Arctic Spillover? Military Signalling in the European Arctic Before and After the Full-Scale Invasion of Ukraine

Introduction

How has Russian and Western military activity in the European Arctic evolved following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022?¹ Are we seeing a more forward-leaning and assertive Russia, or has the war in Ukraine left the country’s armed forces in the north largely unaffected? Similarly, have NATO and its allies strengthened their presence in the north, just as they have along the Russian and Belarusian borders? In short, are we witnessing an intensified mutual deterrence posture in the European Arctic?

Given that the Russian Northern Fleet hosts the majority of the country’s sea-based strategic nuclear arsenal, these are important questions for global security. Russia’s Arctic-based strategic submarines (SSBNs) are a cornerstone of its nuclear second-strike capability, and therefore pivotal to global nuclear stability. Increased or more assertive military activity in the European Arctic could destabilize this strategic balance.

As such, different logics may apply to the respective deterrence postures of Russia and NATO allies in this region compared to military deployments along NATO’s eastern border. Put another way, even if the European Arctic is far from immune to the deteriorating relationship between Russia and the West, it may play out differently in terms of military signalling and deterrence posture, with the presence of strategic nuclear weapons incentivizing both sides to maintain stability.

Nonetheless, judging from claims by the NATO officials quoted above and media reports made since the invasion (Walsh & Dean, 2022; Williams & Novak, 2023), military tensions in the Arctic do indeed appear to be on the rise. Perhaps this is only to be expected given that the increasingly strained relationship between Russia and the West has already impacted not only international organizations, but global economic, cultural and sporting relations. Hence, almost all cross-border engagement between the Western Arctic states and Russia has come to an end since 2022. Trade, investments, travel and other interactions have all but ceased due to the comprehensive sanctions currently in place, while the main Arctic governance body – the Arctic Council – is barely operational (Canova & Pic, 2023; Paukkunen & Black, 2024).

Building on Åtland et al.’s (2022, 2024) excellent research contributions, which explore the evolution of Russian live-fire exercises in the European Arctic, this article broadens the enquiry to incorporate more data from both the Russian and Western sides. The overriding research question is also broader, encompassing how the two sides’ military postures evolved in the region prior to and after 2022.

Åtland et al. (2024) argue that Russia has moved from “signalling” to “bolstering”: in other words, Russia may have shifted its “motives, intentions and strategic priorities” in the High North from geopolitical messaging (e.g., signalling displeasure with NATO’s presence) to internal bolstering – namely, strengthening its bastion defence capabilities in the Barents Sea (Åtland et al., 2022, pp. 154–155). While this analysis may be correct, my aim here is not to hypothesize about Russian motivations, but, rather, to spotlight developments on both sides of the divide in order to gain a better understanding of the region’s military dynamics.

Taking stock of military activity makes little sense, however, unless it is situated in the broader political context. Military manoeuvres are often – even mostly – also political, designed to send signals to both friend and foe. There is, therefore, a need to anchor the discussion in analytical categories rooted in the concepts of deterrence and signalling. To this end, this article begins with a brief theoretical discussion around the political meaning of military activity. It then discusses military posture and activity in the European Arctic (first, that of Russia; second, that of the West). Finally, it offers conclusions.

The Political Meaning of Military Activity

As elsewhere, any study of military developments in the European Arctic must begin by taking stock of the relevant states’ military capacities. Has there been a particular build-up, the institution of a new programme? Have there been investments or cuts, the introduction of new weapons or the decommissioning of others? In other words, has there been any change to the force structure which might impact a nation’s force-projection capacities? Military power cannot, however, be extrapolated solely from figures concerning weapons platforms and military inventories; other aspects, such as organization, doctrine, manpower, logistic and supply matters, must be considered as well.

Furthermore, the way a military force acts is important. Possession of weapons, doctrine and logistical systems are largely irrelevant without the demonstration of a willingness to use them. Only then can the military hardware assume a political meaning in the form of, among other things, deterrence, threats or resolve (Schelling 1966, Ch. 2). In this article, I therefore emphasize military activity while simultaneously taking into account relevant changes in military force structure.

