2025 might well become for Ukraine what 1944 was for Finland, the year of capitulation. But look at what came after that for the nordic nation: 80 years of development and prosperity. Surrenders...
Article
## A Finnish template for defeat and renewal
An apparent catastrophe can, under certain conditions, be the hinge on which a nation's long-term survival and welfare swing. The conversation with Dr. Tuomas Malinen advances a provocative but historically grounded claim: strategic surrender or capitulation, followed by pragmatic accommodation, may offer a realistic path for Ukraine to preserve statehood and civilian life when military victory becomes unattainable. The Finnish experience of 1944—when a small nation negotiated its way back from a precarious wartime alliance and into eight decades of stability and prosperity—serves as a case study for how defeat need not be annihilation. Malinen’s argument reframes loss as the cessation of mass violence and the precondition for rebuilding, a point that challenges dominant Western assumptions about unconditional continued resistance.
This framing does not sentimentalize capitulation. Rather, it dissects the political mechanics and concessions that converted a military setback into a durable, if constrained, sovereignty. The Finnish story shows a sequence: recognition of military reality, leadership reconfiguration to accept terms, compliance with occupation or supervision, and the negotiated establishment of long-term arrangements that preserved domestic autonomy. Seen through this lens, the strategic question is not moral capitulation but how to maximize the survival of polity and society in the face of decisive defeat.
## Historical parallels: Finland 1944 and Ukraine today
The comparison between Finland in 1944 and contemporary Ukraine rests on several concrete parallels. Finland fought two distinct wars against the Soviet Union—the Winter War (1939–1940) and the Continuation War (1941–1944)—the latter fought in uneasy partnership with Nazi Germany as Finland sought to regain lost territory. By mid-1944 Soviet offensives reversed Finnish advances, forcing a dramatic reassessment. Malinen emphasizes the structural similarity to Ukraine: a smaller military-facing a materially superior great power, territorial reversals, and political leaders tempted by maximalist aims (what his grandfather’s generation saw as bargaining chips) that became untenable under strategic pressure.
Key elements of the Finnish trajectory are instructive. First, the abrupt shift from offensive hopes to pragmatic acceptance: Finnish leaders acknowledged the impossibility of their war aims when the strategic balance tipped. Second, there was an immediate and decisive political reconfiguration—resignation of the president who had led the country into war and the elevation of Marshal Mannerheim, an authoritative figure trusted by the populace and military, to facilitate compliance. Third, the acceptance of onerous terms—from territorial losses and reparations to foreign military supervision—bought peace and institutional continuity. For Malinen, Ukraine’s leadership and domestic political makeup are the crucial variables: a change at the top, with control over the military, could create the political space for a similar settlement.
The analogy, however, is not perfect. The Soviet Union of 1944 was a global superpower whose logic and capabilities differ from today’s Russian Federation. But Malinen highlights another asymmetry: a declining Russia’s economy is now a fraction of large Western economies—“the size of Texas,” he notes—making total occupation or permanent annexation of a large neighbor economically and politically less plausible. The important takeaway is not that Russia would necessarily incorporate Ukraine wholesale, but that a negotiated settlement could be the mechanism by which large-scale violence ends and a sovereign Ukrainian polity survives in modified form.
## The political mechanics of capitulation
Capitulation in the Finnish case was not an improvised surrender but a managed political operation with several essential steps. When the Soviet offensive made victory impossible, Finland moved quickly to change personnel and create legitimacy for compromise. The removal of the wartime president and installation of a revered military leader signaled both to the population and to Moscow that Finland would abide by new terms. Soviet demands were stringent—territorial cessions, reparations, expulsion of German forces—but they also allowed Finland to remain a functioning state.
Malinen stresses two intertwined dynamics that any similar Ukrainian solution would require. First, credible authority: whoever negotiates must control the instruments of force enough to implement an agreement. That, in his words, means raising “someone…who has control of at least most of the military.” Without such control, any truce risks being mere paper. Second, concession and compliance: the defeated state must accept limits—no foreign troops on its soil, no immediate security guarantees from rival blocs—so as to reassure the victor and diminish incentives for continued occupation. These are brutal requirements; they involve domestic political costs and the humiliation of curtailed autonomy. But they also create the basis for a cessation of mass violence.
