An increasingly frosty international defence and security climate now follows on from a long period where major inter-state war was seen as a thing of the past.1 This has led to a need for refocusing of the tasks and orientation of naval, military and security forces. The direction is clear and present in most Western European nations where the resources for naval and military security are seen as inadequate. The post-Cold War optimism led to an interregnum with substantial drawdown of naval and military spending, readiness and numbers. A near-exclusive focus on crisis management, peace-support and counter-terrorism operations followed.
Today, long-term global trends point to an ongoing large-scale redistribution of power and influence in the international system, while the multilateral organisational framework set up to manage various common issues is struggling, making the post-1945 and post-1990 orders look shaky. Internal crises in the West manifested in populist protest and revolt add to this picture. The Western world seems to be out of step with the fast-moving global strategic change. The debate on how to address the many gaps and shortfalls is extensive.2
Russia’s invasion and annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the ongoing Russian-supported war against Ukraine has increased geopolitical tension between Russia and the ‘West’ even further. As a consequence of this rude awakening, the states in the Nordic and Baltic Sea region again see that armed conflict in the region cannot be ruled out. A recent example of this is the new guidelines for the Nordic Defence Cooperation (NORDEFCO), adopted by the Ministers of Defence from the five Nordic states. Building on the Memorandum of Understanding from 2009, NORDEFCO now aims to substantially improve the existing defence cooperation of the Nordics in peacetime, crisis and conflict.3
One of the main concerns for much of the defence and security debate in the Nordic–Baltic region centres around variants of an open conflict with Russian operations towards one or more of the three Baltic States. The aim would be for a negation of Western security guarantees by expanding a Russian zone of influence and control in the Baltic Sea region. The methods used in such a conflict would be broad-ranging and are often termed ‘Hybrid warfare’, ‘new warfare’ or ‘full spectrum conflict’.4 These methods are linked to a development where the line between crisis and open conflict has been deliberately blurred. What is new is that many of these methods are employed so as not to trigger a reaction that might lead to armed conflict, while still furthering Russia’s overarching goal of increasing its influence over the region.
Efforts to strengthen defences and enhance security are underway in the face of an increasing threat. In the naval and maritime field, lead-times are long and capital-intensive and little has so far happened.
The economies of the nations in the Nordic–Baltic region have developed rapidly in the past decades and all are extremely dependent on seaborne trade. The efficient just-in-time systems of production and distribution are vulnerable. An aggressor that aims for disruption of these complex and fragile supply lines, while keeping the confrontation just below the boiling point, would constitute a serious threat to the economies and societies in the region.5
Given the multilateral nature of the naval and maritime defence problems outlined above, there is a clear need for enhanced cooperative efforts – within and between states in the region and with states beyond – to address emerging defence and security problems.
Elsewhere, other challenges to the wider maritime situation still persist. Protection of seaborne trade, refugee flows and state-on-state confrontation extending into the maritime arena, generate demand for operations beyond the Nordic and Baltic Sea region. Navies of the Nordic–Baltic region are in this respect what Geoffrey Till terms post-modern, in that they depend on a ‘good order at sea’ that enables their societies and economies to prosper.6 The implication is that the ‘home-game’, as well as the ‘away-game’, matter for naval operations, not least in support of a globalised system of trade. The uses of the sea are also changing.7 Ever more use of the seabed for telecommunication cables, wind power installations and significantly increased shipping, adds on the pressure. Energy and mineral extraction, harvesting of biological organisms and climate change leading to higher sea levels, are factors affecting the role of the sea.
Given the trends in global and regional security with a focus on the naval and maritime domain outlined above, the main aim of this chapter presents itself as an attempt to answer three main questions:
• How could navies and maritime security forces in the wider Baltic Sea region be better organised, structured and equipped in order to counter and manage disruptions in a grey-zone conflict scenario?
• How could the naval defence problems of the Nordic–Baltic Sea region be addressed given that the risk of an open high-end conflict has returned?
• How could various cooperative efforts in the maritime arena address current vulnerabilities?
To answer these questions, a conceptual framework is used, supported by two scenarios to illustrate the challenges. A description of the Baltic Sea region and technological developments complements the scenarios. This leads to a discussion and conclusions.
In many nations today, particularly in Western Europe, the role and function of navies is seen as vague. In some policy-making circles, navies are often seen as the odd-man-out in defence and security, and as something less than essential for national survival, security and prosperity over the longer term. The term sea-blindness is often used to capture policy-makers’ lack of interest in and understanding of the role of sea, where access to it and its uses is often taken for granted. This trend has been accentuated in the past two decades, when war between major powers was thought to be a thing of the past.
The role of navies changed with the end of the Cold War, mainly in two ways. First, the size of navies shrunk substantially since there was no perceived need for their size and structure.8 In Europe, the perceived peace-dividend was cashed in and funds reallocated. Second, navies redirected much of their operational focus from preparation for high-end naval warfare in a Cold-War setting towards constabulary operations, counter-piracy operations and naval diplomacy. The result is that many navies in Western Europe today are out of step with the trends in strategic affairs, in capabilities, numbers and readiness. Recently, the focus has again shifted towards challenging grey-zone operations and naval highend warfare.
The use of the sea is also changing. One result is that the nature and scale of the threat to global seaborne trade security, coupled with intensifying exploitation of resources of the sea, threatens a ‘good order at sea’. The current combination of dynamics presents states with a unique set of circumstances in formulating naval and maritime policy.9 At one end of the scale, a blend of threats to seaborne trade emanate from weak or failed coastal states leading to threats of piracy and robbery while, at the other end, a danger of high-end conflict looms from rising states with great-power ambitions, wishing to expand their control and writ over and beyond their exclusive economic zones.10
A conceptual model for analysing the role of navies is suggested by Ken Booth in his book Navies and Foreign Policy.11 A diplomatic, military and policing role of navies is broadly related to the use of the sea for three main purposes:
• the passage of goods and people
• the passage of military force for diplomatic purposes, or for use against targets on land or at sea
• the exploitation of resources in or under the sea.