Here, the term “military activity” encompasses training, exercises, flights, sailings, operations and testing – essentially, all the things a military organisation does. Every military, every branch, every force, both conventional and nuclear, trains and exercises as part of its regular activity. There is nothing inherently unusual or dangerous about this. Military activity can, however, also be employed to signal intent, strength and, of course, deterrence. This is the political dimension of military activity, where the underlying purpose is to influence the other side. Deterrence, according to Richard Ned Lebow, “seeks to prevent an undesired behaviour by convincing the party who may be contemplating such an action that its cost will exceed any possible gain” (Lebow 2017, p. 371).

Almost all military activity in the European Arctic can be considered part of a general deterrence game. General deterrence is defined as the “ongoing, persistent effort to prevent unwanted actions over the long term and in noncrisis situations” (Mazarr 2018, 4; see also Morgan 1983). Immediate deterrence, by contrast, happens when general deterrence fails – in a crisis, to avoid imminent attack (Lebow 2017, p. 374). Hence, the Russian SSBNs are the ultimate general deterrent towards the United States and NATO, while Russia’s other maritime assets serve partly to deter attacks on the SSBNs, and partly to deter allied forces from approaching Russia’s “bastion” in the Arctic Ocean (Stefanick, 2025). Western military assets, on the other hand, serve as a general deterrence against a Russian nuclear strike on the United States, as well as any pre-emptive strike on the sea lines of communication used by NATO countries and their allies.

According to deterrence theory, allied deterrence in the European Arctic can also be considered both a direct and extended deterrence. The former refers to efforts made to prevent attacks on a country’s own territory; the latter to third party (allies’) efforts to deter attacks. The theory also differentiates between deterrence by denial and by punishment; here, the former is an intent to “deter an action by making it infeasible or unlikely to succeed”, while the latter “threatens severe penalties, such as nuclear escalation or severe economic sanctions, if an attack occurs” (Mazarr, 2018, p. 2). Both these forms of deterrence are at play in the European Arctic: conventional forces deter Russia from attacking NATO by being strong enough to deny Russian success, reinforced by the deterrence through the punishment provided by NATO’s nuclear umbrella should this be ignored.

It is somewhat peculiar that deterrence theory has traditionally been explored within a rationalist theoretical epistemology, according to which actors on both sides will interpret and respond to threats in similar ways. Game theory has, for instance, been widely used to theorise deterrence “games”. However, such approaches overlook the fact that deterrence relies heavily on the relevant actors’ subjective interpretation of each other. Deterrence is, after all, about convincing the other party not to take action due to the consequences this would have, which means taking account of the political and socio-cultural context within which both sides are embedded (Lebow, 2017, pp. 374–5).

In recognition of this, more recent theoretical approaches have stressed the intersubjective nature of deterrence. At its core, deterrence is built on communication and reciprocal interpretation. Scholars with a constructivist epistemology have therefore analysed deterrence as, for example, a ritual (Mälksoo, 2021) or securitizing move (Lupovici, 2019). What these theories share is an emphasis on deterrence as a kind of political performance. Deterrence can fail or be misinterpreted, depending on context and circumstances (Lebow & Stein, 1994). This theoretical approach is primarily concerned with questioning the assumptions underlying deterrence – both as it is practised and as it has traditionally been theorized – rather than developing a policy-relevant logic of deterrence.

A central element of deterrence is signalling. As Robert Jervis argues, signals in international relations are “issued to influence the receiver’s image of the sender” (Jervis, 1970, p. 18). In the context of this article, signalling implies the conscious use of armed forces to communicate “intent, resolve, or capability” to an opponent (Gartzke et al., 2017, p. 19, cited in Åtland et al., 2024, p. 148). Following the non-rationalist theorists, we can therefore consider signalling a subjective attempt to convey both the ambition and capacity to act. In effect, signals are a form of political communication, although it is far from certain how the other side will receive them.