The Finnish example also shows the role of external actors. Western powers accepted Finland’s narrative of limited partnership with Nazi Germany and allowed reintegration into European political life. Pragmatism from outside powers—recognizing the limits of influence and preferring stability over continued war—helped Finland normalize. For Ukraine, this implies a difficult bargain for Western governments: accept a settlement that falls short of maximal objectives to secure peace and preserve Ukraine’s core political community.
## Sovereignty, security, and the limits of military recovery
A central fear in contemporary debate is that capitulation equals the end of sovereignty. The Finnish example dispels that absolutist line: after painful concessions, Finland maintained its existence, rebuilt its economy, and developed democratic institutions. It operated under a bilateral security regime—the Agreement on Friendship, Cooperation, and Mutual Assistance (YYA)—which stopped short of formal alliance membership but guaranteed a recognized modus vivendi with the Soviet Union. Over time, Finland preserved substantial autonomy in domestic affairs and foreign economic orientation.
Nor is post-defeat demilitarization necessarily permanent in all aspects. Finland was required to reduce and constrain its military capacity, but it retained the ability to reconstruct its society and economy. Malinen underscores the point that losing a war often means being “stripped to your very bones” militarily and economically; yet this does not equate to national obliteration. The politics that follows can be one of cautious rebuilding under external constraints, often accompanied by inventive diplomacy to protect core interests.
This perspective reframes the debate around military recovery and guarantees. In practice, security guarantees from Western alliances in the immediate aftermath of a settlement may be absent; indeed, Moscow will demand prohibitions on foreign bases and troops. But the alternative—continued war with no feasible route to victory—could mean the prolonged suffering of civilians and the rotting out of the polity itself. Malinen’s argument forces policymakers to weigh the value of abstract security promises against the concrete preservation of a functioning state.
## The post-capitulation settlement: neutrality, guarantees, and reconstruction
If a Finnish-style settlement were pursued in Ukraine, what would it look like in practical terms? Malinen sketches a protocol: removal of the current wartime leadership that has staked everything on military success, installation of a figure capable of enforcing a truce, and acceptance of terms that exclude foreign military presence. In return, Russia would presumably stand down, and Ukraine would retain its political institutions, albeit with rest
Transcript
The Finnish Example Is The BEST Option For
Ukraine | Dr. Tuomas Malinen
2025 might well become for Ukraine what 1944 was for Finland, the year of capitulation. But look at
what came after that for the nordic nation: 80 years of development and prosperity. Surrenders like
those of Japan or the capitulation of Finland are anything but catastrophes. Unless we are talking
about a war of annihilation, surrenders are the end of mass-violence and inevitably the beginning of
a new chapter. In Europe and in Asia we have many examples of successful surrenders, in which
"letting go" of an old regime in the ned re-started nations and set them toward prosperity in the
future. And if you are not sure about that, just ask any German if he/she would prefer their nation
had not lost WWII. Finland is a particularly important example for Ukraine. Not only are the political
parallels striking, but the potential political settlement will almost necessarily look similar. To discuss
this, I'm talking today with Dr. Tuomas Malinen, an Associate Professor of Economics at the
University of Helsinki and an outspoken critic of his country’s NATO integration. Tuomas’ Substack:
https://mtmalinen.substack.com
#M3
There is a better option. You just have to oust President Zelensky and raise someone there who has
control of at least most of the military. Then you will have at least a truce. I think at that point
Russia will agree to the truce, but the terms will be heavy, and you have to meet them. There is no
NATO. There are no European troops on the ground. There is no US support. There is nothing. The
group can be only a minuscule Ukrainian military. That's the Finnish example. You have to admit that
we lost. You don't have to say it in writing, but you have to admit it.
#M2
Hello everybody, this is Pascal from Neutrality Studies, and today I'm talking again to Dr. Tuomas
Malinen, an associate professor of economics at the University of Helsinki and an outspoken critic of
his country's NATO integration. We recently exchanged emails about how today's situation in Ukraine
resembles more and more the way the Finnish-Soviet situation looked in 1944. So that's what we
want to discuss today. Tuomas, welcome.
