The French nuclear deterrent and a trainee spook

During my twenties, more years ago than I care to remember, my Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) handler set me a number of tasks. In my naivety, I took these assignments seriously, only realising much later they were simple and rather juvenile tests for a probationer. I was being assessed before being offered a contract in the role of undercover head agent abroad.

I think the recruiters probably wanted to know if I had the initiative, as well as powers of improvisation and persuasion, to gain access to the targets they set, as well as charm people who normally wouldn’t talk to me so that they would do so, at length and in some detail.

  I made my way to Paris. Wearing suit and tie, carrying (empty) briefcase and black umbrella, I headed to the Quai d’Orsay, a wharf on the Left Bank of the Seine in the 7th arrondissement and known as the home of the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, walked in, confidently called out ‘bonjour’ to the reception desk and took the stairs at a run, a man late for work and in a rush. No-one stopped me. I was ignored. I had in my pocket a scrap of paper with a list of the names of ‘young hawks’, recently graduated young diplomats considered to be future stars of the ministry. Names were helpfully posted on the office doors, and all I had to do was march down the corridors, find one, knock and enter. Then repeat. And again.

  My focus that day was the French nuclear deterrent. The ‘Force de frappe’ (officially Force de dissuasion) was then, as now, a symbol of the nation’s independence and complete autonomy in defence. The missiles on board the French Navy’s then six strategic nuclear missile submarines (SSBNs) as well as the nuclear bombs carried by dual-capable strike aircraft weren’t all necessarily pointed at the Soviet Union. French doctrine rested on the phrase ‘tous azimuts’ or ‘in all directions’. In other words, the French authorities would target their nuclear weapons at whatever threat was deemed the most dangerous, the most existential, and not aligned automatically with those of the Anglo-Saxons, especially the United States.

   Since the 1960s, France’s commitment to total autonomy helps explain France’s decision not to participate in NATO’s Nuclear Planning Group, which is of course dominated by Washington. France hasn’t participated in any of NATO’s nuclear planning mechanisms and its nuclear forces are not formally assigned to NATO.

   Since then, there’s been something of a very recent revolution in French nuclear strategy and how Paris sees its role in Europe, and maybe it points the way to our future, too.

   France first tested a nuclear weapon in 1960, eight years after the UK and four years before China. It became the fourth nuclear weapon state. It is one of the five recognised nuclear states under the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty 1968. Paris adopted a policy of ‘strict sufficiency’, whereby it maintains its nuclear arsenal at the lowest possible level compatible with the strategic context, and any use of nuclear weapons is strictly limited to extreme circumstances of self-defence.

   It signed the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty in 1996 and ratified it in 1998. Although the treaty is yet to enter force, France has maintained its moratorium on testing. In February 1996, France announced it had halted production of fissile material for weapons and that it would dismantle production facilities dedicated to its weapons programme. The government advocates an immediate moratorium on the production of fissile materials by all states, and immediate negotiation of a Fissile Material Cut-off Treaty (FMCT).

   By the end of the Cold War, France had some 540 nuclear warheads. Since 1991, it has scaled back its nuclear arsenal by almost half. France also announced in 1996 it would withdraw its remaining strategic land-based ballistic missiles at the Plateau d’Albion. It also reduced its ballistic missile submarine to four boats, and has reduced its alert levels twice since the end of the Cold War, while declaring in 1997 that it had de-targeted all nuclear forces. In 2008, President Sarkozy announced a further one-third reduction in its airborne component with the withdrawal of one nuclear squadron. He said the nuclear stockpile would be reduced to fewer than 300 warheads.

  In recent years, France has modernised its nuclear arsenal, through the Triomphant class of ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs), the replacement of it combat aircraft in a nuclear role, along with the upgrade of both its submarine and air-launched nuclear-armed missile

capabilities and the deployment of new nuclear warheads.

   The Navy has responsibility for around 80 per cent of the nuclear arsenal, mostly delivered by its four Triomphant boats, each capable of deploying up to 16 M-51/ M-51.2 submarine-launched ballistic missiles.  It is said to retain a total of 48 SLBMs in its inventory. Like the UK, France’s SSBNs maintain a continuous at-sea deterrent posture.

   The French Navy also operates a single squadron of Rafale MF3 aircraft equipped with nuclear-armed ASMP-A cruise missiles deployed aboard the nuclear aircraft carrier Charles de Gaulle.

   The French Air Force has two squadrons assigned to the nuclear role, comprising 40 Rafale F3 aircraft, equipped with 54 nuclear-armed medium-range ASMP-A cruise missiles.

   Further modernisation of the French nuclear deterrent is well under way, with work starting on a next generation SSBN to replace the Triomphant class. Work has also begun on a new M-51.3 SLBM as well as a replacement for the ASMP-A air-launched cruise missile from 2035.

  In 1992, the Anglo-French Joint Nuclear Commission was established to coordinate nuclear doctrine, this was taken further in 2010 with a nuclear treaty between France and Britain on the stewardship of nuclear stockpiles.

    In July, 2025, France and Britain signed the Northwood Declaration (Northwood being the name of the location of the UK’s command centre) on coordinating nuclear operations. How that would work in practice seems not to have been made clear publicly.

    The big change came on March 2 this year. President Emmanuel Macron, speaking at the Île Longue naval base, announced a radical reform of French nuclear doctrine.

   The speech seems to have been prompted by urgent geostrategic changes, especially the return of high-intensity conflict on European soil.