Signalling, as a term, fits well with the military activity seen in the European Arctic. Despite NATO deterrence in the Baltic states and the eastern border being largely conducted through troop deployment (the so-called Enhanced Forward Presence, or EFP), the alliance has barely any permanent presence in the European Arctic besides the national forces of the Nordic countries. Finland has stated it intends to establish a NATO Forward Land Force, but primarily as a framework rather than a standing force; Sweden has no such plans, while Norway has a stated policy of not hosting permanent NATO bases during peacetime.

As a result, NATO or allied activity in the European Arctic is largely expeditionary: aircraft and navy vessels visit the region to exercise, train, show their flags or to collect intelligence. This constitutes a more dynamic extended deterrence compared to a static land force base. Here, the signal sent by a visit from (say) a nuclear-capable B-2 Spirit bomber can be interpreted as very different from that sent by a platoon of U.S. Marine Corps exercising in the Finnish forest. Furthermore, signalling can be used to create a new normality – that is, through increased presence in a region, or a certain behavioural pattern, an actor signals commitment. For instance, by regularly operating across a particular maritime area, an actor can signal to their opponent that these are indeed international waters, where freedom of navigation applies. So-called freedom of navigation operations (FONOPS) are typically designed to send such signals.

To summarize, NATO’s deterrence in the European Arctic can be considered a general deterrence, consisting of both extended and direct deterrence, building on logics of both denial and punishment; these concepts are communicated through the signalling that the alliance’s military activity represents. Russian deterrence, meanwhile, is general but only direct (not extended), while also building on logics of both denial and punishment. While variations in activity by each side imply variations in signalling, and therefore potentially different forms of deterrence, it is the political context that determines exactly how these intersubjective signals are received.

This article seeks, however, to demonstrate the evolution of deterrence signalling before and after 2022 rather than to interpret motivations. Towards this end, it argues that changes in routine military behaviour are a good way of capturing new signalling, and therefore evolutions in deterrence posture. If an activity intensifies, changes qualitatively or switches geographical location, it can be regarded as a new signal to the other side. Thus, increased exercising activity, testing of new weapons or a more forward posture may signal intensified deterrence.

Notwithstanding this, it is important to bear in mind there could be other reasons behind changed behaviour: budget cuts, weather conditions, accidents or domestic politics, for example; not everything need be a signal of deterrence. We must also take account of confounding factors. The Covid-19 pandemic most likely negatively impacted levels of military activity in 2020 and 2021, meaning an increase in military activity levels since then may simply represent a return to normality. In short, numbers are not enough – quantitative data of military activity must be backed up by qualitative assessments that take account of such anomalies.

With all this in mind, we now turn to some key military activity indicators in the European Arctic. Below, the article assesses Russian and Western military activity in the region before and after February 2022, looking out for any changes or anomalies.

Methodologically, the data was compiled from various unclassified sources, including media reports, Russian official outlets, and information graciously shared by the Norwegian Armed Forces and the Icelandic Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The data does not cover all military activity, but, rather, selected snapshots that reveal a pattern when combined. Given there are no unclassified sources covering all military activity in the Arctic, there nevertheless remains a risk that the available sources do not give an accurate or representative picture.² A related methodological challenge is that, due to the high degree of secrecy surrounding many military operations, open-source information may have significant gaps, potentially drawing analysts towards weak or erroneous conclusions. In addition, some sources – particularly on the Russian side – may have been deliberately manipulated to send a particular message. In the service of validity, a draft version of this article was read and commented on by experts with access to classified information. At a minimum, this makes it more likely that conclusions drawn are within the parameters of assessments made in Western defence circles.

