By Jay
Nordlinger
Wednesday,
January 03, 2018
Note: Below is
an expanded version of a report National Review published in its December 18, 2017, issue.
‘An
American journalist has come to Sweden to report on our defense,” says an
eminent Swede, long involved in foreign affairs. “I can’t tell whether this is
good news or bad news.” It’s both, actually. The bad news is that Sweden faces,
once more, a threat from Moscow. The good news is that they are responding —
however haltingly or inadequately.
“Step by
step,” says the defense minister, Peter Hultqvist. “Step by step, we are
developing our military capability.” (He might say redeveloping.) Sweden is adjusting to the new realities of the
region.
What
region? Scandinavia? Sweden is indeed a Scandinavian country, along with its
western neighbors, Norway and Denmark. Unlike
them, Sweden is also a Baltic state, in a way: a Baltic Sea state. Its
orientation has always been eastward. Russia-ward.
Sweden
is known as a “peace nation,” and not without reason. For hundreds of years,
Sweden knew little but war. But for the last 200 years, there has been no war —
not since 1814, when Sweden fought with the Norwegians.
There
are people who attribute this peaceful condition to Sweden’s tradition of
neutrality and nonalignment. In truth, they should attribute it to “pure luck,”
says Katarina Tracz, the director of the Stockholm Free World Forum.
All
three Scandinavian states were lucky enough to stay out of World War I. Only
Sweden was lucky in World War II — Germany invaded Norway and Denmark, not
them.
During
the Cold War, Sweden had a serious military: a half a million men under arms,
some 350 fighter jets, and so on. “Quite impressive for such a small country,”
as Karlis Neretnieks says. He is a Swedish retired general, and a defense
intellectual. He goes on to say that Sweden is a small country in population:
just under 10 million today. Yet it is large in size — larger than Germany
(which has 83 million people). The larger the country, of course, the more
there is to defend.
In
addition to an impressive military, Sweden had an impressive civil defense
during the Cold War. A really
impressive one. Virtually every man, woman, and child — and every municipality
and industry — had a job to do in case of war. And they trained for it. This
was known as the “total defense system.”
Officially,
Sweden was neutral as between East and West — between the Warsaw Pact and NATO.
Unofficially, they worked hand in glove with NATO, and in particular with the
alliance’s leading partner, the United States.
Was this
true even during the premierships of Olof Palme, the notorious lefty? (He
served in the first half of the ’70s and again during the mid-1980s.) Oh, yes.
On the public stage, he blasted Uncle Sam, over and over. Offstage, he told his
military commanders: “Clutch the Americans close.” Also, Sweden maintained a
very robust defense during his premierships. This is a paradox of his career.
When the
Cold War finally ended, many countries took a “holiday from history.” Many
countries indulged in a “peace dividend.” Sweden overindulged. They simply
gutted their military. The army went from 500,000 to 15,000. The civil-defense
system was abolished. The purpose of the military would no longer be the
defense of the country: It would be occasional participation in international
peacekeeping operations.
“We
concluded that nothing nasty could happen here in Sweden,” says General
Neretnieks — “not in the foreseeable future and not ever, more or less.”
A couple
of decades passed, fairly uneventfully. And then? “Then Putin happened,” as
Katarina Tracz puts it, with perfect succinctness. She is alluding to Vladimir
Putin’s actions in Ukraine in 2014. Yet, as she also says, Putin had been
“happening” all along.
In 2007,
the Kremlin launched its cyberattacks on Estonia. In following years, there was
further harassment of the Baltic republics, in the form of buzzing planes and
the like. Then came what is known in Sweden as “the Russian Easter.”
Actually,
it was Good Friday, in 2013. On that day, Russia rehearsed strikes on Sweden.
These strikes were later revealed to be nuclear strikes. And Sweden had no
pilots scrambling up to meet the Russian planes. Instead, NATO planes, from the
Baltic Air Patrol, had to do it. This was embarrassing to Sweden.
Three
months earlier, the chief of the Swedish armed forces, Sverker Göranson, made a
statement. He said that Sweden had the means to defend part of the country —
only part of the country — for a week. And that was it. This gave the nation a
jolt.
