Introduction

This chapter discusses education as a central value in the life of one family in the Grand Duchy of Finland at the end of the nineteenth century. By analysing the life and choices of a widowed mother and her son, the chapter sheds light on the role of education as a means of social differentiation in a modernising society.

In this chapter, social differentiation is connected to the birth of new intermediate social groups—the middle classes—that emerged in Western European societies in the wake of industrialisation, urbanisation, professionalisation, democratisation, and the rise of meritocracy from the eighteenth century onwards (Blackbourn 1991; Kocka 1993). In this context, Finland was a latecomer: the boundaries of the Finnish middle class were still undefined in the late nineteenth century, which provided the members of the above-mentioned family and their contemporaries with opportunities for social advancement into and within this emerging middle class.

The new middle class was not a homogeneous entity. In terms of social differentiation within the Finnish middle class, the most crucial factor was education. While the lower strata of the Finnish middle class consisted of prosperous freeholder peasants, artisans, the petty bourgeoisie of the cities, and lower-ranking white-collar employees, the upper layer of the middle class was composed of wealthier entrepreneurs and individuals with higher education: grammar school teachers, doctors, lawyers, priests, and upper-ranking officials (Haapala 1995, 97–122).

In earlier research, the educated upper strata of the Finnish middle class are referred to as the rising intelligentsia. This group was ‘rising’ in relation to the old aristocratic elite, a Swedish-speaking group with roots dating to the Swedish period of Finland’s history (Häggman 1994). The emergence of the rising intelligentsia indicates that the socio-economic importance of education and professionalisation was increasing in society; the members of the rising intelligentsia were able to acquire prominent positions in society despite not being part of the old elite.

The developments in Finland differed from those generally manifesting in Eastern Europe, for example. Jürgen Kocka (1993, 23–24) has pointed out that education was not given particular prominence in Eastern Europe because educated people generally had no access to the higher levels of administration due to foreign domination. However, as a Grand Duchy within Imperial Russia, Finland had a relatively extensive autonomous status with a central administration, a state church, and a school system of its own. As there were prominent positions available within the Finnish institutions, having a good education was considered desirable, especially in the middle strata of society. This, in turn, accelerated the emergence of modern meritocracy in Finland.

In their article on inter-generational social mobility in nineteenth-century Sweden, Ineke Maas and Marco van Leeuwen (2002, 191) have suggested that the growing importance of education in society led to better opportunities for upper-class social groups to secure their hold on privileged positions. In Finland, the relationship between meritocracy and economic prosperity was crystallised in the way grammar schools became one of the gateways for the rising intelligentsia.

In most cases, the members of the rising intelligentsia received their professional qualifications at the Imperial Alexander University in Helsinki, which was the only university in the Grand Duchy. To be admitted to the university, one had to pass a matriculation examination. That, in turn, usually required a grammar school education. For most parents, putting their offspring into a grammar school was a significant financial investment.

Thus, for the rising intelligentsia, education was one means of distinguishing itself from the uneducated masses, who were considered brutal and simple. In addition, the rising intelligentsia sought to set itself apart from the old elite, which was regarded as old-fashioned and corrupt (Häggman 1994, 23–26). The desire to make this distinction was present in the social networking of the rising intelligentsia, as well as in the common values, ideologies, and traditions shared via these networks.

Pierre Bourdieu (1984) refers to education as cultural capital and social networking and shared values as social capital. These two forms of capital were interlinked: to maximise the benefits of having a good education, an individual was expected to make use of his/her social networks. In order to avoid inter-generational downward social mobility, he/she was expected to transfer the accumulated capital to the next generation (Häkkinen 2014, 31; Roos 1987).

The social capital of Finland’s rising intelligentsia resembled that of the German Bildungsbürgertum, the educated upper stratum of the German middle class. The Bildungsbürgertum sought to make a distinction vis-à-vis both the lower social strata and the old elite by employing a specific set of values, which included respect for scholarly pursuits; a positive attitude towards regular work and achievement; a propensity towards a rational lifestyle; a specific ideal of family life; and a specific appreciation of music, literature, and the arts (Kocka 1993, 6–8). These values were pivotal to Finland’s rising intelligentsia as well.