Russian Military Activity in the European Arctic

The Northern Fleet has been a cornerstone of Soviet and Russian security since the Cold War. With its associated air and ground forces at the Kola Peninsula, the fleet is by far the largest military force in the European Arctic. The Northern Fleet’s main task is to secure Russia’s nuclear second-strike capability (i.e., to provide a strategic nuclear deterrence), meaning its core weapons platform is SSBNs. The majority of the rest of the fleet, and the associated air and ground forces, are primarily tasked with protecting the SSBNs and the infrastructure they rely on. More specifically, Russia’s “bastion defence” – a term that goes back to the Cold War – refers to the SSBNs deployed in the Barents Sea and north under the Arctic icecap, alongside forward defence efforts prepared by the Northern Fleet from the Barents Sea through the Norwegian Sea and southwards. More recently, technological developments have somewhat altered how the bastion defence has been operationalized, with range and precision prioritized over quantity. Thus, although the Northern Fleet has roughly only a tenth of the vessels it had during the height of the Cold War, each is equipped with precision-guided cruise missiles, rendering them much more potent than was previously the case (Kvam, 2021; Kjellén, 2022; Boulègue, 2024).

Russia’s naval fleet and its associated infrastructure have been subject to an ongoing modernization process for more than a decade (IISS, 2024). Borey-class SSBNs are gradually replacing the old Delta-class, while the new Yasen-class multi-purpose submarine, designed to be difficult to detect once submerged, has attracted particular Western attention (Bredesen & Friis 2020). These submarines not only protect the bastion; they represent a potential threat to both NATO maritime operations in the North Atlantic and, given they are equipped with Kalibr cruise missiles, which can carry nuclear warheads, European and North American countries.

Russian shipbuilding is continuing at a fairly steady pace, with the Northern Fleet “gradually taking receipt of new vessels” (Norwegian Intelligence Service, 2025, p. 25). Several submarines, frigates, corvettes and other vessels are either under construction or planned, and although Western sanctions may have slowed down some production lines, they have yet to significantly hamper Russia’s overall naval modernization (Petersen, 2024).

Together, Putin’s increased emphasis on the strategic importance of the Arctic for Russia and the purported danger posed by NATO and the West have bolstered the Northern Fleet’s standing within the Russian armed forces. The fleet constituted a distinct military district up until 2023, when, in the context of a broader reorganization, the Kremlin decided to place the Navy directly under its command; Russia’s land and air assets on the Kola Peninsula, meanwhile, were placed under the re-established Leningrad military district. An apparent response to Finland and Sweden joining NATO, this should probably not be regarded as signalling any diminished significance of the Arctic or Northern Fleet; on the contrary, the fact that the Russian Navy is severely constrained in the Black and Baltic Seas further increases the Northern Fleet’s relative importance for the Kremlin.

The Kola Peninsula is also home base for a number of strategic bombers, potentially capable of reaching targets in America and Europe, as well as the above-mentioned multi-purpose submarines. In addition, ground-launched cruise missile systems are present in the Northern Fleet. Last but not least, Arctic waters are often used by Russia to test new weapons systems. In recent years, this has included various hypersonic missiles, such as the Sarmat and Kinzhal missiles, and the autonomous underwater torpedo Poseidon (Norwegian Intelligence Service, 2024, 2025). Overall, Russian military activity in the Arctic is much greater compared to the other Arctic countries, and for almost two decades this has been reflected in the steady upgrading of Russia’s military infrastructure. The question, then, is whether there has been any observable change in this picture since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

The most visible impact has been on the three ground force brigades deployed to the Kola Peninsula home base. According to Western intelligence, the vast majority of these forces have been redeployed to Ukraine, leaving the Northern Fleet with only 20% of its pre-2022 ground force capacity (Nilsen, 2023a).

The air force based on the Kola Peninsula remains intact, however, with few, if any, aircraft redeployed to Ukraine. On the contrary, the number of strategic bombers at the Olenya airfield has reportedly increased, apparently to reduce the risk of Ukrainian drone attacks on parked aircraft (Nilsen, 2023b). Even so, Ukrainian long-range drones targeted the Olenya airfield three times in 2024 (Nilsen, 2024), and these bomber aircraft are still being used to attack Ukraine. The Northern Fleet itself (i.e., the navy) is also more or less unaffected by the war, except for a few vessels deployed to the Eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea.