Booth underlines that navies exist ‘…as a means to further such ends’. In other words, they are a tool for a broader and more general maritime policy of a state. The structure, size and tasks of navies should thus not be taken for granted – navies always have to motivate their existence and the associated state expenditure. The use of force – the military role of navies – is conducted both in peace and in war.12 The balance of power-role in peacetime includes nuclear strategic deterrence, conventional deterrence and defence, extended deterrence, which includes protection of national activities on the high seas and wartime tasks in distant waters. Included in this is also the support for a recognised international law of the sea.
The policing role is where the traditional coastguard tasks and also internal and international nation-building, i.e. stabilisation of civil society and contribution to internal development, belongs.
The diplomatic role concerns negotiation from strength by reassurance of friends and allies, changing the behaviour of friendly governments when these are facing attack, crisis management, the threat of use of force to support national policy and improving bargaining positions in a negotiation. Prestige also forms part of the diplomatic role; by providing psychological reassurance for the home country and projecting a favourable general image of one’s own country that can have positive effects in the long term.
Booth’s model has several advantages when analysing a naval policy and the roles that navies play in national policy. The first is that its comprehensiveness allows for describing almost any navy’s role in a comparative perspective. Second, the organisation, focus and description of roles also makes it possible to follow a specific navy over time. How is it organised and where does its place its main effort? How does it change over time? What has been forgotten or is not prioritised?
Booth’s model has limits through its chosen perspective due to its somewhat narrow empirical input. From the case studies of the Royal Navy in the First and Second World Wars, can we thereby assume that the British naval experience is valid for all navies? Great Britain’s imperial experience as a former global naval power has undoubtedly coloured its traditions and thinking on navies. Other nations have different but sometimes overlapping experiences that influence their thinking and process on the role of navies. National perspectives on naval affairs differ, which in this context is a weakness in Booth’s conceptual model.
Despite this critique, the set of roles that Booth sets out provides a sufficiently precise tool for the purposes of this analysis. As a part of a conceptual support for a discussion on solutions to naval and maritime problems facing several states in the Nordic–Baltic Sea region, it serves its purpose.
The economically vibrant Baltic Sea region, with a steadily increasing seaborne trade but with a historical legacy of competition and of war, is now facing a worsening security climate. The region with its surrounding seas is increasingly seen as one strategic space. The implications are clear: it is no longer possible – if it ever was – to have confrontation or open conflict in one part of the region while peace reigns in another. Figure 6.1 shows the complex geography of the Baltic Sea region.
Around the Baltic Sea region, about 110 million people live and are dependent on the sea for transport, supply, trade and recreation. The shipping operations in and out of the Baltic Sea make it one of the most densely operated seas in the world today. Around 1500 IMO ships are present in the Baltic Sea region at any given time.13 Analysis of future growth of shipping project an increase of general cargo, container and volume of oil to increase by around two-thirds in the next ten years.14
A geographic and oceanographic description of the Baltic Sea region shows a confined, congested and shallow sea. The oceanography varies from open coastlines to complex and shallow archipelagos, from sandy seabeds and beaches to rugged rocks and narrow channels. While the Baltic is not tidal and lacks strong currents, the hydrographic conditions of this brackish and confined sea varies seasonally as does the ice-cover during winter. The sea state is often characterised by short and choppy wave patterns, while the length of day and night also varies considerably with the seasons, from near constant daylight in summer to very short days in winter. These varying conditions present any mariner venturing into the region – be they civilian or military – with a set of serious challenges.
International treaties partly regulate sea traffic and military conditions in the Baltic Sea region. The Öresund treaty of 1857 and UNCLOS of 1982 mean that the Danish straits and Öresund strait are regarded as international straits allowing innocent passage. The Åland Islands are demilitarised since the end of the Crimean War in 1856 and subsequently under a League of Nations-brokered agreement of 1921.
Figure 6.1 The Baltic Sea, the Baltic States, Kattegat, Skagerrak and part of the North Sea.
History is also present in other ways. Two world wars led to extensive laying of sea-mines in the Baltic Sea, Skagerrak and Kattegat.15 Many of these mines remain in place or have drifted and still constitute a threat. After the Second World War, chemical munitions were dumped at sea, sometimes in the same areas. These remnants of war occasionally turn up in or near SLoC or are caught in fishermen’s nets. This will remain one focus of continuous operations for many decades to come.
The long-range weapon systems deployed in the region have led to an extensive debate on whether an ‘A2/AD-bubble’ substantially changes the offensive-defensive relationships in an open conflict.16 Initially, one side of the debate argued that a near-impregnable bubble is created that makes operations within their range too risky. If these systems are deployed further to the west in the region, the aggressor would be successful.17 Other analysts have reached different conclusions. They argue that the lethality and effective range of these systems are much less than advertised, due to design, technical capabilities, connectedness, numbers and physical conditions, which limit their real capability. Moreover, these A2/AD-systems can be countered by a wide set of countermeasures, which could further degrade their effectiveness, e.g. by saturating the systems with decoys or by cutting the link between sensor and shooter.18 There are thus questions surrounding the efficiency of the A2/AD-systems in an open conflict. The A2/AD debate has shifted from a near consensus of an almost impregnable system, often based on Russian claims, to something that can be managed with countermeasures, offensive capabilities and tactics.
