Abstract
The military covenant is a set of morally binding expectations marking the exchange between military, society, and the state. Its base is the military’s duality: like other large public institutions delivering services and its uniqueness in holding the monopoly over the use of legitimate organized state violence. The covenant is a form of relational (not transactional) contract based on trust between, and a long-term orientation of, partners; it both orders and displays these relations thereby offering both prescriptions for action and discursive means to legitimate them. The covenant can be used as an analytical (not normative) concept for theoretical development in three areas: social change and society-military ties, processual aspects of agreements between individuals and groups and the armed forces, and links between society-military ties and the social contract and social cohesion. We use the case of Estonia to illustrate the theoretical potential of the military covenant.
Keywords
This article develops the idea of the military covenant as a theoretical (rather than normative) concept (Avdagic et al., 2011). 1 The military covenant refers to the (usually) implicit but morally binding expectations marking the relations and exchange between military, society, and the state (Forster, 2006). At its simplest, the military covenant entails the willingness of military personnel to make personal sacrifices (including death) and forgo some rights enjoyed by civilians in return for recognition of their important social role, fair treatment for them and their families, and commensurate terms and conditions of service. More specifically, soldiers promise willingness to sacrifice bodies and lives, show obedience to the military hierarchy, subscribe to an a-political orientation, express loyalty to the country, internalize society’s civilian values and democratic ground rules, and be transparent and accountable and professionalize. In return, society through the state pledges to provide a monopoly over coercive state power, acknowledgment of the military’s importance, grant institutional autonomy for the military, provide training and proper equipment, support for troops and families, and commemorate fallen soldiers. Hence, military covenants cover much more than agreements about concrete workplace-related issues because they touch upon things like the legitimacy of using armed force and the ways in which sacrifices of soldiers are handled. As interpretive frames, covenants are prisms through which military service, preparation for armed conflict, and deployment of force are understood and acted upon by soldiers and civilians.
While a military covenant first appeared in the United Kingdom as a formal document, a small number of scholars have begun to theorize the concepts at base of this agreement. Based on their efforts, we develop the theoretical fruitfulness of this concept. To do so, we have turned to the sociology of contracts not because the covenant is a legal document—it usually an implicit set of understandings—but because this body of knowledge offers insights about mutually binding agreements between partners. Specifically, we utilize the concept of relational contract (Macneil, 1983) to understand the characteristics of, and processes of change regarding, the military covenant. Empirically, expressions of military covenants—reflecting their dynamic nature and the negotiations underlying them—can be found in a plethora of sources such as statements and declarations of civilian politicians and senior commanders, parliamentary committees and special study groups, negotiation forums and feedback apparatuses (say public opinion surveys or research), organizations of troops or their families, and appeals to the media and internal military “creeds” or missives sent to soldiers. To exemplify our argument, we use Estonia as an exploratory case study (Thomas, 2011).
The Theoretical Groundwork of Our Study
The academic study of military covenants is relatively recent, and its utility as an analytical concept has been emerging during the past decade and a half. Interest in the subject took off with discussions of Britain’s written (but not legally binding) agreement and the reasons for its evolution (Forster, 2006; Ingham, 2014; Rubin, 2012). While earlier work focused on Britain’s civil-military relations and the prospect of them breaking down (Forster, 2012; McCartney, 2010), further studies have charted out its application regarding veterans’ care (Dover & Gearson, 2017; Mumford, 2012).
Theoretically, studies have developed in two broad directions. The first includes macro-level research emanating from Forster’s (2006) contention that the U.K. covenant emerged because British forces were engaged in new and controversial wars of choice putting new pressures on the armed forces. Müller et al. (2011) generalized this idea to explore the expectations that deployment abroad fit with the stipulations of the military covenant about state aims. These studies underscored how covenants are a means to handle public expectations about the pursuit of armed state violence. More generally, they suggest the need to widen analysis to include other publics’ expectations of military action (such as recruitment policy or treatment of troops). Three studies further link the covenant to the military’s institutional autonomy. Forster (2012) contends that the covenant is related to the armed forces’ attempt to meet challenges to their professional independence and right to be different, while Ingham (2014) proposes that the British covenant allowed senior commanders to define their relations with civilian politicians. Ben-Ari (2019), in an essay on Taiwan, shows how institutional autonomy is linked via the covenant to negotiations between the military and civilian politicians. These publications propose that covenants are also means to negotiate the armed forces’ autonomy by striking agreements about the leeway or limits of external interventions in their internal matters. Hence, implicit in these analyses of covenants again are ideas about how the covenant is a means to handle, order, and organize the relations between the military and its civilian overlords and groups among the public because it formulates expectations about the behavior expected of the parties and the ground rules for interactions between them.
