THE VOICE: Anna Kuhmunen on how Europe is failing its only Indigenous people

Anna Kuhmunen: Most people aren’t even aware there is an Indigenous group in Europe. They might have heard of “Lapland,” but that’s a colonized name. Calling us “Lappen” is offensive — it’s like the N-word for Black people. That term is used to belittle us. We use the word Sápmi for the land. As Sámi, we have long suffered from discrimination. We weren’t even allowed to build houses in Sweden until the late 1950s.

That’s shockingly recent. It’s crazy. I became a mother 12 years ago. Ever since my son was little, he’d say, “Mommy, I want to be a reindeer herder. I want to live with the reindeer.” But I fear that may no longer be possible for them. More and more mines are being built on Indigenous land. In Sweden, companies barely need to apply to start digging. Foreign investors are pouring in, hungry for iron, lithium, copper, gold, and silver. We also have the world’s lowest mineral fee — around 0.04%. And Sweden is in NATO now. That means they want to rebuild their army — with metals taken from Sámi land.

And then there are the windmills — all built on Indigenous land. No one cares whether it’s native territory or not. They just go in and take. And the ones who pay the price for the so-called green transition are the Indigenous peoples.

I’m not as nomadic as my grandparents, but I’m semi-nomadic. I live in the forest in winter, in the mountains in summer — always following the reindeer. Reindeer are like turtles or salmon. A mother will return to the exact spot where she was born to give birth. And we follow her. But now, the mines block those ancient routes. The reindeer can no longer migrate where the mines are located.

Climate change is making things worse. Winters are warm. It rains, then freezes. The snow turns to ice. Reindeer can’t dig through ice to find food; they are starving. You can officially apply for compensation — like farmers do during droughts. But that’s not a longterm solution.

That’s hard to answer. The government has always defined Sámi identity too narrowly. Only reindeer owners were officially counted, which is ridiculous. Many Sámi lived as hunters, fishers and craftsmen. The official statistics left out a huge part of our community.

Sweden didn’t want nomadic people. They forced us to settle. And if we tried to settle, we had to assimilate — become “Swedish.” In my grandparents’ generation, they were beaten and told they were a lesser race. Just like what happened to Native Americans or the Inuit. Some gave up their heritage voluntarily — not because they didn’t love their culture, but because life as a Sámi was just too hard.

My grandparents were born in the 1920s. When they were six or seven, they were taken from their families and sent to boarding schools that aimed to “reeducate” them. They weren’t allowed to speak our language and were taught they were inferior.

At that time, race biology was a big thing in Sweden. There was an institute in Uppsala that measured Sámi children naked, took photographs, analyzed their skull sizes — trying to “prove” that we were less evolved. They even dug up Sámi graves. We were called “rshort-heads,” accused of having brains too small to handle a roof over our heads or floor beneath our feet.

It was the same kind of pseudoscience the Nazis used on Jews — reducing us to stereotypes, trying to erase us. But Sweden never fully wiped us out. We were either supposed to be full time reindeer herders or to assimilate into the general public. The idea was that time would eventually erase us.

My parents were born in the 1950s. They were the first generation legally allowed to live in houses. Until then, Sámi families had to live in lavvu, like teepees. Some families sold their reindeer just to afford a house — so their children wouldn’t be taken. Others, like my grandparents, held on. I think they were incredibly strong.

I belong to the fighting generation. We’ve seen the injustice and refuse to stay silent. But still, we’re on the edge of losing everything. The land is shrinking, and the fight is growing. One side wants to exploit it for profit. The other wants to preserve it for future generations. There’s no gray area. Either you destroy it, or you protect it.

I share my story with the visitors who come here. I never wanted to go into tourism — it wasn’t my dream. But I had no choice. It’s the only way I can inform people about what’s happening. In Sweden, you can go through the entire school system and never learn a word about the Sámi.

Sometimes I get asked to participate in documentaries. I often say no. Because once you go public, the hate and threats are unbearable — not just for me, but for my family, too.

My son appeared in a short news clip once. He said something simple like: “I want to live like my ancestors, with the reindeer.” It aired on Swedish TV and was posted on Facebook. Within a day, I read the comments — and I couldn’t believe it. Grown adults telling a 12-year-old: “You should die. Stop throwing shit.” He didn’t even say anything political. But the internet trolls try to tear you down the moment you say “Protect the Earth.”

A surprising amount, actually. But, of course, less than before. The language is critical — especially singing, because this is how we tell our stories. Our singing is tied to shamanism, which was banned in the 1600s when the Swedish Church arrived. Practicing it could get you killed. Even in the 1990s, when I was a child, traditional Sámi singing was not allowed in church. Imagine that. Just thirty years ago.

Exactly! The world sees Sweden as a beacon of tolerance. But that makes it even more shocking when you realize how brutally it has treated — and still treats — its own Indigenous people.

Back in 1989, the ILO Convention 169 came into force — the only legally binding international agreement that protects the rights of Indigenous peoples. Sweden claimed they wanted to be leaders on it. They helped convince about 30 countries to sign. But did they sign it for us, the Sámi? No. Every four years the UN criticizes Sweden, even saying they’re violating human rights. And what does Sweden do? They respond with the same line: “ILO 169 isn’t suitable for the Sámi. We’re working on something better.”

Forty years later, they’re still “working on it” — while destroying 70% of the natural forest in our region for profit. You wouldn’t be allowed to do that in Germany anymore. Germans are far more advanced in how they think about nature.

Absolutely. It all happens in Europe, and hardly anyone knows. Sweden doesn’t want to open that Pandora’s box. It’s easy for them to hide it because we didn’t have a written language until about 40 years ago. But now we have filmmakers, writers, and musicians. The Sámi music scene is exploding. Our stories are being heard.

That we exist. Please know there’s Indigenous people in Europe. And we’re not just preserving culture, we’re protecting knowledge. Indigenous wisdom holds many answers to the challenges we face today. We know how to live with the land, not from it. And that’s key to surviving on this planet. We don’t need new technology. The knowledge is already here. We just need to listen.

Our people came partly from the East. Our language is related to Finnish, Estonian, Hungarian. Reindeer made it possible for us to survive here. We believe we made a pact with the reindeer 10,000 years ago to live side by side. They give us food and clothes. In return, we protect them. That promise is sacred. It gives me purpose. I don’t wake up wondering what I should do with my life. I know. I protect the reindeer and preserve the land for future generations. Not because it’s “my land” — no one ever truly owns land — but because it’s our duty to leave it intact. Even if the world doesn’t value reindeer, I do. I would die for them. And all I want is for my children to have the choice to also live the same life — if they want it.