From Sweden, prosperous neutral in two world wars, determined abstainer from Europe's common effort to ward off a third, TIME Senior Editor Henry Anatole Grunwald cabled:
IN Stockholm, beneath a quiet house, there is a deep, vaulted cellar, where candles substitute warmly for the sunlight. This is a favorite refuge for Swedes, not from bombs, but from the menaces of life in general. Rich, excellent food is served, limited only by the lack of imagination in Swedish cooking; beer flows from great casks, unfortunately diluted by edict of a government which believes that drinking can be curbed by alcohol-content laws.
The restaurant is called The Golden Peace, and it represents perfectly the Swedish idea of the good life. Swedes like the open air and the magnificent shores of their lakes, but politically and spiritually most of them live in a well-protected, well-stocked cellar, with "Peace" hopefully written over the entrance.
National Argument. A young newspaperman ruefully told me that neutrality is the great Swedish superstition. Sweden has not been in a war since 1814, has spent most of her efforts since then on staying out. Her decision to stay out of the North Atlantic alliance is almost universally accepted. Practically everyone you meet, however, feels it necessary to explain Sweden's position. They all give the same argument, as if the whole country had been briefed.
First they tell you that their heart is really in the right place. As Prime Minister Tage Erlander puts it: "We are politically neutral, but not ideologically." Just the same, Sweden will not become part of any bloc; she will fight only if she is attacked. Thereby—so runs the argument—she is actually doing her neighbors a favor: if Sweden had joined NATO, the Russians would have had a perfect excuse to take Finland. (The Russians don't need an excuse to take Finland.)
As for Norway and Denmark—the argument goes—Sweden could not help them by joining NATO, since Sweden is at her peak in armament now. Thus Sweden has a buffer in Finland, and Norway and Denmark have a buffer in Sweden. (Many Swedish military men will privately tell you that the defense of Scandinavia would be stronger if coordinated.)
Barrels That Fly. The fact is that the Swedes are jolly glad to have stayed out of World War II, and intend to stay out of any World War III. At the same time, they are building up their defenses.
They have the best air force in Europe outside Britain. They make their own jets, the "flying barrels," certainly no match for Russia's but rated highly. They have a respectable navy, a military force of 50,000 men. They figure that in war they could mobilize 500,000 men in a matter of days.
Commander in chief of Sweden's defense forces since last spring is General Nils Svedlund, nicknamed "The Great Thunderer." At 52 he was moved to the top over several older generals, e.g., Carl Ehrensvard, an excellent officer who fought against Russia in Finland's Winter War. Ehrensvard would have got the top job, but the cautious government considered him too outspokenly anti-Russian.
Class Non-Struggle. Sweden's government rules with a kind of benevolent despo-socialism. Nobody seriously objects to it, and with reason, for it works: materially, Sweden's workers are better off than any others in Europe.