China’s expanding force of dual-capable missiles is creating a growing source of ambiguity in U.S.-China deterrence. The People’s Liberation Army Rocket Force (PLARF) operates conventional and nuclear missile forces, including systems capable of supporting either mission. Beijing continues to declare a no-first-use policy, and there is no straightforward evidence that Chinese leaders have deliberately lowered the threshold for nuclear employment. The more consequential concern is operational. During a crisis, U.S. forces may track a Chinese missile unit without knowing whether it is supporting a conventional or nuclear mission. A conventional strike against such a system could therefore be interpreted in Beijing as an attempt to degrade China’s nuclear deterrent.

Nuclear-Conventional Ambiguity in the PLARF

China’s stated nuclear posture remains comparatively restrained. Beijing describes its nuclear force as defensive and intended for retaliation and Fiona Cunningham and M. Taylor Fravel find that Chinese strategists have viewed nuclear escalation as difficult to control once nuclear weapons are employed. Dual-capable systems therefore should not be treated as evidence that China intends earlier nuclear use. They do, however, complicate an adversary’s ability to distinguish conventional and nuclear operations.

The DF-26 provides the clearest example. The road-mobile intermediate-range ballistic missile can threaten Guam and conduct conventional land-attack, anti-ship, and nuclear missions. The U.S. Department of Defense assesses that the DF-26 was designed to allow rapid changes between conventional and nuclear warheads. Identifying a launcher, therefore, does not necessarily reveal its assigned mission. James Acton describes this as pre-launch ambiguity. An opponent may know the missile launch system while remaining uncertain whether it is configured for conventional or nuclear use.

China’s command arrangements reduce some risk but do not eliminate this ambiguity. A 2024 China Aerospace Studies Institute assessment finds that nuclear launch authority remains centralized under the Central Military Commission, while conventional PLARF forces can operate through joint campaign command structures. David Logan likewise argues that Chinese nuclear and conventional forces are less entangled than some assessments suggest, although risks remain around dual-capable systems. Organizational separation may reduce unauthorized-use risk, but it does not allow U.S. decision-makers to identify a dispersed unit’s mission with confidence.

Pathways to Inadvertent Escalation

The greatest escalation risk arises when U.S. conventional operations threaten assets that China associates with the survivability of its nuclear forces. In a

Taiwan conflict, U.S. forces could have strong incentives to strike PLARF launchers, sensors, communications systems, or command nodes supporting conventional missile attacks. Caitlin Talmadge has shown that such operations could also affect systems relevant to China’s ability to retaliate with nuclear weapons. Beijing could therefore struggle to determine whether U.S. attacks were limited conventional operations or the opening phase of a broader counterforce campaign.

China might respond by dispersing nuclear units, increasing readiness, or altering command-and-control procedures to preserve its retaliatory capability. Although Beijing could view those steps as defensive, U.S. officials might interpret the same activity as preparation for nuclear employment. Acton’s research on escalation through entanglement shows how attacks on systems supporting both nuclear and conventional missions can produce this kind of misread warning. Actions taken to preserve deterrence on one side can therefore appear threatening to the other.

The literature cautions against treating this pathway as inevitable. Wu Riqiang concludes that the overall probability of inadvertent U.S.-China nuclear escalation remains extremely low, citing the likely survivability of much of China’s nuclear force and strong controls over nuclear use. Logan similarly finds less entanglement than some earlier studies implied. These findings weaken claims that conventional conflict would naturally progress toward nuclear use, but they do not remove the narrower concern that dual-capable forces can make wartime actions harder to interpret.

The scale of that problem may grow as China expands its missile forces. The 2026 Nuclear Notebook estimates approximately 300 DF-26 launchers across eight brigades, while noting that not all are assigned nuclear missions. Henrik Staalhane Hiim, M. Taylor Fravel, and Magnus Langset Troan describe an “entangled security dilemma” in which measures to improve security taken by either China or the U.S. can increase the other side’s concern about nuclear-force survivability. Ambiguity can therefore shape broader perceptions of intent during a crisis.

Implications for Strategic Stability

U.S. planning should treat nuclear-conventional ambiguity as both a targeting and crisis-management problem. Before striking a PLARF launcher, sensor, communications system, or command node, planners should assess whether the target may also support nuclear operations and whether its destruction could be interpreted as part of a disarming campaign. This does not require excluding dual-use targets from conventional plans, but it does require weighing military value against escalation risk.