Levy (2013) has offered the most sophisticated propositions in a different direction. His work argues that Republican ideals, epitomized in conscription systems, are linked to legitimation, symbolic rewards, and citizenship and conjecture differences between conscripts and all-volunteer forces. Historicizing his argument, he argues that Republican ideals stand in tension with increasing emphases on material rewards and rights that have come to mark militaries in all of the industrialized democracies. The outcome, as he warns, may be a devaluation of Republican ideals and thus a lowering of willingness to serve and to suffer casualties. In his study with Mizrahi (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008), he further focuses on the breach of the Republican contract that may lead to dissatisfaction triggering collective action among soldiers and their families. His studies add further points for theoretical development. As an addition to previous research, Levy leads us to theorize the links between covenants and social developments that have intensified since the end of the Cold War. In addition, he proposes looking at collective action for rectifying what partners see as breaches of the covenant. This point implies looking at the covenant as an agreement that is constantly monitored and negotiated about by publics, politicians, and the military.
The second set of studies focuses on the micro and meso levels. One kind deals with breaches of the “psychological” or individual contract in troops’ dealings with the military (Chambel & Oliveira-Cruz, 2010; Kraak et al., 2020). Arguing that such studies lack social contextualization, other scholars asked how the macro-level covenant resonates with meso and micro agreements (Ben-Ari, 2013). Thus Lomsky-Feder and Ben-Ari (2012) showed how unit-level agreements about social diversity are shaped by the military covenant. Similarly, Lomsky-Feder and Sasson-Levy (2015) illuminate how negotiations between the military and its recruits produce acting subjects of citizenship. Gazit et al. (2021) have further suggested the utility of such multiple contracts for the analysis of reservists. Such studies extend the idea of covenants as negotiated bargains to propose that macro-level expectations are the bases for specific dialogs about terms of service, ideas of citizenship and social inclusion. These studies further suggest, but do not explicitly argue, that as macro conditions transform, the need for negotiation and adaptation emerges much more intensely.
To further theorize the military covenant, we turn to four sources. The first is the sociology of contracts, specifically the concept of relational contracts. Relational contracts, as opposed to transactional ones, are based on a relationship of trust between the parties and are viewed in terms of lasting bonds rather than as discrete transactions (Macneil, 1980; Macneil, 1983; McLaughlin et al., 2014). In such contracts, relations among the parties are based on projecting exchange into the future. In such contracts, explicit terms are just outlines, as there are implicit terms and understandings which determine the behavior of the parties. Accordingly, like relational contracts, military covenants include solidarity (common responsibilities and interests), mutuality (individual success as based on both partners success), flexibility (willingness of partners to adjust practices in response to changing circumstances), and conflict resolution mechanisms.
Second, to understand how covenants—as relational contracts—actually work in the world, we turned to Suchman’s (2003: 100) writings on contracts having roles as ordering mechanisms with prescriptions for action and as displays about the legitimacy of the contracts themselves. Contracts organize the world because they set out the distribution of rights and responsibilities and procedures for conjoint action including incentives and sanctions. As cultural displays, contracts evoke normative principles and express identity, solidarity, and faith. Thus, for instance, best effort clauses are signals of goodwill and negotiated revisions become shows of mutuality.
The third source of our theoretical groundwork is the link between military covenants and social cohesion and the social contract—notions addressing “how and what binds a society together.” As covenants are embedded in dynamics centered on collective identities, sentiments of shared fate, and cross-group ties, they are deeply connected to social cohesion. And, since negotiations about covenants are arrangements for handling conflicts between different groups’ expectations and power, they are related to the social contract. We refer to social cohesion as the formal and informal ties holding members of a society (actors, groups, and institutions) together horizontally (across groups) and vertically (between citizens/groups and the state) and that involve trust, identity, and participation (United Nations Development Program, 2018). A national social contract, in turn, is a dynamic agreement between state and society on how to live together, how power is exercised, and how resources are distributed and allows for mediation of conflicting interests through varied mechanisms (United Nations Development Program, 2018). Social contracts are based on the state delivering protection, basic services, and participation, and in return, governments expect members of society to comply with its rules, confirm or at least not object to the legitimacy of its rule, and remain loyal when conflict ensues (Loewe et al., 2020, pp. 6–8). The weakening of social cohesion and the social contract are core social problems for today’s governments, given extreme political currents, delegitimized political decisions, and inequality (Beauvais & Jenson, 2002; Larsen, 2013). Social cohesion is both a precondition for, and an outcome of, the social contract and is high when a majority in society voluntarily “play by the rules of the game” and individuals adhere to social contracts when they do not consider each other as cultural “strangers” and hence believe that the same norms and expectations govern everyone (Loewe et al., 2020: 3).
The fourth theoretical underpinning centers on the uniqueness to military covenants. While the military is like other large public institutions charged with delivering goods and services (say the education or health systems), its distinctiveness lies in holding the monopoly over the management and use of legitimate organized state violence (Boëne, 2000).
Four implications derive from this analytical groundwork. First, mapping the relational issues involved between the actors party to the covenant: politicians, senior commanders, soldiers and their families, the general public, and monitoring groups (such as the media or the courts). Second, asking how the covenant orders these relations by providing ground rules for displaying and actualizing shared interests and the mutuality of responsibilities and procedures for handling conflicts and breaches of the covenant. Third, showing how the covenant is related to wider processes of social cohesion and the social contract. Fourth, relating the covenant to the uniqueness of the armed forces.
