North of the north: the European Union’s emerging “Arcticness”

With the events of summer 2007, the Arctic appeared on the EU’s “neighbourhood radar”. What were seen as the region’s changing geostrategic dynamics were assumed to have consequences for EUropean security (High Representative & European Commission, 2008). However, the region has not achieved a prominent place on the EU’s domestic or foreign policy table over the last decade(s). At the turn of the millennium, EU–Arctic deliberations lacked momentum, despite strengthened physical regional presence, for example, through the establishment of the Barents Euro-Arctic Council (BEAC) in 1993, the EU accession of Finland and Sweden in 1995 and the related implementation of the ND, and continuing cooperation efforts with Russia (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, pp. 87–89). In particular, the ND and its Arctic window could have been used more extensively to raise Arctic awareness within the EU institutional framework in order to secure a place for the region in the EU’s political agenda (Weber, Reference Weber, Sprüds and Rostoks2014, p. 48). However, until 2007, the Arctic remained “a marginal note in EU foreign policy – a periphery of the periphery” (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, p. 91).

The EU is no stranger to the Arctic: it has multiple links to the region, on the geographical, legal, economic, environmental, research and regional development-related levels (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, pp. 65–84). Referring to these ties as the “EU’s Arctic credentials”, a Commission official responsible for Arctic affairs identified the EU as part of the Arctic and as linked to the Arctic. The EU affects and is affected by the Arctic (EU Policy Officer, personal communication, 4 September 2012). However, in contrast to the European North and its many international regimes where the EU is seen as a key partner, the mandate and role for the EU in the Arctic (and the AC) have remained rather limited (Aalto, Reference Aalto2013, p. 102). In order to express the EU’s very own “Arcticness”, the EU’s main institutions – the Commission, the Council of the EU (hereinafter “Council”) and the EP – have slowly but steadily developed a dedicated EU Arctic policy and have been setting common positions since 2007/2008. The list of EU Arctic policy documents to date includes 10 policy documents, as well as the above-mentioned joint policy statement on Climate Change and International Security from 14 March 2008 (see Fig. 1). Additionally, the Arctic region has been cross-referenced in, inter alia, the Integrated Maritime Policy of 2007, the Maritime Security Strategy of 2014 and, most recently, in the 2016 Global Strategy on Foreign and Security Policy for the European Union (Commission of the European Communities, 2007; Council of the European Union, 2014; High Representative, 2016).

On paper, the EU’s Arctic approach thus far has encompassed climate change and environmental protection issues, initially embedded in a broader security concept, with a touch of economic considerations (hydrocarbon and raw material resources, maritime transportation and fisheries), regional sustainable development and research, plus a concern for the livelihood of the indigenous peoples in the European Arctic. However, this terrestrial domain was rather neglected in the first policy documents; only with the 2012 Communication was more emphasis placed on the European Arctic (Stępień & Raspotnik, Reference Stępień, Raspotnik, Heininen, Exner-Pirot and Plouffe2015, p. 434). Basically, all documents have stressed the EU’s view of a distinct Arctic role, referring to the EU’s moral/normative authority in the fields of climate change, sustainable development, environmental protection and good global governance (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, p. 139). Bluntly put, a global leader in fighting climate change needs to be present in the region most affected by climate change (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, p. 170). Further, all policy documents have examined the various yet distinct relationships between the EU and the “Arctic Eight” (A8), stressing geographical, legal and political proximity: three of the A8 are EU Member States (Denmark, Finland and Sweden), two are EEA members (Iceland and Norway) and three are strategic partners (Canada, Russia and the USA). Moreover, the EU has strong institutional relations with the A8 via the AC, the BEAC, the EEA, the ND, as well as Greenland’s association with the EU as one of its overseas countries and territories. Especially the 2012 Joint Communication highlighted the need to strengthen the bilateral dialogue with its Arctic partners, Canada, Iceland, Norway, Russia and the USA. Yet, although repeatedly referred to as a “strategic partner”, the Arctic has been mentioned only in passing in regular meetings held with Canada, Russia and the USA, with no high-level Arctic dialogues or overall (bilateral) Arctic cooperation agenda ever being established (Kobza, Reference Kobza2015, p. 18; Stang, Reference Stang2016, p. 14). Despite the strong emphasis on bilateral cooperation and Arctic multilateralism expressed in policy writing, actual implementation has given rise to some questions, especially regarding our case at hand: Russia. While, for example, the 2012 Joint Communication included a specific annex on EU-financed joint EU–Russia energy projects, the 2016 document hardly mentions EU–Russia cooperation (Stang, Reference Stang2016, p. 8).

