Doubtlessly, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has led to significant ramifications within Russia and without. With an estimated Russian death toll of some 120,000, Vladimir Putin and his people have found themselves bogged down in a grinding attritional war that has invoked comparisons to the trenches of World War I. With a major conflict raging and nuclear threats being hurled from the Kremlin with reckless abandon, Europe faces a much more dangerous world than at any point since the end of the Cold War. Interestingly, though, the most seismic transformations in European security have taken place in the Baltic, a region whose key players once placed neutrality at the center of their strategic outlooks. But no longer.
On April 4, Finland formally became NATO’s 31st member state, abandoning a policy of neutrality to which it fastidiously held since the end of World War II. Seemingly jolted into action by the Russian menace, Finland’s strategic volte-face came at breakneck speed, its accession to NATO being the fastest in the bloc’s 74-year history.
Sweden’s rise to NATO membership seems not far behind, with Turkey’s President Erdoğan, finally agreeing to put Sweden’s membership in the alliance to the Grand National Assembly (Turkey’s parliament) when it reconvenes in October. Sweden’s sudden abrogation of its neutrality is even more momentous than that of Finland. Aside from scattered participation in UN peacekeeping missions, the last time Sweden waged war was in 1814 during the War of the Sixth Coalition against Napoleon. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine appears poised to sweep away two centuries of Swedish neutrality.
Never before in modern history has the region been so militarily aligned and ideas abound on how to approach this new Baltic order. Indeed, there seems to be a great appetite among many observers in the West to lean into Finland and Sweden’s newfound alignment. Particularly pronounced are the triumphalist calls to turn the Baltic into a “NATO lake,” notably by Estonia’s foreign minister. Of great focus is the challenge this would pose to the freedom of movement and operation for Russia’s Baltic Fleet with some arguing that NATO’s two new Nordic allies should play a role in “closing the Baltic to Russian activity.” Others, like the Hudson Institute’s Luke Coffey, have built upon this idea, proposing an abrupt militarization of the Baltic. According to Coffey, a permanent air and ground presence should be established in the region, including a new forward-deployed NATO battlegroup, and the Baltic’s island chains should play a prominent role in NATO’s operational planning. As Sweden draws closer to formal membership, arguments like these will likely grow louder.
Allied leaders should resist these calls to embrace the “NATO lake” strategy, which would further inflame NATO-Russia tensions within a particularly thorny flashpoint. The security of the alliance may depend on its approach to the region.
Forging the Baltic into a NATO lake would prove a strategically risky enterprise. As Julian Pawlak at the Royal United Services Institute argued last year, viewing NATO’s Baltic doctrine in this way “is not constructive in terms of either internal or external communication.” Internally, the notion might mislead policymakers into assuming that a NATO lake is a fait accompli while externally, actors might view the move as NATO staking a claim over a sphere of influence, “the kind of approach the West legitimately criticises in other parts of the world.”
But the danger goes deeper than optics. Kaliningrad has been dubbed Russia’s “aircraft carrier” in the Baltic and Moscow has reacted sharply to attempts to restrict access to the exclave in the wake of the invasion of Ukraine. Unlike Crimea or the Donbas region of Ukraine, Kaliningrad is widely recognized as sovereign Russian territory and, as such, is situated credibly under Moscow’s nuclear umbrella. NATO supremacy over the Baltic could very well lead to the reality – let alone the perception – that this forward plot of Russian land is under enemy blockade, greatly increasing the potential for miscalculation and escalation. Indeed, just last month Russia carried out a large-scale naval exercise in the Baltic, coming on the heels of a previous exercise in June, two months after Finland joined NATO. NATO’s response to these signals should be measured and circumspect.
So, with the stakes as high as they are, what should NATO’s Baltic doctrine be? In effect, the new doctrine should be the old one.
It must first be recognized that no new NATO forces are needed in the region. Finland has already rejected the suggestion of hosting NATO troops within its borders (though Sweden appears more open to it) and recent comments by the nation’s foreign minister suggest that there is no realistic Russian threat to Finland. Such an Allied force would, in any event, be unenviably tasked with policing an extensive 830 mile land border with Russia and defending a country whose capital sits just 100 miles from the Russian frontier. Those prodding NATO to establish a new Baltic forward presence also ignore the fact that three of NATO’s eight battlegroups reside in the Baltic already. Amplifying NATO’s force posture in the Baltic has little merit beyond needless provocation.
Precipitously militarizing the Baltic may paradoxically make the region less secure while a better model may in fact be found in its newest members’ own history of armed neutrality. Finland and Sweden’s longstanding traditions of neutrality have worked well for them throughout the generations. NATO’s leaders should embrace those traditions in conceptualizing Baltic security. Finland and Sweden have a long history of cooperation with NATO in the civil-diplomatic and security spheres. NATO is not building this alliance from scratch and has no reason to panic at the prospect of doing so. Retaining present security arrangements somewhat retains the regional status quo, preserving the new members’ strong strategic identities while also rejecting a climb up the escalatory ladder. Keeping the Baltic safe and peaceful means recognizing that while Russia has no right to claim military suzerainty over the region, neither does NATO.
Scott Strgacich is a Research Associate at Defense Priorities.