Why Estonia as an Exploratory Case Study?
We use the case of Estonia as an illustrative and exploratory case (Thomas, 2011). Exploratory case studies describe a particular phenomenon or problem and provide a framework for explaining it and generating questions or hypotheses to trace out causal insights or social mechanisms. While they have limits in terms of generalizability, the idea in such studies is theoretical development for relatively new topics at a preliminary stage of research such as the military covenant (Marlow, 2005). To approach our case, we combine deductive and inductive inquiry (Casula et al., 2021). Deductive since our starting point is previous studies and the, often implicit, theoretical suggestions they offer; and inductive since through our case, we found new variables and questions. Since so little has been written about the subject and what has been written is incomplete, our aim is thus to move purposeful inquiry forward.
Estonia presents a fruitful case to explore issues centered on military covenants in small and medium-sized democracies. First, it faces a credible threat in Russia’s potential for hybrid forms of aggression. The seriousness of the country’s covenant is intensified by Estonians’ national motivation for self-assertion after the experience of Soviet occupation (Masso et al., 2020, p. 15). These sentiments are compounded by the small size of the country as a source of worries about economic viability and cultural vulnerability. In fact, the National Defense Development Plan 2017–2026 explicitly declares the aim of increasing social cohesion (Riigikantselei, 2017). According to the Plan, in times of crisis, a cohesive society sticks together, its inhabitants trust and support state institutions, and people are ready to defend the country. Given this situation, the military covenant and the mutual expectations it embodies are taken seriously by all stakeholders.
Second, Estonia has undergone deep social transitions since the end of the Cold War that brought the processes of democratization, rapid economic development, and the spread of post-material values. Democratization was legitimated as “restoring” the pre-Soviet republic ideals (Vihalemm & Kalmus, 2009, p. 97) and adopting lessons from western countries (Luik, 2002). Politically, the election of its first democratic government in the early 1990s put in place the formal frame for civilian control of the armed forces. Accordingly, because Estonia is still a relatively young democracy, it is a good case through which to explore its evolving military covenant.
Third, the Estonian Defense Force (EDF), like other forces, has introduced civilian models of business efficiency into its workings with an increase in material rewards (salaries or pensions) for regulars. This development is the result of the spread of neo-Liberal ideas and prioritizing financial effectiveness and efficiency. Indeed, while Estonia is characterized by high consensus regarding the armed forces, there is an in-built tension between Republican ideals of sacrifice and late-modern expectations about life centering on material benefits, self-fulfillment, and gender equality in military service. This tension is potentially strongest among conscripts and younger reservists because they are the major subscribers to late-modern, Nordic, values. Handling this inherent contradiction has thus become a core concern in negotiations about the covenant.
Fourth, the country has a sizable Russian-speaking minority (about a quarter of the population). By law, all Estonian male citizens must serve the country, but due to historic experiences of being incorporated to the Soviet Union, the Russian-speakers are not only a social minority but are subject to suspicion for potential collaboration with Russia. These circumstances imply that how the military manages their military service is part of negotiating their belonging and identity and their inclusion as citizens. In fact, this issue has also become a central component of the covenant because it centers on social tensions related to the social contract and social cohesion.
Data and Method
To gain a comprehensive overview and illustrate the theoretical concept of the military covenant through the Estonian case, we combined several sources from the period since Estonia regained its independence in 1991; the period during which the country’s military covenant emerged and was gradually institutionalized. Our study relies primarily on secondary data resources comprising academic publications (articles that dealt with the social side of the EDF and research based on public opinion polls, public records (military reports, government documents, statistics reports), and media articles. Military reports had to do with conditions of service for conscripts, reservists, and regulars, internal questionnaires about the attitudes of service members, summaries of discussions about public expectations of the country’s military, and various missives sent to serving troops. Government documents centered on parliamentary discussions and reports created by the Ministry of Defense. Finally, media articles covered many of these issues but also encompassed the opinions and formal declarations of senior politicians and commanders as well as public appeals by members of troops’ families. These secondary data resources were analyzed in 2020, using a keyword search analysis focusing on the EDF and defense policy.
We went over these texts twice: first deductively to look for the issues suggested in previous studies; and second, inductively to seek information about phenomena not included in past research. As a purely supplementary source of data, we held five interviews with active members of the EDF at the beginning of 2021 (lasting between an hour and an hour and a half). We used these interviews to validate, discuss, and gain insight from the active members’ perspectives on the issues we had found of relevance working in using secondary data sources. These sessions were especially fruitful, given that two authors are Estonian and have had long experience with the military and could ask detailed questions. The third author, from Israel, often found himself as an external sounding board that questioned many of the native taken-for-granted issues and prodded the participants to further questions.
