to children and young people of Asian descent in Finland? If MPs can make mocking and racist gestures without real consequences, why would schoolchildren restrain themselves? The behavior demonstrated in politics always trickles down.

The uncomfortable but necessary question remains: do those in power even understand the time we live in? In 2025, politics is not just about speeches in the Parliament chamber. It is a constant performance on a global stage, where the audience neither forgets nor applauds out of politeness.

Perhaps next time, before stretching their eyes, they could also extend the thought to responsibility. That would be a step toward a Finland whose passport could once again be carried with pride. Freedom of speech is not freedom to be irresponsible or racist. This normalization must end, and Parliament must develop a clearer understanding of what power and representation truly mean.