    Ukraine aside, I personally don’t think we can entirely exclude other factors, such as Trump’s repeated denigration of European states’ defence posture and spending, his criticism of his NATO allies, his friendship with President Vladimir Putin, as well as Washington’s decision to cut the US military contribution to Europe’s defence.

   Intentionally or not, France seems to have risen to the occasion.

   President Macron announced that France will increase its nuclear arsenal, marking the end of its long contraction since the end of the Cold War. Most important of all, he introduced a new strategic concept of forward deterrence (dissuasion avancée), which paves the way for active participation by selected European allies in French nuclear operations.

   ‘These changes to France’s nuclear doctrine mark a revolution. But not a revolution that questions the transatlantic security. One that reinforces it,’ wrote Etienne Marcuz, senior analyst on strategic armaments and an associate fellow at the Fondation pour la Recherche Stratégique.

   That surely remains to be seen, though.

   Marcuz told the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists: ‘The opening of French nuclear operations to allied participation is not an admission of weakness but rather a powerful signal of European cohesion sent to the continent’s strategic competitor (one adversary or a coalition of adversaries). Such arrangements already exist within NATO, with at least 13 European states actively involved in the Alliance’s nuclear operations—whether through the deployment of US B-61 nuclear bombs on dual-capable aircraft or through NATO’s conventional support to nuclear operations. While this frees up US capabilities for other missions, it in no way diminishes Washington’s ability to conduct nuclear operations autonomously and therefore the credibility of its nuclear deterrence. Above all, this is a political signal. The same will apply to France.’

   Again, European politicians facing mounting electoral challenges from the extreme right cannot ignore changes in voter sentiment, and according to recent polling, the majority of Europeans by and large no longer see the United States as an ally, certainly not one that can be trusted to come to Europe’s assistance.

  Is it possible that Macron saw an opportunity in the chaos of international affairs caused by Trump and his Israeli friend, Netanyahu? French leadership in European security might very well earn Macron and his country considerable prestige among friends and neighbours, deservedly so.

   If the UK’s independent nuclear deterrent costs six percent of Britain’s defence budget, the totally autonomous French equivalent is roughly twice that proportion, at around ten-twelve percent. But the financial burden of strategic independence does seem to be supported by French public opinion, in contract to the UK where pledges of increased defence spending as well as the discredited economic 'austerity' policy notably lack popular support, whatever the major political parties and the billionaire-owned mainstream media might say about it.

    For one thing, France’s philosophy on nuclear weapons use differs significantly from NATO’s.

    ‘Doctrinally, France rejects the concept of graduated or flexible nuclear response: Crossing the nuclear threshold is only conceivable in the most extreme phase of a conflict, if there is an attack on the country’s vital interests, which includes their European dimension,’ Marcuz writes. ‘Before massive retaliation, France may conduct only a single nuclear warning in the form of a limited nuclear strike against one or possibly several targets. This warning seeks to signal to the adversary the change in the nature of the conflict and to restore deterrence, while demonstrating France’s determination to use nuclear weapons to defend its vital interests. This limited strike, which is strategic in nature, does not intend to gain a military advantage but is political in purpose. It would be accompanied by political and diplomatic messages to the adversary, indicating France’s intentions,’ he adds.

  Of the nine partner states involved in the forward deterrence initiative, four operate NATO’s dual-capable aircraft (Belgium, Germany, Greece, and the Netherlands). They will be joined by the United Kingdom, which recently announced its intention to acquire F-35As for this mission. The air forces of these countries already have experience in nuclear weapons deployment. The other four nations (Denmark, Norway, Poland, and Sweden) contribute to NATO’s conventional support to nuclear operations, which they regularly train for.

   ‘The first step in Macron’s gradual approach is logically the participation of these countries’ armed forces in certain French nuclear exercises,’ Marcuz says. ‘The second step in cooperation will involve strategic signalling. It aims to demonstrate France’s determination to protect its interests, “fully factoring in the interests of our allies” into its calculus—including, if necessary, by leveraging its nuclear forces. In peacetime, this could involve temporary deployments of aircraft or even nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines to allied military bases. From now on, Macron points out, any deployment of strategic air forces to one of the nine partner countries will have an implicit or explicit nuclear dimension.’

    Marcuz continues: ‘The third and final step of Macron’s plan is the deployment of strategic forces abroad during a crisis, which gives forward deterrence its full meaning. The dispersion of aircraft contributing to the nuclear mission across foreign bases and airfields serves to increase force survivability in the event of a surprise strike by an adversary and to send a major strategic signal, marking a new threshold in conflict escalation. Until now, such dispersion was only envisaged on French territory….Opening the territories of nine European partners to French nuclear operations now nearly quadruples the area in which the strategic air forces can operate, significantly complicating adversary planning for a disarming strike. It would also increase the political cost of such an attack, as it would require massive strikes against 10 countries instead of one, thereby diluting the risks of coercion by an adversary.’

     Is this perhaps what the future European solidarity will look like in the face of Russian aggression —  and maybe without the United States?

John Fullerton

PS. I should perhaps mention that the reason I sometimes write blogs about aspects of nuclear deterrence is that my forthcoming novel, Oceans Deep, involves a fictitious British SSBN on continuous deterrent patrol during an international crisis. It’s partly about that, and partly about espionage. It will be published traditionally by Roundfire, fiction imprint of Collective books, on May 25, next year.