Results and Discussion
Estonia’s Contemporary Covenant
Unlike the United Kingdom, Estonia’s covenant has not been formalized but is nevertheless seen by many citizens as a binding agreement. To begin, in terms of the country’s security stance, Russia’s engagement in conflicts with Georgia and the Ukraine was a lesson for Estonia as to all of the Baltic and Nordic countries. Russia’s threats include weapons along the country’s borders, patrols of the Baltic Sea, abilities for hybrid operations to destabilize the region, impede relations with allies, or attack infrastructure. 2 The country’s defense plans are based on three elements: domestic defense for survival until NATO partners intervene (it has been a member since 2004); 3 embeddedness in multinational alliances like NATO; 4 and a comprehensive approach to security integrating military defense, civilian sector support, international efforts, internal security, vital services, and psychological security (Veebel & Ploom, 2018). In this total defense paradigm, the defense forces and entire nation must be in a state of continued preparedness for crises (Government of the Republic of Estonia, 2017).
We now move on to four key themes at the center of the covenants of contemporary democracies. We exemplify each theme through the Estonian case and suggest the theoretical points it raises.
Abiding by Democratic Ground Rules
The first and most important issue in any democratic covenant is civilian control. Given the military’s wielding of armed force, it has an inbuilt potential to take over the government (Feaver, 1999). Accordingly, questions of subservience to elected civilians and democratic ground rules are crucial especially during the “first generation” of democratization (Croissant & Kuehn, 2009). The military covenant is critical for relations between the military and the state because it stipulates mutual expectations, clear hierarchies, and mechanisms for dialogue. We illustrate the way the military covenant evolved since the country’s independence.
When gaining independence in 1991, Estonia established the EDF (previously, Estonians served in the Soviet military), and a central question was whether it would accept democratic ground rules. Initially, some tensions between commanders educated in western militaries and officers with Soviet training emerged reflecting contrasting experience and mentality, and during the 1990s, some units resisted orders issued by military commanders. In 1997, a disaster in which 13 young trainees died during an inter-Baltic exercise became a major political and public relations disaster involving public feuds between the President, Prime Minister, defense minister, and Defense Chief over who held authority over the armed forces and thus bore responsibility for the disaster (Luik, 2002).
This incident led to debates about regulations guaranteeing the chain of command and democratic control. Legislation was finally passed in 2002 to specify the military’s subservience to political leaders and decreed the President as supreme commander of national defense and established a National Defense Council as an advisory body to the President. Legislation also stated that parliament acting on the President’s proposal can declare war, order mobilization, and decide on deployment of forces to fulfill international obligations (Veebel, 2017). Presidential powers were delimited to activities like issuing orders concerning military decorations and ranks, chairing the Security Council, or legitimizing the use of force when parliament could not convene. Today, the consensus is that the military has successfully transformed into an institution playing by the norms found in other democracies, and this point has become a core of the military covenant.
Democratic control began to be inculcated among high-ranking officers (many of whom spent time in western military institutions) and be taught in the country’s military academy (Karabeshkin, 2007). In addition, since 2004 Estonian officers working on NATO staffs brought back knowledge of decision-making and political oversight as practiced in mature democracies. Transparency and accountability were enhanced through a unified system of bookkeeping and planning system allowing overviews of military assets.
But merely ordering relations is not enough because civilian control must also be displayed. Numerous indicators of military leaders’ obedience to politicians are found in official statements of senior commanders, practically carrying out the orders of civilian decision-makers, or accepting the military’s role in advisory capacities during policy-making. Indeed, the EDF homepage states that the highest commander of the EDFs “reports to the Minister of Defense, whereas the Minister of Defense has no right of command over the Commander of the Defense Forces.” In addition, the military’s deferential attitude is expressed in such gestures as positioning of generals beside or behind elected officials in pubic ceremonies. A related aspect of the covenant is the military’s acceptance of a politically neutral stance. Accordingly, the EDFs did not change stances when the government’s ruling parties changed and senior commanders’ positions are not dependent on the elections or on political parties. The experience of neutrality has been bolstered by the fact that several political parties have held the post of Defense Minister.
Perhaps most essential to gaining the public’s trust and support is the perceived transparency and accountability of the armed forces. Estonia has instituted a host of institutional mechanisms such as oversight by government and parliamentary committees or the EDF submitting regular reports about its actions, 5 as well as monitoring activities by the media, families of soldiers, and civil society groups. As an example, take a report by the International Center for Defense Studies and the Estonian Institute of Human Rights (n.d.) stating that while there were no serious violations in the military, there are sporadic accounts about hazing and humiliation of conscripts although the situation has improved. We were also told by an officer that parents may also occasionally phone commanders about their sons thus creating an avenue for dialogue between families and military units. Media reports have raised such issues as injuries during training or the problems of pay for conscripts and reservists 6 and a YouTube video post about the mental health of conscripts eventuated in heated public discussions.
The EDF as we have seen, fully abides and “performs” its acceptance of the wider bargain between it and the state and its citizens. In other words, by fulfilling the terms of subservience to civilian overlords, maintaining political neutrality, and being transparent and accountable the EDF signals that it can be trusted as a partner to the democratic covenant. This point is important because the element binding military to society does not only consist of institutional checks but also of trust-building and partnership. Part of partnership, in turn, involves developing mechanisms for conflict resolution and representation of troops, such as the appointment of spokesmen for conscripts from platoon-level upward and the establishment of the Estonian Reserve Force Officers Union. Such mechanisms allow recognized representatives of troops to negotiate with military “management” and minimize potential estrangement between them.
