France chooses the nuclear option
With the eyes of the world fixed on the Middle East, the recent announcement by President Emmanuel Macron, made with much pomp and circumstance, of his government’s decision to strengthen French, and European, deterrence capabilities by expanding its nuclear posture received far less attention than it deserved.
Macron declared that France would not only modernize but also increase its nuclear capabilities, and would be willing to deploy nuclear-armed fighter jets to other parts of the continent. For all intents and purposes, France is assuming the mantle of providing a nuclear umbrella for Europeans, taking a calculated risk at one of the most volatile moments since the end of the Cold War.
Since at least the 1980s, the general trajectory among the nuclear powers has been toward the reduction of nuclear stockpiles and the modernization of existing arsenals, rather than expansion. The notable exception to this in recent years has been China, which has been increasing its stockpile of nuclear warheads by about 100 devices a year, faster than any other country, bringing its total number of warheads to an estimated 600 or more.
However, Russia and the US still possess the overwhelming majority of the world’s nuclear weapons. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, the US has about 5,277 warheads, while Russia possesses approximately 5,459. By comparison, France has a much smaller arsenal of about 290 warheads, while the UK has about 225 — modest numbers in comparison but still representing a formidable nuclear capability.
The decision by France raises an obvious question: Is this primarily a symbolic gesture, in particular since no specific figures were provided regarding the planned increase to its arsenal? Or is it a clear signal to potential adversaries that nuclear capability is becoming a central element of Europe’s evolving security paradigm?
The answer is probably a bit of both. Europe increasingly fears that it cannot rely entirely on its major NATO ally, the US, in the event of a direct, existential military threat. The French move reflects growing skepticism about whether NATO, in its current political configuration, can provide the same level of security guarantees on which Europe has relied since 1949. Macron’s announcement therefore signals Europe’s entry into what might be described as the “post-post-Cold War” era.
There is little doubt that Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, now in its fifth year, has been a defining moment in the return of high-intensity warfare to the European continent. Although Europe, like the rest of the world, had eight years to prepare after the initial Russian invasion of parts of Ukraine in 2014, many European states, as well as the EU as a whole, failed to act decisively.
Worse still, as Moscow has grown increasingly frustrated with the present stalemate in Ukraine, it has resorted to implicit and explicit nuclear threats in an attempt to pressure the West over its military and diplomatic support for Kyiv. These signals have included placing nuclear forces on heightened alert, testing and deploying new nuclear systems, and suspending participation in key arms-control arrangements with the US.
This pattern of signaling from Moscow suggests that if President Vladimir Putin were to find himself strategically cornered, the nuclear option, however unlikely, could not be entirely dismissed. Is he bluffing? Probably. Can the rest of the world afford to ignore such threats? Certainly not.
At the same time, pressure from Washington has played a role. President Donald Trump has repeatedly demanded that NATO members increase their defense spending to better confront future threats. Europe has now internalized both the threat from Russia and the American demand for greater burden-sharing by developing a more autonomous military strategy for its own survival.
As Macron put it in his speech: “To be free, one must be feared. To be feared, one must be powerful.”
His initiative is designed not only to position France as a leader in Europe’s emerging security doctrine, one with a clear nuclear dimension, but also to encourage European partners to develop a united, resilient, and coherent strategic posture. At the same time, Macron emphasized that this shift does not imply the exclusion of the US from its central role in European security.
Speaking at a naval base in Brittany in front of the nuclear-powered submarine Le Temeraire, he outlined what he described as a new doctrine of “forward deterrence.” In essence, the doctrine is both a national initiative and an attempt to embed France’s nuclear deterrent more deeply within the broader European security architecture. However, Macron made it clear that France would retain full sovereign control over its nuclear forces and would not grant decision-making authority over them to any external body, including European allies.
Only a few years ago, less than two weeks before the war in Ukraine began, Macron struck a very different tone. In a speech at that time he emphasized the fact that France had maintained what he described as “a unique track record in the world,” having irreversibly dismantled its land-based nuclear component, closed its nuclear test facilities, ended fissile-material production for weapons, and reduced the size of its arsenal.
These decisions, he argued, demonstrated his country’s commitment to rejection of any form of an arms race, while maintaining a nuclear deterrent at a level of “strict sufficiency.” This “exemplary track record,” Macron argued at the time, gave France the legitimacy to call on other nuclear powers to make tangible progress toward “comprehensive, progressive, credible, and verifiable disarmament.”
Four years later, however, Russian aggression, extending far beyond Ukraine, has produced a profound doctrinal shift. The move by France is bold. If the EU develops a coherent continental security doctrine, ideally in cooperation with the UK, it could provide at least a short-to-medium-term answer to external threats. It might also convince Washington that Europeans are taking greater responsibility for their own defense.
Nevertheless, the risks should not be underestimated. France’s new doctrine could help trigger a renewed wave of nuclear proliferation. Donald Tusk, the prime minister of Poland, has already indicated that his country might eventually seek nuclear weapons capability. Poland may not be the last to consider such a path. Other states, perhaps not only within Europe, might conclude that the changing strategic environment justifies entering a new era of nuclear competition.
