Rocky mountains adorned with lichen and moss stretch as far as the eye can see. There is not a single tree in sight. It is September 2024, and the wild grass is not yet covered with snow, but this is a frigid landscape, typical of the tundra. This isolated area in Norway’s northern Arctic is several dozen kilometres from the first settlements.
Roughly one hundred reindeer trot in a concentric circle. Sven (the name has been changed) stands with his gaze focused on the herd. The sixty-year-old twirls a white lasso above his head. A few seconds later, he throws it with his right hand in the direction of a young bull. A horn is caught on the first attempt. The gesture is precise and controlled, which is only natural: “I’ve been in contact with reindeer since I was very young. They’re a very important part of our traditions,” smiles Sven as he pulls the animal towards him. He is one of around 80,000 Sámi, Europe’s last recognized indigenous people.
Historically fishermen and hunters, most of the Sámi were once nomads, following the transhumance of their reindeer herds. “Today, almost all of us are sedentary and have adapted to the modern world,” laments Sven. Their ancestral lands are called “Sápmi”. This borderless Scandinavian territory stretches from northern Norway all the way to western Russia, via northern Sweden and Finland.
A people united beyond borders
The Sámi have enjoyed official cross-border recognition since 1986, with the creation of their flag. Swedish, Norwegian and Finnish laws recognise the Sámi as an “indigenous people”, although there is no internationally established definition of this term. There has been a Sámi parliament in Finland since 1973, in Norway since 1989 and in Sweden since 1993. In each country, the criteria for defining who is Sámi and drawing up the electoral register differ. Prior to these developments, the Sámi had long been discriminated against and subjected to oppressive racial policies.
Today, their territory remains subject to different laws depending on the state into which it extends. This is a situation that can prove problematic, particularly for the portion of Sámi who remain nomadic. The rules that govern hunting vary from one territory to another. Although public authorities and the EU are trying to stimulate cross-border cooperation to reduce these differences, the situation is still far from ideal.
Interesting article?
It was made possible by Voxeurop’s community. High-quality reporting and translation comes at a cost. To continue producing independent journalism, we need your support.
Subscribe or Donate
Recently, the war in Ukraine led to the isolation of almost 2,000 Sámi people. “Usually, there is a lot of cooperation across all borders. But since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, we’ve had to put our cooperation with the Sámi on the Russian side on hold. It’s a complicated situation, even though our people have never been at war with anyone,” explains Anja Márjá Nystø Keskitalo, head of the Saami Council, a non-governmental organization actively involved in political issues across the various states. But this is far from the only challenge facing the Sámi people as they strive to preserve their culture and way of life.
A degraded environment and way of life
In the Sámi languages, which consist of nine different dialects, there is no translation for the word “hate”, but there are over 300 words to describe different types of snow and snow cover. The Sámi have a very strong relationship with the nature that surrounds them. Yet today, only 10 percent of Sweden’s Sámi make their living from traditional reindeer herding. The same is true in other countries. Many supplement their income through handicrafts, tourism and fishing.
There are Sámi who are distinguished artists or intellectuals. However, unemployment remains high. Financial difficulties, on top of the degradation of their environment and – consequently – their working conditions, have led to rates of alcoholism, depressive symptoms and suicide that are well above average among these reindeer herders, especially younger people.
Sven, for his part, has worked with reindeers for over forty years, but “the impoverishment of our natural surroundings has reduced our income”, he explains. “So I went into entrepreneurship and tourism on the side, building on the knowledge I gained from reindeer herding. Now I’m concentrating on renting out rooms,” he says from behind the wheel of his car. After catching the reindeer this morning, he’s on his way home to Kiruna, a mining town that is symptomatic of the challenges faced by the Sámi people.
Kiruna, a mining town in the heart of the Sápmi territory
Sven lives in Sweden’s most northerly town, 200 kilometres north of the Arctic Circle. Kiruna is the seat of the country’s Sámi parliament. Two mountains dominate the view of Europe’s largest municipality: Luossavaara and Kiirunavaara, which today houses the world’s largest iron ore mine, in the south of the city. The train station welcomes travellers with bronze statues in honour of the miners who have worked there for generations. A town created because of the mine, but a mine that is gradually eating away at the same town: such is the paradox of Kiruna.
In 2004, this municipality of more than 20,000 inhabitants announced that a third of these people would have to relocate because of land subsidence caused by mining activity. The new town centre, three kilometres to the east, is due to be completed by 2035. As a result, here and there abandoned blocks contrast with the new centre, a mixture of cultural heritage buildings that are being gradually relocated, and more modern edifices. The deep red wood of the traditional houses stands out against the white of the snow in winter. “I wish these mines didn’t exist,” admits Sven, looking pensively out of the window. “Look, all these white houses will have to be moved soon…”
The discovery of Europe’s largest deposit of rare earths in Kiruna in January 2023 has only strengthened the case for exploiting these mines. “This is good news […] for Europe and the climate. […] It could become an important element for the essential raw materials needed for the ecological transition. We are facing a supply problem. Without mines, there are no electric cars,” declared Jan Moström, CEO of LKAB, the Swedish mining company behind the discovery.