Moreover, Bildungsbürgertum gave rise to the idea of the German nation (Blackbourn 1991, 2–3). Similarly, the majority of Finland’s rising intelligentsia found its ideological home among the ranks of the nationalistic Fennoman movement. The roots of the movement were grounded in the perceived division between the old Swedish-speaking elite and the Finnish-speaking majority. The main objective of the movement was to improve the status of Finnish as the language of administration, education, and culture—and eventually to replace the old elite with a new, Finnish-speaking one. The language question was inseparable from the question of societal hegemony, which is why the Fennoman ideology appealed to the rising intelligentsia. The nationalistic movement provided the new group with the collective identity and shared worldview it otherwise lacked (Sulkunen 2004, 214–215).

The chief protagonists of this chapter are the widow of a city treasurer, Hanna Tamminen (b. 1854), and her eldest son, Yrjo Tamminen (b. 1882). They lived in Mikkeli, a small town in Southeastern Finland. I argue that although the family had their roots among freeholder peasants, they were able to advance into the ranks of the rising intelligentsia by accumulating cultural and social capital over three consecutive generations. The process was initiated by Hanna’s father Emanuel Hagelin, who cut loose from the traditional setting of his family by becoming a cantor and organist and allowing his daughter to attend the prominent Antell School for Girls in Mikkeli (Antell 1905, 87, 98; Jyväskylä Birth Records 1796–1832; Kuujo 1971, 393–397, 399; Mikkeli Communion Book 1859–1869). In 1878, Hanna married Juho Tamminen (b. 1843), a farmer’s son who had attended grammar school for four years (Mikkola 1983, 87; Luhanka Children’s Book 1839–1857). Thus, their marriage was a union of two individuals with a similar social status.1

Having a more extensive education than most of their contemporaries, the young couple stood on the threshold of the rising intelligentsia.

The chapter concentrates on the period of 1887–1900, which can be regarded as critical vis-à-vis the development of the social status of the family. First, I analyse how Hanna Tamminen’s commitment to her children’s education was manifested after the death of her husband in 1887. Second, I reveal how education as a family value was interwoven into the life and thought of her son, who matriculated at the Imperial Alexander University in 1900 (ML 1948, 478; Student Register 1817–1901). These questions are linked to a discussion of how the family tried to maximise its cultural capital by investing in social capital, such as the local networks of the rising intelligentsia and the habits typical of these networks.

Why select the life and choices of an ordinary middle-class family in the Grand Duchy of Finland as a subject of study? As Toril Moi has suggested, social capital is above all a matter of personal relations, which are variable and often contradictory by nature. The analysis ‘cannot remain on the level of generalities; it must engage with specific social institutions and practices, and it must show precisely how these factors influence the intellectual choices and strategies’ of an individual (Moi 1999, 295).

By discussing the lives of these individuals, it is possible to analyse the relationship between the structural preconditions for social advancement and the above-mentioned middle-class values that were used to support individual aspirations with regard to accumulating cultural and social capital. What makes the Finnish case particularly interesting is the pervasiveness of nationalistic ideology. I suggest that the method of legitimising individual aspirations with nationalistic ideology was typical not only of politicians, writers, artists, and association activists but also of ordinary middle-class people such as the Tamminens.

The life of the Tamminen family is first analysed through official documents and records kept by both secular and ecclesiastical authorities: communion books, census lists, and archival materials of the Mikkeli city administration and state poor relief officials. Contemporary newspapers and periodicals are also used where applicable. Second, the picture of the family is enhanced by analysing private material, such as diary entries written by Yrjo Tamminen in 1897–1900 and a series of discussions with Yrjo Tamminen’s daughter.5

The entries from Yrjo Tamminen’s diary offer a rare view into the thoughts and networks of a small-town grammar schoolboy. According to Eva Helen Ulvros (1996, 23–26, 32–33. See also Bloom 1996, 24–25; Makkonen 1996, 421; Leskelä-Kärki 2006, 422–426), letters and diaries were not necessarily regarded as private in the nineteenth century. Rather, they were easily shared with friends and family members. Yrjo’s diaries were not entirely private, either; he was in the habit of exchanging diaries with one of his friends on a regular basis. Moreover, he was also aware of the possibility that in the near or far future, a random person might read the diary entries. Although Yrjo did not like the latter prospect, he nevertheless took the trouble of contextualising some of the events he described to make them more understandable to the unknown reader. Obviously, the entries are not a window to his thoughts as they were but rather a way of finding out what things he regarded as both important and appropriate enough to be mentioned in a text that was bound to fall into other people’s hands.