February 2011, I am sitting for lunch with my colleagues at University of Helsinki. It was shortly after president Mubarak of Egypt was deposed, as part of the events of the "Arab Spring".

I was initially surprised when one of the students suddenly asked me, if I am worried about what is going on in Egypt. In all my years as a researcher in the group, I have not publicly shown any interest in politics or current events. So I was clearly the target of that question because I originally come from Israel.

The exchange went as follows.

Student: "Are you worried about what is happening in Egypt?"

I: (trying first to avoid) "Why should I be?! I do not live in Egypt."

Student: (clearly not satisfied with this evasive reply) "What do you think is going to happen?"

I: (naively thinking there is genuine desire for an honest answer) "There will probably be some period of uncertainty, and then there will be a new 'Mubarak'."

Student: (clearly not satisfied with this reply either, and trying to bring it home) "But isn't it a good thing that democracy is spreading?"

I: (bursting into a short laugh before replying) "Is that what it is?! Democracy spreading?!"

Student: "Yes."

I: (hoping to end the conversation) "Ok, if you say so."

The conversation around the table then briefly turned into a general discussion about democracy and how rare and difficult thing it is to achieve, and then we moved on to other topics.

Needless to say my prediction was on the mark. So was my sardonic reaction. Morsi's government lasted barely a year, and Egypt is ruled by president Sisi since 2014. Syria, Yemen, and Libya descended into a decade of civil wars; some still going on .

That short exchange with the student encapsulates the attitudes of Finns towards individuals from Israel. First, you never get to be just a professional, or just a scientist, or just a researcher. You are always an immediate target for all their perceptions and "ideas" about the Middle East.

More importantly, while clearly talking out of their ass, Finns are sure they can educate you on the matter. Nor there is any desire for honest intelligent opinions. Only for feel-good reaffirmations of one's own dogmatist beliefs. Recall that this was at the University of Helsinki, where supposedly the top educated of Finland should be. Nonetheless, that exchange can be excused as mere ignorance and the usual sense of entitlement, by which natives treat foreigners. The following cannot.

In 2008, as a still young single gay man, who just moved to a new city and country, I quickly found my way to the gay dating scene in Helsinki. One of my first encounters was a teaching experience about Finns. It was clear from the onset that it is not going to work. But instead of just saying goodbye and parting ways, the guy started blurting some nonsense about "Palestine", right there in the middle of Rautatientori (central train station square in Helsinki). I waved him dismissively with my hand and quickly took a safe distance.

I had guys on dating sites (there was no Grindr back then) refusing to meet because I am Israeli. I was called "a filthy Jew" on a dating site. That was when I was still naive enough not to hide my identity on public profiles. In bars or clubs, I had guys making grouchy faces right in front of me, as soon as I had said that I was from Israel. Even after I had already lived for a decade in Finland and spoke Finnish with them. There is still more. But I will settle all the scores with the "rainbow" people of Finland in a different blog entry.

Whenever there is an act of violence against immigrants in Finland, like the recent stabbing in Oulu, the mediocre politicians that run this place wake up for a couple of days, concocting one or another 'campaign against racism'. Politicians from Vasemistoliitto (The Left Alliance) have made a career by faking rage over blatantly racist posts on social media. But most racism in Finland is much more quiet and mundane.

For example, when in the middle of a conversation about opening a bank account, a bank manager suddenly asks, without warning, "Are you Jewish?". And even after you answer that you do not practice religion, she does not let go of the matter. "But you were born to a Jewish family", she continues, and keeps on blabbering for several minutes. Needless to say, you do not get to open a bank account there.

At some point you just increasingly limit yourself to only necessary business-like interactions, and avoid "superfluous" social interactions altogether. You especially avoid answering the most dreaded question of "where are you from?" . What's the point, when anyhow it gonna start off on the wrong foot and with a grouchy face.

But the most unkindest cut of all, to quote evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould, who, in turn, quoted the Bard Eternal, was my visit to the University of Jyväskylä in 2011. As this affected my professional life, not only my private one. As a postdoctoral researcher from the University of Helsinki, I came to give a talk and meet the people of the department, as is customary on such visits. I was already living in Finland for almost three years at that time. My designated host was a foreigner (non-Finnish) doctoral or postdoc researcher.

Already as I was giving my talk, I felt a sense of hostility. After my talk, no one asked any question or came to talk science. Nor did I get to visit any of the labs, meet with any of the researchers, or talk with any of the students, as is, again, customary on such visits. I met only one researcher, with whom I shared an American colleague, and have been in contact by email. Also not at her lab, but at some far away coffee shop. I was told that there is dinner scheduled for the evening. But I could already see where this was going.

So I was not surprised that only my designated (non-Finnish) host participated. He was apparently surprised that no one came, and I will give him the benefit of the doubt that his surprise was genuine. As the "dinner" progressed, I was practically told to my face that indeed the reason for this bizarre behavior was my national background. Obviously, Israel-Palestine came up in the conversation, and towards the end, perhaps out of eventual shame, my host mumbled several times, half to himself, "funny how wrong you can be about people", or something to that effect.

I was very happy to leave Jyväskylä that evening. But I have never forgotten, or forgiven. I can imagine how, following the scheduling of my visit, the chief antisemite, student or researcher, at the department there, was advocating "boycott" under the guise of "activism". Since I was at the time already three years at the university of Helsinki, that "boycott" was not based on affiliation to institution or country. It was completely based on my national and ethnic identity. I wonder how that is called in Finland.

The events described above happened between 2008 and 2018. So way before this most recent conflict. That demonstrates how systemic and entrenched antisemitism is in Finland. There are several reasons for that. First, Europeans really don't need a reason to be antisemitic. Even after the Holocaust, they cannot get over their fetish with "the Jews".

Secondly, Finland, specifically, is a nation that went from civil war, to a personality cult of "Suomen marsalkka" (president Manneriheim), to being practically ruled by an autocrat (president Kekkonen) for almost the entire duration of the cold war, until the early 1980s. So there is really no tradition of western liberalism and liberal democracy in Finland. That leads to a great many Finns, including many politicians here, being incapable of distinguishing between governments or nations and individuals.

Thirdly, Finland was practically a vassal state of the Soviet Union for almost 50 years. That means that the style of Soviet state media has stuck to Finnish media, and that Soviet antisemitism and hostility to Israel, and Israelis, have infected all sectors of society. Particularly, Finnish media, academia and "intelligentsia".

This is the first of several blog entries I am going to write on the subject of antisemitism in Finland. With experience spanning almost 17 years, my patience with the dogmas and lies Finns tell both themselves and the world is truly at an end. I have no illusions that it would make any difference. Soviet societies stick to their dogmas till the bitter end. But I will, at least, expose the charade of this "happiest" "least corrupt" place.