Risk reduction also requires mechanisms that can clarify intent during a crisis. Missile notifications, protected communication channels, and clearer procedures for signaling changes in nuclear readiness could reduce uncertainty without revealing sensitive operational details. China’s advance notification before its September 2024 Pacific ICBM test demonstrates that limited transparency around strategic missile activity is possible. U.S. and allied exercises should also include ambiguous PLARF movements and attacks on dual-use systems so that decision-makers confront these risks before an actual crisis.

China’s dual-capable missiles do not demonstrate that Beijing has abandoned no first use or deliberately lowered its nuclear threshold. The more important concern is that this threshold may become harder for an adversary to identify during conventional conflict. If U.S. operations threaten assets associated with China’s nuclear deterrent, defensive measures taken by either side could be interpreted as preparation for escalation. Managing that uncertainty will become increasingly important to strategic stability in the Indo-Pacific.

Peyton Mayer is a doctoral student in Business Administration at Edgewood College whose research spans finance, Chinese military strategy, and international security. He is a U.S. Army veteran with six years of military intelligence experience and a professional background in trade compliance and export control policy. His published scholarship examines PLA doctrine and Indo-Pacific security, with broader interests in economic statecraft, emerging technologies, and strategic competition. The views expressed in this article are the author’s own.

China’s Dual-Capable Missiles and Inadvertent Nuclear Escalation was originally published on Global Security Review.

The strikes at Abu al-Duhur matter less for what happened than for what they revealed. Strip away the incident report and what is left is familiar rhetoric. Two regional powers reading the same accounting and drawing opposite lessons from it.

The fall of Assad did not create a vacuum so much as reveal one that existed for years, hidden by a regime too weak to project power but too entrenched to remove. Turkey and Israel are now the two actors with both the capability and the appetite to fill the power void, and they are filling it from opposite directions with opposite security theories. Ankara’s theory is based upon proximity, allowing for influence over Damascus, embedding advisers, directing infrastructure investment, and producing a client government that owes its stability partly to Turkish backing. Israel’s theory is based upon distance, leaving an emptied buffer zone, allowing minimal contention, and the right to strike anything that threatens these. Both theories will collide somewhere in Idlib or Hama. Abu al-Duhur is just where the collision appeared.

When Intent Becomes the Threat

What is more interesting than the Abu al-Duhur strike itself is how each side communicates about it afterward because the language reveals what each government fears. Turkish officials denied the specific claim of a permanent base, while Syrian officials said they had assured Israel that no Turkish presence was planned. Both statements can be true and still miss the point because the Israeli concern (a radar, an air-defense node, or a rotational advisory presence) does not require anything as formal as a “base” to change the operating environment. In short, Israel does not need Turkey to build a garrison to lose strategic value. They only need Turkish sensors to be present in their airspace to reduce Israeli air maneuver. This presents a much lower bar than the word “base” implies, which is why the denials satisfied no one.

When Strategic Ambiguity Becomes a Trigger

The question of whether Turkey was building a pincer is also interesting. The public evidence that Turkey posed a deliberate two-front strategy against Israel is thin and treating this as evidence of one risks manufacturing a conspiracy out of two states pursuing separate, self-interested expansions that happen to be converging. The more useful approach is to question what happens structurally once any two states with unresolved historical friction start operating in the same 200-mile strip of contested territory without a shared rulebook. That is a problem independent of intent. Even if Ankara is not trying to encircle Israel and Israel is not seeking a war with a NATO-adjacent power, the lack of agreed rules leaves each side to interpret future moves through worst-case assumptions. That is what almost happened here. Turkish forces are watching unannounced Israeli jets approach their border and had to decide in real time whether they were witnessing an isolated strike or the opening move of something larger, with no immediate channel to ask.

This interpretation is the part that gets lost when the coverage focuses on “was this an imminent threat?” Whether or not the Abu al-Duhur strikes specifically mattered is only a part of what happened. The mechanism by which it almost escalated one side into acting unilaterally and the other side was forced to guess at intent is likely to recur as long as Turkey keeps deepening its role in Syria and Israel reserves the right to strike in the region, all without an agreed set of boundaries. The airbase is almost incidental. The pattern is the story.

