Fredrik Palmquist arrived in Warsaw straight from the role of head of Swedish military support to Ukraine. As defence attaché, he now faces Europe's fastest rearmament, and to Swedish companies wanting in, he has a straightforward message: have a name, be present, and be able to answer who will service the system in two years' time.
Fredrik Palmquist has a long career in the navy behind him, from ship commander on a Kaparen-class patrol boat to head of the Fourth Naval Combat Flotilla and the build-up of the naval staff at Muskö (near Stockholm, Sweden). He then became a military adviser at the Ministry of Defence, and from November 2022 the person in charge of all Swedish military support to Ukraine, an effort that quickly grew to around 40 billion Swedish kronor a year. Since 1 August he has been defence attaché at the Swedish embassy in Warsaw, Poland.
It is a post right at the centre of events. Poland is rearming faster than any other country in Europe. The defence budget for 2026 is record-high, around 4.8 per cent of GDP, and Palmquist expects the level to hold at around 4.5 per cent into 2027 and beyond. The goal, he says, is to nearly double the armed forces towards half a million personnel, a level Poland is aiming for further ahead, while the country wants Europe's strongest defence in place as early as 2030.
"Poland is very ambitious when it comes to rearmament. That means the money is here, which means industry is here, and international industry is here. That's the chain of causation," he notes.
A defence attaché fundamentally stands on four pillars: intelligence gathering, support to the ambassador on security policy matters, support to bilateral defence contacts, and support to Swedish defence industry. The emphasis varies by posting. In Moscow it would be intelligence gathering and reporting. In Warsaw it lies with industry and bilateral contacts, Palmquist explains.
"I'm not involved in intelligence gathering here; we're allies, and allies don't spy on each other," he says.
Instead, he spends roughly forty per cent of his time on defence industry matters, an equal share on bilateral contacts with authorities, and the rest supporting the ambassador. The industry side comes down to two things: understanding how Poland makes decisions, and connecting the right actors.
"I try to learn how Poland works, build a network of contacts, and connect Swedish companies with Polish needs," he says.
The industry is largely concentrated in the state-owned conglomerate PGZ, Polska Grupa Zbrojeniowa (Polish Armaments Group), which comprises around fifty companies. But it is alongside PGZ that Palmquist sees the most interesting developments.
"Outside PGZ there is a fairly rich landscape of small and medium-sized companies doing a great deal, very quickly, particularly in relation to weapons and sensor systems needed in Ukraine. They are very agile," he says.
So what should a Swedish or Nordic company do if it stands at a crossroads over Poland? Here Palmquist is direct. There is no shortcut, and it is not enough to be the best on paper.
"If you want to do business in Poland, you need to have a name here. And you need to be present, in some way, either yourself or through a representative," he says. Simply finding the right representative is a science in itself.
What he has seen work is starting small and testing the waters, rather than going all in from the start: one product, one campaign, one representative, then evaluating step by step. And no one works alone. At the embassy, three parties work closely together: himself on the defence side, the Ministry for Foreign Affairs' two trade promoters on the civilian side, and Business Sweden, which carries out market research and actor assessments.
A recurring task is explaining Sweden to the Poles, not least the difference in how the two countries are governed.
"A common misconception is that Saab plays the same role in Sweden as PGZ does in Poland, and that all defence deals are politically driven," he says.
That is not how it works in Sweden, and it is something he often has to explain. In Poland, ministerial control is the norm. A minister can designate which company the state should buy from. In Sweden, with its independent government agencies, the same thing is formally prohibited.
Perhaps the most important insight concerns not the product itself, but what happens after the purchase. Poland, Palmquist emphasises, is very careful not to make itself dependent on long supply chains, a lesson the country has learned partly from its large purchases from South Korea.
"They want to be able to sustain themselves. So if you want to come here and sell, you need to be able to answer what things will look like in two years, when the system needs an overhaul," he says.
In practice, that means setting up a local logistics hub, servicing, spare parts and technical support in the country. This, he argues, has become a competitive advantage in its own right.
"It has become a genuine USP (unique selling point) to be able to say: we will set up a logistics hub here that takes care of your needs," he says.
At the same time, the two countries are becoming increasingly intertwined on the materiel side, which in turn creates more natural entry points. Sweden is procuring the Polish soldier-portable short-range air defence system Piorun, designated RBS 102 in Swedish service. This summer the countries signed an agreement under which Poland will buy three Swedish A26 submarines, while in the meantime Poland is leasing HMS Södermanland as an interim solution, with a Polish crew training in Karlskrona (southern Sweden, naval base). Saab is building two signals intelligence vessels for the Polish navy, and Palmquist points to clear Polish interest in airborne radar surveillance capability, where Saab's GlobalEye is one of the options. Frigate projects are running in parallel in both countries, albeit with different vessels.
The foundation for this work, he says, is the enhanced partnership the two prime ministers concluded in 2024 and the Baltic Sea Pact the countries agreed on in 2026. The geographic proximity itself also points towards more cooperation, not least at sea.
"Given how close Karlskrona is to the Polish coast, we will learn from each other, and operational cooperation will increase. I'm fairly convinced of that," he says.
How his own role develops depends on two things. Partly on the network of contacts: once it is built, he can go more directly to the point instead of feeling his way forward. Partly on the wider security situation.
"The security situation is what will determine my future," he says. If it deteriorates sharply, the focus could quickly shift from helping companies get into Poland to the operational side, involving Swedish units and political contacts.
For now, the mission is clear, and demand on his time is hardly likely to diminish.
"My job is to help Swedish industry. If anything comes up with a Nordic dimension, feel free to get in touch," he says, adding with a laugh that he probably risks being inundated with calls.