The interior minister asks me about my political views. I say I envision some kind of democratic fascism. I believe in democracy, but media manipulation and information control has rendered voters incapable of making informed decisions. He agrees, cites the Finnish plan to join NATO that has been crammed down the throat of the public. The minister calls my views simplistic but astute, and shares his own views. The minister waxes wistful.
Finland, not so long ago, he explains, was a paradise for the worker, the common man. Politics, like every other aspect of life, has been globalized. Finland once took care of its citizens. Education. Medical care. The poor. But in fact, all the way back to the post–Second World War days of Kekkonen, it was always a scam, just what it took to keep voters happy, not altruistic concern for the public welfare. The higher powers in government never really gave a damn. Now, the ideals are gone. The USSR fell and Socialist ideals died with them. Finland’s far left and Communists got old, tired, apathetic and greedy, and the pretense of a caring government evaporated. Now, like almost everywhere, it’s every man for himself.
He sighs, miffed. “The ranks of Real Finns,” he says, “are growing by leaps and bounds. They’re scaring the shit out of the other center and left parties with talk of leaving the EU, going back from the euro to the Finnish markka, their politics of hate, blaming the country’s social ills on foreigners. Those parties are suffering mass defections. Kokoomus is the party of the rich, and those who wish to be rich. The fear factor is the key to winning the election. Liberals, knowing they don’t stand a chance, will vote for Kokoomus, because it’s the best way to keep Real Finns out of office. There are seventeen parties. The more momentum Real Finns gain, the more it will pressure members of the other fifteen parties to vote for Kokoomus, out of simple terror. Any show of weakness by Real Finns might give voters hope and encourage them to vote for their party of choice.
“Real Finns, being the party of the common man, receive common donations, and not enough. Veikko Saukko had promised a million euros in campaign funds for Real Finns in early 2009, almost a year and a half ago, then reneged because the party’s anti-foreigner stance wasn’t strong enough. Saukko is a man given to temperamental mood swings, and in fact, he likes me,” the minister said. “I still hope to get him to come up with the promised cash.”
I take the envelope back out of his hand. “You want something from me. After we discuss it, we can discuss money.”
He wrapped his arms around himself, bunched himself up against the cold and laughed. “Most people fear me,” he said. “You couldn’t give a fuck less. Why is that?”
I shrug. “It’s not my nature.”
“I’ve found a truism in life,” he said. “People good at one thing tend to be good at others. You’ve proven yourself adroit in the assignments given you.”
I say nothing.
“Veikko Saukko began in the scandal-sheet business and has a great fondness for dirt.”
I laugh. “You want me to be minister of propaganda and start a hate rag?”
“Yes. And call it Be Happy.”
“What level of dirt?”
“Deep and evil left-wing gossip filth. An attack on Lisbet S?derlund’s character should dominate the first issue. A ‘Thank God that scourge of the nation is dead’ type of thing. Discredit leftists as Commies, fags, dopers, reprobates, nigger lovers. Fearmongering—armed blacks are organized, preparing to kill good, innocent, white God-fearing Finns—should be a major theme. Scatter it in with celeb skank to hide the purpose of the rag. It will impress the hell out of Saukko. Can you do that?”
I know just the guy, my old pal Jaakko Pahkala. “I can. I have to decide if I will. Tell me a couple things. Your guests, and I think they’re your cronies, are from various political parties. Why is that?”
“Mutual interest.”