Underwater technologies have also taken great leaps forward since the end of the Cold War.19 The development of more advanced sonars and underwater sensors have run in parallel with development of increasingly silent underwater vehicles and smaller conventional submarines with significantly longer endurance. Sensor technology has also increasingly come to be ‘networked’. Unmanned, increasingly independent and intelligent underwater systems also form part of the picture. Development of nodes of communication between underwater vehicles and submarines and communication networks on the seabed will also affect the operational pattern. A system of systems is developing, from which both NATO-nations and Russia can take advantage. These technological trends have an impact on classic underwater confrontation and combat. For the aggressor with underwater combat systems with all components fully operational (technology, platforms, tactical concepts, training, personnel, etc.), the advantage of stealth in combination with improved communications could open up an ‘underwater autostrada’. This could lead to a functional extension of its sub-surface territory being created already before the outbreak of open hostilities. For the defender, the same technologies can be used to detect and attack an opposing force. What might result is an operational-level decoupling between classic notions of ASW and Anti-Surface Warfare. While all is seemingly calm on the surface, underneath a largely hidden and intense confrontation is ongoing.
To illustrate the nature of perceived threats outlined above and discuss current and projected force structures in a constructed environment, two scenarios are used:
• just below the boiling point
• high-end warfare.
In the naval and maritime realm, scenarios can be used as tools as a basis for a discussion of future naval and maritime force structures and indicate future ship and unit design. Scenarios can then be used as a basis for dynamic games to test current and future force structures and help broaden the scope of possibilities. Employed this way, they can provide new insights and serve as a basis for further analysis.
Scenarios are, however, neither prognoses nor predictions. All too often scenario-based games are used predictively, above and beyond the specific conditions that they were designed to examine. Awareness of this is crucial in a highly competitive planning environment for future force structures, with ambitious individuals, strong vested interests and near-chronic shortage of funds. The outcome of scenario-based games thus run the risk of being used as argumentative brick-bats in a wider defence and security debate or in a zero-sum budget game. This is another reason why games should be used with some caution.
The two scenarios used in this chapter are written with a limited ambition. The intention behind the scenarios is to contribute to a discussion on naval and maritime security problems in the Nordic–Baltic region.
Taken together with Booth’s model of what navies are for and the overview of strategic dynamics, the scenarios provide a basis for answers to the research questions in this chapter.
In this scenario, Russia uses a low-key approach where a broad set of measures are applied.20 This is done with a mid- to long-term perspective and the level of aggression varies in intensity, by sector and geographical focus. The actor behind the measures is deliberately hidden or opaque.21
The operational aim of the aggressor is to do damage to economic life by disturbing seaborne trade, stressing and preferably exhausting naval and maritime security forces and signalling that resistance is futile. The long-term goal is to create conditions favourable for a later high-end conflict or a weakening of the targeted societies by sowing doubt and division. Creating a feeling of vulnerability that cannot be addressed aims to lower morale. This in turn will create conditions more favourable for political pressure in order to ‘soften up’ an adversary for later physical attack, if deemed feasible or necessary.
The economies of the Nordic–Baltic region are vulnerable to this type of pressure, due to their high-level of modernity, efficiency, integration and with their very high degree of import and export dependence. About eight- to nine-tenths of all goods are imported and exported over the sea. The just-in-time model of production where intermediate goods are timed to arrive as precisely as possible in order to minimise the need for storage space is highly efficient from a corporate-economic perspective. It is further organised in complex production chains so that a partial assembly of a product takes place in one country, then being shipped to another for final assembly.
The just-in-time model of production is as efficient as it is vulnerable to several forms of disruption. Adding to that, stores of foodstuffs, fuel, energy, fertilisers, medicines etc., have been similarly slimmed. The dependence on IT-systems for planning and distribution, as well as financial transactions, are similarly vulnerable.22 On the seabed, telecommunication cables where vital information is passed could become targets for disruption. Already, short interruptions – physical and/or virtual – would quickly hurt economies and societies in the Nordic–Baltic region. The dependence on the sea for this production-model and by extension the entire functionality of societies to continue to operate is crucial.
In a grey-zone attack, ports could be subjected to physical sabotage, slowing or stopping entry and exit through narrow channels. The threat of sea-mines – a historical legacy from the Second World War – leading to recurring mine-clearing operations could be used by an aggressor in a grey-zone attack by augmenting the threat of mines in various ways. This would be disruptive to shipping and lead to closing of ports while mine-clearance operations are undertaken. The mere threat of mines also forces naval and maritime security forces to investigate, consuming scarce resources and causing costly delays to shipping.
There could also be attempts to instigate industrial action, using real or imagined work-place grievances. Work stoppages would be disruptive and costly, due to the just-in-time-production model.
Cyberattacks could be used to target distribution systems for trucks, containers, ship supplies and bunker oil to cause delays that the current system can ill afford.23
Physical interference and recurring sabotage of lane-markers, lighthouses, port facilities, pilotage and other infrastructure would be another method. Further out to sea, measures to cause hazards to mariners can be employed. Sabotage that causes on-board fires or engine failure, deliberate collisions or incidents between ships and acts of piracy or armed robbery at sea could form part of methods used. The resulting effects would be to cause hazards to mariners and disrupt shipping operations at sea with considerably higher insurance and freight rates as a follow-on effect.
Psychological methods might also form part of the below-the-boiling-point-scenario. By attempting to depict the relevant naval and maritime authorities as inadequate, incompetent or amateurish, unable to protect and secure shipping in the region, credibility would be undermined over the longer time.