Managing a Rivalry That Won’t Disappear

The outcome desired is not necessarily a settlement of who is “right” about Syria, as both Ankara and Jerusalem are not going to agree on what kind of country a post-Assad Syria should become, and there is no likely version where their interests fully align. Instead, what is achievable and worth pursuing is a much narrower path. They should seek a standing arrangement or a formal conflict-avoidance mechanism where neither side is forced to act on assumptions when it has no knowledge of the other’s intentions. That means real advanced notice or advanced provisions before strikes near the Turkish frontier, instead of an after-the-fact explanation. This means Turkey must be willing to declare, rather than deny, the scope of its military footprint in Syria so that ambiguity stops creating unintended outcomes. It means Damascus, the government with the least power and the most to lose from being squeezed between two much larger militaries, has some voice in such an arrangement that it is not reduced to a battleground that occurs to its detriment.

Conclusion

An arrangement as described herein does not resolve the underlying rivalry. Turkey will keep building influence in Syria because that is what a rising regional power with a long land border does. Israel will retain the right to strike because that has provided security since 1973 and they have no intention to abandon it. However, managed rivalry through a known channel provides a fundamentally different kind of danger than rivalry managed through guesswork under time pressure. The best and most realistic outcome here is not peace between Ankara and Jerusalem. Instead, it is peace by ensuring the next Abu al-Duhur results in a diplomatic phone call instead of deployed border unit deciding if it is watching the start of a war in real time and must react.

Dr. Yashwant Singh is an Indian sociologist working at the intersection of urban studies, development, nature and geopolitics. He holds an M.Phil. in Sociology from the University of Delhi and a Ph.D. from the University of Hyderabad. He has published in Across Voices, Modern Diplomacy, Geostrategic Media, South Asia Journal, World Geostrategic Insights, and IA-Forum.  The views represented in this article are the author’s own.

Turkey, Israel and the Dangerous Vacuum in Post-Assad Syria was originally published on Global Security Review.

Russia’s nuclear strategy occupies a central place in global security debates. With the world’s largest and most diverse nuclear arsenal and a leadership that frequently employs nuclear rhetoric, Russia’s approach to deterrence is both consequential and deeply rooted in its historical experience. Scholars often analyze Russian nuclear doctrine through the lens of post–Cold War geopolitics or contemporary military reforms, but such approaches overlook the deeper historical foundations of Russian strategic culture. 

For better or worse, the origins of Russian nuclear deterrence lie in the Stalinist heritage, a political and strategic worldview forged in the crucible of revolution, civil war, industrialization, and global conflict. Stalin’s rule created the institutional, psychological, and ideological foundations that shaped the Soviet nuclear program and continue to influence Russian nuclear policy today. 

Stalin’s Strategic Mindset 

Joseph Stalin’s approach to security was shaped by a profound sense of vulnerability. He believed the Soviet Union was encircled by hostile capitalist powers and that survival required absolute centralization, militarization, and coercive statecraft. This worldview justified: rapid industrialization to support military power; expansion of the security apparatus; preemptive and punitive measures against perceived enemies; and readiness to accept extreme risks. Stalin’s strategic thinking fused Marxist-Leninist ideology, personal paranoia, and geopolitical realism. 

Stalin believed that only an overwhelming force could guarantee the survival of the Soviet state. This belief drove the massive industrialization campaigns of the 1930s, which prioritized heavy industry, armaments, and military infrastructure. This logic later translated into the nuclear age: nuclear weapons became symbols of national greatness and instruments of political leverage. Stalin’s domestic use of terror—purges, show trials, mass repression—was mirrored in his foreign policy. He believed that intimidation could shape adversaries’ behavior. 

The Soviet Atomic Project: Stalinist Governance in Science 

The Soviet atomic project began during World War II, but it accelerated dramatically after the U.S. bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Stalin immediately recognized the political significance of nuclear weapons. For Stalin, nuclear weapons were not simply military tools; they were instruments of political prestige and strategic leverage. The atomic project was organized into secret research centers, such as Arzamas-16, where scientists lived under surveillance and strict information controls. This system mirrored the broader Stalinist model of compartmentalization, elite isolation, centralized oversight, and security-service dominance. 

Despite postwar devastation, Stalin prioritized the nuclear program above all other sectors. Archival evidence shows that the atomic project received unlimited access to manpower, materials and funding, even during famine conditions. 

This reflected Stalin’s belief that nuclear weapons were essential to state survival, international prestige, and strategic parity with the United States. Soviet espionage in the Manhattan Project was central to the rapid development of the Soviet bomb. Agents such as Klaus Fuchs and Theodore Hall provided critical information that accelerated Soviet progress. Stalin’s reliance on intelligence reflected his broader belief that security depended on outmaneuvering adversaries through covert means. 

