An Independent Journal of Ideas

Gauri Khanna

Russia Wanted Less NATO Near Its Borders. Finland Has Just Decided to Join It.

For years, one of Vladimir Putin’s most persistent complaints has been that NATO expanded too far eastwards and too close to Russia. Russian officials have repeatedly described the alliance’s enlargement as a threat to Russian security and demanded that the West stop extending NATO’s military infrastructure towards Russia’s borders.

Today, Finland responded to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine by announcing that it will seek NATO membership.

The irony is difficult to miss.

Finland shares a border of more than 1,300 kilometres with Russia. For decades, it remained militarily non-aligned while cooperating closely with Western institutions. It joined the European Union in 1995, developed extensive defence relationships with NATO countries and maintained a capable national military, but deliberately stayed outside the alliance itself.

That position has now become politically unsustainable.

President Sauli Niinistö and Prime Minister Sanna Marin announced earlier this week that Finland should apply for NATO membership without delay. Today, Finland’s leadership formally confirmed the decision to seek membership.

This is not a minor foreign-policy adjustment. It is a strategic reorientation shaped almost entirely by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

Before 24 February, Finnish public opinion was generally cautious about NATO membership. After Russia invaded a neighbouring non-NATO state, support shifted dramatically.

That change tells us something important about the difference between coercive success and strategic success.

A country can use military power effectively in the short term and still worsen the environment it faces afterwards.

Russia has demonstrated that it possesses the willingness and capability to use large-scale military force against a neighbouring sovereign state. If the objective was partly to persuade countries near Russia that NATO enlargement creates unnecessary confrontation, the invasion appears to have produced almost the opposite lesson.

Finland has looked at Ukraine and concluded that remaining outside NATO carries greater risk than joining it.

That is an extraordinary strategic consequence.

Before the war, Finland’s military non-alignment helped maintain a particular equilibrium. Helsinki remained firmly integrated economically and politically with the West while avoiding a formal alliance commitment that Moscow might consider especially threatening.

Russia’s behaviour changed the expected value of that arrangement.

The question facing Finnish policymakers is not whether neutrality or non-alignment worked reasonably well for several decades. It did.

The relevant question is whether it is still the safest strategy under the conditions that exist now.

This is similar to the policy-lock-in problem I wrote about in Hong Kong. Historical success does not make a policy permanently optimal.

A strategy is only as good as the environment it was designed for.

Finland’s security policy developed under assumptions about Russian behaviour that no longer appear as reliable as they did before February.

That makes the decision to reconsider entirely rational.

The more interesting question is why Russia appears to have underestimated this reaction.

Coercive foreign policy is supposed to change another state’s behaviour by increasing the costs of refusing your preferences. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was not directed militarily at Finland, but it communicated information to every country nearby.

It demonstrated what Russia might be willing to do when a neighbour’s geopolitical trajectory conflicts with Moscow’s preferences.

Finland updated its security calculation accordingly.

This is a basic mechanism in international relations. States do not respond only to what another country does directly to them. They learn from what that country does elsewhere.

If a government violates one neighbour’s sovereignty, others revise their estimate of how likely the same behaviour might be repeated.

Reputation therefore matters even when no formal commitment exists.

Russia may believe Ukraine represents a unique historical and strategic case. Finland does not have to accept that interpretation when making its own security policy.

States make decisions under uncertainty.

If the cost of underestimating a threat is extremely high, they may prefer to insure against it.

NATO membership is precisely that kind of insurance.

Article 5 does not guarantee that war becomes impossible, but it substantially changes the expected cost of attacking a member because an aggressor risks confrontation with the entire alliance.

Finland already possesses a strong military and substantial capacity for national defence. Its interest in NATO is therefore not principally about replacing Finnish defence with foreign protection.

It is about transforming the strategic calculation of any potential attacker.

Without NATO membership, Russia can theoretically evaluate a conflict with Finland mainly in terms of Finnish capabilities and whatever outside assistance might arrive.