The European Union meeting Russia, in the European North and beyond

Concerning the “Arctic exception”, Aalto (Reference Aalto2013, p. 101) observed a “conspicuous lack of EU–Russia co-operation in Arctic policy-making [in an] otherwise highly institutionalized strategic partnership [and] extensive co-operation in the context of northern institutions”. This seems rather surprising, as ever since the early 1990s, the EU has assumed an important role in Northern Europe’s main intergovernmental institutions, whether the BEAC, the Council of the Baltic Sea States or the Nordic Council of Ministers (Aalto, Reference Aalto2013, pp. 103–104; Myrjord, Reference Myrjord2003). Moreover, in September 1997, Finnish Prime Minister Paavo Lipponen officially launched the “Northern Dimension Initiative” (NDI). The NDI was a political attempt at not only institutionally embodying the European North in the EU’s policy structure but also raising awareness of this new geographical “centre of gravity” of potential EUropean action – with a new border of more than 1,300 km between the EU and Russia (Aalto, Dalby, & Harle, Reference Aalto, Dalby and Harle2003, p. 7; Lipponen, Reference Lipponen, Heininen and Langlais1997). With Finland’s and Sweden’s EU membership, the EU acquired a “natural northern dimension”, a broad geographical concept in need of a related policy (Lipponen, Reference Lipponen, Heininen and Langlais1997, p. 29). The NDI was intended both to help solve problems and to enhance the EU’s presence, sensitising the EU to new regional security perspectives in view of its direct border with Russia: energy security issues but also soft security challenges such as environmental issues, nuclear risks and safety, crime prevention and minority rights (Haglund-Morrissey, Reference Haglund-Morrissey2008, p. 203; Heininen, Reference Heininen, Heininen and Käkönen1998, pp. 30–34; Ojanen, Reference Ojanen2000, p. 360; Scott, Reference Scott and Scott2006, pp. 23–24). Moreover, when Lipponen clarified his position on the EU having a distinct policy for its “northern neighbourhood”, he also urged the EU to become an AC observer: “The Arctic Council (…) is a new forum that needs to be properly built up (…). It would be only natural to have the EU among the participants, too” (1997, p. 33). Interestingly, this proposal was followed by a proposal from Russia in 1999 that the AC could serve as the EU’s “window on to the Arctic” (Arctic Council, 1999, p. 15). Although the EU officially applied for AC observer status in December 2008, the bid has not yet been successful. Canada now supports the EU’s application – after years of disagreement due to the EU ban on seal products – Russia remains opposed (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, pp. 91–92).

Until the 2004 round of enlargement, the EU remained largely silent on issues of regional security in the North, although the first form of the EU’s ND had been launched already in 1999 (Browning, Reference Browning2010, p. 407; European Council, 1999). Only after 2004 did the EU begin to view the North as an opportunity of increased regional involvement (Browning, Reference Browning2010, p. 396). Instead of aiming for a normative transformation of Russia (and the broader region) in line with European norms of liberal democracy, the post-2004 approach was more pragmatic, shifting towards the creation of spaces for interaction over common interests (Browning, Reference Browning2010, p. 404). Accordingly, the renewed ND of 2006 was viewed as giving the policy a more permanent and political character, to be used as a “political and operational framework for promoting the implementation of the EU–Russia Common Spaces at regional/sub-regional/local level in the North with full participation of Norway and Iceland” (Council of the European Union, 2005, p. 3). This renewed ND strategy transformed Iceland, Norway and Russia from being mere “objects” of the ND to involved “subjects” (Archer & Etzold, Reference Archer and Etzold2008, p. 24 and 27). Thus, the ND has been described as a common policy with equal partners used to facilitate intra-regional connections (Heininen, Reference Heininen2017, pp. 436–437). While the East and the South were considered literally as “neighbourhood”, interaction with the North was more characterised by a “partnership approach” (Heikkilä, Reference Heikkilä2006, p. 68). It should be noted, however, that Russia adopted a policy of passive resistance towards the ND after the promised partner status failed to materialise, with the Commission asserting superiority over the other partners (Browning, Reference Browning2010, p. 409; see also Laine, Reference Laine2011). Additionally, Northern regional cooperation was not necessarily linked with integration-security issues but rather to the development of regional and cross-border cooperation, aimed at creating spaces for interaction, dialogue and actions on matters of common interest. In that regard, the EU’s relationship with Russia has always been considered the main axis in Northern European regional cooperation (Aalto, Reference Aalto2013, p. 104). Whereas other political initiatives have floundered, the ND has been seen as “low-political and technical” (Haukkala, Reference Haukkala2010, p. 9) and the European North as a region where divergence in worldviews and commonalities between the EU and Russia, and also internal disagreement among Member States on how to approach Russia, have had less impact – in contrast to the EU’s Eastern Neighbourhood, as observed during the 2014 Ukraine crisis (Cadier, Reference Cadier2018; Ferguson, Reference Ferguson2018; Nitoiu, Reference Nitoiu2016).

