In normal times, democratic politicians often prefer to avoid making choices. Leaving options open and maintaining ambiguity can be useful in sustaining broad coalitions of support. But wars simplify and clarify the national security priorities of all countries whose interests are affected. My blog two weeks ago focused on the dramatic shift in German security policy as a result of Putin’s war in Ukraine. This week’s will examine two pairs of European countries and the contrasting choices they are making. The first pair is Finland and Sweden, two EU members whose history of neutrality means that they are not members of Nato—although that may now be changing. The second is Hungary and Serbia, whose leaders have hitherto been closely aligned with Putin but who are now following divergent paths.
When I was Britain’s ambassador to Nato in the years after the 2003 Iraq war, Finland and Sweden were the most active and effective members of a Nato-run programme known as the Partnership for Peace (PfP). It was created in 1994 as part of the alliance reaching out a hand of friendship to former Warsaw Pact adversaries, although it was open to all European countries who were not Nato members. It offered practical cooperation in a wide range of fields, allowing participants to benefit from Nato’s expertise—for example by holding joint military training and exercises, exchanging views on defence matters, and cooperating on wider issues like planning for disasters. Joining the PfP did not guarantee that a country would be accepted into Nato, although many of the eastern European countries which rushed to set up partnership programmes in the early 1990s did go on to join.
Finland and Sweden both have strong military traditions and highly professional armed forces. They participated in the Nato operations in the Balkans and Afghanistan, and in the training mission in Iraq. When the 50 or so ambassadors from Nato and partner countries met together around an enormous table, my Finnish and Swedish colleagues always played a prominent part. But when I and others asked them why they didn’t just go the whole way and join Nato, they reminded us that both countries had a proud tradition of neutrality.
In the case of Finland, this has its roots in the perilous position of the country during the Soviet period. In the Second World War the country heroically resisted a Soviet invasion, but only preserved its independence during the Cold War by accepting a treaty with the Soviet Union in 1948 imposing a neutral status. This became known as “Finlandisation”—a word which Russian officials have recently dusted down and suggested as a model for Ukraine. It left Finnish leaders walking an anxious tightrope, avoiding antagonising Moscow while building economic links with the west. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Finland had more scope to build an independent foreign policy. It joined the EU and dropped “neutrality,” but public opinion remained firmly against joining Nato.
That is changing with Putin’s war in Ukraine. There has been a massive surge in public support for Finnish membership, up from 20 per cent before the invasion to over 60 per cent. Prime Minister Sanna Marin has called for an urgent review of Finland’s security policy so that parliament can decide the issue. The chair of the National Coalition party, writing in the Financial Times last month, commented that “the time for the next chapter for Finland and Nato is now.” After decades of careful ambiguity, Finland may be lining up unambiguously with the west.
Opinion is also moving in neighbouring Sweden which, like Finland, has a long tradition of independence from military alliances. One poll showed that support for joining Nato rose from 42 per cent in January to 51 per cent in early March. But political opinion is still polarised. With several opposition parties keen to start a discussion on the issue, Prime Minister Magdalena Andersson recently said that Sweden joining the alliance would destabilise the situation in northern Europe. Sweden and Finland have traditionally aligned their defence policies closely. If Helsinki moved ahead on Nato, pressures on Stockholm to follow suit would grow.
In southeastern Europe, the leaders of Hungary and Serbia both face a moment of truth as a result of the crisis. Both have both been closely aligned with Putin. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán tried for years to avoid facing up to the contradictions between Hungary’s obligations as an EU member and his own close political relationship with Putin. He pushed consistently to have the EU’s 2014 sanctions on Russia repealed, and ruled out any prospect of Ukraine joining the EU. But he was completely wrong-footed by Putin’s decision to assault Ukraine. With Hungarians outraged by the sufferings of the Ukrainian people, and parliamentary elections due on 3rd April, Orbán has pivoted rapidly to backing far-reaching new EU sanctions on Russia and welcoming Ukrainian refugees into Hungary. The contrast with the harsh measures he took in 2015 to keep Syrian refugees out is very striking.
Aleksandar Vui is another leader facing general elections on 3rd April. But his political choices have so far been different. Serbia has long had deep political and cultural ties with Russia and is heavily dependent economically—Vučić negotiated a subsidised gas deal with Putin last autumn. Many older Serbs still resent the Nato bombing of Belgrade in the 1990s and there have been pro-Russian demonstrations in the capital. But Serbia is also a candidate to join the EU and, as such, is expected to align itself with EU foreign policy decisions. Instead, Vučić is ducking and weaving. Serbia voted in favour of the UN General Assembly resolution condemning Russia, but refused to apply EU sanctions on Russia. For example, air links between Moscow and Belgrade have continued—provoking fury in EU capitals. Vui may well win his election by siding with Putin, but he has trashed the prospects of Serbia joining the EU.
As the shockwaves from Putin’s war continue to spread across Europe, many countries are having to peer into the dusty corners of their foreign policy where ambiguities and contradictions lurk, many of them left over from history. As these are clarified, Nato and the EU are becoming more united and purposeful than I can ever remember them. Not the legacy Putin intended.