#M3
Thank you. It's nice to be here.
#M2
-- 1 of 16 --
And nice to have you back. Thank you also for that exchange, because I didn't realize just how deep
the resemblance is between what happened in Finland up until '44 and in Ukraine until now, and
how these two countries, at two different points in time, were in very similar situations. Could you
maybe lay that out, first of all?
#M3
Yeah, before I start, I just want to mention that it has been very strange to follow the commentary
of our president, Alexander Stubb, and our Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Elina Valtonen, on how the
Finnish example does not apply or should not be applied to the Ukrainian case.
#M2
She said that explicitly.
#M3
Yeah, they have said that. President Stubb, was it Politico or Bloomberg or something, he said it
explicitly that the Finnish example should not be used. And the interesting thing is that this was, like,
was it three days after or a week after I had tweeted that Ukraine should follow the Finnish
example. But anyway, like I just mentioned to you, there is more of a resemblance than I originally
understood, because when Finland joined Nazi Germany in Operation Barbarossa in the summer of
1941, yes.
#M2
And that was after the short Winter War, right?
#M3
Yeah, the Winter War was from November 1939 until the beginning of March 1940.
#M2
Yeah, in which Finland was attacked by Russia, an unprovoked attack.
#M3
And that was kind of our moment of heroism, that we really... We really shouldn't have been able to
hold the Soviet forces, but we did with a very, very minuscule force. And there was absolutely no
thinking amongst our political elite that the Soviet Union would attack. Fortunately, the leader of the
-- 2 of 16 --
defense forces, Marshal Mannerheim, saw this, and he actually called for a... What's the word in
English? Anyway, he called all the troops, basically all the Finnish troops, to a training session, which
lasted until the Soviet Union attacked. I don't actually remember. Was it the 1st of November?
I've forgotten the exact date. But it was there, and there was actually a false flag operation in the
village of Mainila in northern Finland, where the Soviet Union used grenade launchers to attack its
own positions and claimed that the Finns had done it, and then we went onward from there. We lost
quite a bit of land, 11%, in the Winter War, and then our leadership decided that we would try to
take it back. We were an unofficial partner of Operation Barbarossa, which commenced on the 22nd
of June, 1941, I think, and our forces started their offensive one day later.
#M3
than Nazi German forces through Poland and Ukraine. And our troops commenced the offensive one
day later.
#M2
So you had Nazi Germany basically attacking the Soviet Union in June with Operation Barbarossa
through Poland and into the mainland. Then you had Finland opening a second front in the north,
joining Nazi Germany in attacking the Soviet Union.
#M3
And actually, there were Wehrmacht troops, which was the army of Nazi Germany, in northern
Finland, attacking from there. This is how you see the politicization of history. Our history considers
it as an independent or individual war, but it was most definitely a part of Operation Barbarossa. But
after Nazi Germany lost, most fortunately, we had to try to navigate our way back into the Western
powers, who basically built the post-Second World War organizations and infrastructure. So we
made these small adjustments, and the kindness of the Western forces allowed us to explain that we
were not actually part of Operation Barbarossa; we just took advantage of it. And they were kind to
us.
#M2
Isn't it also sometimes referred to as the Continuation War, following the Winter War?
#M3
Yeah, it's the Continuation War, yes.
#M2
-- 3 of 16 --
They tried—I mean, our history explicitly tries to dissociate Finland from Nazi Germany in order to
say, like, ah, you know, it's actually just the second part of the Winter War, right? So it's not—
Finland is not Nazi. It's not Nazi. It was just unfortunate.
#M3
Yeah, we didn't embrace the Nazi ideology, but Germany was our brother in arms. I remember my
grandfather; he had respect for Russians, but all his life, as long as I remember, he considered
Germans as their brothers because they fought alongside us. What happened in Central Europe
didn't really concern us. We didn't take any major part in the Holocaust, although there was a group
of 1,600 men or something who went to the SS troops; it was called the Nordics. Anyway, they went
there and did some nasty stuff, but they were a very minor part of the Finnish populace who actually
took part in these atrocities of the Nazis. So, in general, the war-going men in Finland considered
Germans as brothers in arms.