The methods outlined above are just a few examples of a wide range that can be employed, in parallel, in sequence and with gradual levels of intensity over a long time-period.24 Of central importance is that all actions undertaken are ‘just below the boiling point’ and ambiguous in order to complicate analysis and assessment for the defending naval and maritime security forces, in order to avoid triggering actions that might lead to escalation into open conflict.
To summarise, the methods employed as part of conflicts in the past decade, often described as hybrid-warfare, grey-zone warfare or ‘new warfare’, present an attractive set of methods for an aggressor that can be employed with good effect to the seas and archipelagos of the Nordic–Baltic region.
In this scenario, a high-end armed conflict breaks out in the Nordic–Baltic region. The main strategic-level reasons are associated with a Russia that sees a need for an extended zone of influence. Its smaller neighbours to the west are to be deprived of their freedom of action and Russia is to control their security policy and thereby create what could be called a ‘zone of subjugation’.
Russia’s objectives with open hostilities in the Nordic–Baltic region consist of a combination of factors. First, an attempt to split EU–Europe, where differing security perspectives between Northern, Eastern and Southern Europe might give rise to delays or make a coherent response to aggression difficult or impossible, helping to bring about a fait accompli. Second, to break the transatlantic link, by exploiting divisions within the transatlantic alliance, rendering the alliance pledge of solidarity moot. Here, of course, the role of the US is crucial. Third, an attack could come about as a result of the Kremlin’s needs to deflect domestic discontent, or its suspicious fears of a Western attack on Russia. A Russian leadership with a faltering economy and with a restive public opinion might judge an attempt to create a wider buffer-zone as an attractive option to divert attention from domestic problems. An extension of a defensive zone would with this logic be seen as a reasonable risk to a perceived existential threat.
On the operational level, the discussion of a high-end warfare scenario for the Nordic–Baltic region is often based on one or more versions of a Russian attempt at coup de main-type of operations against one or more of the three Baltic states. In order to prevent allied reinforcements, the main area of operations needs to be cordoned off for an adequate time, to present the Western alliance with a fait accompli.25
The aim of creating a forward buffer zone as a shield for the land operation puts the major Baltic islands in focus.26 The Åland/Ahvenanmaa Islands, Gotland and Bornholm form a Baltic three-dashed line which, as well as the islands of Hiiumaa/Ösel and Saaremaa/Dagö, might be central to a successful operation.
Here, classical military methods would be employed. Airborne and/or amphibious forces in combination with Special Forces would be landed quickly to seize control of the islands or parts of them, in order to prepare the ground for the forward-deployment of an A2/AD-bubble with a sufficient capability to deny the use of surrounding sea- and airspace. Mid- and/or long-range surface-to-air and anti-ship systems should be made operational for a sufficiently long time in order to prevent or at least delay the arrival of Western reinforcements to the Baltic States. Similarly, the outermost skerries and small islets at the edge of the archipelagos can play an important role as nodes in an integrated network of sensors and/or shooters.
The effective range of the forward-deployed Russian A2/AD systems would probably suffice to significantly limit the freedom of manoeuvre for Western forces in the relatively confined Baltic sea- and airspace unless they can be quickly neutralised. The objective of this part of the operation would be for the aggressor to gain time and ‘working space’ in order to create favourable conditions for achieving an operational fait accompli on the mainland.
The conflict would erupt with no or at best short tactical warning and perhaps with a short operational-level warning, while the strategic-level warning is already given. The operational tempo would probably be very high and intense. The conduct of the Russian forces in such a surprise attack are facilitated by the setup and modus operandi, as it has developed over the past decade. Russia’s exercises have since 2009 increasingly focused on regional wars. Strategic-level exercises and comprehensive surprise combat-readiness exercises at military district or service level, as well as annual strategic-level exercises, reflect a determined and persistent Russian effort at improving the capability of the Russian armed forces. Russia’s new normal with unannounced surprise readiness-tests with increasingly large units and inter-service formations facilitates a surprise attack.
The aggressor could also take advantage of the civilian shipping constantly operating in the region by using equipment and personnel hidden or disguised on board. This could be put in place well before outbreak of hostilities. At a given moment this Trojan-horse-style-ruse is put in motion and could prove difficult to discover in advance for the defenders to apply countermeasures.
At sea in the Baltic region, the conflict would be characterised by high intensity, fast pace and an exchange of fires that is likely to cause a fast attrition of scarce forces. Surprises regarding actual effectiveness, accuracy and range of weapon systems seem likely – some systems will disappoint while others will prove to be surprisingly effective. Tactical innovation would be swift and might prove decisive. The available arsenals of ASCMs, Surface-to-Air and ASMs would be quickly depleted.
The character of the Baltic Sea region means that the conflict at sea will blur with that in the coastal regions. The short distances relative to the range of modern weapon systems makes naval warfare in the Baltic Sea a difficult undertaking with high risks and where the outcome is far from certain.
Tactical nuclear weapons, their actual use or the threat of their use, might also be part of the Russian instrumentarium.27 These weapons form part of the arsenals in the Russian armed forces and have been modernised in recent years. Ballistic missiles and cruise missiles are systems that get the most attention, but in the naval and maritime sector, nuclear mines and long-range nuclear torpedoes could also form part of the threat picture.28 The aggressive and forceful Russian nuclear rhetoric, modernisation of systems and exercise patterns, also indicate that a limited nuclear war is seen as a central option in Russian operational concepts.29 The Western tactical nuclear component is less modern, but still remains part of the arsenal in Europe, though it is unclear whether NATO currently has a credible option of using the arsenal, since the military and political procedures are not up to date.30 Depending on the situation, these weapons could, if the situation is deemed desperate enough, be employed in a surprise attack to achieve the operational targets. Alternatively, they could be used to coerce an opponent into submission. Nuclear weapons could also be employed as a threat to defend operational gains and freeze a situation advantageous to the aggressor in a post-conflict situation. Finally, in a situation where a conventional operation is suffering setbacks, tactical nuclear weapons could be used to avert looming defeat.
