Russia, which fields an arsenal of at least 2,000 such nuclear weapons, began modernizing its arsenal of intra-theater nuclear weapons more than a decade ago. These weapons can rapidly strike European NATO member-states—primarily with lower yield warheads.

Russia’s “escalate to deescalate” strategy relies on the use of low-yield battlefield nuclear weapons could either be used to defeat Ukraine and force NATO capitulation in that conflict or win a possible war against a conventional NATO force advancing East. In short, Russia could seek a fait accompli using one or a small number of low-yield nuclear weapons in a limited capacity on the battlefield, for which NATO has no equal response.

What makes such an approach highly attractive to Russia is that NATO is unlikely to respond to a nuclear use in Ukraine or an attack on NATO’s eastern flank with nuclear weapons, because NATO’s dual-cable aircraft—fighter jets armed with B-61 nuclear gravity bombs—are not a combat-ready force that can effectively counter Russian nuclear use on a battlefield. Let me reiterate, Russia likely maintains 3,000–6,000 intra-theater nuclear weapons that vary from low to high yield and short to intermediate range. Low estimates suggest they have 2,000 such weapons.

A 2017 Defense Intelligence Agency report went deeper into Russia’s tactical nuclear warfare commitment revealing delivery systems that include air-to-surface missiles, short-range ballistic missiles, gravity bombs, depth charges for medium-range bombers, tactical bombers, and naval aviation, as well as anti-ship, anti-submarine, and anti-aircraft missiles and torpedoes for surface ships and submarines. While it is only speculation, it is reasonable to suggest that Russian President Vladimir Putin was building a nuclear capability for a circumstance like he finds himself in now.

As two and a half years of war in Ukraine illustrate, Russia does not maintain a conventional force sufficient to defeat an American-led NATO force. This leaves Putin more reliant on his nuclear forces.

Given Russia’s economic and strategic limitations, it should come as no surprise that Russia has pursued low-yield battlefield nuclear weapons as an asymmetric advantage against the United States. In many respects, Russia is pursuing a course of action not dissimilar from the New Look Policy of the Eisenhower administration.

For the Biden administration and, soon, either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump, the real threat of nuclear weapons use in Ukraine or against NATO cannot be ignored. Contrary to the mantra that all nuclear weapons are strategic and there is no such thing as a winnable nuclear war, the Russians and Chinese see things differently.

Low-yield battlefield nuclear weapons do not create a nuclear wasteland. In fact, an air burst at the right height of burst produces no fall-out at all—only heat, a blast wave, and prompt radiation that dissipate in hundreds or a few thousand yards.

With numerous low-yield nuclear options available to Russia, there is a very real need for the United States military to retrain for operating in a post–nuclear detonation environment. In a recent public discussion, the heads of the Central Intelligence Agency and the United Kingdom’s MI6 revealed that Putin came very close to using a nuclear weapon in Ukraine during the fall of 2022. Such a scenario can easily arise again.

American mirror imaging of Russian perspectives on nuclear use, to suggest they think like Americans and would therefore never violate the “nuclear taboo”, is a recipe for getting caught unprepared. While Russians do see nuclear weapons as different than conventional weapons, they do understand weapons effects and are not given to the hyperbole that is widespread in the United States.

The fact that American integrated deterrence was a disastrous failure in its attempt to forestall a Russian invasion of Ukraine and is failing to restore deterrence with Russia vis-à-vis Ukraine means that the Russians now understand that American sanctions and other threats are largely harmless. Since the implementation of sanctions following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Putin found alternative outlets for Russian exports (petroleum) and found alternate sources of imports—including military supplies.

Rather than breaking Russia, American action drove China, Iran, North Korea, and Russia together. This leaves Putin less reluctant to use nuclear weapons in Ukraine than he perhaps was before.

Of course, neither China nor Russia is seeking to start a nuclear conflict that sees the exchange of strategic nuclear weapons. That would be devastating for everyone. But the use of a small number of low-yield battlefield nuclear weapons is a different story.

Even a reluctant Biden administration, now that it is coming to an end, tossed the disarmament community’s ostrich strategy into the dustheap of history. It is now a matter of whether the United States has the will to embark on the expansive modernization effort required to fill the gap in battlefield nuclear weapons.

Adam Lowther, PhD is the Vice President for Research at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies. The views expressed are his own.

The Return of Battlefield Nuclear Weapons was originally published on Global Security Review.

This year, outbreaks of antisemitism across American college campuses, including at the most elite private colleges and universities, remind commentators of the turbulent year 1968. That year was marked by the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Robert F. Kennedy, together with antiwar demonstrations at many colleges and riots at the Democrat National Convention in Chicago.

Some saw, in the upsurge of pro-Palestinian and anti-Israeli demonstrations a possible prelude to a similar upheaval at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in August 2024. The Biden administration was under attack from its progressive wing and for its support of Israel in its war against Hamas in Gaza.

Democrat doubters about the administration’s foreign policy were already worried about the polls showing Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump competitive against Vice President Kamala Harris in the seven key swing states of Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. And irony of ironies, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., was running as a third-party candidate who might conceivably take away votes from either Biden or Trump—eventually withdrawing and throwing his support to Trump.

In 1968, Democrat dissidents and message malaise opened the door for Richard Nixon to come back from the graveyard of politics and win the White House. Would the Democrat Party recreate that debacle in 2024 and usher Donald Trump into the presidency for a second term?

Unfortunately for political prognosticators, 2024 is only superficially reminiscent of 1968. Pro-Hamas demonstrations on college campuses are not catching fire with the public as did antiwar protests in 1968. To the contrary, college presidents are under siege from various quarters for not doing enough to resist outbreaks of antisemitism and pro-Hamas demonstrations.

