Shalzed Confronts Finnish Prime Minister Petteri Orpo About Land Mines

Anti-personnel land mines are inherently indiscriminate, harming soldiers and civilians alike. They continue to kill and maim innocent people long after conflicts end. In 1997, the Ottawa treaty was drafted to prohibit their use, and so far approximately 165 countries have joined. But recently Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland announced that they will leave the treaty, and now Finland is following suit.

Today, Shalzed catches up with Finnish Prime Minister Petteri Orpo to find out why he wants to weaken a successful arms treaty and bring back a type of weapon that kills at least 5000 innocent people a year. To read Shalzed’s biography, click here.

For most presidents and prime ministers, pulling up in a fancy black SUV is all about ego. But Orpo really needs his. Here in Ivalo, Finland, even in May there’s still enough snow on the ground that I wouldn’t hit the road in any car that doesn’t have extra-large tires and all-wheel drive.

He got out of the SUV and headed towards the main gate of the army base, where two guys wearing green berets and camouflage coats were waiting. I called his name and he waved. Orpo probably thought I was a bored citizen hoping for a selfie with the Prime Minister, now that it was a tad too warm for ice fishing and so there weren’t many ways in Ivalo to pass the time during the day. I unbuttoned my coat a bit to let him see the S on my chest. Since I was bundled up because of the freezing weather I could hardly blame him for not recognizing me.

“Shalzed?” Orpo asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I took the Overnight train from Helsinki to Rovaniemi, then three hours on a bus,” I told him. “I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights.”

“Then you should have come before April,” he said.

That’s right. Unfortunately, it’s hard to see the Northern Lights in May. If he had to pull out of the land mine treaty, why couldn’t he have at least done it a few months earlier? “Damn. Then I guess the only reason I came all the way to the Arctic Circle is you.”

“Sorry, I’m here for a meeting and to visit the troops.”

“Planning how to spread millions of tiny little undetectable land mines along the Russian border?”

Orpo waved a hand at me. “We have to defend our country.”

“If you don’t mind making vast swaths of your country unusable for the next few centuries and having to amputate the legs of any child, farmer, or tourist who happens to wander through.”

The SUV driver got out and walked over, probably wondering who I was and how I had the audacity to address the Prime Minister. Interesting the two guys by the gate didn’t budge. Maybe they were high-ranking officers, so standing around and looking important is all they knew how to do.

The driver said something to Orpo in Finnish, and Orpo shook his head. “Have you heard of technology?” he asked me. “Things have changed since the 90s. When they made the treaty mines stayed ready to explode forever. The new ones we’ll use are programmed to deactivate.”

As if technology was really going to solve this problem. “And what’s the failure rate?” I asked.

The driver sneered. “Less than one percent,” he said in heavily accented English. I wondered if Finland’s Prime Minister was now being transported by a lobbyist for the weapons industry. Maybe passed off to the public as a cost-cutting move.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m pretty good at math. If you put out a million mines, and one percent remain active, that means 10,000 will still be ready to explode on contact for let’s say the next hundred years. Would you be willing to hike through the area or let kids go play ball knowing that? And in real life the failure rate will be much higher than in the lab.”

“Are you paid by Putin?” The driver asked.

“No, and if you’re on the payroll of the weapons industry you might as well be fired,” I told him. “Anti- personnel mines don’t do any good. Soldiers with armor go right through. It’s just after the war civilians who suffer.” Most military people admit that minefields have limited strategic benefit that hardly justifies using them in light of the immense harm they cause. Drones and other more modern weapons are better.

“Thanks for your advice, General,” Orpo said. “By the way, are you planning to join our army and help on the front lines in case of a Russian invasion? If not I think I’ll listen to my soldiers, and they say minefields would be a significant deterrent.”

Something hard hit me on the shoulder, and I felt a cold spray against my face. I turned and saw the two men by the gate laughing. I wiped my face and saw snow all over my coat- they must have hit me with a snowball!

“What the hell?” I called.

Orpo and the driver burst out laughing too. “What happened to your superpowers?” Orpo asked.

“You not strong,” the driver said, putting his fists up like we were going to fight.

“If I still had superpowers I would. . .” I began. I was losing my temper. This is the new me, I reminded myself. No more getting angry and destroying things. Tempting as it feels, it doesn’t do any good.

“No one should have any complaints anyway,” Orpo told me. “So what if we’re withdrawing? We can do that with six months' notice, that’s what it says in the treaty.”

“Sure, sounds perfect,” I said back, not bothering to rein in my sarcasm. “Countries that don’t want to use landmines anyway join the convention, then quit the moment they change their mind. What a magnificent treaty. So effective.”

“This is the real world, Shalzed,” Orpo said. “You can’t ask countries to take risks with defense.”

“And here I thought the Ottawa treaty was to make clear that land mines pose such a great, never-ending danger to civilians that they should never be used, even for security.”

The two guys at the gate started walking my way. One had a snowball, while the other was holding a pair of handcuffs. I wondered where he got them from. And if he really thought regular handcuffs could hold me.

“This is a military base, not Times Square,” the one with the handcuffs called. “Get out!” He had an accent like he was from New York. That made sense because the U.S. just made a deal to station troops here too.

“Besides, the treaty was never really a success,” Orpo continued. “Yes, 165 countries joined it. But so what? The United States, Russia, China, and India didn’t, and by far those are the countries with the most mines.”

That’s true, but countries that did join the Ottawa convention still destroyed around 55 million mines from their own stockpiles. That had to be significant. “So maybe then we should just do nothing,” I suggested. “Since no arms control treaty is perfect let’s just forget international law altogether and have no limits on wars or weapons.” After all, that’s pretty much what he was saying.

The guy with the handcuffs put a hand on my shoulder, right where his friend hit me with the snowball. “Hey buddy, this ain’t Central Park where you can just hang around. If you’re a tourist go get some skis. Get out!”

“You’re taking us backwards, Orpo,” I said. “Dropping the treaty undermines everything we’ve accomplished with international law.”

“When international law stops Russia from taking over Ukraine let me know. Then we’ll talk,” he replied.

The guy with a hand on my shoulder gave me a shove, and I started walking away from the base. Before I turned towards the road I glanced over my shoulder and saw Orpo and the two military guys still by the gate. I picked up a handful of snow, compacted it in my hands, then threw a snowball right at the guy who had thrown one at me. It hit him right on his rear end. He turned around and glared, then slowly brushed off his coat.

The guy that had been holding the handcuffs asked Orpo something, and Orpo shook his head. Probably asking whether to come after me, and smart for Orpo not to let him. As they went through the gate I regretted not having also whipped a snowball at Orpo himself. Yes, I gave up using superpowers on people. But if he believes Finland can change its mind and bring back weapons, I don’t see how he can complain about me bending my rules to pelt him with some snow.

Discussion Questions:

1. Do countries have the right to use any weapons available to defend themselves, especially against unprovoked aggression? Must treaty obligations be followed even when a country fears its security is at stake?

2. The Ottawa Convention banning land mines contains a clause allowing governments that ratify the treaty to back out in the future. This makes sense, as circumstances, needs, and technology can change. Without this flexibility, countries might not be willing to sign the treaty. But if a treaty that aims to permanently ban a type of weapon lets countries back out and return to using that weapon if they feel they need to, is the treaty really worth the vast time and resources that went into it at all?