With NATO membership, the calculation includes the possibility of direct conflict with the United States, Britain, France, Germany and the alliance more broadly.

That is deterrence through collective commitment.

The credibility of the commitment matters more than the number of NATO flags placed outside government buildings.

This is why alliance membership is so different from the looser partnerships Ukraine received before the invasion.

Ukraine had military cooperation, weapons, intelligence relationships and political support.

It did not possess Article 5.

The difference became brutally clear when Russia attacked.

Western governments imposed extraordinary sanctions and supplied Ukraine with large amounts of military assistance, but they still refused to enter direct combat with Russia.

Finland has watched that distinction become real.

Its decision can therefore be understood partly as a response to Ukraine’s experience.

Security assurances are valuable.

Treaty guarantees are more valuable when the threat involves a nuclear-armed neighbour.

This creates a serious problem for Russia’s original argument about NATO.

Moscow has long said NATO enlargement makes Russia less secure.

But if Russian attempts to prevent enlargement convince neighbouring countries that they need NATO precisely because they fear Russia, the strategy becomes self-defeating.

This is the security dilemma operating through political choice.

Russia sees NATO expansion and becomes more threatening.

Neighbours see Russian threatening behaviour and become more interested in NATO.

Russia then interprets their interest as proof that NATO was always encircling it.

Each reaction strengthens the belief that produced the previous reaction.

The cycle can continue even if nobody originally wanted the final outcome.

But again, responsibility is not symmetrical simply because the mechanism is reciprocal.

Finland did not create the current crisis by applying to NATO before Russia invaded Ukraine.

The sequence matters.

Russia invaded.

Finnish threat perceptions changed.

Finland decided membership now provided greater security.

Understanding Russia’s fear of NATO does not require pretending the policy decisions producing Finnish membership came from nowhere.

This is where causal sequence becomes politically important.

There is also a larger lesson about spheres of influence.

Russia’s security demands before the invasion often implied that neighbouring states should remain outside Western military institutions because their choices affect Russian security.

Great powers have historically behaved this way.

The United States has its own history of resisting hostile strategic influence near its borders.

Realism therefore tells us that powerful states will attempt to shape the alignments of weaker neighbours.

But Finland’s decision demonstrates the problem with spheres of influence as a stable political system: the supposedly buffered states have preferences too.

They are not empty geography.

A policy that treats Finland, Ukraine or the Baltic states primarily as territory whose alignment should reduce Russian insecurity gives their own security concerns secondary status.

Those states then have strong reasons to resist being treated as buffers.

The stronger Russia insists that countries around it must remain outside Western alliances, the stronger some of those countries may conclude that Western alliances are necessary.

That is the paradox.

Security demanded through control can create insecurity among the people being controlled.

There is a historical reason Finland is particularly sensitive to this. Finland fought the Soviet Union during the Winter War after the USSR invaded in 1939 and subsequently developed a careful Cold War policy of military non-alignment while preserving its democratic and market institutions.

The term Finlandisation eventually emerged internationally to describe the way a smaller country can preserve substantial domestic autonomy while taking the interests of a much larger neighbour into account.

Finns themselves often dislike the way the term simplifies their history, and reasonably so. Finland was never simply a Soviet satellite.

But geography mattered.

A long Russian border does not disappear because Finland prefers Western institutions.

For decades, Helsinki responded to that fact with strategic caution.

The invasion of Ukraine has not changed Finland’s geography.

It has changed Finland’s estimate of what geography requires.

This is why strategic policy should be understood through probabilities rather than permanent doctrines.

Neutrality is not morally superior to alliance membership.

Alliance membership is not automatically more secure.

Each strategy works under particular assumptions.

For Switzerland, neutrality exists inside one geography and historical context.

For Finland in 2022, the same concept produces a different risk calculation.

Countries need strategies suited to actual threats rather than identities built around historical strategies.

There is another important distinction here: neutrality can protect a country only if potential adversaries believe and respect the neutrality.

A state cannot guarantee its own security simply by declaring that it poses no threat.