Jewish students feel unsafe on many college campuses, and parents of college students began to file lawsuits against schools that refuse to enact policies that protect Jewish students against harassment. In addition, a majority of American voters support Biden’s policy of favoring Israel’s right to defend itself against attack, while sharing some reservations about Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s approach to the war in Gaza. Not every criticism of Israel’s policy is antisemitism. As Israel moves toward the final stages of its campaign against Hamas, controversy will almost certainly surround its choice of military tactics and the costs of war for civilian noncombatants.

Given current events, the foreign policy center of gravity for the 2024 presidential campaign is not only the war in the Middle East, but also the war in Ukraine. The most recent tranche of American military assistance to Ukraine was held up in Congress by endless delays based on a variety of complaints from conservatives in the House. Speaker of the House of Representatives, Mike Johnson, ended this deadlock by agreeing with a majority of Democrats to pass legislation providing aid to Israel, Taiwan, and Ukraine in separate bills.

For his anti-isolationist temerity, Johnson was threatened by his House Republican colleagues with a vote to vacate the speakership as soon as practicable. Some House Republicans gave as their reason for opposing Johnson the absence of a companion bill providing additional funding for controlling the southern border. However, the problem at the border is not a lack of funding, but a fundamental policy disagreement between the Biden administration and its critics about whether to enforce existing immigration law and or allow the near-free flow of illegal aliens to enter the country.

The war in Ukraine, on the other hand, is a fundamental test of American resolve to defend the international order based on rules and expectations that preserved security and freedom in Europe from the end of World War II until well into the twenty-first century. Vladimir Putin’s war against Ukraine is an overt attempt to overthrow a legitimate government in Europe, based on reading history through a glass darkly and on ambition to restore Russian greatness as seen by its clique of siloviki, oligarchs, and propagandists.

Apologists for Russia attribute its belligerence to the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s (NATO) post–Cold War expansion, the United States’ drive for unipolar dominance, and Ukraine’s illegitimacy as a unique culture and civilization. None of this may be true or original on the part of Russia. It is Aleksandr Dugin marinated in twenty-first century Moscow-centric geopolitics.

The tragedy is that Russia is a great civilization, with a history and culture that provided some of the world’s great literature, music, art, higher education, and excellence in professional military studies. Russia’s history is the story of an advanced civilization ruined by a succession of retro autocratic governments.

NATO has admirably rallied in the face of Russian military aggression by providing Ukraine with necessary military assistance, including weapons, intelligence, and training. But NATO has dragged this out to an extent that jeopardizes Ukraine’s ability to fight successfully even on the defensive, let alone on offense, for anything more ambitious than a military stalemate. Russia still hopes that an offensive before winter might turn the tide decisively against Ukraine—to the extent that the latter would have an insubstantial position for any post-conflict peace agreement.

Disparities between Russian and Ukrainian personnel- and military-related resources favor Russia as the war becomes more extended in time and space. Ukraine can only be saved by American and NATO firmness in the face of repeated threats of horizontal (extending military operations into NATO territory) or vertical (nuclear weapons) escalation. NATO’s combined gross domestic product is about thirty times that of Russia, but Russia has a far larger nuclear arsenal. Such problems all await the next president.

Therefore, the proper analogy is not between 2024 and 1968, but 2024 and 1938. Before the end of 1938, Germany had already crossed several red lines that anticipated an unlimited appetite for political coercion supported by the threat of military conquest. Then, as now, isolationists in the US and apologists for Hitler in Europe called for conciliation of Germany and appeasement of its demands. History never repeats itself exactly, as the saying goes, but it does rhyme.

The question for the United States and democratic Europe, now, as then, is not whether to resist aggression, but how and when. History suggests that tyrants’ appetite grows with the eating. The United States needs neither a return to its “unipolar moment” nor a willy-nilly reboot into forever wars among non-Western cultures. It does need to lead NATO’s resistance to Russia’s mistaken revanchism in Europe with smart strategy and politics until the climate improves for a viable peace settlement.

With regard to wars in the Middle East, the United States and its allies must also confront the foreboding reality of Iran’s wars against Israel, the United States, and the international order.

Iran’s instigation of Hamas’ attack against Israel on October 7, 2023, together with its support for proxy attacks on Israel and American troops elsewhere (Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and Iranian-supported terrorists in Iraq and Syria) has thus far met with less than intimidating responses. In addition to these failures in US and allied conventional deterrence, Iran is now a threshold nuclear weapons state potentially capable of threatening its immediate neighbors and targets outside the region.

An Iranian bomb could also stimulate Saudi Arabia and other Middle East powers to follow suit and destabilize the region. In addition, a nuclear Iran might pass nuclear materials and know-how to proxies for the construction of so-called dirty bombs or suitcase nukes. A nuclear Iran can destabilize the Middle East without firing a nuclear weapon.

Tehran can use the bomb for coercive diplomacy against Israel and other enemies, including threats of nuclear first use in response to any losses in a conventional war. In this respect, as well, 2024 may resemble 1938. Imagine Hitler with the bomb in 1938. A strategy of appeasement would have been far more appealing to political leaders in Britain and France, and a posture of isolationism to Americans—compared to what actually happened. Iran must be stopped by political negotiation or other means before it crosses this Rubicon.

Whether the world’s worst fears are recognized in the years ahead, as they were in and after 1938, or whether conflict is avoided will likely result, in large part, from the actions of the next president. This is a daunting future for either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump.

Stephen Cimbala, PhD is a distinguished professor at Pennsylvania State University—Brandywine and a Senior Fellow at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies. Views expressed are the authors own.  

It’s 1938, not 1968 was originally published on Global Security Review.