Theoretically, this theme underscores how subservience to civilian politicians is part of a long-term process of building relations. Because signaling subservience is also directed toward the general public and toward monitoring bodies, relations cover all major social groups. Analytically, abiding by democratic ground rules—the core of the military covenant at the macro-scale—is directly related to conflict management mechanisms because the covenant stipulates the need for procedures for sounding out of various voices and opinions.
Neo-Liberalism: Efficiency and Effectiveness
Changing public expectations about the military’s effective and efficient use of the resources have also figured in covenants. The armed forces of the democracies saw an intensified introduction of models of business efficiency into their workings and an increase in material rewards for its regulars making service more competitive with civilian labor markets. These developments—that can also be seen in Estonia 7 —are the result of the strength of neo-Liberal thought and the prioritization of financial considerations. In Estonia, they mark the country’s initial transformation under powerful international agencies such as the IMF, World Bank, and European Union. The language of neo-Liberalism is now part of debates about the force including regular reports about the price and quality of weapons or discussions about the benefits awarded troops.
Turning to the level of motivations and exchange between troops and the military, the advent of neo-Liberalism has intensified previous developments. A central expectation among conscripts and reservists is conditioning commitment to service on their time being used effectively and efficiently. In Estonia, the EDF’s awareness of this expectation is found in an interview with the Defense Chief who noted “Everything we do in conscription needs to better prepare citizens for national defense. . . Anything that doesn’t do so, the question arises why we’re wasting time or resources on it.” 8 An indirect indicator related to reservists is found in the study carried out by Laanepere et al. (2020) on objects of cultural capital of reservists. They found that strong identification with units and willingness to serve are indicated through pictures and videos of exciting activities and that satisfaction with training had the strongest influence on service readiness.
Being functionally effective and economically efficient, and making efforts to be so, signals that the military answers new public expectations. Optimally utilizing the resources at its disposal (given a 2% cap on defense spending), the EDF thus fulfills its side of the bargain with society. Similarly, in holding regular large-scale exercises alone, with the Defense League (a voluntary militia commanded by the EDF) or with NATO allies, the county’s forces publicly display their effective professionalism. And, by answering conscripts and reservists’ demands that their time be used effectively and efficiently, the EDF meets individual-level expectations. In these ways, the EDF “performs” its commitment to effectiveness and efficiency. Theoretically, this theme is related to wider changes in relations between state institutions and the public but only indirectly touches upon the special character of the military as wielder of state mandated armed violence.
Added Motivations: Sacrifice and Contractual Militarism
The central issue covered by the military covenant in regard to armed force—the military’s uniqueness—is troops’ willingness to sacrifice life and limb. Indeed, this willingness is seen as the basis for the Republican ideal of exchange underlying citizenship and incentives (Mileham, 2010; Rynehart, 2016, p. 5). This ideal now stands in tension with newer developments because in many societies, soldiers expect military service to be worthwhile and meaningful. In countries such as Estonia, this view fits the neo-Liberal view governing the way individuals see society (Masso et al., 2020, p. 14), since an emphasis on individual choice, rights, and obligations has come to dominate the Estonian public sphere, especially among the country’s younger generations (Lauristin & Vihalemm, 2009; Vihalemm & Kalmus, 2009, p. 97): many individuals see service as an opportunity for obtaining civilian skills like driving licenses, operating large machines, or cyber skills. To answer these expectations, the EDF promotes this view of military service but also emphasizes acquiring self-confidence, discipline, leadership skills, or team-work.
This kind of exchange is shaped by what Levy et al. (2007) call “contractual militarism”: a new relationship between the armed forces and troops based on an exchange of both instrumental goods and post-material experiences. Service is increasingly seen by individuals as conditional, as dependent on the armed forces meeting their demands and desires. Post-material values are indicated by soldiers talking about self-actualization or self-fulfillment in service. These are also the reasons cited by Estonian women who join the military: as a desire to contribute to the country’s defense and a chance for self-development. 9 Other examples of contractual militarism include first, the Military Service Act (2021) that formalized the appointment of spokesmen for conscripts to represent their interests and provide commanders with feedback about the use of time, relations with lower-level commanders, training, medical care, or quality and quantity of food. Second, the Estonian Reserve Force Officers Union (set-up in 1997) helps the EDF unite the reserve officers in one body. 10 The spokespersons and the Union appear to be similar to that of representatives of “labor unions” as organized groups negotiating with the military’s “management” thus congruent with the more contractual elements of service.
