Friedrich Merz made no attempt to soften the message in front of the cameras: German conventional forces will participate in a nuclear exercise conducted by the French armed forces before the end of 2026. The announcement came on Friday, July 17, at Nörvenich Air Base near Cologne, at the conclusion of the Franco-German Defence and Security Council. Standing beside him, Emmanuel Macron. Behind them, decades of German reluctance toward any form of nuclear cooperation with Paris.
The week had begun on Thursday evening at Schloss Bensberg, the castle in Bergisch Gladbach where de Gaulle and Adenauer had laid the groundwork for the Élysée Treaty in 1962 — a venue chosen with deliberate symbolism. The two leaders dined together and prepared for the following day’s intergovernmental council, the second and final joint session before Macron’s term ends in 2027. On that same day, to signal the substance of what was coming, French Rafale jets — designed to carry nuclear weapons — and Bundeswehr Eurofighters completed a joint aerial refuelling exercise, the first of its kind. The joint declaration signed by both leaders provides for German conventional participation in French nuclear exercises, joint visits to strategic sites, and consultations on the appropriate mix of conventional capabilities, missile defence, and France’s nuclear arsenal.
The backdrop is Macron’s so-called “advanced deterrence” proposal from March, when he also announced an expansion of France’s nuclear stockpile and invited European partners to join the initiative. Germany is the most significant partner to come on board: it is currently implementing the continent’s most ambitious conventional rearmament programme, aiming to field Europe’s strongest army by 2039. Seven other countries are already involved — including the United Kingdom, Poland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Greece, Sweden, and Denmark — but Berlin’s participation fundamentally changes the political profile of the initiative. France remains the European Union’s only nuclear power since Brexit removed the United Kingdom from the bloc.
Merz was unambiguous about the historic nature of the step: previous German chancellors had systematically rejected similar proposals from Paris. He chose differently. The cooperation, he clarified, involves conventional assets and complements — rather than replaces — the NATO framework, under which US nuclear weapons are already stationed on German soil and German aircraft are certified to carry them in an emergency. Macron was careful to stress that ultimate control over the nuclear weapon remains exclusively in the hands of the French president: no shared trigger, no financial contribution required from Berlin. What changes is the geometry of European deterrence — more coordinated, more visible, and more capable of generating what Macron called “strategic doubt in the minds of adversaries.”
The agreement came weeks after the collapse of the joint next-generation fighter programme FCAS, a $100 billion project abandoned in June due to industrial rivalries. Merz and Macron found themselves needing to demonstrate that Franco-German defence cooperation still exists — and that it delivers concrete results. On nuclear matters, they succeeded. On the aeronautical front, the road is longer: the two countries agreed to press ahead on selected elements of FCAS, particularly data-link systems connecting combat aircraft. Autumn will be the real test: if the nuclear exercise takes place on schedule, and if German soldiers find themselves physically integrated for the first time in a drill of France’s force de frappe, the bilateral axis will have proved it can hold even under pressure.
