How Finland fights the Russian bear by being a porcupine, General Hägglund explains

When it comes to Finland’s national defense and its neighbor to the east, the Finns have a favorite motif: a bear trying to make a meal of a porcupine.

“The metaphor symbolizes deterrence through resilience,” explains General Gustav Hägglund. “Russia – the bear – may be powerful, but attacking Finland – the porcupine – should be made so painful and so costly that it would never be worth the attempt.”

We’re sitting in Hägglund’s home of 30 years, with a lush garden view and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. He pours fresh coffee and nods to the large portraits on the wall behind him — former Finnish President Sauli Niinistö and, above that, Hägglund’s late wife, Ritva. “My two former bosses,” he says.

He argues that his country’s real security doesn’t rest on any special alliance or weapons system, but on something harder to copy: national will. In Hägglund’s view, Finland’s long history of training, arming and even psychologically preparing its citizens has created a society that is simply too costly to attack, given the likely level of resistance.

Roots of a resilient nation

For Hägglund, success of this strategy lies less in the military might of Finland’s defense and more in his country’s mindset. A mindset well known to Russia, with whom it shares a 1,340-kilometer (833 mile) border.

“They are very reluctant to come to Finland because they know that here they will have to fight,” Hägglund says simply. His remark sums up a century-old reality: Finland is the only continental European nation to have fought off invasion during World War II and stayed both democratic and independent ever since. During the Winter War of 1939–40 and the Continuation War that followed, Finnish troops held back the much larger Red Army at a terrible cost, but without surrender.

That experience forged what Finns call maanpuolustustahto — the will to defend. And in his memoir Kenraalin iltahuuto (2018), Hägglund describes it as the single most important element of security. Weapons and alliances, he writes, are secondary: without will and unity, even the best equipment is meaningless. True deterrence, in his view, rests on moral cohesion, or a shared conviction that the nation is worth defending.

Europe’s past complacency

It was this conviction, Hägglund believes, that later kept Finland from following much of Europe into what he calls post-Cold War complacency. He notes that NATO itself had been made for one purpose — to contain the Soviet Union — and when that threat collapsed, so did a lot of the urgency. After retiring as Finland’s Chief of Defense in 2001, Hägglund became the first chairman of the European Union Military Committee in Brussels, where he saw the shift up close. “Almost all European countries disarmed when they became NATO members,” he recalls. “They started speaking about crisis management and helping the U.S., and not about defending their own countries.”

Finland went another way. Still outside NATO at the time, it held on to universal conscription, built a large reserve — around 280,000 to 300,000 battle-ready soldiers — and kept territorial defense at the center of policy.

“NATO is an addition to the Finnish defense, not the backbone,” Hägglund says. “The backbone is always our own defense.” He laughs heartily. “And that difference is why Finland remains the porcupine the bear would prefer not to feast on.”

Before Brussels, Hägglund had already built a long international career, first as a peacekeeper in the Middle East, serving in UN missions between Israel and Egypt and later as Force Commander of the UN Disengagement Force in the Golan Heights (1985 to 1986) and Force Commander of the UN Interim Force in Lebanon (1986 to 1988).

“That experience taught me how limited peacekeeping is if there’s no real will to fight or defend,” he says.

Lessons from the Nordics

The conversation turns to Finland’s neighbors. Hägglund’s admiration for Nordic cooperation is clear, but so is his frustration. “I was deeply disappointed with Sweden’s lack of preparedness,” he says. After the Cold War, Sweden dismantled most of its territorial defense and cut conscription entirely, relying instead on international peacekeeping missions and what Hägglund calls “the illusion of safety.” He adds that rebuilding a defense force, especially the officer corps and public mindset, takes decades. “It will take Sweden until 2035 before they reach anything close to what we have.”

Norway and Denmark, he notes, kept limited conscription and stronger NATO ties, yet still focused more on expeditionary operations than homeland defense. In contrast, Finland kept training its citizens, building bunkers and stockpiling supplies as if history could still repeat itself.

“We didn’t believe in peace forever,” Hägglund says soberly.

The Bear’s new tactics

But even the most resilient porcupine, Hägglund suggests, should keep its quills sharp in a world that is changing fast. What worries him now is not Finland’s readiness, but the shifting battle tactics.

Russia no longer needs to invade to cause trouble. Hybrid warfare, like cyber interference, drones, disinformation, even pushing refugees across the border, has become the modern way to test his country’s defenses.

The tactics are new, but the aim is the same: to unsettle and sow chaos. “That’s why the fence is important,” Hägglund says, referring to the barrier going up now along Finland’s eastern border. This is a planned 200-kilometer (125 miles) wall of steel and sensors, which he calls a practical response to new kinds of pressure from Moscow.

But the threat of traditional warfare also remains and Finland’s answer is always readiness. In the context of lessons from Ukraine, Hägglund gives a dry laugh. “Frankly, the Finnish military should give Putin a medal for showing us how weak the Russian army really is.”  He leans back, amused but not complacent. “But still, we have to ready for everything.”