On Christmas Eve, Swedes who opened their mailboxes hoping to find greeting cards instead received a chilling reminder of the uncertain times they live in. The 32-page brochure, which the authorities sent to the country’s 5 million households, urges citizens to consider how they would behave if Sweden were attacked. The title, “In Case of Crisis or War,” contains a series of practical tips for when an unnamed enemy invades: how to stop heavy bleeding (apply firm pressure to the wound), where to find reliable information (listen to public radio, not social media), and useful advice in the event of nuclear radiation (radiation levels are said to drop sharply after a few days). The illustrations of worried Swedes sitting in shelters make it clear that war is not something that only happens to others. It could happen to you one day.

The brochure is not intended to scare citizens, but to encourage them to prepare. A household stocked with the basics — enough to survive a few days without outside help with food, water, electricity, heating, or Netflix — is one less worry for local authorities in times of serious crisis. Such “preparation” (emergency preparation) was once the preserve of libertarians with cabins deep in the woods, a penchant for conspiracy theories, a rifle under their pillow, and a stash of canned food. Today, a basic level of survival is considered a civic duty in Europe. The Nordic and Baltic countries, with their harsh winters, proximity to Russia, and fairly strict mentalities, are predictably leading the way. Now, governments further south in Europe are starting to follow suit.
France is preparing its own version of the “doomsday playbook,” to be published before the summer. On March 26, the European Commission issued a “preparedness strategy” aimed at making society more resilient to the shocks of war and other crises. It officially recommends that citizens have a 72-hour food supply — just in case.
But what to put in the pantry? Each country that has issued guidelines has its own recommendations. The ever-organized Swiss offer a website that can generate a shopping list for future emergencies, depending on family size and eating habits. However, some things are common across Europe. Households need at least two liters of water per person per day just for drinking, plus additional for cooking and hygiene. A family of four, who wants to survive for a week, as Sweden recommends, should have a supply of close to 100 liters of water.
Canned foods, which can be stored without refrigeration and eaten without cooking, are a better choice than foods that require preparation (wartime is clearly not the time to try making that complicated soufflé you've been thinking about). Credit cards are useful, but a week's worth of cash and a full tank of gas can also be valuable - in case the payment systems stop working.

A battery-powered radio and flashlight, firewood, first aid kits, electrical tape, phone chargers, spare glasses, iodine tablets, toilet paper, buckets to collect water, copies of important documents - the list is long. Scandinavians can buy ready-made kits with all the necessary items or put them together themselves.
In addition to encouraging people to stock up, state-sanctioned prepping is intended to put a society that has become overbearing into the right frame of mind in case circumstances suddenly turn bad. The Swedes see it as part of a concept of “total defense,” which unintentionally sounds like an homage to boring Italian football tactics. The Finns talk about “comprehensive security” and are less concerned with the specific nature of the threats. A massive cyber-outage could cause a power outage that lasts for days; a natural disaster could cut off the routes that supermarkets use to deliver their goods.
The authorities want to promote the idea that protecting the state is not solely the job of the military and police. Businesses, communities and the general public also have a role to play in keeping society functioning if a crisis occurs.
“Whether you’re preparing for war or some other crisis, in practice the basic measures you take at a personal level will be largely the same,” says Peteri Korvala, secretary general of the Finnish Security Committee. Such an approach, which encompasses all types of threats, helps promote the idea even in countries far from Russia. The Covid-19 pandemic has been a useful reminder that people’s lives can change suddenly.
Above all, the authorities want to promote the idea that protecting the state is not the sole responsibility of the military and police. Businesses, communities and the general public also have a role to play in keeping society functioning if a crisis occurs. Places that are fortified in advance with even minimal preparation are less likely to be targets: there is no point in a Russian ship “accidentally” cutting a Baltic energy cable if the population is well prepared to deal with the consequences.
Even in the Nordic countries, citizens’ scouting instinct to “be prepared” waned after the end of the Cold War. (The Swedish brochure is actually an updated version of advice first given in 1943, suspended in 1991, and revived in 2018.) Just as the “peace dividend” allowed governments to cut defense budgets, the public stopped thinking about what war might mean for them personally. That is no longer the case.
Germany is among the countries now rapidly building large numbers of new shelters (Switzerland and Finland still have plenty). The introduction of compulsory military service is being considered across the continent. On March 7, Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk unveiled a plan that would require all men to undergo some form of military training.
Preparing Europeans mentally for the tougher times that may come also carries a broader, more serious message: there are limits to what a state can do for its citizens. If a crisis does come, a population accustomed to being cared for from cradle to grave may have to rely on itself - at least for a while.
Translation: NB
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