Whiskey on the Rocks - Part II
Soviet-Swedish relations were a complicated matter stemming from a complicated history; Russia established itself in large part thanks to a defeat of the Swedish Empire at Narva and relations in the 19th century were largely defined by Russia having stripped Sweden of Finland, which had been part of the Swedish realm for centuries, in 1809 at the height of the Napoleonic Wars due to Stockholm's alliance with London. The national trauma of Finland's annexation by Russia as a semi-sovereign Grand Duchy, and that the consolation prize of Norway would for the next ninety years always have one foot out the door, was a major factor in poor, cold Sweden's choice to pursue a policy of strict armed neutrality from then on, even as the bear in the woods behind its backyard grew stronger and stronger.
It was no secret to the Khrushchev-era USSR that Sweden strongly preferred the United States, and KGB files revealed a relative awareness of negotiations between Stockholm and Washington over nuclear assistance. The massive
Flygvapnet - literally, "The Flying Weapon" - was also very clearly not intended to defend against Danes hoping to grab Scania back, nor was the sizable Swedish fleet based out of Karlskrona on the Baltic coast intended to retake Swedish Pomerania. The defensive neutrality was intended to defend almost exclusively against a Soviet incursion, and for good reason - simple geography.
In the event of a war with NATO, Russia's first priority would be to secure access to the North Atlantic, and Sweden lay between Russia, Soviet-aligned Finland
[1] and NATO-member Norway. From a purely strategic standpoint, this meant that Sweden's neutrality would have to be violated quickly and overwhelmingly as part of a Soviet press to the North Sea. This was why Soviet submarines were also in the Baltic at the ready, why mapping the Swedish coastline down to the distances between individual trees was the job of spies along the coast, and why the USSR was blase about the rumors of Sweden enjoying some kind of top-secret reciprocal defense arrangement with the United States. It didn't really matter if Sweden was cozier than met the eye with NATO, because if and when the balloon went up, they were a speed bump ahead of the Soviet war machine. Or so the thinking in Moscow went.
Relations between Stockholm and Moscow in the 1970s were not good. As much as the American governments of Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford despised Olof Palme, what was often missed in his insistence that the two superpowers were morally equal was that it was just as much of a critique of Eastern communist imperialism as it was the Western capitalist kind. Certain right-wing analysts at the CIA may have regarded anyone to the left of Lyndon Johnson as a Soviet sympathizer waiting to happen but the reality was that Palme's Sweden was no friend to the Soviet Union and indeed part of what had sunk his government in 1976 was a major scandal over a secret intelligence agency known as the
Informationbureau that was designed to spy on suspected Communist agents. The election of the center-right government of Thorbjorn Falldin in that year had only made relations worse, even if there was no chance for Sweden to join NATO even with the change over to a more pro-West administration.
The October Crisis of 1981 between Sweden and the Soviet Union was thus partially predictable due to the provocations of Soviet military activities in the Baltic and deteriorating relations, but also something of a surprise. Sweden was content as always to take a defensive but cordial posture towards their neighbors, as they had when said neighbor was still Tsarist Russia, and the rise of Yuri Andropov had, ironically, seen a USSR turning inwards in its economic reforms, anti-corruption campaigns, and efforts to first and foremost strengthen its hold over its Eastern European Communist periphery before engaging in adventurism abroad, such as Andropov's push to limit Soviet involvement in Afghanistan to military advisors and KGB assassins. The goodwill of the 1980 Olympics and Andropov's ambiguous foreign policy had left many, including most Western governments, feeling that
detente was holding fast, even as events in Poland deeply concerned them (and the Politburo).
That was the context in which U-157 running aground mere kilometers from the secret passages into Karlskrona Naval Base occurred, a time of modest but slowly relaxing tensions that were little different from what had come before. The Swedish Navy immediately swarmed the submarine and negotiated its captain's surrender; as he was leaving the submarine, however, a Swedish inspector with a Geiger counter got a strong radiation reading that suggested nuclear warheads were onboard and shouted as such to his comrades. A Soviet sailor got spooked and opened fire, and in the crossfire his captain was killed; Swedish soldiers immediately stormed the submarine to secure the crew.
In Stockholm, Moscow, and across the West, telephone lines between intelligence chiefs, defense ministers and heads of government and state lit up...
[1] To an extent... they weren't WARPAC or Communist, after all. The term "Finlandization" exists for a reason!