Summary
On October 30, 1942, the Finnish police informed the Gestapo headquarters that they intended to hand over nine Jewish refugees to them in the coming days.
About a week later, only eight Jewish refugees were handed over to the Nazis.
Where did the ninth Jew go?Y?
The book was published this week in its digital version.
Chapter 6 - Religion or nationality?
"Sisu?" Heidi asked surprised, "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what you Finns mean."
She nodded her head and smiled.
"Unlike the Israelis," I continued, "you Finns are a fairly standard people. In your language you can find a single word that describes deep feelings or complex situations, and why is all this?"
"Why?"
"To save talking!"
"You're right," she laughed, "by the way, the snow dust, the one that erases your tracks, also has a name in Finnish."
"I'd be surprised if not," I laughed, "what do you call him?"
"This dust is a well-known phenomenon in the Arctic climate and is called Tuisku in Finnish. It's also a pretty common Finnish surname. There's even a famous pop star with that name."
"It turns out that even Jonas didn't take this Tuyesco into account. When the traces disappeared, only then did I begin to understand the magnitude of the trouble I was in."
I continued to excitedly describe what happened to me, the moments when I despaired and thought of giving up and the one when I remembered his Finnish base.
"It was the Siso that made me gather myself again and finally arrive at the cabin thanks to which I am here, alive and breathing."
"There are quite a few survival cabins scattered in the forests of Finland," she said, "you are the proof that the effort to preserve them is worth it."
I was silent and lost in thought for a while.
"Is there some tradition of riddle writings in these cabins?" I asked.
"I don't know about that. Why do you ask?"
"Because completely by chance I discovered there, in a hidden corner under the bed, a strange inscription engraved on the wooden wall."
"Strange address?" She looked at me with a puzzled look.
"Yes, a kind of code. I don't know if it's just a prank or something serious. I took a picture of her and I'm curious to find out what's behind it."
"I've never heard of this kind of inscription," she repeated, "Can I see the photograph?" a question.
"Of course," I replied, holding up the camera and showing her the picture.
She took her eyes off the road while driving and took a quick look.
"I can't see the details right now, but you're right. The address really looks like a cipher."
"Are you saying you've never seen anything like it before?"
"Not that I remember, but come to think of it, it might have something to do with the past of this place."
"Which past do you mean?"
"The area where we met is in the heart of the area of the battles that took place here in World War II. It may be somehow related to that war," she replied. "Do you know a little about the history of Finland from that time?"
"Not really. When we were talking in the photography group about the incessant wars in the Middle East, Jonas the guide mentioned the Winter War. Do you think this address is related to the battles that took place here?"
"It's certainly possible," she answered, "the Finnish army turned the road we met on into a death trap for the Soviet army in that war."
I kept silent and pondered what she said.
"Do you live here in the area?"
"I was born and raised in Sala, not far from where we met. This town played a central role in the battles that took place at the time in the Winter War. My grandfather participated in those battles and I grew up on the myth of that war. The more I was exposed to war stories as a child, the harder it was for me to understand the motives of humans to kill each other in futile wars. This is why I like to read and learn about the history of wars. There, perhaps, one can find the motives for the self-destruction towards which the human race tends."
She glanced at me, afraid she had gotten too excited.
"Very interesting," I said honestly, "did you study history or do you just like to read books?"
"I have a master's degree in history," she said proudly, "I studied at the Faculty of Philosophy, History and Science at the University of Helsinki."
"What do you do with two degrees in history?"
"I sell books," she laughed, "I have a bookstore in the center of Helsinki, in partnership with Tolia, my childhood friend. We found an excellent combination of hobby and livelihood."
"Is it possible to make a living selling books here in Finland?" I wondered.
"In Finland it is possible. Do you know that when a Finnish baby is born, its parents receive some books as part of the birth package?"
"are you serious?"
"Our education system encourages reading, and Finns read a lot. Reading has been part of Finnish culture for centuries," she said proudly.
"I thought the Jews were considered the people of the book."
"Apparently we deprived you of that title," she laughed, "since the mid-seventies of the last century, in Finland education is free from birth to university."
"Really? I didn't know that college education was free, but I do know that Finland occupies one of the top places in the world education rankings."
"In Finnish culture, education is one of the cornerstones," she said with an expression of satisfaction.
"The same can be said about Jewish culture. If I'm not mistaken, about a quarter of the Nobel Prize winners are Jews."
"How many Israelis won this prize?" a question.
"I don't remember exactly, but I think something like ten, just in the fields of literature, economics and chemistry, to win the Nobel Peace Prize."
"Were all the Israelis who won Jewish? There is not a single Christian or Muslim Israeli who won?" a question.
"Yes, all the Israelis who won the Nobel were Jews," I answered, noticing that my answer, for some reason, made her uncomfortable.
Heidi fell silent and lost in thought.
"Something is not so clear to me," she said, "why did you mention the Jewish and Israeli award winners, as if they were the same?"
"What do you mean?"
"Look, there are four Finnish Nobel Prize winners. I don't even know what their religion is, I didn't feel the need to find out and I didn't think it had anything to do with their Finnish nationality. Why is it different for you?"
I never thought about this matter and I was not prepared for this question. I was deep in thought and didn't answer right away.
"Perhaps because Judaism is not just a religion like Islam or Christianity," I said after a while, "Judaism is in a way exceptional. It is certainly a religion, but it is also a nation, while Israel is the nation state of the members of the Jewish religion."
"That's all well and good," she answered, "but why does the State of Israel link the religion of the majority of its citizens with their nationality? Does an Israeli citizen whose religion is Christian or Muslim have a different status?"
"Of course not! All citizens in Israel are equal," I said emphatically, "I think Israel's connection to the Jewish religion stems mainly from the circumstances of its establishment after the Holocaust. Israel is a state of refuge for the persecuted Jews, but it is of course also a democratic state, a state of all its citizens," I tried to explain.
"It's really unclear," she insisted, "after all, religious belief is a personal choice of each person and in a democracy this choice is free and is none of the business of the state or the rest of the citizens. How can a democratic state link religion and civil status. You have no separation between religion and state ?"
"It turns out not," I replied.
"And it doesn't create problems?"
"What kind of problems?"
"For example, on the issue of education. We started with that, didn't we?"
This conversation really sparked thoughts in me that I hadn't paid attention to before. She bombarded me with questions that I currently had no answers for.
"I have to think about it," I dodged, "but if I remember correctly, we started talking about the subject because of your bookstore. I know that in Israel, because of the screen culture, people, especially teenagers, have almost stopped reading books. It's much easier to sit on the couch and watch movies rather than reading."
"It's not just in Israel. It happens all over the world and here too, although to a lesser extent," she answered.
"Do you live in Helsinki?" I changed direction.
"Yes. I'm returning from a visit to my father's house. He lives in Salle. Seven years ago this week my grandfather passed away and since then, on the anniversary of his death, I've been visiting my father. In about two hours I have a flight from Brovaniemi to Helsinki."
"Does your father live alone?" She didn't mention her mother and that intrigued me.
"My parents separated many years ago and my father is the one who raised me with the help of my grandparents who lived near us. They both died in good health. I heard quite a few stories from them about that terrible war."
The sky grew even grayer and the woods on the sides of the road became dim.
"It will snow soon," she said, speeding up.
I looked at Heidi's beautiful face, I turned my gaze to the gray sky and then I understood the connection between the climate in which people grow up and live, and their character and way of thinking.