IT WAS as though the cold war had never ended. A hazy shape spotted by island residents in the southern Stockholm archipelago on October 17th quickly prompted suspicions of an incursion by a Russian submarine. The Swedish armed forces leapt into action, establishing a no-fly zone. The navy deployed fast-attack vessels (pictured), cordoning off a wide swath of water and forcing Swedish pleasure boaters seeking the last good autumn weather to leave. But after days of searching, the military is still not sure what, if anything, is out there.
Although officially neutral and not a NATO member, Sweden is no stranger to Russian provocations. Besides the possible submarine, Russian planes have violated Swedish and Finnish airspace in recent months. Against the backdrop of Russian military intervention in Ukraine, Sweden, like other countries, is growing increasingly nervous about what Moscow might do next. Sweden's new government, a coalition of the Social Democratic and Green parties, took power only a few weeks ago. The submarine hunt is something of a baptism by fire for prime minister Stefan Lofven, who has been criticised for lacking international political experience.
On Monday, in Helsinki for his first official foreign visit, Mr Lofven tried to calm the waters, cautioning the public not to jump to conclusions. But while the Finns, with their long experience dealing with Russia, are taking the situation calmly, smaller states across the Baltic are not. Once part of the Soviet Union, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are now among NATO's staunchest members, and have urged the European Union to take the toughest possible line on Russia for its actions in Ukraine.
The media are pulling out all the stops. Newspapers are full of eyewitness accounts, fuzzy cell-phone pictures of purported submarine sightings or mysterious black-clad figures popping up on island beaches. (At least one of those proved to be not a Russian frogman, but a sports fisherman.) Many recalled earlier Swedish submarine incidents, including one 33 years ago this month, when a fisherman out early one morning discovered a Soviet submarine (armed with nuclear torpedoes) that had run aground. After days of questioning the crew, and chilly diplomatic exchanges between Stockholm and Moscow, the Swedes allowed the sub to go home.
Some have accused the Swedish military of seeing phantom submarines under every rock in Swedish territorial waters, and many sub hunts over the years have led nowhere. Still, the submarine hunt plays into an increasing Swedish anxiety over security. The public does not support joining NATO, and Mr Lofven has ruled it out, though Sweden does participate in NATO's Partnership for Peace programme. But the chairman of the defence committee in parliament, Allan Widman of the opposition Liberal party, said on Tuesday that he expected his committee to recommend raising the defence budget for next year. That marks a shift from the previous conservative-led government, in which the Liberals were coalition partners, which cut defence. In the Riksdag as in the waters off Stockholm, Swedes are finding their cold war memories seem a bit less stale.