Belgium learned that in 1914.

Neutrality affects incentives.

It does not eliminate power politics.

Finland’s previous non-alignment worked partly because Russia had reasons to accept it and Finland possessed enough defensive capacity to make aggression costly.

If Finnish policymakers now believe Russia’s threshold for military coercion has changed, the equilibrium changes too.

NATO membership then becomes insurance against uncertainty rather than simply a declaration of political identity.

Russia has warned that Finnish membership will have consequences.

That is predictable.

From Moscow’s perspective, NATO gaining a new member directly along such a long Russian border worsens its military position.

Russia may therefore reinforce forces or infrastructure in the region.

This means Finnish membership can genuinely increase some forms of Russian insecurity.

Again, security is being redistributed.

Finland becomes safer because attacking it becomes more dangerous.

Russia may feel less safe because NATO’s collective-defence zone moves directly to another large section of its border.

There is no contradiction in those statements.

The political question is what caused Finland to decide the trade-off had become worthwhile.

That brings us back to Ukraine.

Before Russia’s invasion, many Finns apparently preferred the autonomy and lower confrontation risk associated with military non-alignment.

After watching a non-NATO European state attacked by Russia, the expected cost of remaining outside an alliance increased.

The invasion effectively changed the price of Finnish neutrality.

Finland decided it had become too expensive.

There may also be consequences for Sweden. Sweden has maintained military non-alignment for even longer and is conducting its own rapid reassessment of NATO membership. Its debate is closely connected with Finland because the two countries’ security positions are intertwined.

As of tonight, Sweden has not yet made the same final announcement, so it would be premature to treat the two decisions as identical.

But the direction of debate itself demonstrates how dramatically Russia has changed Nordic security politics.

This may become one of the largest strategic consequences of the war irrespective of battlefield developments.

Wars are often evaluated territorially.

How much land did one side capture?

Which city changed hands?

Which army advanced?

Those measurements matter.

But strategy has to include the political responses generated outside the battlefield.

If Russia gains territory in Ukraine while causing neighbouring countries to join NATO, causing Germany to increase defence spending dramatically and causing European governments to reduce dependence on Russian energy, the net strategic outcome cannot be measured through a map of Ukrainian territory alone.

This is where tactical success and strategic success diverge.

A tactical action achieves an immediate military objective.

A strategic action improves your long-term political position.

The first can undermine the second.

Military history is full of victories that created larger political defeats because the winner failed to account for how other actors would respond.

It is much too early to know where Russia’s war ultimately fits on that spectrum.

But Finland’s decision gives us one measurable response already.

A country that spent decades outside NATO has decided Russia’s behaviour makes NATO membership safer than continued non-alignment.

That is not the response Moscow wanted.

There is also a broader lesson for coercive diplomacy.

Threats work partly because they create fear.

Too little fear and the target ignores the threat.

Too much fear and the target may search for stronger allies.

The coercer therefore needs to generate enough concern to obtain compliance without generating so much concern that the target fundamentally changes its strategic orientation.

Russia appears to have crossed that threshold with Finland.

This is similar to an economic problem. Raise the price of an activity moderately and people reduce consumption. Raise it enough and they search for substitutes.

Russia increased the perceived cost of Finnish non-alignment.

Finland found a substitute.

NATO.

That does not mean Finland’s accession is guaranteed immediately. NATO membership requires agreement from all existing members, and the political process still has to occur.

But today’s decision itself is historically significant because the strategic preference has changed.

Finland is no longer asking whether membership would unnecessarily provoke Russia.

It is asking whether remaining outside NATO leaves Finland unnecessarily exposed to Russia.

The reference point has reversed.

That may ultimately be the most consequential strategic mistake a coercive power can make.

Russia wanted its neighbours to take Russian security concerns more seriously.

Finland has.

It looked at what Russia now appears capable of doing and concluded that its own security requires a stronger military alliance.

Sometimes making other countries fear you increases your influence over them.

Sometimes it makes them organise against you.

Power consists partly of knowing the difference.