The two scenarios outlined above point to a need for different structures and balance to address the threat perception – what is needed to respond in each scenario?
For the grey-zone scenario, endurance and staying power are crucial and dominating factors. The aim is to avoid defeat by keeping the goods flowing through the maritime system with as little disruption as possible, for as long as possible and at an affordable cost. Since the aggressor can choose method, place, time, intensity and function, the defender is presented with a daunting task. The solutions border on the obvious: first, make sure that adequate resources are available and with the right level of readiness over time. Most maritime security forces in and around the Baltic Sea region are currently designed and funded for a situation where accidents at sea, transgressors and rule-breakers are few relative to the volume of sea-traffic in the region. For the strategic reasons outlined here and the operational concept exemplified in the scenario, this can in all likelihood no longer be the sole valid base for structuring and designing maritime security forces in the region. Recent exercises indicate that the current resources would not be able to uphold security in a grey-zone scenario for long. An example are the results of a naval exercise in 2015, SWENEX, where the limits of the current size of the Royal Swedish Navy became clear. One operational area on the Swedish west coast could be managed in a grey-zone scenario under a limited time period at the expense of nearly all other geographical areas.31 As Jeremy Stöhs has shown, naval and maritime forces in Europe have been in overall decline in the past two decades, and it is by no means certain that they are adequately prepared for this type of challenge.32
Second, the current methods of keeping an updated Recognised Maritime Picture (RMP) are probably in need of modernisation. To keep an RMP relevant is a continuously ongoing activity. It is arguably no longer sufficient to keep track of each ship and vessel, who owns and operates it, but also what kind of cargo and the contents of each container and cargo hold on board each ship. The size of some ships is such that several thousands of TEU-sized containers, in some cases over 10,000, their content, ownership and destinations needs to be known.33 Who is who and who is shipping what to whom? Some of this information is already known, but needs to be shared more widely. The use of upgraded IT-systems with improved Big Data algorithms able to indicate and distribute alerts on suspected irregularities can also contribute to provide early warning.34 Analysis of ships’ patterns of movement can further support deployment of the limited resource of maritime security forces over time. For commercial reasons, lead times are shorter and the demands placed on supervisory and naval and maritime agencies for faster and near seamless cooperation are therefore higher than previously.
Third, the integration between different agencies (navies, coast guards, police forces, shipping agencies, customs, maritime agencies, cybersecurity agencies and security services etc.) needs to improve. Since the grey-zone operation is multi-dimensional, enhanced cross-sectorial cooperation is needed, enhancing fast exchange of relevant data. Moreover, this exchange needs to be intra-national as well as multinational, in the region and outside of it. Some of this is already in existence through the SUCBAS and SUCFIS cooperation in the Baltic Sea.35 To explore enhanced multinational and cross-sectorial cooperation would be a next step. For example, a navy from one nation could cooperate with a coastguard from another to solve a specific task or vice versa. Ideally, this would over time be developed until a near seamless bi-, tri- or multinational operation can become part of routine standard operating procedures to meet this part of the threat.
For the naval and maritime security forces and their land-based colleagues tasked with countering the aggressor in such a scenario, the key challenge will be to correctly assess the situation – essentially an intelligence task – and then deploy their limited resources in a manner that can be upheld over time.36 Cooperation in order to meet these challenges will be crucial and has at least two different aspects.37 Given the often stove-piped nature of the bureaucratic structures with varying administrative cultures, traditions and ingrained habits, this will be complicated enough within one state.38 To achieve effective inter-state and multilateral cooperation across the naval and maritime sectors is an even greater challenge. While cooperation and exchanges between navies, between coastguards, police and customs between states can work reasonably well, the cross-sectorial cooperation is considerably harder to achieve and is often seen as secondary to the inter-state cooperation. An example of the complexities different national structures present is the cooperation between the Royal Danish Navy, where the coastguard tasks are undertaken by the navy, and the Swedish Coast Guard, a civilian government agency, separate from the Royal Swedish Navy, which in turn has agreements on how to cooperate with the Royal Danish Navy. In Germany, the organisation is again different regarding what is civilian, military, state and federal level. Each state has its own unique solutions.
Given the integrated nature of economic life dependent on the sea in the Nordic–Baltic region and with the scarce resources overall, reaching an adequate level of inter-state and multilateral cooperation becomes a central part of the countermeasures to blunt the effect of the methods used by the aggressor.
Fourth, the psychological factor of a successful ongoing maritime security operation needs to be communicated to the public and to a wider international audience. A long-term operation aimed at keeping the sea-lanes safe and secure will also have an effect over time. To present and effectively communicate what is being done to uphold security, safety and good order at sea that supports the nations’ long-term well-being will also act as a countermeasure to the information operations that will form part of the aggressor’s methods.
For the high-end conflict scenario several structural and operational challenges present themselves. The development of Russian force structures and posture means that the advance warning of a surprise attack is short or non-existent. This leads to a need for three adaptive measures: first, readiness has to be considerably higher than today. A long period where presence and constabulary operations far away – the away-game – was a main priority, led to a lower readiness and reduced capabilities in home waters.
