The Åland Islands

The Åland Islands are an autonomous province of Finland, and on 9 June they celebrate Självtyrelsedagen, or Åland Self-Governing Day: this is the anniversary of the first congregation of the regional government. While it’s not quite independence I thought it would fit the scope of this project because Självtyrelsedagen celebrates a recognition of a different group of citizens within the Finnish nation. Åland is, interestingly, a monolingual province—and the language isn’t Finnish. They speak Swedish in the Åland islands. Åland consists of the main island, Fasta Åland, and over 6,500 other skerries and islands. There is only one land border among the islands—the uninhabited islands of Märket is shared by the Åland and Sweden.

The islands belonged to Sweden for the period prior to 1809—before they came under the control of Imperial Russia. They became part of the Grand Duchy of Finland, the predecessor to the modern nation, while the region was still part of the Russian Empire. Early in the twentieth century, the Åland islanders worked towards the goal of having the islands ceded to Sweden—reportedly, over 95 percent of Åland’s adult population signed a petition for secession—but Finland wasn’t willing for this secession to take place. Instead, in 1920, the islands were granted extensive autonomy, which was reaffirmed when Finland entered the European Union.

As well as its own government, Åland has its own national flag—and it issues its own postal stamps too. (I have to admit, this project is making me want to restart the stamp collection I had as a child…)

It took some searching, but I found a poem by an Åland writer—Katarina Gäddnäs. I found the poem online here.



Finlandia II
— a polyphonic work for symphony orchestra, metal band and large choir

Through the darkness you must go, through the forests and the tarns’ black waters.
Through the sauna you must go, through the beer, the sausages, the birch twig whisks.
Through the drinking you must go, through the vomit and the knife-fights.
Through wood pulp, steelworks and telephones you must go.
Through November cities and the extinguished windows of the village shop.
Through Moomin Valley you must go, through symphony orchestras, opera and monster rock.
Through glass birds and bentwood furniture you must go,
through large-patterned fabrics and traditional knitwear.
Through vodka, reindeer hides and cloudberry liqueur you must make your way
Through tar-smelling jetties and glittering summer bays boulder fields, swamps and fells in their autumn tints you must go.
Through ski-jump slopes, hockey fields, running circuits you must go
Through jazz and tango festivals, light summer nights, bird migration times
Through elk-hunts and bear fever you must go.
Through all the languages we are silent in, you must go
Through the refugee camps, and the wars,
through the wars you must go.
Through hunger, famine and rationing
you must go as the ice-breakers go.
Through all the ages you must go ages that rest like earth’s primordial creases
in the faces of the old.
Through the children’s laughter and the games of playgrounds you must go.
Through the moss in the swamp you must go
Through the darkness, the forests and the tarns’ black waters.


— Katarina Gäddnäs
Translated by David McDuff