We now turn to the activities of Russian forces in the European Arctic in order to see whether any changes or anomalies can be discerned.

Russian activity: Number of flights from Kola and westwards

Whenever a Russian military aircraft is headed west or south along the Norwegian coast, it is registered by NATO. Most of the time, fighter jets are scrambled from Norway to identify the Russian aircraft. This represents a reciprocal signalling ritual, whereby Russia demonstrates its ability to operate (and thus reach targets) far from its own territory, and NATO signals its ability to detect and intercept Russian aircraft.

While the frequency of these scrambles is recorded and publicly available, NATO does not identify or intercept all passing Russian aircraft – only those considered to be of interest or concern. As a result, the figures neither accurately reflect the total number of Russian flights, nor do they capture flights north into the Barents Sea or eastwards. Nevertheless, given that the main task of these aircraft is to contribute to the bastion defence and fend off NATO, the westward flights are particularly relevant when it comes to detecting changes in Russia’s military activity.

As Figure 1 demonstrates, there have been only slight year-on-year variations in the number of NATO scrambles during the period in question, indicating no dramatic changes in westward Russian aviation in the Arctic before and after 2022. During this time, the number of aircraft identified has remained relatively stable at below 60 per year.

Figure 1

The identified aircraft have been mainly Tu-142 maritime surveillance planes, Beriev A-50 early warning and control planes, Tu-22M bombers, and Tu-160 and Tu-95 long-range bombers. The latter two are the ones NATO is most concerned about, given their firepower and the fact they can reach European targets. Here again, the data shows a relatively stable pattern, with 4–9 identifications annually since 2021 (Nilsen, 2023c).

According to the Norwegian Intelligence Service’s annual reporting, the nature of Russian aviation beahviour was particulaly assertive in 2017. That year, Russian aircraft conducted simulated attack profiles on the Norwegian mainland and allied vessels no less than three times (Johnsen, 2018). This kind of behaviour has not been reported since.

Number of exercises and firings reported online

Given that all military units train and exercise on a regular basis, military exercises are not in themselves an indicator of political intent or signalling: again, it is the breaks from routine exercise activity that are worth noting. Exercises are, however, extremely difficult to count or “measure”, varying widely in terms of size, scope, focus, duration and location; routine exercise, moreover, may change and evolve between different executions. What counts as “abnormal” can therefore be hard to determine, and caution is necessary if analytical conclusions are to be inferred from exercise patterns.

Further care is required in light of the fact that we are wholly reliant on public reporting of Russian exercises. Russia’s turn towards authoritarianism has led to the virtual extinction of a free media, allowing official data to be routinely manipulated. As such, official data on Russian military exercises in the Arctic likely contains gaps, deceptions and other flaws.

Nonetheless, and with these caveats in mind, we counted the number of times the Russian Ministry of Defence’s website mentioned the terms “exercise” (учен) and “shooting/firing” (стрельб) from 2015 to 2023.³ The search was limited to articles tagged with “Northern Fleet”. As a minimum, this tells us how often the Russian Ministry of Defence (MoD) has mentioned these terms online and how this has evolved over time. What remains uncertain, however, is the extent to which these numbers reflect actual military activity. Increases in the mention of exercises could, for instance, be reflective of a new media strategy on the part of the Russian Ministry of Defence rather than an actual increase in the number of exercises. On the other hand, it may be that the Northern Fleet is primarily concerned with presenting what it does to the power centre in the Kremlin rather than to Western observers, meaning the reporting may be relatively accurate. In the context of the ongoing war, one would assume that most branches of the military are eager to demonstrate their relevance and successes to the Kremlin.

We found that the percentage of “exercises” and “shooting/firing” hits in the overall reporting from the Russian MoD fell from about 30% to 20–25% over the course of 2022 and 2023. As can be seen in Figures 2 and 3, in terms of actual numbers, mentions of both words increased markedly for a number of years following 2015. During 2022 and 2023, however, there was a clear drop in cases for both “exercises” and “shooting/firing”.