Second, the operational stance has to be adapted to take into account the increased risk of a surprise attack or coup-type of operation. Naval- and airbases and regiments were closed due to the post-Cold War optimism, stores were centralised and logistics cut to a minimum.39 All the remaining units were often home-based in one single base. In a situation with a higher risk environment, this has to change. Dispersion, deception, protection and movement – including taking advantage of the oceanography and archipelagos – will again be central operational tenets. A quicker turnaround time of ships and units, where time moored in ports is shortened, is another requirement. As a follow-on, the design requirements of the next generation of ships should factor this in with subsequent demands on the logistics organisation to follow.
Third, for the amphibious units in the region, operational mobility and speed needs to improve. With the ‘three-dashed-line’ of Baltic islands as well as the outer skerries and smaller islands in focus, the current design of amphibious and coastal defence forces needs an upgrade in mobility and firepower. This applies to the states in and around the Baltic Sea that currently operate variants of amphibious and coastal defence units – mainly Finland, Sweden and Norway, and to an extent Denmark. Other nations in and around the Baltic Sea region who are currently without these capabilities could also consider how such units could operate in a high-end scenario. Today’s fleet of fast boats would need to be complemented with air-cushion type-transports and/or helicopters to attain higher speed and capability in operations. Contested terrain needs to be brought under control quickly in order to counter enemy raids and landings. The contested terrain could then be used as nodes in command and control systems or for weapon systems. Firepower based on land-based anti-ship missiles and self-propelled long-range high precision coastal artillery would seriously complicate or prevent landings and intrusions. The anti-aircraft defences are also clearly in need of an upgrade, where some type of MANPAD-systems is a necessary add-on to light and mostly unprotected amphibious units. In addition, air-support through JTAC-components should be added. These components, similarly to what has been said in the previous scenario, need to cooperate and integrate with others on a national basis and with forces in other nations. Here, some developments have taken place, but clearly more could be done.40
The defensive efforts outlined above will, taken together, contribute to the creation of an operational threshold that hopefully will convince the aggressor to refrain from an attack. The risk of executing an attack must be seen as too high for the aggressor and the outcome too uncertain. However, decisions on what systems to acquire and what level of readiness and posture that is needed, will still need to take the strategic level into account. The aim of the nations in the region is that their own defence efforts should influence top-level assessments and planning in other countries and thus contribute to regional stability. Should an open conflict come, the aim is to hold the line for long enough to make time for outside forces to arrive in theatre. Early warning, sufficient readiness of standing sea and air power assets will prove crucial in providing a sufficient in-theatre capability that leads the potential aggressor to refrain from an attack.
Three questions were asked at the outset of this chapter:
• How could navies and maritime security forces in the wider Baltic Sea region be better organised, structured and equipped in order to counter and manage disruptions in a grey-zone conflict scenario?
• How could the naval defence problems of the Baltic Sea region be addressed given that the risk of an open high-end conflict has returned?
• How could various cooperative efforts in the maritime arena address current vulnerabilities?
Ken Booth’s model with a military, policing and diplomatic role for navies and maritime security forces provides a partial answer to the questions posed here. In this limited study, it provides just the conceptual framework needed. The three purposes of navies and maritime security forces are all covered: a military role in the high-end scenario and a policing role in the grey-zone. The diplomatic role is also relevant in order to signal resolve to potential aggressors and reassurance to friends and allies.
A main conclusion is that efforts in the grey-zone scenario support the high-end scenario, in that the latter could well follow the first if the aggressor decides to increase the pressure by crossing the line into open conflict. At a certain point, the situation would change – and the aggressor has the initiative here – from the grey-zone to the high-end scenario. If naval and maritime security forces can detect this operational shift and have the capability to undertake tasks in both scenarios, much would be gained. An increased ability for fast and agile adaption in a fluid situation would serve to strengthen the ability to withstand pressure. Being able to send such a credible signal falls into the third core role of navies in Booth’s model: diplomatic signalling. If the potential aggressor perceives that an operation runs the risk of failure, stability will at best ensue.
That said, a grey-zone scenario and a high-end scenario have very different implications for the force mix, structure and capability of naval forces. While a grey-zone scenario calls for maintaining a broad and enduring presence, which implies a greater number of patrol vessels with sensors, but perhaps with fewer advanced weapons, a high-end scenario may make less demands on numbers but would place capability, firepower and survivability higher.
However, the two scenarios clearly indicate that naval and maritime forces designed exclusively for either a grey-zone situation or a high-end open conflict would leave serious vulnerabilities. The aggressor could exploit gaps and vulnerabilities using a wide spectrum of methods. Given the scarcity of available funding, the next version of naval and maritime security forces may end up being configured for a little of both scenarios, which entails a risk of coming up short in both contingencies. One implication for further studies is to ascertain where the balance point regarding structure, volume, cooperative efforts and readiness lies. How should a balanced structure and size of Nordic and Baltic navies and maritime security forces look? How much could enhanced cooperation help alleviate current naval and maritime shortfalls?
The attempt at answers in this analysis still remain tentative. They can hopefully be used as a starting point for further work. In order to achieve a sufficient threshold capability over the spectrum of challenges outlined here, much work remains on a conceptual as well as on a practical level. The worsening security climate, not least in the Nordic–Baltic region, points to a clear need for more thinking and not least prudent decisions on future investments in naval and maritime security.
Few causes for optimism on the strategic situation are on the horizon when the foundations of international security after a long period of relative stability are undergoing fundamental change.
1 I would like to extend my gratitude to several friends and colleagues in and outside of the FOI who in various ways have contributed with insightful, constructive and critical comments during the process of writing. Any remaining weaknesses are of course entirely my own responsibility.