When the USSR successfully tested its first atomic bomb in 1949, Stalin’s response was characteristically understated but strategically significant. He viewed the bomb not only as a weapon of war but also as a political instrument that elevated the USSR to superpower status. This symbolic dimension remains central to Russian nuclear identity. Nuclear weapons are not merely tools of deterrence; they are markers of national greatness and geopolitical relevance. 

The Evolution of Soviet and Russian Nuclear Doctrine 

Stalin’s belief in overwhelming force evolved into the Soviet commitment to massive nuclear arsenals, redundant delivery systems, and the capability for assured retaliation. By the 1970s, the USSR possessed thousands of warheads, an approach rooted in Stalinist thinking about security through quantitative superiority. Stalin’s insistence on political supremacy over the military carried into the nuclear age. The Soviet command-and-control system was designed to ensure that only the top political leadership could authorize nuclear use. Modern Russia’s “nuclear briefcase” (cheget) is a direct institutional descendant of this model. 

For Stalin, industrial and military achievements were markers of national greatness. Nuclear weapons became the ultimate symbol of superpower status. This symbolic dimension remains central to Russian identity and foreign policy, as seen in Vladimir Putin’s emphasis on “invincible” new nuclear systems. Russian leaders continue to view the world as a hostile environment in which Western powers seek to weaken or encircle Russia. This worldview, rooted in Stalin’s belief in external hostility, justifies reliance on nuclear deterrence as the ultimate guarantor of sovereignty. Russia’s willingness to threaten limited nuclear use to compel adversaries to back down reflects a Stalinist belief in the coercive power of fear. Putin’s nuclear signaling by alerting forces, showcasing new systems, and issuing veiled threats echoes Stalin’s use of intimidation as a diplomatic tool. As Leon Aron has noted: 

Russia’s resorting to a nuclear strike to terminate a conventional conflict that was not going its way became known as an “escalate to de-escalate” theory. Intended to scare the enemy and coerce armistice rather than inflict massive damage and precipitate an open-ended strategic nuclear exchange, a “de-escalation” is likely to involve low-yield tactical weapons detonated away from densely populated areas.” 

Such an approach involves deterrence as ustrashenie (a sense of intimidation or scaring) rather than deterrence as sderzhivanie (a sense of holding back or restraining). Thus, one enduring Stalinist inheritance is psychological rather than doctrinal. This aspect includes security through strength, instead of trust; fear as a legitimate instrument of statecraft; occasional acceptance of extreme risk; and ambiguity as strategy. These attitudes shape how Russian leaders interpret international crises and how they wield nuclear threats. 

Conclusion 

Russia’s nuclear deterrence strategy is not merely a product of modern geopolitics or technological capability. It is also at least partly the continuation of a Stalinist worldview that equates security with dominance, deterrence with fear, and state survival with centralized, militarized power. Understanding this heritage is essential for interpreting Russia’s behavior today—from its latent and manifest use of coercive nuclear strategy to its insistence on maintaining a vast and diverse nuclear arsenal. 

Stephen J. Cimbala is Distinguished Professor of Political Science at Penn State Brandywine and the author of numerous works on nuclear deterrence, arms control, and military strategy. He is a senior fellow at NIDS and a recent contributor to the Routledge Handbook of Soviet and Russian Military Studies edited by Dr. Alexander Hill (Routledge: 2025). The views of the author are his own. 

Russian Nuclear Deterrence and the Ghost of Stalin was originally published on Global Security Review.

There is a comforting fiction at the heart of much contemporary strategic thinking: conventional military capabilities can substitute for nuclear deterrence without requiring the same political will. It is a neat idea—reassuring, technologically optimistic, and politically convenient. It is also dangerously wrong.

Deterrence does not reside in platforms, precision, or posture. It resides in belief—specifically, the adversary’s belief that you are both capable of inflicting costs and willing to do so. Strip away that second element, and deterrence collapses into theater.

This is the central problem confronting Australia and its allies as they navigate a rapidly shifting Indo-Pacific security environment. As nuclear risks grow, particularly with China’s expanding arsenal, there has been a noticeable intellectual pivot toward elevating conventional capabilities as a more “usable,” credible, and politically palatable form of deterrence. Long-range strike, autonomous systems, undersea warfare, and advanced ISR are all presented as tools that can impose meaningful costs without crossing the nuclear threshold.

