In early March, French President Emmanuel Macron stood at a windswept submarine base on the Breton coast and quietly buried four decades of French nuclear orthodoxy. The arsenal would grow. The numbers would be hidden. And for the first time, nuclear weapons that France built to defend Paris might one day be deployed to protect Berlin.
Three simultaneous shifts — an increase of nuclear warheads; an end to transparency over the size of the force de frappe; and the launch of “advanced deterrence,” a framework offering European partners strategic dialogues, invitations to French nuclear exercises, and the potential forward basing of French dual-capable aircraft — mark a significant departure in French nuclear policy. They effectively abandon the traditional French nuclear principles of strict sufficiency, calibrated disclosure, and sovereign restraint, refined across successive presidencies from François Mitterrand through François Hollande. From now on, France’s arsenal will grow, disclosure is over, and French nuclear forces will be woven, carefully, into a broader European security architecture. That is, if French domestic political forces do not tear it all down.
Under scrutiny, Macron’s policy shifts bring acute political costs that will require significant work between France and its nuclear partners. First, as an insurance policy against NATO, advanced deterrence allows Europe to build a fallback capability without openly challenging Washington, though structural differences between French forward presence and NATO nuclear sharing raise serious questions about whether Paris can truly reassure allies accustomed to American operational integration. Second, with the 2027 presidential election approaching and the far-right Rassemblement National (National Rally) party hostile to European nuclear commitments, Macron’s framework may not survive its architect. Third, a new Franco-German bilateral nuclear steering group — Germany’s first formal nuclear coordination outside NATO — represents a historic departure from previous sharing arrangements. Yet, history cautions that French-led collective defense proposals have a pattern of falling apart.
Macron’s initiative could be the most consequential shift in European nuclear deterrence in decades, but its success hinges on whether Paris and its partners can entrench it through regular ministerial consultations, joint exercises, and treaty-level commitments before French domestic politics gets in the way.
Advanced Deterrence as NATO Insurance
Macron’s proposal implicitly acknowledges that a leading reason for offering a “plan B” is Europe’s perceived loss of faith in U.S. extended nuclear deterrence, should President Donald Trump follow through on his threats to withdraw the United States from NATO. The French president insisted that the advanced deterrence framework had been developed “in full transparency with Washington” and was “complementary to NATO’s nuclear mission.” In a similar vein, Macron and German Chancellor Merz stated the new cooperation will only “add to, not substitute for” NATO’s current nuclear deterrence and sharing arrangements. So far, eight NATO members have signed on to the “European dimension” of the French nuclear deterrent: Belgium, Denmark, Germany, Greece, the Netherlands, Poland, Sweden, and the United Kingdom.
The hedging behavior is understandable. If the American deterrent becomes perceived as hollow — whether through a withdrawal of B-61s from European territory or a broader collapse of alliance trust — a French-led alternative would theoretically be ready. But is it sufficient to reassure anxious allies?
Indeed, there are notable differences between NATO’s current nuclear sharing arrangement and the new French proposal. First, French nuclear forces would be temporary, not permanent like the current longstanding deployment of U.S. nuclear bombs on the territory of five NATO allies (Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, and Turkey). Macron has said that any forward deployment of French nuclear forces would be temporary, likely involving Rafale jets carrying ASMPA-R nuclear cruise missiles during multinational exercises and “circumstantial deployments” — a deliberately vague formulation that leaves open the duration, scale, and triggering conditions of any basing arrangement.
Second, and related, the basing of U.S. nuclear bombs on allied territory currently involves host-nation pilots being trained and certified to deliver them. This gives allies a direct operational role. By contrast, the French proposal keeps delivery exclusively in French hands: French Rafale jets with French crews operating from allied airfields on rotation. Allied participation is limited to host-nation support. This is forward presence, not nuclear sharing. That distinction matters for allied buy-in and reassurance. A critical learning and socialization process may be lost by restricting nuclear missions to French servicemembers. It is notable, however, that not all NATO allies participate in dual-capable missions.
Finally, the comparatively limited size of France’s nuclear arsenal — fewer than 300 warheads — implies that it will be hard to assure allies already accustomed to U.S. extended deterrence, a feat already challenging enough. While a new doctrine of opacity would make France’s quantity theoretically unknowable, Macron asserted that “there is no need for symmetry of arsenals.” Historically, France’s nuclear doctrine was designed to protect French territory, not to provide the flexible options allies have come to expect under U.S. protection, which relies on nuclear superiority and counterforce capability — neither of which France has, relative to Russia. Instead, France’s “strict sufficiency” is a counter-value doctrine: It threatens to destroy an enemy’s cities, not to systematically outmatch its military capabilities.