Recruits’ and reservists’ expectations to gain skills that can be converted to civilian workplaces and desire for opportunities to be challenged or fulfill themselves are probably the most significant change to the country’s military covenant during the past two decades. The EDF’s adaptation to these expectations, in turn, indicates how it reacts to wider transformations in the social contract governing relations between individuals, society, and the state. But because these orientations stand in tension with the Republican ideals of sacrifice, the military’s answer to new demands for more transactional relations may contradict the relational ideals of the Republican ethos. This resonates with a wider issue facing contemporary democracies of how to manage this tension. In Estonia, some potential conflict is handled by offering the “uniqueness” of military life as personal challenges or publicly acknowledging the importance of military service. Other solutions may involve a decoupling between a Republican rhetoric and contractual militarism, but that road may lead to a breakdown of relations. In any case, this challenge highlights how the coercive nature of conscription and reserve duty has limits.
Social Inclusivity, Gender, and Diversity
In today’s democracies, a key element in the covenant is social inclusiveness of minorities in the military (Rynehart, 2016, p. 9). Inclusivity is related to the purported universalism of conscription, how the force’s composition reflects demography, and the military as integrator of minorities. In democracies—especially those with conscription—the covenant covers the expectation that the military be a site that is socially inclusive and often a prime integrator of different groups by design or by happenstance. In addition, in conscription and reserve systems where service is legally compelling, there is an expectation for recruitment to assure equal sharing in defending the country. The practical issues include the mechanisms for organizing inclusivity and the display of the armed forces as integrators and arenas for the meeting and cooperation of diverse individuals.
The case of Estonia is especially illustrative of this point. The EDF’s commitment to inclusivity—one of the strongest links between the covenant and social cohesion—is related to its legitimacy and how it manages diversity. Managing diversity refers to the rhetoric, arrangements, and practices dealing with groups socially defined as distinct, and the problem is handling social differences so that the military’s effectiveness is not impaired or that its image does not hamper potential recruitment and retention. In the EDF, inclusivity refers to two groups—women and Russian-speakers.
Women
Women are an explicit social category recognized by the EDF as by all today’s militaries. While conscription applies to men, in 2013, Estonia enacted a law establishing a structured route for women to voluntarily enter conscription. Functionally, this move suited the policy of gradually increasing the yearly intake of conscripts from 3,500 to 4,000 by 2026 but also resulted from external feminist expectations held by many youngsters. The need to integrate women into the force is found in the EDF’s public declarations. As an official explained, from 2017, the EDF has energetically been promoting opportunities for women by providing information and holding Conscript Shadow Days (women are invited to units for 24 or 12 hours to experience conscripts’ everyday lives), or media campaigns promoting women’s service. In addition, the Recruitment Agency regularly visits schools or conferences where women’s service is introduced. As a result, an increasing (albeit still miniscule) number of women are seeking to enter service. In effect, organizational practices continue to marginalize them alongside the marketing effort playing up their entry into new roles as a major shift in policy. Hence, continuity of exclusion is hidden beneath a veneer of change.
Russian-Speakers
Problems are more complex with the country’s largest minority—Russian-speaking citizens. Given the obligatory nature of conscription, the practical challenge is that a significant number of Russian-speakers are not fully fluent in Estonian, the language of the EDF. To meet their needs, the EDF began to provide supplementary language education and in 2019 made it compulsory. 11 The aim of this education is to help troops achieve the ability to carry-out military tasks and better understand military affairs. Carried out for functional reasons, language classes have wider consequences. As an EDF member explained, it “helps integrate [Russian speakers] into Estonian society and strengthen the position of Russian-speaking military personnel in the army.” We were told time and again that Russian-speakers often master Estonian “on-the-job” during conscription and that some conscripts went on to squad leaders’ courses and became regulars. Moreover, two interviewees explained that the EDF sees fluency in Russian as an advantage for its intelligence arms.
Behind the issue of language lie questions centered on the social positioning of this large minority that is culturally aligned with the country’s large neighbor, Russia. Muiznieks et al. (2013) note that in Estonia (as in Latvia) emphasizing the majority language as a prerequisite for access to formal membership enhances the threat-perceptions of minorities making recruitment of Russian-speakers potentially politically explosive. An extreme (and only) example is an ethnic Russian Estonian army officer recruited into spying for the Kremlin while visiting Russia. 12 This case exemplifies the challenge of ethnic Russian Estonian apartness: while invested in the Estonian state, many among the Estonian-speaking majority do not fully trust Russian-speakers and many of the Russian minority do not fully trust Estonian public institutions. One study (Evas, 2012) found that political opinion leaders and the Estonian mainstream media still rely on ethnic stereotyping and consider ethnic diversity as a threat rather than an opportunity. However, the data of another study (Motive International, 2019) did not suggest that ethnic Russians in Estonia pose a significant insider threat and suggested that while social contacts between ethnic Russians and ethnic Estonian institutions were weak; Kremlin-backed institutions did not fill the void. In addition, the Russian-speaking population is not uniform with some groups more integrated into the Estonian-speaking population but is also very critical of state institutions and more used to express themselves politically (Vihalemm et al., 2020). Moreover, the younger generation of Russian-speakers are more integrated into Estonian society than their elders.