However, this argument only holds if those tools are used. Too often, the debate stops at capability acquisition. Billions are spent, platforms are announced, doctrines are drafted. Yet, there is a conspicuous silence when it comes to the harder question: under what circumstances would Australia employ these capabilities in anger? What thresholds trigger their use? What risks are we prepared to accept in doing so?

Without clear answers, the signal sent to adversaries is not strength, but hesitation. Consider the logic from the perspective of a competitor. If Australia invests heavily in long-range strike but avoids articulating when it would employ it, an adversary may conclude that those capabilities are politically constrained. If grey-zone coercion, such as the deployment of sea mines, harassment of maritime assets, or interference with undersea infrastructure, does not elicit a forceful response, then the lesson learned is not deterrence, but permissiveness.

In this sense, ambiguity is not always stabilizing. It can just as easily invite probing. The uncomfortable reality is that conventional deterrence demands a level of resolve that many policymakers are reluctant to acknowledge. Unlike nuclear weapons, whose very horror lends them a paradoxical clarity, conventional forces sit in a murkier space. They are more usable, but precisely for that reason, credibility hinges on demonstrated willingness.

A missile that will is restricted from use is not a deterrent. A submarine that will not be deployed into contested waters does not shape adversary behavior. A cyber capability that remains permanently in reserve does not impose costs. Deterrence, in the conventional domain, is performative. It must be signaled, exercised, and at times demonstrated.

This does not mean recklessness or a rush to escalation. It means recognizing that deterrence is not cost-free. If the objective is to prevent adversary action, then one must be prepared to act before the situation becomes intolerable. Waiting until costs are imposed on you, economically, militarily, or politically undermines the very logic of deterrence. This is where much of the current discourse falls short. There is a tendency to treat conventional capabilities as inherently stabilizing, as though their mere existence alters adversary calculations. But capabilities without credible intent are inert. Worse, they can create a false sense of security, masking the erosion of deterrence beneath a veneer of preparedness.

The challenge is particularly acute for middle powers like Australia, which rely heavily on alliances and extended deterrence. As questions grow around the credibility of U.S. nuclear guarantees, especially in a more contested and multipolar environment, there is an understandable desire to bolster national self-reliance through conventional means. This is a sensible objective. But it cannot be achieved through hardware alone.

If conventional forces are to serve as a substitute or even a supplement to nuclear deterrence, then they must be embedded within a clear framework of political resolve. This requires more than capability development. It requires declaratory policy, strategic signaling, and a willingness to accept escalation risks.

For example, if the laying of sea mines in Australian waters is deemed unacceptable, then that must be stated clearly and backed by a credible commitment to respond with force if necessary. Anything less invites incremental encroachment. Over time, such encroachment normalizes behaviors that would once have been considered intolerable.

History offers ample evidence of this dynamic. Deterrence erodes not in dramatic moments, but through a series of small, unchallenged actions that cumulatively shift the baseline of what is acceptable. By the time a clear red line is crossed, it is often too late as the adversary has already recalibrated expectations.

The solution is not to abandon conventional deterrence, but to take it seriously. This means confronting uncomfortable questions. Are we prepared to use long-range strike capabilities against an adversary’s military assets in the initial stages of a crisis? Would we target grey-zone actors operating below the threshold of armed conflict? How do we signal our intentions without triggering the very escalation we seek to avoid? There are no easy answers, but avoiding the questions altogether is not a strategy, it is an abdication.

Ultimately, deterrence is about shaping perceptions. It is about convincing an adversary that the costs of action will outweigh the benefits. This cannot be achieved through ambiguity alone, nor through capability acquisition in isolation. It requires a coherent integration of means, messaging, and above all else, will.

If policymakers are unwilling to countenance the use of conventional force, then they should be honest about the implications. In such a scenario, conventional capabilities do not replace nuclear deterrence; they merely decorate its absence.

The risk is not just strategic failure, but strategic surprise. An adversary that perceives a gap between capability and intent will exploit it; once that perception is formed, it is exceedingly difficult to reverse.

Deterrence, in the end, is a test of credibility and resolve. It is not measured by what you possess, but by what an adversary believes you will do. In strategic competition, credibility is not claimed; it is proven and without resolve, deterrence is nothing at all.