2 Graham Allison, Destined for War. Can America and China escape Thucydides’s Trap? (London: Scribe Publications, 2017). Zbigniew Brzezinski, Strategic Vision. America and the Crisis of Global Power (New York: Basic Books, 2012). Robert Kagan, The Jungle Grows Back. America and Our Imperiled World (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2018). Henry A. Kissinger, World Order. Reflections on the Character of Nations and the Course of History (United Kingdom: Penguin Random House, 2015). Ivan Krastev, After Europe (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2017). Joseph S. Nye JR, Is the American Century Over? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2015).
3 Government of Sweden, Nordic Defence Cooperation Vision 2025 (Oslo: 13 November 2018). Johan Engvall et al., Nordiskt operativt försvarssamarbete – Nuläge och framtida utvecklingsmöjligheter (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency, 2018), FOI-R–4628–SE.
4 Elbridge Colby and Jonathan Solomon, ‘Facing Russia: Conventional Defence and Deterrence in Europe’. Survival, no. 6 (2015) 21–50. David A. Shlapak and Michael Jonson, Reinforcing Deterrence on NATO’s Eastern Flank: Wargaming the Defense of the Baltics (Santa Monica: RAND Corporation, 2016). Stephan Frühling and Guillamue Lasconjarias, ‘NATO, A2/AD and the Kaliningrad Challenge’. Survival vol. 58 no. 2 (2016) 95–116.
5 Chris Parry, Super Highway. Sea Power in the 21st Century (London: Elliot & Thompson Limited, 2014).
6 Geoffrey Till, Seapower. A Guide for the Twenty-First Century. 4th edition (Abingdon: Routledge, 2018) 47–48.
7 Lars Wedin, ’Det 21:a århundradet är blått’, (The 21st Century is Blue). Kungl. Krigs-vetenskapsakademiens Handlingar och Tidskrift, no. 1 (January 2018) 23–34.
8 Jeremy Stöhs, The Decline of European Naval Forces. Challenges to Sea Power in an Age of Fiscal Austerity and Political Uncertainty (Annapolis: US Naval Institute Press, 2018).
9 Geoffrey Till, Seapower.
10 The naval build-up in Asia is a clear example of this. Geoffrey Till, Asia’s Naval Expansion. An Arms Race in the Making? (London: International Institute of Strategic Studies, 2012).
11 Ken Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy (Abingdon: Routledge Revivals, 1977) 15–25. The sections follows Booth’s reasoning and summarises its central features.
12 Booth uses ‘military’, though the terms ‘naval’ and ‘military’ are usually used to denote separate activities at sea and on land.
13 Helsinki Commission, HELCOM 2018. HELCOM Assessment on Maritime activities in the Baltic Sea 2018 (Helsinki: HELCOM, 20 March 2018) 24. HELCOM uses data collected from the AIS-System, which accounts for all IMO ships. Since the AIS-technology has become increasingly affordable, more ships tend to use them for increased safety, which points to an increasingly reliable data set as well as an increase in ships’ traffic in the Baltic Sea region.
14 Kungl. Örlogsmannasällskapet. En marin för Sverige (A Navy for Sweden) (Stock-holm: 2018) 5–6.
15 According to Lt Cdr Gunnar Möller, RSwNavy, Head of the Mine Warfare Data Center (MWDC), about 165,000 mines were dropped in the Baltic Sea, Skagerrak, Kattegat and the adjoining parts of the North Sea during the First and Second World Wars. Of these it is estimated that one-third remains in the sea. According to the HELCOM Final Report from 1994, about 40,000 tonnes of munitions were dumped after the Second World War. Of these about 13,000 tonnes were chemical munitions.
16 Anti-Access refers to the ability to deny access to a region (with ships and aircraft), while Area-Denial refers to the ability to make it dangerous to remain in the same region. Robert Dalsjö, Christofer Berglund and Michael Jonsson, Bursting the Bubble. Russian A2/AD-Capabilities in the Baltic Sea Region: Capabilities, Countermeasures and Implications FOI-R–4651–SE (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency, March 2019).
17 Bret Perry, ‘Entering the Bear’s Lair: Russia’s A2/AD Bubble in the Baltic Sea’. The Buzz/The National Interest (September 2016). Tobias Oder, ‘The Dimensions of Russian Sea Denial in the Baltic Sea’. Center for International and Maritime Security-website (cimsec.org) (4 January 2018). Loc Burton, ‘Bubble Trouble: Russia’s A2/AD Capabilities’. Foreign Policy Association-website (25 October 2016). Robbie Gramer, ‘This interactive map Shows the High Stakes Missile Stand-Off Between NATO and Russia’. Foreign Policy (12 January 2017). Sydney J. Freenberg Jr., ‘What The US, NATO Must Do To Counter Russia: Breedlove, Gorenc, & Odierno. The National Interest (22 September 2014).
18 Robert Dalsjö et al. Bursting the Bubble.
19 CDR (E) Dr Mats Nordin, Director of Engineering, Interview. Swedish Defence Research Agency, 25 October 2018.
20 The debate on grey-zone problems and the maritime domain have until lately not attracted much attention. A recent example is James Goldrick’s study on grey-zone operations in the maritime domain. James Goldrick, Grey Zone Operations and the Maritime Domain (Canberra: Australian Strategic Policy Institute, 30 October 2018).
21 This scenario is in part based on studies undertaken on civil defence by the Swedish Defence Research Agency, FOI. Daniel K Jonsson, Typfall 5: Utdragen och eskalerande gråzonsproblematik, (Case 5: A Protracted and Escalating Grey-Zone Problem). (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency Memo 6338, 31 January 2018).
