Translated by Moniheli. Previously published at https://www.nicehearts.com/in-english/ 24.11.2023

Violence against women is common in Finland and takes many forms. In this article, I consider why White Finland [1] has long been silent about the coercive control and honour-related violence experienced by immigrant girls and women from different ethnic minorities. 

My own thinking around this issue has been particularly stimulated by social activists Ujuni Ahmed and Sara Al Husaini, who have both written and spoken about the violence and control faced by girls and women of migrant backgrounds. The violence described by Ahmed [2] and Al Husaini [3] takes the form of restrictions on girls' and women's freedom, community norms and excessive demands, persecution, physical and psychological violence in intimate relationships, forced marriages and female genital mutilation.   

What is important in both women's descriptions is not only to highlight the many forms of violence, but also to point out how Finnish society has repeatedly looked the other way for years and kept silent on the subject. Mirroring the works and ideas of Ahmed and Al Husain, I consider what causes this silence and why it must end. 

Sensitivity 

For those of us who meet people from different backgrounds and minorities in our work, it is clear that we want to avoid making assumptions or generalisations based on, for example, the religion or origin of the person we meet. However, this well-intentioned sensitivity can backfire when it becomes our own fear of making mistakes and prevents us from intervening. 

We may avoid bringing up violence because we don't want the other person to think that we associate the possibility of violence with their cultural or religious background. So, we want to be "good people". However, in such cases we are only protecting ourselves from the possibility of negative feelings (the other person getting hurt), not the person we are interacting with who may be in need of support and help. 

There may be situations where we raise the issue of violence, even if it has not occurred. However, I ask: which is more damaging; the fact that I ask about violence "in vain" or the fact that a woman or girl who has experienced violence is not seen and heard, her experience is ignored, and she is left alone, without help? Sensitivity as a sensitivity to see and understand the vulnerabilities of different groups is desirable, but sensitivity as a timidity to intervene and act is damaging. 

Fear of increasing racism 

We know that sometimes the oppression experienced by minority women is used as a tool to express racist views, for example in public debate. However, fear of increasing racism is a poor reason not to participate in the debate. Firstly, talking about honour-related violence cannot be left to the people who have experienced it. Secondly, by remaining silent, we are giving space to those whose motive is not to improve the position of women, but to express racist opinions. 

Sometimes it is also argued that as white people we cannot speak for others and that by interfering with practices that do not apply to our own community we are engaging in colonialist power. However, I think that the participation of people from the majority in the debate does not have to mean taking space away from people from minorities themselves. It is possible to have a debate with a willingness to listen and learn. If we support human rights, we must be able to openly show our support for projects and actors against female genital mutilation, for example, instead of remaining silent because of the sensitivity of the issue. We need responsibility, we need alliance. 

The threat 

Does the fear of becoming a party to disputes between or within communities also prevent us from intervening and speaking out? We may wonder whether intervening in violence may pose a threat to ourselves. The threat of violence should always be taken seriously, and I do not wish to trivialise this. At the same time, however, we should be aware that people in the majority population are protected by many factors compared to vulnerable people - those girls and women who live in communities where, for example, honour-related violence occurs. 

We are protected by our position of power, sometimes by our position of authority. We are protected by the fact that we know how Finnish society works, we know its laws, we know our rights. The fact is that the threat to us is a fraction of what many people who have experienced violence face. Fear is human, but it does not justify leaving communities on their own to solve problems of violence. We should also recognise that within communities there is a range of thinking, opinions, resistance, and a desire to change harmful practices. We need to actively listen to these voices and engage in the debate.   

The silence must end 

The culture of white silence can be seen as one manifestation of structural racism: silence and turning a blind eye means not wanting to acknowledge the violence faced by women and girls from ethnic minorities. Silence is tacit acceptance. At its harshest, it means that we do not consider the violence experienced by girls and women of immigrant backgrounds as important as the violence experienced by white people. Without recognising and acknowledging this phenomenon, it is impossible to talk about it and impossible to fight it. Both Ahmed and Al Husaini ask in their books: what would happen if white girls' freedom were restricted in the same way as many girls in their communities are? Would it be possible for no adult or authority to intervene in cases of violence and coercion, or for a child to simply disappear from school for months or even years, if it were a white girl? 

It is also sad how our silence builds a wall between white people and visible minorities - even those who work for equality - when we need a united front to promote human rights and fight violence. Our reluctance to discuss the violence experienced by minority women sends a bad message: the equality agenda is already set and does not include human rights violations faced by minorities, such as female genital mutilation, coercive control or forced marriages. In her book, Sara Al Husaini rightly asks: 'Does the colour of my skin override my gender? Is my struggle not also feminism?" 

We cannot afford silence. Every act of violence against women and girls is too much. We must take responsibility for the human rights of every child, young person, and adult and for combating violence. We do not need to have ready answers on how to end the violence experienced by girls and women from minority communities in order to take action. We have a responsibility to ask, listen, investigate, learn, take seriously, engage in the conversation and be part of the change. 

[1] By White Finland, I mean people in the majority population who have the power to influence social practices and public debate: public officials, educators, researchers, experts, journalists, organizational workers, and many others. The author herself belongs to this group. 

[2] Ujuni Ahmed and Elina Hirvonen (2022) Tytöille, jotka ajattelevat olevansa yksin WSOY 

[3] Sara Al Husaini (2023) Huono tyttö. Otava 

UN Women's Orange Days campaign against violence against women ends on 10 December.