Sweden's support for military defense is at its highest level in decades, yet the number of citizens willing to take up arms themselves is dropping. This paradox lies at the heart of a new report from the Swedish Authority for Psychological Defence (Myndigheten för psykologiskt försvar, MPF). Their annual survey reveals a nation wrestling with a changed security landscape, where belief in institutions clashes with personal commitment.
"A lower willingness to defend the country plays into the hands of the enemy," said the head of the psychological defence authority in a statement. The agency argues that a resilient society requires more than just equipment and funding. "We must have a society 'where everyone feels welcome'," the director added, linking social cohesion directly to national security.
The survey tracks Swedish attitudes towards defence and fear of conflict. The global climate, marked by war in Europe, is leaving clear marks. While 65% of Swedes express strong support for the Swedish Armed Forces, the figure for personal defence willingness—those ready to use weapons in defence of Sweden—has dipped slightly. This gap between collective endorsement and individual action forms a critical vulnerability.
The Numbers Behind the Sentiment
The MPF measurements, conducted for years, show a definitive trend. Support for Sweden's military defence is the strongest since recording began. This aligns with the government's major push to increase defence spending and reintroduce conscription. Yet, the parallel line measuring the public's own resolve to fight does not follow the same upward trajectory. It has stagnated, even declined. This creates a strategic dilemma for planners in Stockholm.
Experts see this as a symptom of modern Swedish society. "We have a generation that has known only peace," says Karl Lundgren, a sociologist at Stockholm University who studies civic duty. He meets me in a Södermalm café, not far from the MPF headquarters. "Supporting a strong army is abstract. Imagining yourself in a trench, or defending your suburb, is visceral and frightening. The survey captures that disconnect."
A Question of Belonging and Sacrifice
The director's comment about a society where "everyone feels welcome" points to a deeper analysis. The MPF suggests that defence willingness is intrinsically linked to social integration and a sense of shared destiny. In a nation that has undergone significant demographic change, this raises complex questions.
Is the willingness to defend Sweden weaker in neighborhoods with higher immigration? The MPF data does not break down figures by demographic to that degree, but researchers hint at correlations. Lundgren explains, "The concept of 'forsvarsvilja'—defence willingness—was built during the Cold War on a relatively homogeneous population. Today, it must be rebuilt on a new foundation of what Sweden means to all its inhabitants."
This challenge is visible in Stockholm's suburbs like Rinkeby or Husby. Community leaders there speak of a need for inclusion. "If people feel like outsiders in peacetime, can you expect them to be insiders in a crisis?" asks Amina Said, a youth organiser in Botkyrka. "Defence starts with trust. Trust in your neighbours, trust in the police, trust that the society values you."
The Psychological Front Line
The very existence of the Authority for Psychological Defence highlights how Sweden's concept of security has evolved. The agency doesn't handle tanks or jets; it monitors information threats, disinformation, and societal resilience. Their annual survey is a key tool. A decline in defence willingness is not just a military problem—it's seen as a win for hostile information campaigns aiming to sow discord and doubt.
"This is the psychological front line," says a security policy analyst, who requested anonymity due to their work with the government. "An adversary's goal isn't necessarily to defeat our army on day one. It's to create a narrative that resistance is futile, that the social contract is broken. A dip in 'forsvarsvilja' suggests that narrative could find fertile ground."
Daily Life in the Shadow of Worry
Despite the strong defence support, the MPF survey also records persistent public worry. The Swedish word 'oron' from the original headline means 'worry' or 'anxiety'. This undercurrent of concern runs through daily life, even amidst Stockholm's vibrant culture. It surfaces in conversations after a folk music concert at Gävle Konserthus, or over a fika in a Malmö square.
Lisa and Markus, a couple in their thirties from Uppsala, reflect this duality. "Of course we support NATO and a stronger military," says Markus, holding their toddler. "It feels necessary." Lisa nods, but adds, "Ask me if I would take a weapon? I don't know. My instinct is to protect my child by fleeing, not by fighting. Does that make me a bad Swede?"
Their hesitation is echoed across the country. It contrasts sharply with the old Total Defence doctrine, where every citizen had a role. Reviving that spirit in a digital, individualistic age is the MPF's monumental task. It involves everything from school programs to crisis communication strategies, all aiming to bridge the gap between institutional strength and personal resolve.
Looking Ahead: Society as the Foundation
The solution, according to the authorities, isn't just more patriotic advertising. It's a long-term project of social cohesion. It means ensuring that civic education in schools in Gothenburg and Luleå clearly connects rights with responsibilities. It involves civil society, from sports clubs to midsummer festival organisers, in building communal bonds.
The decline in personal defence willingness is a quiet signal, a soft metric with hard implications. As Sweden reinstates military service and welcomes new NATO allies, its greatest challenge may be internal. Can it foster the shared sense of belonging that turns abstract support for defence into a personal commitment?
The answer will determine not just the strength of Sweden's borders, but the resilience of its very society. In the end, the most critical defence system isn't made of steel, but of trust. And that, the survey suggests, is still a work in progress.