However, from the beginning, the EU’s Arctic policy steps have lacked a specifically Russian dimension. Indeed, from a circumpolar Arctic perspective, EUropean “blaming by naming” can be observed, one that basically questions Russia’s “contradictory” position on Arctic matters – positive signals for European Arctic cooperation efforts but negative ones in the broader circumpolar format (Internal EP Briefing Paper 2015). In that regard, EU officials have seen Russia as being highly selective concerning the EU’s explicit role in the Arctic, often preferring to deal with Member States only (EU Policy Officer, personal communication, 12 July 2013), or been criticised for not being receptive to discussions on sustainable development (EU Policy Officer, personal communication, 27 November 2013). In 2016/2017, the Arctic was framed by the EU as a positive case for selective engagement with Russia in an otherwise rather tense relationship (High Representative, 2016, p. 33), signalling a shift towards limited cooperation between the EU and Russia. However, the broader stalemate, including Russia’s position on the EU’s pending AC observer status, seems unlikely to end anytime soon (Depledge & Tulupov, Reference Depledge and Tulupov2016). This tenser (Arctic) relationship between the EU and Russia can be dated back to the 2008 Russian invasion of Georgia, and particularly the Ukrainian unrest of 2013/2014 (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, p. 92). The related EU sanctions imposed on Russia in 2014 were designed, among other things, to hit Russian economic activity in the Arctic, by prohibiting European actors from engaging in the sale, supply, transfer or export of technology that could be used in offshore oil exploration (Depledge & Tulupov, Reference Depledge and Tulupov2016).

On a more abstract level, Aalto (Reference Aalto2013) concluded that Russian sovereignty concerns essentially characterise the Arctic exception in EU–Russia relations. On the one hand, this includes an Arctic perspective and the related role of great-power management of Arctic governance by the A8 – in the sense of “our Arctic only”. On the other hand, Russian sovereignty concerns are related to Russia’s general experiences of and with the EU in northern Europe, for example, with regard to the ND, EU–Russia relations as such and the wider area of the EU–Russia neighbourhood in general (Aalto, Reference Aalto2013, p. 117). But how has this exception been expressed in Russian Arctic policy?

The “European Union exception” in Russian Arctic policy

Over the last three decades, EU–Russia (power) relations have fluctuated wildly, defying simple analysis (Forsberg, Reference Forsberg2013; Forsberg & Haukkala, Reference Forsberg and Haukkala2016; Foxall, Reference Foxall2017, p. 174). The broader evolution and nature of this relation can be roughly divided into three phases (Haukkala, Reference Haukkala2015, p. 26): first, a formative phase in the immediate aftermath of the Cold War, characterised by optimism and joint efforts; the second phase, more troublesome but still marked by optimism, between 1994 and 2000, influenced by the Russian economic crash of 1998, NATO’s engagement in the wars on the Balkan Peninsula and the EU’s negative response to Russian actions in the Chechen wars (Nitoiu, Reference Nitoiu2016). In the third phase, the EU was increasingly seen as a hostile power. Despite a rather optimistic start with several concluded agreements, for example, the renewed ND or the 2006 agreement on the facilitation of the issuance of visas to the citizens of the EU and Russia, no genuine partnership was established, with Russia starting to question Western intentions during the “colour revolutions” in Georgia (2003), Ukraine (2004) and Kyrgyzstan (2005) (Foxall, Reference Foxall2017, p. 176; Haukkala, Reference Haukkala2015, p. 26). Most recently, the relationship has become further complicated by Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the ongoing conflict in eastern Ukraine. Accordingly, also the practical (geopolitical) discourse in Russia changed from being quite positive to closer cooperation (around the turn of the millennium) to becoming increasingly hostile and anti-Western (Foxall, Reference Foxall2017, p. 179). However, despite the current tensions, and the economic sanctions emplaced after 2014, Russia has remained the largest supplier of natural gas and petroleum oil to the EU, ahead of Norway (Eurostat, 2018).

