Norway has officially completed its fleet of F-35 fighter jets, with the delivery of the final two aircraft confirmed by the Norwegian Embassy in Washington via a post on X on April 1, 2025. This milestone concludes a long acquisition process, bringing the Royal Norwegian Air Force’s total to 52 of these advanced fifth-generation stealth fighters.
And no, this isn’t an April Fool’s prank—though the timing might make you double-check the calendar. The news, while straightforward, opens a window into a much larger story about security, strategy, and the challenges of wielding cutting-edge military tech in one of the world’s most unforgiving regions.
The arrival of these last two jets comes at a pivotal moment for Norway and its allies. Tensions in the Arctic have been simmering for years, fueled by Russia’s growing military presence near the Norwegian border and its assertive maneuvers in the High North.
Just months ago, Norwegian F-35s scrambled to intercept Russian Tu-95 bombers escorted by Su-33 fighters off the coast, a reminder of the constant vigilance required in this strategic frontier. As a NATO member sharing a 120-mile land border with Russia, Norway’s role in monitoring and deterring potential threats has never been more critical.
The completion of its F-35 fleet enhances its ability to project power and gather intelligence in a region where melting ice is opening new shipping lanes and resource opportunities—drawing the attention of both allies and adversaries. Experts suggest this delivery aligns with NATO’s broader push to strengthen its northern flank, especially as Finland and Sweden, now full alliance members, reshape the security dynamics of Northern Europe.
But integrating 52 state-of-the-art aircraft into a small nation’s air force isn’t as simple as parking them in a hangar and calling it a day. Norway’s northern climate poses unique challenges that go beyond what most F-35 operators face. At bases like Ørland and Evenes, temperatures can plummet below zero, and harsh winds whip across exposed runways.
Maintaining these jets—known for their complex electronics and stealth coatings—requires meticulous care in conditions that can degrade equipment faster than in milder climates. Spare parts, too, are a logistical puzzle. With bases scattered across Norway’s rugged terrain, getting components to remote locations quickly is no small feat.
The Norwegian Defence Materiel Agency has acknowledged these hurdles, noting in a recent statement that upgrades to Ørland and the reactivation of Bardufoss Air Station, a Cold War-era facility, were necessary to support the fleet. Yet, even with these investments, questions linger about whether Norway can sustain the operational tempo needed to keep all 52 jets combat-ready.
The F-35A Lightning II itself is a marvel of modern engineering, designed by Lockheed Martin to dominate 21st-century battlefields. It’s a single-engine, single-seat multirole fighter, capable of air-to-air combat, ground attack, and electronic warfare—all while evading enemy radar thanks to its stealth design.
Powered by a Pratt & Whitney F135 turbofan engine, it generates up to 43,000 pounds of thrust, pushing the jet to a top speed of Mach 1.6, or about 1,200 miles per hour. Its range stretches over 1,350 miles with internal fuel, and it can climb to 50,000 feet, giving it the reach and altitude to operate across vast Arctic expanses.
The jet’s internal weapons bays can carry up to 5,700 pounds of ordnance, including AIM-120 AMRAAM missiles for air targets and precision-guided bombs like the GBU-53/B StormBreaker. Externally, it can haul an additional 12,000 pounds when stealth isn’t a priority.
What sets it apart, though, is its sensor suite: the AN/APG-81 radar and AN/AAQ-37 Distributed Aperture System provide a 360-degree view, detecting threats and targets at extreme distances. This fusion of stealth, speed, and situational awareness makes it a game-changer—on paper, at least.
Norway’s neighbors offer a useful lens to understand what these 52 jets mean for the region. Sweden, a historically neutral power now in NATO, relies on its homegrown Saab JAS 39 Gripen, a nimble fourth-generation fighter optimized for short runways and rapid deployment.
The Gripen lacks the F-35’s stealth but boasts lower operating costs and a proven track record in Sweden’s own harsh northern climate. Finland, meanwhile, is also transitioning to the F-35, with plans to acquire 64 jets—a larger fleet than Norway’s—reflecting its own concerns about Russian aggression along its 800-mile border.
Unlike Norway, Finland’s doctrine emphasizes territorial defense over expeditionary missions, suggesting its F-35s will focus on homeland protection rather than regional power projection.
Norway’s approach lies somewhere in between: its F-35s, paired with the Norwegian-developed Joint Strike Missile (JSM), give it a long-range strike capability that could reach deep into contested areas, whether for deterrence or reconnaissance. This mix of stealth and standoff weapons positions Norway as a key player in NATO’s Arctic strategy, potentially working alongside U.S. forces stationed in the region.
The JSM deserves a closer look, as it’s a critical piece of this puzzle. Developed by Kongsberg Defence & Aerospace, it’s a precision-guided cruise missile designed to fit inside the F-35’s internal bays, preserving the jet’s low radar profile.
With a range exceeding 300 miles, it can strike ships or land targets using an imaging infrared seeker and GPS navigation. Its ability to communicate with other missiles or its launch platform mid-flight adds a layer of flexibility, making it ideal for complex missions in denied environments.
Kongsberg’s collaboration with Raytheon has also brought industrial benefits to Norway, with the company securing contracts to supply JSMs to the U.S. Air Force and Japan, among others. A 2024 deal worth $141 million for 48 missiles underscores its growing role in NATO arsenals. For Norway, the JSM isn’t just a weapon—it’s a symbol of how this small nation leverages its defense industry to punch above its weight.
That industrial angle ties into a broader political story. Norway’s commitment to the F-35 program, which began in the early 2000s, has cost billions—estimates peg the acquisition phase alone at over $8.9 billion, with lifetime costs potentially hitting $33.9 billion by 2054, according to Army Recognition.
That’s a hefty price tag for a country of 5.5 million people, and it’s sparked quiet debates at home. Critics argue it deepens Norway’s reliance on the U.S., both for parts and operational support, at a time when European allies are pushing for greater self-sufficiency. Supporters, including Defense Minister Bjørn Arild Gram, counter that the investment bolsters Norway’s deterrence and strengthens ties with Washington—a vital hedge against Russian unpredictability.
Yet, readiness is only half the story. The F-35’s complexity has a downside: its maintenance demands are notorious. A 2023 Government Accountability Office report found that U.S. F-35s were mission-capable just 55% of the time, plagued by delays in spare parts and software glitches.
Norway, with its smaller budget and workforce, faces similar risks. Training enough pilots and technicians—hundreds are needed for a fleet this size—adds another layer of difficulty. The Norwegian Air Force has leaned on U.S. facilities, with six jets stationed stateside for pilot training, but scaling that up domestically remains a work in progress.
Compare this to Russia’s air forces, and the stakes come into sharper focus. Moscow fields a mix of aging Soviet-era jets like the Tu-95 and newer platforms like the Su-57, a fifth-generation fighter meant to rival the F-35. The Su-57 boasts supercruise and advanced avionics, but its stealth capabilities lag and production has been slow—fewer than 20 are operational, per open-source estimates.
Stepping back, the completion of Norway’s F-35 fleet is more than a hardware upgrade—it’s a statement of intent. It solidifies Oslo’s role as a linchpin in NATO’s northern defenses. Yet, in a region where Russia’s electronic jammers and hypersonic weapons loom large, 52 jets—however advanced—may not guarantee invincibility.
For now, the Arctic skies are quiet, but the shadow of those final two F-35s landing at Ørland hints at a future where deterrence hangs by a thread—and where the real test of this investment is yet to come.