Furthermore, shared aspects of socialization, particularly consumer culture and openness to the West, have contributed to the homogenization of the attitudes of youngsters from all ethnic groups (Vihalemm & Kalmus, 2009, p. 111). However, a recent internal report about Russian-speaking conscripts in the EDF found that at the beginning of service, Russian-speakers are oriented toward drivers’ positions, while Estonian speakers aim more for NCO courses (Kasearu, 2021). In addition, Estonian-speaking conscripts have statistically higher chances (2 to 3 times) to become an NCO compared to Russian-speakers. This situation reflects both differences in the expectations conscripts set to themselves and a more limited chance (given linguistic competencies) of realizing their preferences.
Both universal recruitment (for men) and integration of males from the Russian-speaking minority are crucial parts of the covenant resonating with the wider social contract and facilitating social cohesion. Universalism is essential for the sentiment of equal sharing of burdens of service. Accordingly, for many, conscription and reserve service foster a sense of a common fate and belonging and widens their social capital in an organization cross-cutting linguistic and social boundary. By universally conscripting Russian-speaking males and opening all units and roles to them, the EDF seeks to create the image of inclusion and not a reproduction of social marginality.
We now understand how the covenant expresses the assumption that the force’s impact on social cohesion embodying a symbol of integration and providing an arena for the meeting and cooperation of diverse groups. As military service is often an avenue for gaining citizenship, it further amplifies the role of integrator (Levy, 2013). Thus, in systems marked by conscription leading to reserve service, universal recruitment is seen as central to the military’s legitimacy, embodied in “national service”: the military as defender of the collective and state territory is the most important agent protecting citizens’ shared fate therefore contributing to social cohesion. It is no surprise then that that deviations from this universality often form the core of dissatisfaction.
Conclusion: Cross-Cutting Theoretical Implications
We have used Estonia as an exploratory case study to generate insights about military covenants. While covenants are a kind of relational contract based on the long-term orientation and investment of parties involved, in contrast to the education or health systems its particularity lies in its specialization in organized state violence. We now trace out the theoretical and comparative issues deriving from this study. As we outlined in the introduction, a descriptive model of military covenants must link particular elements to changing macro-level expectations and specifically to conditions of service, access of minorities to conscription, and the problems of full social inclusion. One import of these points is an appreciation of how military covenants, just like any relational contracts, are dynamic, living texts (Arnold, 2012).
Effectiveness and Resilience
The twin character of covenants as organizing texts and as displays, aid in gauging to the extent to which they are resilient over time or adaptable to social and cultural change. Covenants are effective action-oriented texts when they invoke familiar tropes, allowing players to rehearse and modify parts before performance and provide a basic story-line for improvisation (Suchman, 2003, p. 114). In addition, their potential effectiveness in conferring legitimacy is conditioned on how they communicate messages resonating with certain ideological themes and drawing on ideologically resonant displays even as these are changing. But the two work together: for instance, information exchange is not only important for action but simultaneously signals mutuality. In this respect, we showed how changing expectations in Estonia about gender equality necessitated the addition of new ideologically legitimate messages about the EDF’s efforts to integrate women. Theoretically, then the point is that covenants order relations between actors by providing ground rules for displaying and actualizing shared interests and the mutuality of responsibilities.
Social Cohesion
Because military covenants are embedded in the dynamics of identities, notions of shared fate, and cross-group ties they are connected to social cohesion. And, since negotiations about covenants are arrangements for handling conflicts between different groups’ expectations and power they link to the social contract. It is in this light that inclusion and integration should be seen. Like many democracies maintaining conscription, so in Estonia universal recruitment is related to the state fulfilling the ideal of recruitment as a basis for Republican citizenship. The republican ideal is that citizenship (and resources like access to rights or status) is awarded individuals willing to contribute to their country and that military service is the epitome of such willingness because soldiers may have to sacrifice their lives (Levy, 2011). While now it is slightly more acceptable not to be conscripted, the republican ethos is nevertheless still potent in contemporary Estonia. The slowly changing expectations about women as volunteers, links transformations in the broader social contract and an emphasis on gender equality to the Republican ideal. To hark back to a previous point, this change implies that conscription for women is now viewed as a potential route for gaining full citizenship to the political collective.
Conscription for men and opening of voluntary routes for women strengthen social cohesion by signaling that the EDF adapts to contemporary expectations and signals that it is taking concrete steps to implement integration. Moreover, they underscore how the EDF is, in effect, an arena allowing meeting points between cultural strangers thus cross-cutting social and gender boundaries (Loewe et al., 2020, p. 3). They are also important for society’s support of national defense as reflected in surveys showing citizens high trust in the EDF (80%) and that 64% consider conscription absolutely necessary and 27% rather necessary (Kivirähk, 2019). The Estonian case is therefore consonant with research showing that public support for the military is higher in countries with conscription as it involves large segments of society (Choulis et al., 2019; Kosnik, 2017).
The robust link to social cohesion—as explained, a central challenge for today’s democracies—is further evident in how conscription and reserve service are avenues both for gendered participation in the national collective and for cultivating identification with the country. It is also apparent in the fact that many families are personally linked to the military through webs of exchange of information, support, and often material aid. It is in this light that the link between the military’s “uniqueness” and cohesion should be seen. The willingness of troops to sacrifice life and limb in violent encounters is the central element in the military covenant because equal burden sharing and an equal taking on of risk also downplays social divisions (Levy, 2013). Theoretically, then, this point underscores the key difference between military covenants and the kinds of compacts marking other public service bodies such as the education or welfare systems.
