For over three years, Russian President Vladimir Putin has consistently used the threat of nuclear warfare as a tool to counteract Western support for Ukraine. Whenever faced with setbacks on the battlefield, he would issue dire warnings about crossing “red lines” that could lead to World War III.
This approach seemed effective. The Biden administration, for instance, has been notably careful with its military aid, largely due to concerns about provoking Putin.
However, things appear to be shifting. The nuclear threats that initially seemed to pressure Trump have not only failed to intimidate him, but they also seem to have backfired on the Kremlin. We might just be witnessing the decline of Putin’s nuclear rhetoric.
This pattern emerged clearly in 2022. That autumn, as Ukrainian forces achieved significant victories in Kharkiv and Kherson, Moscow’s nuclear saber-rattling was alarming enough that CIA Director Bill Burns later described it as a clear sign of escalating tension. The threat of using tactical nuclear weapons created real concern among Western leaders every time advanced military support for Ukraine was discussed.
Initially, Trump seemed to fall prey to the same trap. For nine months, he engaged in peace talks, reportedly convinced that Russia would inevitably emerge victorious. At one point, Vice President J.D. Vance specifically cautioned against the dangers of igniting World War III. Trump was slow to impose significant sanctions, operating under the belief that restraint could lead to peace.
But by October, that illusion began to crumble. After a phone call with Putin, Trump announced plans for a summit in Budapest aimed at reconciliation. But shortly after, he reversed course when Russia’s Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov issued strong demands to Secretary of State Marco Rubio, leading Trump to impose his first major sanctions targeting major Russian oil companies.
In response, Russia seemed to shift its strategy dramatically, and arguably out of desperation. Conventional diplomacy had stalled, so Moscow turned again to nuclear rhetoric, but in a strangely convoluted way.
Putin first showcased a nuclear-powered cruise missile called the Burevestnik, announced during his October 26-27 speech. Then, in a bizarre move, he sent economic envoy Kirill Dmitriev to Washington, highlighting what he called a “unique weapon.” Dmitriev even courted attention by bringing chocolates emblazoned with Putin’s notable quotes.
What was the reaction? Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent openly mocked this gesture, describing Dmitriev as a “Russian propagandist” on CBS News. When a member of the U.S. cabinet publicly ridicules a Russian envoy, the psychological warfare shifts dramatically in favor of the U.S.
Western analysts were skeptical too. The Burevestnik, after all, is subsonic and has had several technical issues. Trump bluntly remarked, “They know we have the world’s largest nuclear submarine just off their coast,” emphasizing America’s operational capabilities close to Russia’s border. Given these realities, developing such systems seemed illogical.
As if to escalate matters, on October 29, Putin announced the launch of the Poseidon torpedo, claimed to threaten American coastal cities with a massive radioactive tsunami. However, technical experts have dismissed this idea as unfeasible. Generating a gigantic, concentrated wave as Russia suggested would require conditions and energy outputs that nuclear technology cannot feasibly replicate.
Things unraveled further as Trump misunderstood what Russia was testing; rather than nuclear warfare capabilities, the Poseidon and Burevestnik utilized nuclear engines instead. On October 30, Trump declared that he would instruct the Pentagon to resume nuclear tests, a practice not seen since 1992.
The Kremlin’s strategy misfired. A spokesperson clarified hastily that Russia was not testing a warhead but an engine, implicitly admitting that their tough rhetoric prompted an unexpected backlash. What was once a tool of intimidation to halt Western actions has now sparked the very escalation it sought to avoid.
This isn’t just a one-off incident. Russia’s grand claims about advanced weaponry often fizzle. For instance, the T-14 Armata tank, introduced in 2015, was supposed to have 2,300 units produced, but fewer than 20 were made, and none saw action in Ukraine despite Russia losing thousands of tanks. The RS-28 Sarmat “Satan II” intercontinental ballistic missile has failed in four straight tests, leading to embarrassment for Putin, who acknowledged that these missiles “have not yet been deployed.”
The trend is telling. Putin’s nuclear threats rely on high-profile demonstrations of weapons that either don’t function, can’t be mass-produced, or exist mainly as propaganda. With failures of tanks, missiles, and economic envoys touting military might, what was once seen as deterrence increasingly feels like mere theatrics.
Trump’s approach may be chaotic and perhaps even haphazard, but it has challenged Putin’s bluff. Unlike Biden’s careful caution, Trump made it clear that America’s strategic superiority, particularly in nuclear deterrence, remains unchallenged. This time around, Putin’s intimidation tactics are becoming less effective, failing to force the West to abandon support for Ukraine.
This doesn’t mean nuclear threats have completely vanished. However, Putin’s signature strategy of vague but menacing intimidation appears to be losing its potency. His influence in Washington has diminished, and more importantly, he no longer has the same reception.
Once his own spokesperson reveals that there’s no genuine nuclear test happening, the threat loses its weight. Putin’s nuclear intimidation seems to be on the decline. The direction ahead will rely on how the Kremlin adapts to a Washington that is less predictable and less intimidated by his tactics.