For Russia (and previously the Soviet Union), the Arctic is a decisive factor in “both Russian national identity and conceptions of security and sovereignty” (Wilson Rowe, Reference Wilson Rowe and Wilson Rowe2009, p. 2) – the North is considered as the “significant economic, geo-political, and strategic engine of Russia” (Laine, Reference Laine2011, p. 167). This domestic component essentially involves Russia’s Arctic exploratory heritage and the related intention of constructing a specific Northern identity based on the “conquest of the North” (Wilson Rowe & Blakkisrud, Reference Wilson Rowe and Blakkisrud2014). Accordingly, Russia has been pursuing a “geographically clear-cut strategy between the domestic arena, where it refuses to tolerate any kind of foreign interventionism and its commitment to goodwill and cooperation in the international [Arctic] arena” (Knecht & Keil, Reference Knecht and Keil2013, p. 181). Thus, the region constitutes a “unique – and uniquely controversial – political and geographic component in Russia’s foreign policy” – a combination of committing to developing international (economic) cooperation on the one hand, and investments in militarisation of the Russian North on the other hand, with a strong discourse of protecting its national interests in the Arctic (Baev, Reference Baev2018, p. 408). And yet, the broader foreign policy discourse in the Arctic over the past decade has been guided by “cooperation first arguments”, despite the Ukrainian unrest of 2014 (Byers, Reference Byers2017; Staun, Reference Staun2017). This policy approach shifted noticeably after 2008, with a stronger Arctic narrative on building cooperation than previously (Klimenko, Reference Klimenko2016, pp. 3–6). Thus, some argue that the Ukrainian crisis has had scant impact on Moscow’s perceptions of the Arctic as a region of international cooperation and peace (Konyshev, Sergunin, & Subbotin, Reference Konyshev, Sergunin and Subbotin2017, p. 120). On the other hand, the Ukraine crisis has undoubtedly drawn attention to the military security dimension in the Arctic. Not only have NATO and Russia conducted larger military exercises in the region, joint military exercises between NATO countries and Russia have been cancelled or postponed indefinitely due to the 2014 crisis (Østhagen, Sharp, & Hilde, Reference Østhagen, Sharp and Hilde2018, p. 166).

Basically, two documents, both approved before the Ukrainian crisis, define Russia’s strategy in the Arctic. The first document, “Foundations of the State Policy of the Russian Federation in the Arctic to 2020 and Beyond”, was adopted on 18 September 2008, followed by an update in 2013, titled “Strategy for the Development of the Arctic Zone of the Russian Federation and Ensuring National Security”. Explicitly clarifying the fundamental importance of the region for Russia and broadly reflecting the country’s two main Arctic interests – economic development and (military) security – these strategic documents highlight four key priorities: climate-change mitigation, resource exploration and exploitation, sustainable development and the Arctic as a region of peace and international cooperation (Konyshev et al., Reference Konyshev, Sergunin and Subbotin2017, p. 106). They further consider the A5 as the main stakeholders in Arctic cooperation and accordingly aim to limit the influence of Arctic “outsiders” (Baev, Reference Baev2018, pp. 410–411). This being the case, Russia does not envisage much of a role for the EU in the building of the future international regime(s) for the Arctic. Moreover, the Union is predominantly seen as having a regulatory character that seeks to impose stringent standards that undermines Russia’s economic ambitions in the Arctic (Depledge & Tulupov, Reference Depledge and Tulupov2016). As such, the EU (or any of its non-Arctic Member States) is hardly mentioned in the two Arctic doctrines. In Russia’s Arctic Strategy of 2008, the EU is only mentioned once, in relation to “the inter-parliamentary interaction within the framework of the Russia–European Union partnership”. Most likely, this refers to the Partnership and Cooperation Agreement (PCA) between the EU and Russia, which entered into force in 1997, initially for 10 years and reviewed annually ever since 2007. The PCA established a political framework for regular consultation and sectoral agreements, although some dialogues are currently suspended. Similarly, the EU is also mentioned in the 2014 state programme on the “Socio-Economic Development of the Arctic Zone of the Russian Federation for the period up to 2020”, which has the same references to the EU and the BEAC as the 2008 document (The Russian Government, 2014). However, the later version of the state programme from 2017 contains no references to the EU. Additionally, the strategy also refers to the BEAC as specific venue to strengthen the relations between Russia and the other Arctic states (The Russian Government, 2008). In the strategy’s 2013 update, the EU has not found its terminological way into the paper. Although the doctrine stresses the importance and development of international cooperation in the Arctic, it only refers to cooperation efforts with the other Arctic states. Similarly, also Russian policymakers have rather been silent on the EU’s Arctic engagement. Only in December 2017, the Russian Ambassador-at-Large for the Arctic, Vladimir V. Barbin (TASS, 2017) stated that “approving of the EU’s official status in the Arctic Council is not in the agenda. (…) Considering sanctions against Russia, we believe that approving the EU’s status would be premature. Otherwise, the observer status of the EU would duplicate its representation in the Arctic Council” (own translation).