Figure 2

Figure 3

While strictly speaking these numbers only measure website hits, they may be reflective of a comparable reduction in Northern Fleet exercise and firing activity since the full-scale war began. Such a development would be unsurprising given the massive deployment of land forces to Ukraine. Conversely, had there been an increase in such activity in the Arctic, it seems likely the Northern Fleet would have been keen to communicate this. Thus, the absence of any increase in reporting points to reduced or unchanged exercise activity by Russian forces in the Arctic over the past couple of years. In other words, there is no indication of intensified signalling through military exercises or shooting/firing since 2022.

Western Military Activity in the European Arctic

While NATO does not have any official strategy or policy for what it labels the High North, the region was mentioned for the first time in the alliance’s 2020 Strategic Concept with reference to the potential threat Russian forces represent to allied sea lines of communication. The High North and the North Atlantic are also covered in Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR)’s new suite of defence plans – specifically the plan for the North-West under the command of JFC Norfolk, Virginia.

Canada aside, in the European Arctic only the Nordic countries have any military infrastructure north of the Arctic Circle.⁴ The enlargement of NATO to include Finland in 2023 and Sweden in 2024 significantly strengthened the alliance’s defence capacity in the north, even if the two countries’ forces were already closely aligned with NATO prior to their formal incorporation into SACEUR’s force structure. The enlargement enhances the defence of both the Baltic states and Norway in terms of air, land and naval forces. From Moscow’s perspective, the shift ties up Russian forces along the Finnish border and poses a potential new threat to the Kola Peninsula. Even so, the combined Nordic force still depends on the extended deterrence provided by their NATO allies; indeed, the securing of an extended deterrence was the chief motivation behind Finland and Sweden joining NATO.

NATO allies regularly sail or fly both to and through the European Arctic in the interests of deterrence; allied forces have performed exercises in Norway and around Iceland for decades, and similar exercises are increasingly taking place in Finland and Sweden. The United States, which has pre-deployed materiel in Norway and invested heavily in military infrastructure during the Cold War, recently signed new Security Defence Agreements with all the Nordic states – a framework that facilitates American investments in existing Nordic military bases. The UK has its own training grounds in Norway, while Dutch, German and French forces also visit regularly. Defence integration and interchangeability are current buzzwords at NATO, indicating closer operational cooperation than ever before.

Finally, the launch of the aforementioned new generation Russian submarines in recent years has further attracted Western intelligence assets and maritime patrol aircrafts to the European Arctic.

Allied Port Visits

Renewed engagement by NATO allies in the north can also be measured by the number of port calls in Norway. Given the long distances involved, many vessels take the opportunity to dock, allowing them to, among other things, replenish supplies and change crews. Not all naval vessels operating in the north head specifically for the European Arctic, but many likely do. While Figure 4 does not distinguish between types of vessels, it nonetheless shows that the number of allied port visits more than doubled from 135 in 2021 to well above 300 in 2022; this higher rate of visits was largely maintained in subsequent years. Furthermore, if we narrow it down to just U.S. and British vessels (Figure 5), the two major allies displaying the greatest interest in the European Arctic, the trend is even more pronounced: from 48 in 2021 to 105 in 2023, 169 in 2023, and 128 in 2024.

Figure 4

Figure 5

A related dataset represented in Figure 6 shows the number of nuclear-powered vessels visiting or docking in Norway and Iceland. These are typically allied (U.S., British and French) submarines. Five allied submarines docked in Iceland in 2023 and 2024, while there was a steep increase of such visits in Norway following the initiation of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022: from 3 in 2021 to 15 in 2023, to 26 in 2024. These submarine visits are also sometimes reported in the media (Nilsen, 2020; Paust, 2024) or even communicated publicly by the forces themselves (U.S. Naval Forces Europe-Africa/U.S. 6th Fleet, 2024) – an explicit signalling act.

