By Zhou Bo
Zhou Bo is a senior fellow at the Center for International Security and Strategy at Tsinghua University and a retired senior colonel in the Chinese People’s Liberation Army.
August 21, 2024
Since the end of the Cold War, the role of nuclear weapons has only grown. Nuclear arsenals are being strengthened around the world, with many nuclear states continuing to modernize their arsenals. In June, outgoing NATO Secretary-General Jens Stoltenberg said that the alliance was in talks to deploy more nuclear weapons, taking them out of storage and placing them on standby. Robert C. O’Brien, a former national security advisor to former U.S. President Donald Trump, has urged him to conduct nuclear tests if he wins a new term, arguing that it would help the United States “maintain technical and numerical superiority to the combined Chinese and Russian nuclear stockpiles.”
There are two bleak conclusions about nuclear diplomacy in this age. First, it will be impossible to ban such weapons anytime soon. Since its passage in 2017, no nuclear-armed states have signed the United Nations Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, some of them instead contending that it will distract attention from other disarmament and nonproliferation initiatives.
It is also very hard, if not impossible, to convince these states to reduce their nuclear stockpiles amid ever-intensifying geopolitical and military competition. On the contrary, in February 2023, Russia announced that it was suspending its participation in the 2010 Treaty on Measures for the Further Reduction and Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms (New START)—the last remaining nuclear arms control treaty limiting Russian and U.S. strategic nuclear forces.
In response, the United States has also suspended the sharing and publication of treaty data. In November, Russia went a step further and withdrew its ratification of the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty (CTBT), citing “‘an imbalance’” with the United States, which has failed to ratify the treaty since it opened for signature in 1996.
Amid such a situation, it is impossible for Beijing to stand by idly. The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute estimates that the size of China’s nuclear arsenal has increased from 410 warheads in January 2023 to 500 in January 2024, and it is expected to continue to grow. For the first time, China may also now be deploying a small number of warheads on missiles during peacetime. According to the U.S. Defense Department, China is likely to increase its nuclear warheads to 1,500 by 2035.
Given this reality, perhaps the most promising near-term way to guard against nuclear risks is not by limiting the number of nuclear weapons but by controlling the policies that govern their use. In this regard, a pledge by nuclear-armed states of “no first use” of nuclear weapons looks to be the most realistic approach in reducing the escalation of nuclear threats.
In theory, no first use refers to a policy by which a nuclear-armed power formally refrains from the use of nuclear weapons or other weapons of mass destruction in warfare, except in the case of doing so as a second strike in retaliation to an attack by an enemy power using a weapon of mass destruction.
Of the five nuclear states that have signed onto the Treaty on the Nonproliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT)—China, France, Russia, the United Kingdom, and the United States—only China has ever declared a no-first-use policy. On Oct. 16, 1964, when China successfully detonated its first atomic bomb, the country immediately declared that it would not be the first to use nuclear weapons at any time and under any circumstances, and unconditionally committed itself not to use or threaten to use nuclear weapons against nonnuclear states or in nuclear-weapon-free zones.
India, which is not a party to the NPT, made a similar pledge in 1998, but stipulated that the promise extended only to states that did not have nuclear weapons and were not aligned with a nuclear-armed state.
American scholars, however, have long doubted the validity of China’s pledge and debated whether Beijing might use or threaten to use nuclear weapons in a worst-case scenario, such as during a conflict over Taiwan. Some observers in the United States believe that if China’s leaders decide to attack Taiwan, there is nothing that anyone can do to change their minds if conventional means fail to achieve success.
Such arguments are not really tenable. An ever-stronger China is now in a better position to honor its decades-old policy than ever before. Although China has not ruled out the possibility of using nonpeaceful means for what it refers to “reunification” in specific circumstances, Beijing has never mentioned use of nuclear weapons against the people of Taiwan, whom the mainland refers to as “compatriots.” In semiofficial nuclear arms talks held in Shanghai in March, the Chinese delegation told the U.S. side that they were absolutely convinced that China would be able to prevail in a conventional fight over Taiwan without using nuclear weapons.
All nuclear powers could afford to adopt a formal no-first-use policy—taking the moral high ground without reducing their capabilities for retaliation.
Though it has never adopted a no-first-use policy itself, the United States’ nuclear posture is actually more similar to China’s than it seems. In its 2022 Nuclear Posture Review, the Biden administration declared that it would only consider the use of nuclear weapons “in extreme circumstances to defend the vital interests of the United States or its allies and partners.” But it is hard to imagine which interests are so vital that they might require Washington to use nuclear weapons as a first measure to defend them.
To be sure, it is important for the United States to assure its allies that it will follow through on its deterrent promises. It is equally hard to imagine who would venture to launch a nuclear strike on a U.S. ally, knowing the dire potential consequences.
