More than 1,500km (900 miles) from London, frenetic activity is underway in the countryside of Poland, Finland, and the Baltic States: bulldozers and diggers are constructing field defences. Anti-tank ditches, tank traps, and pillboxes are being built and installed. In all these countries, laying minefields – even controversial anti-personnel minefields – is under active consideration.
Poland is spending at least €2.5bn (£2.1bn) on its border defence system, including building a sky shield system akin to Israel’s “Iron Dome” to protect its eastern border from a growing threat from Russia.
Last May, during a meeting with European leaders in Warsaw, Poland’s prime minister Donald Tusk stated: “Creating an iron dome against missiles and drones is necessary … There is no reason for Europe not to have its missile defence shield,” confirming that work on the project had begun. He added that it requires little imagination to understand that Europe, like Israel, is also in the danger zone.
Poland’s defence project includes physical anti-tank obstacles, bunkers, and AI-powered anti-drone technologies to create early threat detection and surveillance systems. This could be the most significant national security investment in the country’s post-war history, positioning Poland as a European defence leader.
Poland is now spending €37bn (£30bn) on overall defence – 4.7 per cent of its GDP – with further increases under discussion. Meanwhile, in response to the “hybrid war” tactics on several Baltic fronts, hundreds of millions of euros are being invested by the Baltic states to strengthen their defence lines with another major project, planned by Nato members Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, set to begin in 2025.
Across much of northern Europe, more than €1bn is being spent – at speed – on building new ammunition plants, particularly for 155mm artillery shells, which Ukraine is firing at rates not seen since the Second World War.
And what is the UK’s response to an increasing global threat? The country is scrapping £500m worth of military equipment – ships, drones, and helicopters – and will conduct a strategic defence review to decide what to do next.
While defence secretary John Healey acknowledged last year that the cuts are happening amid “war in Europe, growing Russian aggression, and conflict in the Middle East”, the Strategic Defence Review (SDR) will not report until late February 2025 – if we’re lucky. Some suggest that Whitehall bureaucracy could delay it until the summer.
All the while, the clock is ticking. States across northern Europe – the liberal-democratic ones much admired for their quality of life and services – are in agreement: if Ukraine loses its struggle against Russia, the latter may be emboldened to take military action against the Baltic states, Finland, or even Poland.
The timeline for this, many experts agree, is within three to five years. In defence planning terms, that’s practically tomorrow. Even at top speed, it takes 28-30 months to order and deliver a fighter jet, 18-24 months for a tank, and 30 months for a frigate.
Further from the immediate action in Western Europe, defence budgets are also rising. French defence spending has been climbing for eight years and is projected to surpass the UK’s on a like-for-like basis by 2027. The Netherlands reversed decades of defence cuts two years ago and plans to double its budget within five years. Sweden, Norway, and Denmark are also increasing their defence spending, often with double-digit year-on-year increases.
The European defence giant has also woken up. Germany, which was among the first to drastically reduce defence spending after the Cold War, has grown its military budget by two-thirds since Russia’s 2014 invasion of Crimea.
Crucially, the 2022 invasion of Ukraine prompted a Zeitenwende (“turning point”), with chancellor Olaf Scholz pledging an immediate €100bn investment to address gaps in munitions and equipment.
Since then, Berlin has spent €30-40bn on US-supplied F-35A fighters and other systems, and over €60bn on ammunition and missiles since February 2022.
Turning back to Eastern Europe: for these nations, defence is not seen as a “nice-to-have” but as an absolute necessity. Defence spending has doubled or even tripled in these countries over the past five years. So why does the UK now appear less like a European leader and more like a laggard?
A key reason is what I call the “1,700km duvet”. To reach the UK, Russia would first need to pass through the Baltic states and Finland, cross the Baltic Sea, contend with Germany, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, and then navigate the North Sea.
When asked about the threat of a missile attack on the UK, former defence secretary Grant Shapps casually remarked that Nato allies would handle such threats as they are located between the UK and Russia suggesting he too believed in the “1,700km duvet”, under which the UK continues to snuggle.
Yet the threat is creeping closer. Incidents involving damaged undersea internet cables in the Baltic Sea raised fears of Russian sabotage. Last year, there were believed to be Russian plots for incendiary devices to be put on cargo planes in Europe, testing security systems, and Western intelligence officials suspect Russia was behind this summer’s fires at shipping hubs in Britain and Germany.
Many believe it is only a matter of time before power shortages hit the UK due to wind farm cables mysteriously breaking, or that our internet is compromised as the telecoms backbone goes down.
The UK is, in effect, defenceless against many forms of modern attack. The chief of the defence staff, Admiral Sir Tony Radakin, admitted as much during a conference in Berlin last year, where he stressed the need to follow the Nordic and Baltic countries’ example in bolstering both defence and civil readiness for war.
Despite bold rhetoric, the Royal Navy cannot deploy an aircraft carrier group without relying on US and allied ships and aircraft. The Army cannot field a full division of 15,000 soldiers from its 70,000-strong force and lacks the ammunition to fight for more than a month. The RAF has only about two dozen combat-ready Typhoons from a fleet of over 100.
The defence secretary is right to emphasise that it’s not just about spending more but spending better. However, funding does matter. If a Nato state invokes Article 5, which calls on collective defence – a situation that many experts on the Nordic and Baltic regions believe could happen within five years – the UK cannot afford to delay its response, claiming economic constraints.
Nato’s principle that “an attack on one is an attack on all” would require the UK to march to the sound of the guns – a situation for which we are woefully unprepared compared to our European neighbours.
Francis Tusa is editor of ‘Defence Analysis’