22 A hypothetical case study where the island of Gotland in the Baltic Sea is cut off from the Swedish mainland, as part of a wider naval and maritime study, was recently undertaken by the Royal Swedish Naval Society. Its conclusions clearly illustrate these vulnerabilities, which are by no means limited to Gotland. Kungl. Örlogsman-nasällskapet. En marin för Sverige, (A Navy for Sweden). (Stockholm: 2018) 10–11.
23 Elisabeth Braw, ‘There’s No Plan B for Port Security’. Foreign Policy 5 (November 2018).
24 A recent example of what could be a preparation for a grey-zone operation was the raid undertaken by Finnish civilian and military authorities in the Åboland Archipelago in southwestern Finland against the Russian-owned company Airiston Helmi. The company had acquired a number of properties in the archipelago, close to central SLoCs. The raid was conducted by about 400 civil servants and agents from a combination of Finnish authorities, ranging from the tax authority, national police, coastguard and the armed forces. While the official reason given for the raid was tax evasion, the broad approach with cooperating Finnish agencies and the fact that the Prime Minster and President were informed, points to the seriousness with which the Finnish authorities treated this matter. Hufvudstadsbladet, ’Tre miljoner i kontanter, två häktade – det här behöver du veta om tillslaget i Pargas och ekobrottsmisstankarna’. (17 October 2018). www.hbl.fi/artikel/tva-personer-har-haktats-det-har-behover-du-veta-om-tillslaget-i-aboland/Andrew Higgins, ‘On a Tiny Finnish Island, a Helipad, 9 Piers – and the Russian Military?’ New York Times, 1 November 2018. www.nytimes.com/2018/10/31/world/europe/sakkiluoto-finland-russian-military.html
25 Martin N. Murphy and Gary Schaub Jr, The Baltic: Grey-Zone Threats on NATO’s Northern Flank (Centre for International Maritime Security, 29 March 2017.
26 In 2016, Sweden unexpectedly redeployed its strategic reserve to Gotland. Since then, a mechanised battle group has been deployed to the island and a new regimental establishment is being built. It seems likely that the military presence on Gotland will be developed further. Niklas Granholm, ‘Did a Top Secret Threat Assessment Prompt Sweden to Deploy Troops to the Baltic Island of Gotland?’ RUSI Commentary (28 September 2016). https://rusi.org/commentary/did-top-secret-threat-assessment-prompt-sweden-deploy-troops-baltic-island-gotland
27 This paragraph is mainly based on two recent FOI-studies. Niklas Granholm and John Rydqvist (eds.), Nuclear Weapons for Battlefield Use and European Security (Stock-holm: Swedish Defence Research Agency, 2017) FOI-R—4430—SE. Niklas Granholm and John Rydqvist, Nuclear Weapons in Europe: British and French Deterrence Forces (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency, 2018) FOI-R—4587—SE.
28 Nils-Ove Jansson, Omöjlig ubåt. Stridsberättelser från ubåtsjakten och det säkerhet-spolitiska läget under 1980-talet, (Impossible Submarine. Accounts from the submarine hunts and the security situation in the 1980s). (Forum Navale nr. 52, 2014).
29 Gudrun Persson and Fredrik Westerlund, Ryska Kärnvapen: Doktrin och förmåga, (Russian Nuclear Weapons: Doctrine and Capability). (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency, Memo 6329, 17 January 2018).
30 Andy Corbett, ‘Deterring a Nuclear Russia in the 21st Century. Theory and Practice’. Nato Defence College Research Report (May 2016). www.ndc.nato.int/news/news.php?icode=950#
31 Kungl. Örlogsmannasällskapet. En Marin för Sverige (A Navy for Sweden), (Stockholm, May 2018) 16.
32 Jeremy Stöhs, The Decline of European Naval Forces.
33 A TEU is a standard Twenty Foot Equivalent Container with a length of 20 feet, width of 8 feet and height of 8.6 feet. The number of TEUs a ship can carry is a measurement of its capacity.
34 The US Customs and Border Security has operated the Container Security Initiative (CSI) since 2002, which is similar to the suggestions here. The aim of the CSI is to identify containers of interest using just such IT-based screening technologies. In addition, CSI has technological systems screening containers of relevance that also operate in ports outside of the US. www.cbp.gov/border-security/ports-entry/cargo-security/csi/csi-brief
35 Sea Surveillance Co-operation Baltic Sea (SUCBAS) is a cooperative effort where Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Norway, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Germany and the UK have shared information on the RMP in the Baltic Sea region regarding security, environment, safety and law enforcement since 2009. At the outset, reports were shared manually, but today automated exchange is implemented. The origins come from the Swedish-Finnish cooperation, SUCFIS, begun in the first years of this century. http://sucbas.org/
36 RADM Johan Norrman, Head of Operations Department, Swedish Coast Guard. Interview. Stockholm, 1 November 2018.
37 RADM (LH) Anders Olovsson, Commander Maritime Component Command (COM MCC), Royal Swedish Navy. Interview, Stockholm, 23 October 2018.
38 This was the focus of a Swedish Government Committee that analysed how to better coordinate all state naval and maritime resources. Jan Hyllander, Maritim samverkan. Betänkande av maritimutredningen (Maritime Cooperation. Report by the Maritime Committee) (Stockholm: Statens offentliga utredningar, no. 48, 2012).
39 For an overview of the process of military retrenchment in Sweden after the end of the Cold War, see Wilhelm Agrell, Fredens Illusioner. Det svenska nationella förs-varets nedgång och fall 1988–2009, (Illusions of Peace. The Decline and Fall of the Swedish National Defence 1988–2009). (Stockholm: Atlantis 2010).
40 An example of naval cooperation in the Baltic Sea is the Swedish-Finnish Naval Task Group (SFNTG), to have reached initial operational capacity in 2019 and full operational capacity by 2023.