Natalie Treloar is the Australian Company Director of Alpha-India Consultancy, a Senior Fellow at the Indo-Pacific Studies Center (IPSC), a Senior Analyst at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies (NIDS), and a member of the Open Nuclear Network. Views expressed in this article are the author’s own.

Deterrence Without Resolve Is No Deterrence at All was originally published on Global Security Review.

Hypersonic weapons, capable of exceeding Mach 5 with unpredictable flight paths, shatter the bedrock principles of conventional missile defense. Their ability to glide and maneuver within the atmosphere allows them to evade radar detection and interceptor systems, compressing warning times to mere minutes. This drastic reduction in reaction time amplifies the risk of miscalculations and accidental escalation, particularly in moments of crisis.

The global balance of power is being fundamentally altered, not merely adjusted, by the aggressive pursuit of maneuverable hypersonic weapon capabilities. China’s DF-17 hypersonic missile, coupled with its reported testing of a fractional orbital bombardment system (FOBS) with a hypersonic payload, demonstrates a clear intent to achieve global strike capabilities with minimal warning. Russia’s deployment of the Avangard HGV on its SS-19 intercontinental ballistic missiles and the operational status of the Zircon hypersonic anti-ship missile further highlight the growing proliferation of these advanced weapons. North Korea’s claim of successful hypersonic missile tests, while requiring verification, signal a potential integration of these weapons into its theater nuclear strategy, adding another layer of complexity to regional security.

The inherent capacity of maneuverable hypersonic weapons to render existing missile defense systems obsolete signifies not just a technological leap, but a deliberate dismantling of established strategic certainties. The unpredictability of their flight paths and the compression of warning times do not just complicate defense planning; they erode the very foundation of strategic stability, where deterrence relies on the certainty of retaliation. The potential for these weapons to carry both conventional and nuclear payloads does not just increase their versatility; it blurs the lines between conventional and nuclear conflict, creating a perilous ambiguity that heightens the risk of miscalculation.

The ability to strike targets with minimal warning does not just enhance offensive capabilities; it creates a coercive tool, enabling states to exert pressure and achieve strategic objectives without resorting to large-scale conventional warfare. The potential for hypersonic weapons to be deployed in a first-strike role does not just raise concerns about escalation; it fundamentally alters the calculus of deterrence, where the threat of retaliation may no longer be sufficient to prevent aggression.

To counter this burgeoning vulnerability, the United States must not merely react, but fundamentally redefine its strategic posture, acknowledging that piecemeal technological solutions are insufficient to address the profound shift hypersonic weapons impose on the security landscape. The rapid development of the glide phase interceptor (GPI) and space-based tracking systems is not just about enhancing missile defense; it is about restoring a sense of strategic stability, reassuring allies and deterring potential adversaries. The expansion of conventional hypersonic programs, such as the AGM-183 ARRW, conventional prompt strike, and the long-range hypersonic weapon, is not just about developing counterforce capabilities; it is about demonstrating a commitment to maintaining a credible deterrent, signaling to potential adversaries that aggression will be met with a swift and decisive response. The integration of hypersonic weapons into existing military doctrines does not just require tactical adjustments; it demands a fundamental reevaluation of strategic thinking, adapting to a new era of high-speed warfare.

The international community’s response to hypersonic weapons must not be limited to national defense initiatives; it must include a concerted effort to promote arms control and transparency. The absence of clear international norms and regulations regarding hypersonic weapons does not just create uncertainty; it fosters a climate of strategic competition, where states are incentivized to develop and deploy these weapons without restraint. The development of transparency and confidence-building measures is not just about reducing the risk of miscalculation; it is about building a foundation for strategic stability, where states can engage in dialogue and cooperation to mitigate the risks posed by these advanced weapons.

Hypersonic weapons represent a paradigm shift in military technology, fundamentally questioning if the world is entering a new era of vulnerability, undermining the foundations of traditional missile defense and reshaping the strategic landscape. Addressing this challenge requires a comprehensive approach that combines technological innovation, strategic adaptation, and international cooperation. Only through a concerted effort can the international community hope to mitigate the risks posed by hypersonic weapons and ensure a more stable and secure future.

Brandon Toliver, PhD, serves on the A4 staff of Headquarters Air Force. The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official guidance or position of the United States government, the Department of Defense, the United States Air Force, or the United States Space Force.

Hypersonic Weapons: Are We Entering a New Era of Vulnerability? was originally published on Global Security Review.