France’s nukes and Europe’s worries about Trump in spotlight as Macron heads to top-secret sub base

For decades, Europe has lived under a protective umbrella of U.S. nuclear weapons, stationed on the continent since the mid-1950s to deter the former Soviet Union and now Russia. Lately, however, some European politicians and defense analysts are questioning whether Washington can still be relied upon to use such force if needed.

As the only nuclear-armed member of the 27-nation European Union, the questions are particularly pertinent for France.

Possible revisions to France’s nuclear deterrence policy, sure to be carefully calibrated and scrutinized by allies and potential enemies alike, could be among the most consequential decisions that Macron makes in his remaining 14 months as president, before elections to choose his successor in 2027.

That Macron feels a need to bare France’s nuclear teeth, in what will be the commander in chief’s second keynote speech laying out the country’s deterrence posture since his election in 2017, speaks to his concerns, voiced multiple times, about geopolitical and defense-technology shifts that threaten the security of France and its allies.

Those voicing doubts about Washington's reliability include Rasmus Jarlov, chair of the Danish parliament’s Defense Committee.

“If things got really serious, I very much doubt that Trump would risk American cities to protect European cities,” he said in an interview with The Associated Press. “We don’t know but it seems very risky to rely on the American protection.”

He and others are turning to France for reassurance. In the longer term, Jarlov argues that other European nations also need to arm themselves with nuclear weapons — an almost unfathomable prospect when U.S. protection seemed absolute in European minds.

“The Nordic countries have the capacity. We have uranium, we have nuclear scientists. We can develop nuclear weapons,” he said. “Realistically, it will take a lot of time. So in the short term, we are looking to France.”

Adjusting to geopolitical risks

The world has changed dramatically since Macron’s first policy-making nuclear speech in 2020, with new uncertainties shoving old certainties aside.

The full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine, now entering its fifth year, brought war to the EU’s door and repeated threats of possible nuclear use from Russian President Vladimir Putin.

China is expanding its nuclear arsenal. So, too, is North Korea’s nuclear-armed military. In October, Trump spoke about U.S. intentions to resume nuclear tests for the first time since 1992, although U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright later said that such tests would not include nuclear explosions.

Russia revised its deterrence policy in 2024, lowering its bar for possible retaliation with nuclear weapons. The United Kingdom has announced plans to buy nuclear-capable U.S.-made F-35A fighter jets, restoring a capacity to deliver nuclear airstrikes that it phased out in the 1990s, leaving it with just submarine-based nuclear missiles.

The chosen site for Macron’s speech on Monday — the Île Longue base for France’s four nuclear-armed submarines — will drive home that French presidents also have nuclear muscle at their disposal in an increasingly unstable world. They each can carry 16 M51 intercontinental ballistic missiles armed with multiple warheads.

“There are high expectations from the allies and partners, and maybe also the adversaries, about how the French nuclear doctrine could evolve,” said Héloïse Fayet, a nuclear deterrence specialist at the French Institute of International Relations, a Paris think tank.

Speaking in an AP interview, Fayet said she’s hoping for “real changes.”

“Maybe something about a greater and a clearer French commitment to the protection of allies, thanks to the French nuclear weapons,” she said.

France’s nuclear force

Macron said in 2020 that France has fewer than 300 warheads — a number that has remained stable since former President Nicolas Sarkozy announced a modest reduction to that level in 2008.

Macron said the force is sufficient to inflict “absolutely unacceptable damage” on the “political, economic, military nerve centers” of any country that threatens the “vital interests” of France, “whatever they may be.”

Nuclear specialists will be watching for any hint from Macron that he no longer considers the French stockpile to be sufficient and that it might need to grow.

The language of deterrence is generally shrouded by deliberate ambiguity, to keep potential enemies guessing about the red lines that could trigger a nuclear response. Officials from Macron’s office, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss the nuclear policy changes that Macron might make, were extremely guarded in their wording, not least because deterrence is a strictly presidential prerogative.

“There will no doubt be some shifts, fairly substantial developments,” one of the officials said.

Protecting Europe

Again with careful wording, Macron in 2020 said the “vital interests” that France could defend with nuclear force don’t end at its borders but also have “a European dimension.”

Some European nations have taken up an offer Macron made then to discuss France’s nuclear deterrence and even associate European partners in French nuclear exercises.

German Chancellor Friedrich Merz says he’s had “initial talks” with Macron about nuclear deterrence and has publicly theorized about German Air Force planes possibly being used to carry French nuclear bombs.

European nations engaging with France are seeking “a second life insurance” against any possibility of U.S. nuclear protection being withdrawn, says Etienne Marcuz, a French nuclear defense specialist at the Paris-based Foundation for Strategic Research think tank.

“The United States are unpredictable — have become unpredictable — because of the Trump 2 administration,” he said. “That has legitimately raised the question of whether the United States would truly be prepared to protect Europe, and above all, whether they would be willing to deploy their nuclear forces in defense of Europe.”

Associated Press writers Sylvie Corbet in Paris and Kirsten Grieshaber in Berlin contributed.