But the
real jolt came in 2014, when Putin annexed the Crimea and started war in
eastern Ukraine. Swedish minds were seriously concentrated, as was every other
mind around the region. As Neretnieks says, suddenly peacekeeping operations in
Africa did not seem so important.
Sweden
upped its defense spending, putting a stop to years of decline. They moved
troops back to their big island in the Baltic, Gotland. This island is
strategically key. Swedish troops had not been permanently based there since
2005.
In the summer
of 2016, they entered into a joint defense pact with the United States. The
U.S. defense secretary at the time, Ash Carter, spoke of America’s greater
spending in eastern Europe: “We haven’t had to worry about this for 25 years,
and while I wish it were otherwise, now we do.”
Sweden
had military conscription from 1901 to 2010. They have now reinstated it, if in
modest form. Also, they staged a “contingency week,” in which Swedish
localities were reintroduced to the idea of civil defense, or a modicum of
preparedness.
Defense
relations with the Finns have been strengthened. The Finns have always been
alert to the Russians, by whom they have been invaded and with whom they share
a border of more than 800 miles. Swedes and Finns speak of “Nordic solidarity.”
Whether this phrase is more than rhetoric is hard to know.
In
September, Sweden conducted its biggest military exercise in 23 years: “Aurora
17,” it was called. (The number refers to the year, 2017.) The exercise lasted
for three weeks. Swedish troops trained alongside U.S. and other NATO troops.
The government in Stockholm said — almost touchingly — “The overarching mission
of the Swedish Armed Forces is to defend the country’s interests, our freedom
and the right to live the way of our choice.”
At the
same time as Aurora, Russia was conducting a military exercise of its own,
Zapad 2017, which took place in Belarus, Kaliningrad, and other areas of the
Russian Northwest. (“Zapad” means “West.”)
A blunt
question: Is there a true Russian threat to Sweden? Is such talk fanciful?
Paranoid? Putin has said that “only a sick person” would imagine that Russia
would attack Sweden. No one in this country believes that Putin will attack
directly. No one believes that Putin wants to plant his flag atop Stockholm
Palace. But most people believe — indeed, understand — that if Putin moves on
one of the Baltic states, Sweden will inevitably be dragged in.
The
defense minister, Hultqvist, says, “I don’t talk about threats. I talk about
reality. I talk about things that we have seen”: the annexation of the Crimea,
the war in Ukraine, the simulated attacks, including nuclear attacks, etc.
In
Sweden, people speak of the “Hultqvist Doctrine.” This stands for more defense,
greater preparedness. It also stands for ever closer relations with the United
States, Finland, and NATO, while Sweden remains outside NATO.
It is a
big issue these days: Swedish membership in NATO. There are eight parties in
the Swedish parliament. Four of them favor NATO membership and four of them oppose
— including the governing Social Democrats. Yet this party has a split
personality: It has what you might call a realist or pragmatic side,
represented by the defense minister; and it has a traditional left-wing side
represented by the foreign minister, Margot Wallström.
Officially,
all the Social Democrats are against Swedish membership in NATO. It is an
article of party faith. Yet analysts here suspect that the Hultqvist wing, so
to speak, would not lose much sleep if Sweden joined NATO. Might even gain some sleep.
In
public-opinion polls, support for NATO membership has been increasing. A
plurality now favors joining — yet there is a big bloc of undecided Swedes,
about a third.
The
arguments against membership are multifold, including these: Sweden has a
tradition of neutrality and nonalignment (at least in theory); Erdogan in
Turkey, a NATO member, is a brute; Trump in the United States is a wild card;
and … Sweden does not do nukes. We’re
Swedish, for heaven’s sake.
Over the
years, Sweden has indeed been proudly anti-nuclear. And with NATO, of course,
comes a nuclear deterrent. Last summer, Sweden voted for a nuclear-ban treaty
in the United Nations. The foreign ministry wants to ratify the treaty; other
parts of the government are strongly opposed. In September, the U.S. defense
secretary, James Mattis, sent a letter to Stockholm warning that the agreement
between the United States and Sweden would be imperiled if the Swedish government
ratified the nuclear ban.
