64 thousand military personnel in nuclear exercises of Russia and Belarus demonstrate the limits of deterrence 2026

64 thousand servicemen, over 200 launchers, 140 aircraft, 73 surface ships, and 13 submarines — these figures look like a demonstration of power, but in reality, they show something else: Moscow is forced to transition nuclear deterrence from a rare strategic ritual to an almost operational tool of political communication. The three-day exercises from May 19 to 21 took place not in the usual October framework of "Thunder," but immediately after a series of Ukrainian long-range strikes on Russian territory and against the backdrop of the Belarusian stage of training with so-called special munitions. This does not mean that the Kremlin is preparing to use nuclear weapons tomorrow. It means that the Russian deterrent system is increasingly being used to compensate for vulnerabilities that conventional armed forces can no longer conceal.

What exactly were Moscow and Minsk practicing

According to the Russian Ministry of Defense, the exercises were dedicated to the preparation and use of nuclear forces in the event of an aggression threat; they involved the Strategic Missile Forces, the Northern and Pacific Fleets, long-range aviation, and units from the Leningrad and Central Military Districts (TASS, May 19, 2026). At the concluding stage, launches of intercontinental missiles "Yars" and "Sineva," as well as the naval missile "Zircon" and the aviation "Dagger," were announced (AP, May 21, 2026). The Belarusian element was no less strategically important: Minsk reported on the training of missile units and aviation for the receipt, transfer, and preparation for the use of Russian nuclear munitions. Reuters specifically emphasized that the Russian side announced the delivery of nuclear munitions to field storage sites in Belarus and the training of "Iskander-M" crews for loading special munitions onto launch vehicles.

Formally, all this fits into the Russian doctrine: nuclear weapons remain a last resort, and Vladimir Putin, during a video call with Alexander Lukashenko, reiterated this formula. But military doctrine lives not only in documents. It lives in the order of conducting exercises, in the choice of timing, and in which elements are brought into the public space. The Soviet school of deterrence, with all its rigid features, usually tried to separate the strategic signal from daily frontline nervousness. The Russian practice of 2026 does the opposite: the nuclear signal is integrated into the news cycle of war, alongside reports of drones over Moscow, damaged oil facilities, and alarms in the Baltic direction.

Belarus has become not a warehouse, but part of the pressure mechanism

The main change in recent years is not the mere fact of deploying Russian tactical nuclear weapons in Belarus — this was announced by Moscow back in 2023 — but the transformation of Belarusian territory into a training contour for application. If the "Iskander-M" crews are practicing the receipt of munitions, covert deployment, and launch preparation, then Belarus ceases to be just a political hostage of the Russian alliance. It becomes a participant in the procedure, albeit with Russian control over the munitions. For NATO, this is concerning not because Minsk suddenly received an independent nuclear button. The concern is different: the warning time for Poland, Lithuania, and Latvia is reduced, and a conventional crisis at the border can be more quickly transitioned into a mode of nuclear blackmail.

The deployment in Belarus of the declared "Oreshnik" complex enhances this effect. Russian propaganda describes it as an almost invulnerable intermediate-range system, although the actual combat value of such systems depends not on the advertised speed of the warheads but on target reconnaissance, command resilience, and the ability to withstand a retaliatory strike. Here we see an old ailment of Russian military thought: a technical novelty is presented as a solution to a political problem. In the 1980s, the USSR already went through the logic of intermediate-range missiles in Europe. It ended then with the INF Treaty and a huge diplomatic price. Now Russia is returning to a similar tool, but under worse conditions: the economy is already mobilized by war, the industry is overloaded, and there is almost no trust in any arms control channels left.

Nuclear rhetoric masks problems of conventional war

The timing of the exercises cannot be separated from the operational situation. A few days before them, Ukraine conducted one of the largest drone strikes on Russian regions, including the Moscow region; Russian authorities reported casualties and damage to civilian and industrial infrastructure. The day after the start of the Belarusian stage, Russia launched its own massive air campaign against Ukraine: Kyiv reported 524 strike drones and 22 ballistic and cruise missiles across eight regions (AP, May 18, 2026). In this mirror, it is evident that both sides have expanded the range of war, but only Russia is trying to impose a nuclear framework on this process.

The reason is simple and unpleasant for Moscow. The Russian air defense cannot reliably protect even the capital region from cheap Ukrainian drones, and the Black Sea and Baltic oil infrastructure has found itself in a zone of systematic risk. This is not a state defeat, but it is a defeat of the previous security geography. When strategic depth ceases to be depth, the Kremlin is forced to prove that it still has the last floor of escalation. Hence the public footage of missile transporters, submarines, bombers, and Belarusian crews. From a military point of view, they confirm the readiness of procedures. From a political perspective, they tell Western capitals: do not expand assistance to Ukraine, because Russia is ready to raise the stakes.

The paradox is that the more frequently the nuclear signal is used, the faster it loses part of its intimidating power. Deterrence loves silence; propaganda loves daily broadcasts.

The risk is not in an immediate strike, but in the normalization of a dangerous procedure

The likelihood of a deliberate Russian nuclear strike against Ukraine or NATO in the near future remains low: the price of a retaliatory reaction, diplomatic isolation, and internal uncertainty would be enormous. But low probability does not equal low risk. The risk accumulates in procedures. If Belarusian units regularly train with Russian special munitions, if "Iskander-M" with a nuclear role becomes a familiar element of crisis maneuvers, if Moscow links Ukrainian drone strikes with threats to NATO countries, then the threshold for political panic decreases. In a crisis, 72 hours may prove more important than any beautiful doctrinal formula.

For NATO, the rational response is not in symmetrical hysteria, but in boring military work: reconnaissance monitoring of Belarusian storage sites, strengthening missile defense and anti-drone defense on the eastern flank, clear channels of warning to Moscow and Minsk, as well as continuing support for Ukraine without public play in nuclear duels. Russia is trying to present nuclear integration with Belarus as proof of control over escalation. In reality, it is a sign that conventional war has gone beyond the limits that the Russian command considered manageable.

My forecast with a caveat is as follows: in 2026, Moscow will continue to increase the frequency of nuclear demonstrations, especially after Ukrainian strikes on Russian territory and before major diplomatic episodes. But the more the nuclear tool is used as a political crutch for conventional war, the more its reverse side becomes noticeable — not strength, but the nervousness of a system that is no longer confident that it can hold the opponent with conventional means alone.