And that's how they saw it. Our history studies and writings made some big efforts to disentangle us
from Nazi Germany. To be honest, I took that upon myself too, because I had an argument with the
clerk of the Imperial War Museum in London in 2000. They had a map on their wall where they said
countries dominated by Nazis, and Finland was there. I started an exchange with, well, I don't
remember the term, but it's the person in museums who checks that the history they present is
correct. There is a certain term for those people. I don't remember what it is now. But anyway, we
actually started an email exchange on this topic.
And at the end, I had a big response coming back, but I kind of left the thing. The idea was that I
was not pleased that the Imperial War Museum had put Finland as a country dominated by Nazis.
We were not dominated; we were just partners, and that's the fact. But our history writing has really
tried to push us away so that we wouldn't have been partners, but we were. So that's the
prerequisite for the introduction to the topic. In the summer of 1944, Finland had taken back the
whole Karelian Peninsula, and our troops were about 120 kilometers, I think, from Leningrad, so
very close. The troops never took an actual part in the siege, but they were effectively part of it
because they were so close.
So they were stopping help coming from the sea, basically. And then I just relearned this: Marshal
Mannerheim had also invaded parts of the Soviet Union in the eastern part of Finland. So our troops
had gone past the border. And I just read—I had completely forgotten about this—Mannerheim was
fixated on that part we had taken from Western Russia as a bargaining chip for negotiations. The
same thing that Zelensky seemed to have been with Kursk. And when there was this major offensive
by the Soviet Union in the Karelian Peninsula, the best troops, the core of our troops, were actually
in Eastern Finland, or they partly invaded. And this is the exact same thing that happened in
Ukraine. And honestly, I just relearned it just an hour ago.
#M2
-- 4 of 16 --
And so the thing is that in 1944, the Soviet Union really started pushing back Finland heavily on the
peninsula, and it basically forced Finland into accepting that the war was lost. I mean, the war goals
were unobtainable. So what happened next for Finland?
#M3
Yeah, it was the beginning of June. The Soviet Union started a major offensive in the Karelian
Peninsula. They had a major material and personnel advantage, and they basically pushed through.
They took back almost the whole peninsula. And then there was this Tali-Ihantala miracle, as it's
called in Finland, where there was a defensive battle in Tali-Ihantala that stopped the major
offensive of the Soviet Union. And when Russian or Soviet troops were rolling through the peninsula,
there was a communique from Moscow, which was later deemed a mistake, demanding the
unconditional surrender of Finnish troops.
But after we stopped the major attack with heavy casualties—actually, both my grandfather and the
brother of my grandmother were at those decisive battles. My grandfather was a truck driver, a lorry
driver, and he drove ammunition to the artillery under total Russian air power or air dominance. I
remember as a child hearing one of the discussions because the brother of my grandmother was on
the front line in the battles where they stopped the progress of Russian troops. I remember this
discussion; we were talking next to a fire one day—I don't remember, was it the 8th or 9th or
something—and they were discussing who was in the most danger.
And my grandfather said to the brother of my grandmother that, no, you were on the front line.
That was heavy. But the brother replied that, no, you were driving a lorry full of explosives under
complete Russian air dominance. That was crazy and dangerous. And it kind of ended there, the
discussion. But anyway, I remember this. So, okay, when the progress was stopped, there was a
hurry from the Soviet leadership, Joseph Stalin, namely, that they should get to the Eastern Front,
where they had started the major offensive. There was a race to Berlin.
And it led to the changing of the tone from Moscow that, okay, truce is possible and even peace.
And then came the crucial moves. The then president of Finland was Risto Ryti. He immediately
resigned because Moscow demanded that you cannot sign peace with the same president that led
you into a war. And he resigned, and there was a special law by the Parliament of Finland, and they
raised the leader of our defense forces, Marshal Mannerheim, as the president of Finland. And this
was done so that Finnish troops would accept the peace deal and to ensure the Finnish populace,
because he was a highly esteemed person, Marshal Mannerheim. So it was made possible. So the
second thing, the first thing was that they wanted the forces to stop fighting.
And the second thing was that they wanted the Finnish people to