The Domestic Gamble
Macron’s nuclear ambitions rest on a fragile political foundation. His presidency ends in 2027, and the French constitution bars a third term. The National Rally, leading in polls for the next election, has consistently framed nuclear sovereignty as non-negotiable and shown little appetite for tying French strategic decisions to allied interests. Party leaders Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardella consider advanced deterrence “a dispersion of our nuclear means across European territory,” insisting that “deterrence commits the Nation. It is not delegated.” In May, Le Pen wrote that “sharing [French] deterrence means abolishing it” and that a pan-European deterrent “would further weaken our democracy, which has already been stripped of most of its powers in favor of unelected supranational institutions.” Indeed, Macron’s reversal of Sarkozy-era nuclear transparency and disarmament commitments has handed domestic critics a ready-made line of attack: that the president is dismantling decades of responsible nuclear stewardship without a democratic mandate to do so. However, a presidency shaped by the far right could freeze or reverse the proposed advanced deterrence framework before it is even deployed.
This is not without precedent. In the late 1950s, the French government under Prime Minister Guy Mollet proposed a Franco-Italian-German nuclear weapons program. In 1958, upon his return to political life, then-Prime Minister Charles de Gaulle killed the proposal, insisting on French strategic autonomy and foreshadowing his later decision to withdraw from NATO’s integrated multinational military command. France’s pattern of initiating and then walking away from European defense proposals is precisely what makes allies nervous today.
Macron appears to understand the vulnerability. By binding eight NATO allies into formal consultation mechanisms and launching joint exercises now, he is trying to create institutional facts on the ground that a successor would find politically costly to dismantle. The Franco-German steering group, the invitation to allied observers at French nuclear exercises, and the forward basing arrangements all serve this purpose. But 18 months is not much time. If the next president inherits a framework that exists mostly on paper, “advanced deterrence” risks joining the European Defence Community and the Mollet nuclear project on the list of French collective defense initiatives abandoned due to domestic politics.
France’s allies know this history. Their willingness to invest political capital in Macron’s proposal will depend on whether they believe it can outlast him.
The Franco-German Coupling: The Real Structural Breakthrough
Franco-German defense cooperation suffered a visible setback beginning in June when Paris and Berlin abandoned their joint Future Combat Air System fighter jet program, yet the nuclear steering group shows the relationship runs deeper than any single procurement project. For the first time since the Cold War, Germany is building a nuclear relationship outside the NATO framework and with a European ally. This might very well turn out to be the biggest development in France’s new nuclear doctrine. However, Berlin’s simultaneous recommitment to the U.S. umbrella reveals the limits of how far it is willing to go.
Germany, a country whose post-World War II identity is constructed around dependence on the American nuclear guarantee, institutionalized through decades of participation in NATO’s Nuclear Planning Group and nuclear sharing arrangements, is now testing the waters with a European ally. The new Franco-German nuclear steering group establishes a permanent bilateral framework for doctrinal dialogue and coordination of conventional, missile defense, and French nuclear capabilities. German forces will participate in French nuclear drills this year, beginning as observers in the annual classified Poker exercise simulating nuclear strike missions, roughly equivalent to NATO’s Steadfast Noon, along with joint visits to strategic nuclear sites. No non-nuclear NATO ally has ever had this level of structured access to a nuclear power’s strategic planning outside the NATO framework.
From a German perspective, this does not represent a departure from a longstanding acceptance of nuclear deterrence as central to its security. Berlin has hosted American nuclear weapons and trained its pilots for the nuclear mission since the Cold War. What is new is the willingness to build a parallel consultative relationship with Paris that implicitly hedges against the perceived diminished reliability of Washington’s nuclear commitment.
The Franco-German nuclear grouping creates a bilateral counterweight to NATO dependence. For Merz, the step is politically bold. Accepting a French nuclear role in German security policy would have been unthinkable five years ago. Not only have German concerns consistently pointed to the size of France’s arsenal, but German reticence over French offers of extended nuclear deterrence stems from Paris’s history of rejecting supranational attempts at collective defense. However, Germany’s engagement with the French nuclear framework should be understood in the context of Berlin’s participation in U.S. nuclear sharing.
