Racism, repentance, and moral clarity
The controversy began when Miss Finland titleholder Ms Sarah Dzafce shared a social media post using a gesture widely recognised as mocking East Asians. After public criticism, the Miss Finland organisation withdrew her title, and Ms Dzafce later issued a public apology. The incident was then followed by several Perussuomalaiset politicians posting similar images in apparent protest or mockery, including Perussuomalaiset MP Mr Juho Eerola, Perussuomalaiset MP Ms Kaisa Garedew, and Finns Party MEP Mr Sebastian Tynkkynen, prompting criticism from other parties in government and renewed public debate about racism and responsibility in politics. Yle’s reporting provides the factual background and timeline: https://yle.fi/a/74-20199196, https://yle.fi/a/74-20199544, https://yle.fi/a/74-20199679
As someone of Asian heritage living in Finland, I have followed recent events with interest rather than outrage. Not because the actions in question were harmless, but because clarity matters more than emotional escalation.
What made the original act racist is neither complex nor debatable. It mocked people based solely on race. The gesture in question has a long and well-documented history as a way of ridiculing East Asians by caricaturing physical features. Intent does not erase effect. Had Ms Dzafce been just another woman on the street, this might have passed unnoticed, but given her public prominence and her official role as an international representative of Finland, the gesture carried wider symbolic weight.
Apologies, non-apologies, and why they matter
After the incident involving Ms Dzafce, what stood out was not the mistake itself but the response. After initially defending her actions, Ms Dzafce later issued a direct apology, acknowledged the harm caused, and took responsibility. That matters. Genuine apologies help mend relationships. They create space for learning and for rebuilding trust in a shared society.
I myself had been taught racist behaviour as a child. I treated these things as jokes and humour at the time, but as I matured I learned that they were racist and I learned to stop excusing my racism. Ms Dzafce is learning too, and of all the people involved in this incident, she seems to bear the least blame now.
In contrast, the response from Perussuomalaiset MP Mr Juho Eerola was a textbook non-apology. Expressing regret that people “felt offended” while refusing to name the act itself as racist does not de-escalate harm. It reinforces the perception that the underlying attitudes remain unchanged, and that what is obviously racism is merely a matter of someone else’s feelings.
The responses from Prime Minister Orpo and the Swedish People’s Party (RKP) were also disappointing. By choosing to describe the incident as “childish” rather than racist, they avoided moral clarity at precisely the moment it was required. Downplaying racism does not make it disappear; it blurs the line between right and wrong. Our leaders have failed us morally.
Patterns matter, not isolated slips
When a racist act occurs, the key question is not whether someone has ever made a mistake before. It is how they respond when their error is pointed out. It is not “childish” to do something wrong, but it is foolish not to learn and change your ways.
In recent years, there have been documented cases involving Perussuomalaiset MPs where statements were not merely controversial, but formally assessed by authorities or courts as crossing a line. In one case, Finns Party MP and deputy chair Mr Teemu Keskisarja made remarks about immigrants that the Finnish Equality Ombudsman explicitly stated met the legal criteria for racism, because they portrayed a group of people as inferior. In another case, Finns Party MP Mr Mauri Peltokangas was charged with incitement against an ethnic group over social media posts concerning refugees.
These cases are not cited to indict every member of a party. They matter because they reveal a recurring tendency to commit racist acts and then minimise or deflect, or even smugly wink to fellow racists when racism is named. Against that background, responses that avoid the word “racist” and substitute softer language do not reassure. They weaken the moral standing of our society.
Grace, repentance, and truth
As a Christian, I am not offended and not concerned with being offended. Scripture teaches patience and restraint. Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek, and Proverbs 19:11 reminds us that “a person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offence.”
Grace, however, does not mean moral blindness. The gospel itself is deeply offensive, because it tells every one of us that we are sinners in need of grace, not moral heroes (less so nationalist heroes) in need of validation. It humbles us by removing our right to self-justification.
When someone repeatedly refuses to repent, refuses to name wrong as wrong, and reframes harm as humour, then calling racism racism becomes an act of moral responsibility rather than an act of outrage. There are people who habitually and unrepentantly do evil things, and calling them what they are is not being offended, but truth.
Why this matters for society
Weak responses to clear racism do not neutralise it. They normalise it. When those in positions of authority blur the line, others feel emboldened to cross it again.
A society held together by trust requires both grace and truth. Lose either, and we will all pay the price.