An “Arctic European Union” as seen from Russia

Over the last two decades, the EU’s role in Russia’s geopolitical discourse has changed considerably, from “one where cooperation with the EU was seen as desirable to one where confrontation with the EU seemed unavoidable” (Foxall, Reference Foxall2017, p. 186). According to Haukkala (Reference Haukkala2015, p. 37), fluctuations in EU–Russia relations “have followed and perhaps even simply reflected the general pattern of relations between Russia and the West” and greater Russian willingness to (re-)find a place in a rather unipolar EU-centric Europe. Therefore, we ask: how has the EU’s emerging Arcticness been perceived and narrated in Russia?

Our analysis identified four core narratives regarding the EU’s engagement in the Arctic: the EU as player, the EU as seeker, the EU as prohibitor and the EU as partner (see Fig. 2). These four narratives demonstrate different attitudes to the EU’s Arctic engagement depending on the time and topics of publications in the Russian media.

Source: Own compilation

Fig. 2. Core narratives of EU–Arctic engagement.

The player refers to the EU’s Arctic policy-making steps and recurs in articles published between 2008 and 2018. Basically, the narrative describes the EU’s various Arctic policy documents and its motivation of being politically involved in Arctic affairs, depicting the EU’s Arctic place among the relevant regional stakeholders. It points out that the EU is interested in developing the Arctic due to industrialisation prospects and the possibility of more business opportunities. The narrative sees environmental protection and sustainable development, as well as the economic development of the region, as key motivations for involvement in Arctic affairs. Accordingly, climate change stimulates economic activity, which could lead to the opening of new transport routes and access to natural resources. Thus, the EU is depicted as attracted by the natural resources of the region and concerned over its own energy security.

Generally, EU Arctic policy is characterised as being too broad, only weakly coordinated between the Union’s main institutions and lacking legal competences. And yet, the narrative admits that the EU plays its “classic role” of normative power in the region, developing and offering standards for preserving the environment and sustainable development, as well as protecting the rights of indigenous peoples. Moreover, the narrative positions the EU as an actor who needs support from other Arctic actors in order to be more prevalent in the region. The narrative suggests that the EU could strengthen its regional position via political consolidations. This relates in particular to a stronger political influence over Greenland and increasing cooperation with Norway and Russia.

However, the latter is specifically portrayed as challenging. It is highlighted that the active presence of the EU in the Arctic could not only create new opportunities for collaboration with Russia but potentially also complicate existing bilateral relations. In particular, this argument concerns different readings of Arctic economic development as well as the increasing geopolitical importance of the region. It has been criticised that although the various policy documents highlight the EU’s interest in cooperating with all Arctic states, they do not pay enough attention to Russia as a key strategic partner in the region.