Activity in this part of the mine will not begin for about twelve years, but the discovery could help Europe reduce its dependence on China, which is the world’s biggest producer, with 60 percent of the world’s rare earths. The deposit also happens to be located on traditional Sámi land.
In addition to the over-exploitation of rare earths and forests, the Arctic is warming four times faster than the rest of the planet. More and more wind turbines and hydroelectric power stations are also being installed in the heart of Sápmi territory, in the name of the green transition. These solutions, promoted by the European Union’s Green Deal, are putting additional pressure on the Sámi people. Is there a way to create and maintain some form of dialogue between the EU and the Sámi? An EU-funded project aims to give the Sámi a voice within the EU.
Building trust between the Sámi and the EU
In this context, the NGO Saami Council, in partnership with the Suoma Sámi Nuorat association, has received funding of just under one million euro for the “Filling the EU-Sápmi knowledge gaps” project in the cross-border region of north-east Finland, Upper Norrland in Sweden and parts of Norway. The aim is to build trust between the Sámi and the European Union, so that both can learn about each other.
The EU’s European Regional Development Fund has contributed over 60 percent of the total budget through the Interreg V-A Sweden-Finland-Norway (NORD) programme. “The idea is to bring the North, and the Sámi in particular, closer to the rest of the European Union,” explains a European Commission official. “This is a fundamental question, because it can be difficult to appreciate the distance between, say, the northern regions of Sweden and southern Sweden. This is roughly equivalent to the distance between Copenhagen in Denmark and Malaga in Spain! These northern regions are geographically very far apart. So it’s very important to bring them closer to other European citizens”.
First of all, the programme led to the creation of an EU-Sámi think-tank consisting of six Sámi experts from different social spheres. These experts discussed ways of strengthening ties between the Sámi and the EU. The strategy they proposed at the end of the project “is still used by our organisation in our relations with the EU”, enthuses the Saami Council.From January 2020 to June 2022, this project enabled around one hundred Sámi people to take courses and internships to understand how the European Union works.
“I took part in the project as an intern at the Saami Council, and was able to co-organise the third course on offer, the Sámi Advocacy and Diplomacy Course, and present it to the twenty-one young Sámi people and students who took part in the session”, explains Anja Márjá Nystø Keskitalo. Since completing her internship, she has been working full time for this organisation that fights for the political rights of the Sámi.
To the regret of Anja Márjá Nystø Keskitalo, who has a master’s degree in geography, the Covid-19 pandemic meant that several events had to be held online. “Fortunately, we were able to organise a few face-to-face events, and above all, we finished on a high note with the organisation of an EU-Sámi week in Brussels. It was a real success!”
‘Not enough room for everyone who wanted to participate’
From 20 to 22 June 2022, the EU-Sámi Week was organised in Brussels as part of the programme. “It was probably the first time that so many Sámi representatives had gathered in Brussels to discuss relations between the Sámi and the EU,” recalls Anja Márjá Nystø Keskitalo with a smile.
The aim of the event was to raise awareness among EU decision-makers of the need to include the Sámi people in the development of their policies. The programme included a networking platform for experts in regional and local development, through the prism of the Sámi people, as well as discussion sessions between Sámi and European Union representatives held within the European institutions, and exhibitions to showcase Sámi culture.
“We wanted this event to reach the highest possible levels of the European Union’s institutions, and I think we were able to let them know that we are here: we didn’t have enough room to accommodate everyone who wanted to participate. Among the researchers and EU officials present, we saw that there was a real interest in the subject,” says Anja with evident satisfaction. “Thanks to all these initiatives, we have been able to put our community on the European Union’s agenda!”
After the programme ended, the Saami Council noticed an increase in media attention for their cause. The NGO is also receiving more invitations to take part in conferences and research projects. “The seeds have been sown and we can already see the long-term reverberations of this project, but we have to continue to ensure that Europe is aware of the impact of its decisions on our people, and find a solution that meets our energy needs without violating our human rights. Our people must be able to continue to practise their subsistence activities in order to keep our culture and languages alive: without land, they too will die. It is our fundamental right to practise our culture”, concludes Anja, determined to continue defending the cause of Europe’s last indigenous people – her people.
This article is published as part of The Newsroom 27 journalism project, a partnership between Slate.fr and the European Commission. Twenty-seven young journalists from all over the European Union came together for twenty-seven days to draw up a panorama of the concrete actions of EU cohesion policy.