The
Swedes did something typical of (democratic) governments: They put off the
issue by forming a commission. A commission that is to report — conveniently —
after the next elections, which will take place in September 2018.
And you
can bank on this: If Sweden is to join NATO, the Social Democrats — long the
dominant party here — must be
onboard. As of now, the issue of NATO threatens to crater the Social Democrats.
That is, to split them. Sweden’s entry into the European Union (1995) almost
did. Even hawkish or NATO-minded Social Democrats may have to oppose NATO
membership — to continue doing so — for the sake of domestic harmony.
About
possible Swedish membership, Putin has said, “We will interpret that as an
additional threat for Russia and we will think about how to eliminate this
threat.” In reality, what could Putin do? Declare war? On whom? He might
manufacture some incidents, to be sure, but his options would be relatively
few.
General
Neretnieks points out that Moscow was angry when Poland joined NATO (1999) and
when the Baltic republics joined (2004) and when tiny Montenegro joined (2017).
Swedish entry would be another cause for anger, but with what consequences?
The
Kremlin would go in for its trademark disinformation, of course — they already
have. I will quote Carl Hvenmark Nilsson of the Center for Strategic &
International Studies, who wrote of
a fabricated letter that appeared on Swedish news sites in which
Minister Hultqvist purportedly congratulated a local arms manufacturing company
for exporting lethal weapons to Ukraine (a policy the governing center-left
coalition strongly opposes). This act of disinformation led to a Russian
diplomat being declared persona non grata, which was followed by a reciprocal
gesture by Moscow.
Hans
Wallmark, a parliamentarian of the Moderate party, is one of many Swedes who
contend that Swedish membership in NATO would benefit both Sweden and NATO.
Sweden would get the benefit — the guarantee — of Article 5, which says that an
attack on one is an attack on all. NATO would get the benefit of Swedish
integration, which would allow the alliance to defend the Baltic region more
effectively.
The
phrase everyone uses is “raise the
threshold”: raise the threshold for Putin, making it all the riskier for him to
cause any trouble. Making the region “a harder nut to crack” for him, as
Neretnieks puts it. Isn’t this deterrence?
Announcing
Aurora 17, the Swedish government said, “Deterrence lies at the core of a
strong defence, one that rises to all threats and overcomes all challenges.”
Sweden must aim “to deter potential attackers, and force them to carefully
consider the risks of attacking our country.”
The
government has just announced that it will purchase the American Patriot
missile system. This is remarkably uncontroversial here — even the name
“Patriot,” which is not necessarily a good word in the Swedish vocabulary,
especially coming from America. A U.S. missile system called “Patriot” has not
spooked the Swedes; Putin’s Russia has.
Another
wrinkle to consider: If the Swedes remain outside NATO, they may be both blamed
and unprotected — blamed by the Kremlin for their obvious association with
NATO, and their obvious standing as a “Western” country, and unprotected by NATO.
A dreadful position to be in.
Against
the Baltics, the Russians could strike quickly enough to achieve a fait
accompli. NATO then might have an unappetizing choice — no, a catastrophic
choice: doing nothing — i.e., accepting the Russians’ action — which would end
the alliance, or fighting a war to oust the Russians.
What
Sweden could contribute, as a NATO member, is this: the facilitation of the
defense of the Baltics. That is a clunky phrase, but I hear it in this country,
and it makes sense — especially when military experts spell it out in detail.
We will
leave that for another day. I will instead tell you about a new statue in
Stockholm, sculpted by Peter Linde. It is a lovely work, depicting a lovely
young woman. According to an accompanying sign, she is calling for “peace and
disarmament on earth.” A lovely sentiment, to go with a lovely statue.
Underneath the woman is the word PAX (“peace”). The statue was put up by the
Swedish branch of Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War, an
international organization that, in 1985, won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Speaking
of Latin, there is an old expression: Si
vis pacem, para bellum (“If you want peace, prepare for war”). A clichĂ©,
and possibly an annoying one, but no less true for that.
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