The United Kingdom’s nuclear deterrent, meanwhile, is operationally independent. But in terms of its nuclear policy, the British government has made it clear that “we would consider using our nuclear weapons only in extreme circumstances of self-defence, including the defence of our NATO allies.” France, meanwhile adheres to a principle of “strict sufficiency.”
The real challenge, then, is getting Russia to commit to a no-first-use policy. The Soviet Union adopted a formal policy of no first use in 1982. But after its dissolution, the Russian Federation reversed this approach in 1993, likely to mitigate the comparative weakness of the Russian Armed Forces in the post-Soviet era.
In Article 4 of an executive order on nuclear deterrence published in 2020, Russian President Vladimir Putin declared that “in the event of a military conflict, this Policy provides for the prevention of an escalation of military actions and their termination on conditions that are acceptable for the Russian Federation and/or its allies.” This has been interpreted by some international nuclear observers as describing nonnuclear scenarios in which Russia might use such weapons.
From the start of the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, there has been a concern that Russia might explode a tactical nuclear bomb somewhere to send a warning to Ukraine and NATO. Although Putin has never explicitly threatened the use of nuclear weapons, he has repeatedly hinted at Russia’s willingness to use them and said at the May 9 Victory Day parade in Moscow that “our strategic forces are always in a state of combat readiness.” And in May, Russia carried out tactical nuclear weapon drills close to the Ukrainian border.
This strategy has been dubbed “escalate to de-escalate” by some observers, which indicates early escalations, such as threats to use nuclear weapons (even in a limited fashion), followed by demands for immediate war termination. The goal of such a strategy is not to completely disable or defeat the enemy, but rather to compel the adversary to decide to quickly end the conflict on terms set by the escalating state.
Like it or not, Russia’s escalate to de-escalate strategy has partially worked in the war in Ukraine, limiting NATO’s direct involvement and prompting the United States to put limits on what Ukraine can do with the weapons that it supplies.
So why should Russia consider adopting a no-first-use policy instead?
The escalate to de-escalate method depends on fear and bluffing. If a nuclear-armed state really launches an attack against another nuclear power, it cannot control the scale of the retaliation by its adversaries. A tit for tat risks becoming a full-blown nuclear war that no one wants. Russia has effectively limited itself in Ukraine when it comes to nuclear weapons exactly because their usage would likely prompt the very thing that Moscow fears most—NATO involvement.
The actual usage of a tactical nuclear bomb could prompt that involvement. So—to avoid mutual destruction—Moscow has to make its utmost effort to deter NATO from joining the war.
A dual-track approach may be the best bet for the adoption of a formal no-first-use policy.
In Europe, NATO can start with a unilateral no-first-use pledge against Russia as a gesture of goodwill. Even if such an offer isn’t immediately reciprocated by Russia, it might begin to thaw tensions.
As a second—and crucial—step, NATO could pledge to halt any further expansion of its alliance in exchange for Moscow adopting a no-first-use policy This would be a difficult pill for the alliance to swallow. But after Sweden’s and Finland’s entry earlier this year, there are only three aspiring countries on the waiting list: the barely significant Bosnia and Herzegovina as well as Georgia and Ukraine, which have deeply problematic ongoing conflicts with Russia that NATO is sensitive about.
The path forward would likely be smoother if it went through Asia. Both Russia and China have already agreed to no first use against each other. China and the United States could reach a similar agreement, thus de-escalating potential conflicts involving U.S. allies—such as the Philippines and Japan—as well as the dangers that could be provoked through accidental collisions in the sea or air. A U.S.-led example might then make it easier to bring the Europeans on board.
This may seem far-fetched in the current geopolitical climate, but there is precedent for it. When India and Pakistan tested nuclear devices in May 1998, they incurred swift condemnation from the U.N. Security Council, which called for both countries to sign both the NPT and the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. In a rare show of solidarity, China and the United States made a joint declaration in June 1998 agreeing to de-target their nuclear weapons against each other.
This was largely a symbolic and unverifiable step. But it was not only a defusing of tensions, but also good to see nuclear states at least partially honoring the vision of nuclear disarmament laid out in Article VI of the NPT. And this China-U.S. joint statement eventually led to another joint statement among the five nuclear-armed permanent Security Council states in May 2000, which affirmed that their nuclear weapons are not targeted at each other or at any other states.
No first use is a big step forward from nontargeting. It’s not out of bounds to imagine that, with enough diplomatic capital, a similar but more important pledge of no first use could be made today. In fact, in January 2022—only a month before Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—these five nuclear powers agreed in a joint statement that “a nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought.”
What is more significant is that during Chinese President Xi Jinping’s visit to Moscow last year, China and Russia reiterated this commitment, even amid Russia’s ongoing war.
If, indeed, a nuclear war cannot be won, then what is stopping these nuclear powers from taking a no-first-use pledge? Nuclear weapons didn’t help the United States in its wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan—or the Russians in Ukraine. A commitment of no first use by the nuclear-armed states would give people hope that a nuclear-free world, however distant, is still possible one day.