Drills on paper, chaos in the field — where is the civil protection culture?

The aftermath of the saga of a drone that veered off its trajectory is invaluable teaching material for policymakers and practitioners in the field of internal security. The incident vividly shows that Estonia lacks a systematic civil protection culture — suffice it to note that the municipality learned of its own crisis after the fact, via the media.1

On an early August morning, the aftermath of a drone that fell and exploded exposed more than a few embarrassing details. There were quite a number of security and law-enforcement agencies that responded (albeit only after a conscientious farmer’s call), yet the municipality and residents were essentially left uninformed about what had happened—or it was simply not deemed necessary to tell them.

In either case, this raises questions about the role of municipalities and communities in crisis management. On the one hand, municipalities are being assigned ever more tasks in crisis preparedness. Tabletop and field exercises follow one after another to practise cooperation. Yet it turns out that this much-rehearsed, multi-level cooperation does not work literally out in the field, where realistic scenarios actually unfold. This points to the absence of a deeper civil protection culture—one that is ingrained and operates, so to speak, on muscle memory.

Why involve the local government?

As long as the local government is not even informed about what happened, we cannot speak of a functioning, broad-based civil protection system. Such a system exists only when there is effective multi-level cooperation. Estonia’s crisis management must not drift into a situation where demands are placed on local governments, yet in a real crisis they are seen—put bluntly—as a superfluous actor. Or worse: they are simply not trusted to be entrusted with important information.

The late involvement of the local government is regrettable, because it deprived responsible officials there—and the community—of the chance to learn under real conditions how to handle the situation. In hindsight one can, of course, think through what the municipality would have done, but that strips away the pressure and stress that would show how the system functions under pressure, in real-life conditions.

We must also discuss the individual’s role in the incident. Part of a civil-protection culture is that every person reports a suspected bomb or explosion to the authorities—primarily by calling the emergency centre. Thanks to journalists’ work, it has emerged that several local residents thought a bomb had exploded or even that war had begun.² Yet none of those who heard the early-morning blast called the emergency centre. This failure to report raises questions chiefly about whether the state’s communication—regarding the possibility of drones falling in Estonia and the correct actions to take in such a case—came too late. There has been much talk about the need to alleviate fear of war and that the state should not frighten people unnecessarily,³ yet the practical skill—calling the emergency centre when an explosion is suspected—has not been convincingly conveyed.

A civil protection culture also includes speaking realistically about different hazards and teaching what to do in specific situations—especially in a region where drone warfare has been going on for years. People need to know that when there is a state next door that uses all manner of explosive devices against another country every day, it is only elementary to educate the population to cope with such risks. Since the state’s messaging has so far said that it is essentially impossible for any drone to end up here—figuratively, that every bush would start firing from the very first centimetre (of airspace)—people do not believe the drone threat is real at all and therefore do not think through an action plan in advance. Hence individuals do not report, because “this cannot happen.” In this respect, the fault lies not with the person but with inadequate communication.

No drone, no problem?

In this case, it wasn’t only the drone that veered off course; crisis management also departed from what has been practiced for years—above all multilayered coordination and inclusion. The drone incident once again highlights deficiencies in the internal security system. This is a problem that needs solving, because in a modern military crisis such incidents are frequent. Clearly, you can’t respond to every case in wartime with major force—and perhaps you don’t need to. But the public must know what to do—or whether to do anything at all—and the municipality must know what to tell people to prevent greater harm.

One might think that you should inform the public only when there is a real danger, but wait. To do that, you first have to know about the danger. How would even that work without a radar network? Just as it takes two to tango, effective warning also needs two parties—a threat that has been detected and a notifier. We are still stuck in a catch-22. Besides, what would have happened if the municipality had been the first to spot the drone and announced it on social media? When there are no guidelines, nothing is ruled out.

The lack of clear instructions is one of the main obstacles to coping with a crisis—especially when public-safety resources are scarce.

Inevitably, at the start of a crisis, local people have to manage on their own for a while, but without understandable guidance and an ingrained culture of civil protection, that isn’t realistic. Therefore, the systematic development of guidelines and skills is unavoidable, particularly in the already pared-down field of internal security, where frontline workers’ pay, promises, and negotiations are accompanied by consistency⁴ and the stench of manure.

Both the virtually non-existent funding and the culture around civil protection are the result of the sector’s continued undervaluation — next to buying missiles, it is still seen as a playground for “softies.” Let this serve as a cautionary prediction: in a serious crisis, everyone who does not have the option, like a high-ranking government official, to send their family off to Brussels or elsewhere will feel the absence of civil protection.³ And that will painfully eat away at approval ratings, defence capability, and overall morale.

× The op-ed (by Hannes Nagel) was first published on August 29, 2025 on the Estonian Daily web portal. Photo: attack drone in the air (Crisis Research Centre, 2025).

Sources:

¹ Viita-Neuhaus, A. 2025. Kohalikku omavalitsust ründedrooni juhtumist ei teavitatud. Postimees, 26.08.2025.

² Muraveiski, K. 2025. SELGITAJA | Kuidas pääses ohtlik ründedroon üle Eesti piiri ning miks PPA ega kaitsevägi seda ei märganud. Delfi, 26.08.2025.

³ Epner, E. ja Tamme, S. 2025. Saatanlik lõks. Kuidas kujunes sõnum, et Eesti on järgmine. Eesti Ekspress,25.08.2025.

⁴ Lomp, L.-E. 2025. RESi tuliseim arutelu tuleb palkade üle läbi rääkides. Postimees, 25.08.2025.

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