Germany’s 2022 decision to procure the F-35A — the only NATO-certified platform for delivering American B61 gravity bombs — represents a concrete, long-term investment in the U.S. nuclear umbrella. In fact, the strains over the Franco-German-Spanish Future Combat Air System coincided with reports of German interest in expanding its F-35A order.
The collapse of Europe’s flagship joint fighter project, even as Berlin deepened its nuclear ties to Paris, captures the ambivalence at the heart of Germany’s hedging. While Germany later “officially denied” that it was upping its order of F-35As, this incident highlights the very real risk that, despite all the Trump administration’s criticism of European allies, Berlin still sees the U.S. umbrella as the safer bet. The British deterrent, often cited as a potential complement, does not resolve this dilemma: The United Kingdom’s Trident system depends operationally on the United States for missile maintenance and warhead design lineage, making an autonomous Anglo-French nuclear guarantee to Europe difficult to sustain without continued American cooperation.
Nuclear Risks and Rewards
Macron’s nuclear proposal carries several risks that the March 2 speech carefully elided.
First, the reassurance gap between French and American extended deterrence is not merely political but operational: NATO nuclear sharing gives allied pilots a direct role in delivering weapons, whereas France would offer consultation and hosting while retaining exclusive control over delivery. No amount of joint exercises can bridge that qualitative difference without a change in French sovereign doctrine — which Paris has ruled out.
Second, France’s relatively small arsenal, designed primarily to inflict unacceptable damage on an adversary’s vital centers, is poorly suited for the flexible, graduated responses that extended deterrence theory demands. NATO allies conditioned by six decades of American escalation-ladder thinking will find a doctrine of “all or nothing” difficult to accept as a credible alternative. Merz’s frustration over the Future Combat Air System highlights real concerns over European defense without the United States.
Third, and perhaps most uncomfortably, the 2027 French presidential election introduces a potential domestic stumbling block. The National Rally, which has consistently treated nuclear sovereignty as sacred and opposed security commitments that subordinate French decisions to allied interests, would likely oppose extending French nuclear guarantees to European partners. Macron may not hold office long enough to entrench the architecture he is building, recalling how de Gaulle dismantled the Mollet government’s multilateral nuclear proposals in the late 1950s. The coming work between France and its eight allies in this venture will be critical to creating a new common security and defense framework and safeguarding against future nationalist turns.
And yet Macron’s initiative offers something no other European leader has: a nuclear deterrent that cannot be withdrawn across the Atlantic. The forward basing of Rafales on European NATO territory likely complicates Russia’s targeting calculus, the steering group forces Berlin to engage with nuclear strategy rather than outsource it to Washington, and binding eight allies into formal mechanisms creates political costs for any future French president who might try to dismantle them. To be sure, none of this replaces the American nuclear umbrella. But if that umbrella closes, Europe will not be starting from scratch.
France should move quickly to formalize the consultation mechanisms announced on March 2, embedding them in bilateral agreements that bind future presidents rather than relying on personal diplomacy. The eight NATO allies, particularly Germany, should press Paris for clarity on what forward deployment actually entails, starting with whether warheads will accompany the French aircraft. And Washington should resist treating Macron’s initiative as a competitor to NATO. A more resilient European nuclear posture serves American interests too, especially if a future administration follows through on threats to scale back its European commitments. The worst outcome for all parties would be an advanced deterrence framework that is too developed to ignore but too fragile to trust.
If a French nuclear deterrent extended to other European countries is finally going to come to fruition, there will need to be continuity between presidents, learning among allies, and — very urgently — an honest conversation about what advanced deterrence means in practice.
Amélie Jaques-Apke, Ph.D., is an associate researcher at the Center of Political Research at Sciences Po Paris and a senior fellow at the Friedrich Naumann Foundation’s Global Security Hub in Brussels. She is the founder of the Young Security Conference, a transatlantic think tank on European security. Her research covers European defense policy, strategic autonomy, foreign information manipulation and interference, and transatlantic relations.
Lily Wojtowicz is a Ph.D. candidate at American University’s School of International Service and a non-resident fellow at the Chicago Council on Global Affairs. She will be a Stanton Nuclear Postdoctoral Fellow at the Hertie School’s Centre for International Security in Berlin as of Fall 2026. Her dissertation examines how allies assess the credibility of U.S. extended nuclear deterrence.
Image: Marine nationale via Wikimedia Commons