Internal Contradictions and Breaches
The dynamic or processual nature of the covenant is also an outcome of its internal contradictions. The prime contemporary example of this contradiction in our case—as in the military covenants of all contemporary democracies—is between the expectations underlying the neo-Liberal emphases in militaries and the terms of the republican contract (centered on the military’s uniqueness). Willingness to sacrifice oneself for the national collective and loyalty to the group stand in tension with considerations of efficiency and personal gain from military service. An expression of this contradiction can be found in images of soldiers as the epitome of contribution to the country and the shift to seeing soldiers as “clients” or “customers” that the armed forces have to cater to. Indeed, the formalization of the role of troops’ spokespersons and the activities of the reserve officers’ union in Estonia are evidence of such a shift because these roles are sort of lobbies (“labor unions”) representing the interests of troops or officers. No less important, formalization and legalization of covenants also removes some of the leeway for negotiation and informal influence between actors and thus reduce the possibility of compromise (Arnold, 2012). Analytically, this kind of reasoning, in turn, well fits Feaver’s (1999) argument that a well-defined line between the military and political spheres is neither desirable nor realistic.
The trajectory of Estonia is characteristic of most democracies today and since resorting to greater coercion is limited and ad hoc pragmatic solutions are partial, they may face potentially problematic situations in the future. Analytically, this means that a devaluation of the rewards of Republicanism (access to resources and entry to citizenship) may affect publics’ willingness to sacrifice (Levy, 2013). Accordingly, the cultural expectations of neo-Liberalism for Estonia, as for any democracy, may lead to lowered willingness to serve. Ironically then, the move to add and emphasize material rewards and self-actualization to the status of Republican elements of the covenant have the potential for undermining it. At the same time, and this point is important for theoretical development, the emergence of credible national threats may offset this development because they strengthen the republican elements of the military covenant. In other words, as security circumstances change, so does the relative weight of different elements of the covenant. Today, with the move away from expeditionary missions to home defense found in many democracies, we may see a shift back to ideas about sacrifice and mobilization for the national collective.
A similar contradiction can be seen between the ideology of gender equality and male-centered ideas about service. One manifestation of this incongruity may be the acceptance of greater numbers of women but their intentional or unintentional limitation or marginalization in the military hierarchy, thus creating further tensions. In analytical terms, this example highlights a possible decoupling between the declared elements of military covenants and the on-the-ground practices of recruitment, retention, and promotion.
Internal contradictions taken to the extreme may eventuate in resistance (or withdrawal). Because the covenant is seen as morally binding, when breached, social protests, negative reports, parliamentary debates, or judicial proceedings may eventuate (McGarry et al., 2012; Tulloch, 2010). For example, when some groups see that universalism of recruitment is not applied, then they may take-up different forms of resistance. Such breaches may then undermine the social contract and damage sentiments of cohesion. For the past decade, the EDF and politicians have had to manage a small number of such breaches. However, the relatively low numbers of violations of the covenant—occasional bullying and hazing of conscripts, a Russian-speaking officer convicted for treason, or infrequent media accounts of soldiers’ injuries—express the abidance of the military to the terms of the covenant, and unsurprisingly, it has thus been rewarded with high levels of support and trust. This success is the outcome of negotiations about the covenant and continual adjustment by the military to meet social and cultural expectations about service and preparations for war. Again, analytically, these examples underscore how covenants as relational contracts are continually scrutinized and bargained about by civilian publics, politicians, and the military.
Along these lines, we conjecture that as military service becomes more conditional and negotiated, the armed forces must devote greater efforts to maintain legitimacy and acceptability. In turn, as service becomes more conditional the more the plethora of mechanisms in place for handling choice and managing the tensions will grow. These problems may emerge precisely because the power of the covenant lies in its relational character where many expectations between the parties are implicit. Thus, the more the incentives are made explicit—special monetary compensation or benefits or greater convertibility of military skills and resources to civilian worlds—the weaker the implicit understandings.
In conclusion, to be analytically useful, the military covenant should be understood as a dynamic relational contract involving negotiated sets of agreements between individuals, groups, and civilian and military decision-makers. To be resilient and to contribute to social cohesion, the covenant must change and adapt to a country’s changing circumstances. In Estonia, this dynamic feature is evident both in shifting attitudes toward managing the perceived distinctive characteristics of Russian-speakers and women and in adapting to emerging expectations that military service contributes to individuals. Moreover, both examples—managing diversity and offering avenues for self-actualization—illustrate how the terms of a negotiated covenant become starting points for further negotiations about the fairness of the exchange, the groups it covers, and how it is implemented.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to thank Yagil Levy, Michael Sang, Eitan Shamir, and Avo Trumm for comments on an earlier draft of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This research was carried out in cooperation with the Estonian Military Academy and University of Tartu, under projects nos. R-006 and SSVUH18330.