Figure 6

Conclusion

Military capacity, in terms of available systems and firepower, indicates a state’s ability to defend itself or use force to achieve its political objectives. Thus, changes in this capacity –through rearmament or disarmament, for instance – offers a basic indication of the corresponding change in ability. As this article has argued, however, a state’s level of military activity provides an equally significant indicator of its force posture. Military activity in the European Arctic, as elsewhere, has a double function: first, to train and enhance force capabilities, and, second, to signal capacity and intent to others. Signalling as a form of political communication may indicate resolve and deterrence, with anomalies or changes in military activity a good basis upon which to infer new signals. Here, it is important to acknowledge that while such changes may imply a political signal, it should not be assumed always to be the case. To this end, the article has set out empirical data regarding military capacity and activity in the European Arctic prior to and following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, thereby providing a rough overview of both Russian and Western military activity during this period.

The data indicate that Russian military capacity in the European Arctic has gradually increased since about 2008. While the number of weapons platforms is not comparable to Cold War figures, today’s systems are far more capable and lethal, which largely compensates for the reduction in vessels and aircrafts. The war in Ukraine does not appear to have significantly impacted this modernization programme, as Russian activity in the European Arctic has neither increased nor intensified since 2022. Land forces, however, have been significantly reduced, which may account for the cancellation of Zapad in 2023. Air and sea forces operate more or less as before, although the total number of exercises may have been reduced. Even so, Russia continues to use the Arctic for weapons testing and maritime activity, with no indication the Kremlin considers the region to be of lesser strategic importance than before. Russia’s general deterrence posture thus remains unchanged.

Western military capacity increased significantly with Finland’s and Sweden’s incorporation into NATO. While the alliance does now represent a far more diverse military challenge to Russia as a consequence, the Nordic states possess little in the way of offensive military capacities, such as cruise missiles, and the land forces close to Kola are comparatively small. It is therefore primarily through airpower that the Nordics can signal deterrence towards Russia.

Non-Nordic Western activity and presence in the European Arctic have also increased. This began in 2019–20, from a situation of almost no presence, and increased again after 2022. Again, however, this activity is relatively limited. While the deployment of both U.S. and British carrier groups and the BTF to the north must be regarded as strong military signalling of extended deterrence, this activity was initiated before 2022. Western forces also appear to have shown restraint when it comes to displaying military force in the proximity of the Russian border or in the Barents Sea.

Importantly, there have been few reports of incidents or improper operational behaviour involving Russian aircraft or vessels from either side during this period. Compared to the Black Sea, Baltic Sea and other places, where several incidents of alleged “rogue behaviour” have been reported, the conduct of mil-to-mil relations in the European Arctic is apparently routine and professional, including after 2022. Ongoing signalling through military activity appears to be carefully calibrated by both sides to avoid potential incidents.

In short, whereas increased political tensions between Russia and the West have had a profound negative political, economic, social and scientific impact on Arctic governance and cooperation, this is arguably less the case for the military sphere, where day-to-day business remains largely unchanged.

The NATO enlargement and pronounced Russian reestablishment of the Leningrad Military District are consequences of the war in Ukraine, and therefore a kind of spillover to the Arctic. Overall, however, operational military spillover to the European Arctic has been limited – the three drone incidents at Olenya airfield being the most significant exceptions.

Nevertheless, the political rhetoric around Arctic security remains quite elevated, raising the prospect of operational stability being tested in future. The Russian armed forces are in the midst of a costly war, which has already had devastating consequences for the ground forces based on the Kola Peninsula. The air force is occupied with regular bombings of Ukraine. All this could impact the operations, morale and behaviour of troops based in the European Arctic. On top of this, the Kremlin may one day decide to challenge Western presence in the region through more coercive signalling.

The unpredictable nature of the Putin regime is itself a strategic challenge, while the unknown outcome of the war in Ukraine further amplifies the complex uncertainties in all regions of the Arctic. Notwithstanding this, the data indicates that, so far, the Russian armed forces in the European Arctic are signalling maintenance of the status quo, rather than revisionist intent. On the other side, the West has strengthened its deterrence signalling – albeit in a measured fashion.

Competing Interests

The author has no competing interests to declare.