It also noted that the EU’s restrictive measures against Russia in response to the crisis in Ukraine have a spillover effect on economic developments in the Arctic. Additionally, the EU’s Arctic engagement, including its research component, is seen as competing with pre-existing cooperative formats and programmes. In general, however, the narrative portrays the EU not only as an active Arctic player: as a regional partner, but also as a competitor to Russia. The EU is expected to intensify its involvement in the region through diplomatic and economic means.

This statement supports the proposition that since the EU is a rather new regional stakeholder, other actors have a hard time understanding the EU’s role in the Arctic (Koivurova et al., Reference Koivurova, Kokko, Duyck, Sellheim and Stępień2012, p. 361). The narrative denotes that Russian media has been following this popular understanding and picturing the EU as a new and complicated actor in the region.

The next narrative – the seeker – appeared between 2013 and 2015, when the EU was actively pursuing observer status on the AC. Despite the EU’s multidimensional presence otherwise, it is more the symbolic status of being an AC observer that is publicly perceived as enhancing EUropean credibility and legitimacy as an Arctic actor (Raspotnik, Reference Raspotnik2018, p. 123). Thus, the seeker narrative broadly refers to the EU’s interests in the Arctic, as well as then ongoing talks with Iceland over EU membership. It further connects the EU’s AC aspirations and Icelandic EU membership as two interlinked events, which could help the Union to become a more legitimate regional actor. However, assessments of the potential of Iceland lobbying for observer status for the EU were rather sceptical.

This narrative also links with Russian reluctance to allow the EU access to the Arctic governance table. Basically, the reasons here are twofold. Firstly, the apprehension that EU observer status would mean over-representation of EUropean participation in the AC, as Denmark, Finland and Sweden are already Member States.

Secondly, the EU’s request for new and updated legislation in order to facilitate dispute settlement in the region goes against Russia’s argument that the existing international legal framework is sufficient. Further, the narrative interprets the EU’s attempt to gain observer status as a political challenge to Russia. In a nutshell, the seeker describes the EU as having high ambitions to become an officially recognised observer in the AC, whereas its interests are not in line with those of Russia, due to differing views on energy policy and economic sanctions, which in the end also affect Arctic partnerships.

The third narrative, the EU as prohibitor, was triggered by the EP’s Resolution of March 2017, on an Integrated European Policy for the Arctic (see Fig. 1). Essentially, the prohibitor narrative sees the resolution as a call for banning oil drilling in Arctic waters. It depicts the EU as the initiator of restrictive regulations that could threaten Arctic (economic) development. The proposed ban is described as aimed at limiting Russian economic activity in the Arctic: an attempt on the part of the EU to gain greater power and become more influential in the Arctic.

The EP’s call was not the first legislative attempt of the EU to demonstrate Arctic actorness that was negatively perceived within the Arctic. In 2009, the EU adopted Regulation No 1007/2009 on trade in seal products. Even though some Arctic states, particularly Canada, were not enthusiastic about this regulation, our research has not identified any relevant articles on this topic in the Russian media. The reason might be the development of a similar policy by the Russian government, resulting in a regulation, also issued in 2009, that banned the hunting of all harp seals of less than one year of age (International Fund for Animal Welfare, 2009). Two years later, the Customs Union of Belarus, Kazakhstan, and the Russian Federation banned the import and export of harp seal skins (Fink, Reference Fink2011).

Finally, the narrative of the EU as partner highlights the partnership relations between Russia and the EU in the Arctic. It was found only in articles published in 2018 – presumably spurred by the visit of the EU Ambassador at Large for the Arctic, Marie-Anne Coninsx, to Russia on 14–19 February 2018 (European External Action Service, 2018), as well as the approval of new funding for cross-border programmes.

The visit of the EU’s Arctic Ambassador received fairly positive coverage in Russian media. It was hailed as demonstrating the EU’s collaborative interest in addressing environmental challenges in the region as well as in developing the Northern Sea Route.

Cross-border programmes such as Kolarctic CBC, South-East Finland–Russia CBC and Karelia CBC, jointly financed by the EU and Russia and operating in regions of Finland, Northwest Russia and Sweden, were also noted. These programmes are represented as a common effort to improve living conditions in the North.

This narrative describes the EU as a trustworthy Arctic partner – while noting the issue of sanctions as complicating collaboration on both sides. However, with its focus on the EU’s Arctic interests and common ongoing projects, the narrative draws a very positive picture of the (European) Arctic as a territory of partnership and collaboration, despite the economic sanctions.