Limited nuclear use is no longer unthinkable Analysing the collapse of taboos

The War on the Rocks essay argues something many European strategists are beginning to think but rarely say aloud: nuclear weapons are quietly regaining political utility. Moscow’s January 9, 2026, “Oreshnik” strike is framed not as battlefield escalation but as calibrated strategic signalling — a move designed to define NATO’s red lines rather than cross them. This is a sober and unsettling thesis, and the article’s strength lies in how it strips away comforting Western assumptions about deterrence stability.

At the core of the argument is a rejection of two long-standing myths. First, that any nuclear use automatically equals apocalypse. Second, that nuclear weapons are only useful as city-destroying instruments of last resort. Drawing on RAND Europe’s 2025 scenario work, the article persuasively shows how uncertainty itself has become a weapon. If ecological catastrophe is not guaranteed — if outcomes depend on variables like soot load, plume rise, and persistence — then risk-tolerant actors may see room for coercive “limited” use. Deterrence, in this view, no longer rests on fear alone, but on asymmetric risk acceptance.

Where the article becomes most provocative is in its treatment of extended deterrence. Rather than merely “weakened,” the U.S. nuclear umbrella over Europe is described as functionally hollow. This is not framed as a moral failure, but as a structural one. Nuclear credibility depends on posture, planning, and prioritisation — none of which can be improvised during a crisis. The 2025 U.S. National Security Strategy’s emphasis on homeland defence and the Indo-Pacific is cited as evidence that Europe is no longer the central theatre of American existential risk. Even if U.S. forces remain for now, the article warns against mistaking inertia for commitment.

The Nordic focus gives the piece its sharpest edge. The author argues that Europe’s nuclear gap is not about numbers but granularity. Russia’s advantage lies in its diverse non-strategic arsenal — the “small chips” that allow escalation control. Britain and France, by contrast, face an all-or-nothing dilemma. This imbalance, the article suggests, leaves Nordic countries exposed to precisely the kind of coercive nuclear signalling Moscow is refining.

The proposal of a Nordic nuclear hedge is deliberately unsettling. It is presented not as a call to arms, but as a logical response to a deteriorating strategic environment. Importantly, the article does not dismiss moral objections; instead, it reframes them. Long-standing Nordic anti-nuclear norms are described as sliding from moral strength into moral escapism — a refusal to grapple with the consequences of vulnerability. By invoking Article X of the Non-Proliferation Treaty, the author grounds this argument in law rather than provocation.

Perhaps the most original contribution is the discussion of command and control. The rotating Nordic launch authority is less a technical blueprint than a philosophical one: an attempt to reconcile democratic restraint with deterrent credibility. Whether such a system would enhance stability or invite miscalculation is debatable — but War on the Rocks excels precisely when it forces readers into uncomfortable intellectual terrain.

Ultimately, the article’s message is not that nuclear proliferation is desirable, but that pretending nuclear weapons have lost relevance is dangerous. The West, it argues, must relearn an old truth: peace rests not on virtue alone, but on power — and power, in extremis, remains nuclear.

By Vugar Khalilov