The European Commission is not asking whether it is worth it for Finland to build a fixed transport link to Central Europe. It is asking why Finland has not already started.

Brussels is increasingly looking at the map with new eyes. For decades, the Union's transport policy focused on connecting core regions, but now the focus is shifting to peripheral areas. The Rail Baltica from Tallinn to the Polish border, 85% funded by the Union, is a concrete example of this. The war in Ukraine, the strategic importance of the Baltic Sea and the Union's security of supply issues have also cast a new light on Finland's geopolitical position.
In February 2025, RT, the Confederation of Finnish Industries EK and the Service Sector Employers' Association Palta published the report "Finland's New Transport Connections to the World". Its message is clear: Finland must prepare for a giant project that will enable fixed connections to Sweden or Estonia and further to the heart of Europe. The report is not an idealistic vision but a realistic security strategy that relies on the needs of logistics, exports and defence. It states that Finland can no longer be an island in terms of transport – not if we want to be part of the West even in times of crisis.
Against this background, it seems contradictory how difficult it is in Finland to even start a serious discussion about fixed transport links to Estonia or Sweden and further to Central Europe. Tunnel options, bridges and new railway connections are not so much ruled out on technical or economic grounds, but the idea is rejected with the old familiar phrase: "There's never been a need for something like this before."This way of thinking will not stand the light of day. Not historically, nor in today's Europe."
The future is not visible in the rearview mirror
The construction of the Saimaa Canal in the 1800th century provides an interesting point of comparison. The canal was built between 1845 and 1856, and it cost a significant part of the annual budget of the entire Grand Duchy. Opposition was fierce: the project was considered unrealistic, expensive and unnecessary; precisely because nothing similar had been done before. Nevertheless, the canal was built. It connected the inland waters of Eastern Finland to international maritime traffic and contributed decisively to the industrialization of the region. The investment paid for itself in canal fees within a couple of decades. It was the boldest logistics project of its time and a demonstration that the future cannot be built by looking in the rearview mirror.
I lived in Copenhagen from 1995 to 1999 and saw firsthand how such principled courage is part of everyday political life in Denmark and Sweden. The Great Belt Bridge and Tunnel were completed in 1998, and the Øresund Bridge connected the Copenhagen and Malmö economic areas in 2000. Both cost billions of euros and were financed by state-guaranteed loans, the repayment of which is based on user fees. No direct tax funding was used for their construction. At current traffic volumes, the construction loans will have been repaid through road and rail tolls by the early 2030s.
The Fehmarn Strait rail and road tunnel, which connects Denmark and Germany, is currently under construction. The tunnel is expected to be completed in 2029. It is Europe's largest infrastructure project, with an estimated cost of around 7,1 billion euros. The EU is funding it with almost two billion. It is hard to imagine that these projects would have been launched without long-term cooperation that spans electoral terms.
Why is it so difficult to do the same in Finland? Why don't we have mechanisms that can politically lock in national megaprojects across government terms? How can we even talk about security of supply if we are not practically prepared to invest in connections that bind Finland to the West?
Brussels no longer seeks answers to these questions; they are self-evident. In recent years, the focus of EU transport policy has shifted towards critical connections and strategic autonomy. This need is being met, among other things, by the renewal of the TEN-T network, the EU's new Green Deal Industrial Plan, and financial instruments such as the CEF (Connecting Europe Facility), InvestEU, the Cohesion Fund and the new European Defence Industrial Fund (EDIP). Through these, the Union can contribute up to 30-50% of the costs of projects, as long as the member state does its homework and takes the initiative.

The EU does not fund projects to which the applicant country has not committed.
From the European Commission's perspective, Finland's geopolitical position is now special. We have the EU's longest external border with Russia. We are part of NATO, but still logistically at the bottom. The EU does not fund bridge projects that have not been planned. It does not support tunnel projects that have not been included in the national transport system plan. It does not consider as urgent what the applicant country itself sees as secondary. This is true everywhere, but especially in Finland, where governments have been reluctant to commit to major transport projects without immediate constituency-specific benefits.
In the spring of 2025, Finland will be actively discussing the rail network repair debt, train punctuality and investments in the capital region. But that is not enough. We need a strategic decision that Finland is not a peripheral area; neither in logistics nor in thinking. This decision does not mean immediate construction. It means that Finland will start realistic exploratory work on a fixed link to Estonia or Sweden. It means that the project will be included in the next transport system plan. It means that Finland will start systematically preparing to apply for EU funding. Not someday, but now.
And it's not just about traffic. It's about how Finland appears to the rest of Europe. Does it dare to think about its own future or is it content to leave connections to the West to others?
The builders of the Saimaa Canal knew at the time that courage costs money. But they also knew that courage pays off.
About the author
Mika Horelli is a freelance journalist who has lived in Brussels for eight years and closely follows the political processes of the European Union and their impact on Finland. He also writes for RT on EU topics that are central to the construction industry. Horelli has previously worked as a freelance journalist in Denmark and the United States.
Write a comment