International law sits at the center of this dementia and brain health question.

International law explicitly prohibits attacks against nuclear power plants during wartime, with the primary legal protection found in Article 56 of Additional Protocol I to the 1949 Geneva Conventions. This prohibition is binding on 174 parties and three signitories, including Russia, and it applies when attacks could result in the release of dangerous radioactive forces that would cause severe civilian losses. When Russia attacked Ukraine’s critical energy infrastructure in 2024, including missile strikes on November 17 that damaged electric substations essential to the operation of nuclear power plants, it triggered international condemnation and investigations into potential violations of this fundamental rule.

This article explains how international humanitarian law protects nuclear infrastructure, when those protections can be lost, why enforcement remains weak, and what recent developments tell us about compliance and accountability. The rules governing nuclear attacks during conflict are surprisingly specific and narrowly defined, drawing clear lines between what is prohibited and what may be permitted under certain circumstances. Understanding these rules is important because they affect how countries conduct military operations, how civilian populations near nuclear facilities may be protected, and how the international community determines whether war crimes have occurred.

What Does International Law Say About Attacking Nuclear Infrastructure?
When Does a Nuclear Power Plant Lose Its Legal Protection?
The Russia-Ukraine Conflict as a Real-World Test Case
Could These Attacks Constitute War Crimes?
The Enforcement Gap and Accountability Problem
The Scope Question—Which Nuclear Facilities Are Protected?
Recent International Developments and Future Outlook
Conclusion

What Does International Law Say About Attacking Nuclear Infrastructure?

Article 56 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions represents the most comprehensive international legal protection for nuclear facilities. Adopted in 1977, Protocol I established that attacks against nuclear power plants are prohibited if such attacks may result in the release of dangerous forces and consequent severe losses among the civilian population. This protection applies regardless of the nationality of the plant’s operators or the belligerent parties involved in the conflict. Russia, as a formal party to both Additional Protocols, is legally bound by this provision, as are the vast majority of nations that have ratified Protocol I. The legal framework is notable for its specificity: it addresses the *type* of harm that matters (release of dangerous radioactive forces), not merely the strategic value of the facility. This distinguishes nuclear power plants from conventional

When Does a Nuclear Power Plant Lose Its Legal Protection?

The international law protection is not absolute. A nuclear power plant loses its protected status if it provides electrical power in “regular, significant, and direct support” of military operations, AND if attacking the plant is “the only feasible way to terminate that support.” This dual condition is deliberately stringent: a military cannot simply decide that a power plant benefits the enemy’s war effort. Instead, the plant must be providing essential, ongoing military utility that cannot be disrupted by any other means. This exception was designed to prevent situations where a belligerent might face an impossible choice between refraining from a militarily necessary attack and accepting serious operational disadvantage. However, the practical application of this exception is narrow in the extreme.

For the exception to apply, the attacking party would need to demonstrate that cutting power to civilian infrastructure was the *only* way to stop military support—not one of several options, and not the most effective option, but the only possible option. In reality, militaries almost always have alternative means to disrupt enemy operations, making invocation of this exception rare. Moreover, even if the exception theoretically applies, the attacking party must still take precautions to minimize civilian harm, use weapons that are not indiscriminate, and avoid attacks that would cause excessive civilian loss compared to the anticipated military advantage. The burden of proof for satisfying this exception rests with the attacking state. International law does not presume that attacks on nuclear facilities were justified; rather, the attacking state must affirmatively establish that both conditions were met. This creates an inherent tension: the state needs to be able to attack critical military targets, but the extraordinary risks posed by nuclear accidents impose stricter requirements than apply to conventional targets.

The Russia-Ukraine Conflict as a Real-World Test Case

The Russia-Ukraine war has become the most significant test of international law protections for nuclear infrastructure in the modern era. On July 4, 2024, the UN General Assembly adopted a resolution demanding that Russia “immediately cease attacks against critical energy infrastructure of Ukraine” and withdraw from the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant, which Russia has occupied and used as a military base. This resolution represented broad international consensus that Russia’s approach violated international legal norms, even though it falls short of establishing definitive findings of war crimes. The pattern of attacks intensified through 2024.

On October 22, 2024, thirteen UN Special Rapporteurs—independent experts appointed to monitor specific human rights and humanitarian law issues—formally communicated to Russia that attacks on energy infrastructure indispensable for civilian survival are prohibited under international humanitarian law. Two weeks later, on November 17, 2024, large-scale Russian missile attacks caused significant damage to electric substations essential for operating Ukraine’s nuclear power plants. These attacks occurred despite international warnings and with full awareness that the targets were critical to nuclear facility safety. The timing and targeting suggest deliberate strategy rather than incidental damage. What makes the Ukraine case particularly significant is that it demonstrates the difference between what the law says should happen and what actually happens. Russia’s actions show the reality of enforcement: international law can prohibit conduct, but without effective enforcement mechanisms, states may violate prohibitions with limited immediate consequences beyond diplomatic pressure and international statements.

The Russia-Ukraine Conflict as a Real-World Test Case

Could These Attacks Constitute War Crimes?

Under certain conditions, attacks against nuclear power plants may constitute war crimes under international humanitarian law. An attack on a nuclear facility that results in the release of dangerous radioactive forces and causes death, injury, or severe civilian suffering could meet the definition of a war crime if the attacker knew or should have known that the expected civilian harm would be excessive compared to the military advantage gained. This is sometimes called the “excessive harm” or “disproportionality” test. For an attack to rise to the level of a war crime, it must satisfy specific conditions: the attacker must have committed an intentional act, the act must violate a rule of international humanitarian law protecting civilians or civilian objects, and the attacker must have been aware of the factual circumstances that made the conduct unlawful.

In the case of nuclear facilities, the knowledge element is often satisfied because the attacker clearly understands that nuclear plants pose radiation risks—there is no plausible claim of ignorance. However, proving that a particular attack constituted a war crime requires establishing these elements beyond reasonable doubt, which is why investigations take years and international cooperation remains essential. The International Criminal Court and other accountability mechanisms have preliminary jurisdiction over potential war crimes related to nuclear infrastructure attacks, but investigating, prosecuting, and convicting states for such violations has proven extremely difficult in practice. Political considerations, questions of state sovereignty, and the complexity of establishing causation between an attack and resulting civilian harm all complicate accountability.

The Enforcement Gap and Accountability Problem

Perhaps the most significant weakness in the international legal framework protecting nuclear infrastructure is the lack of clear enforcement mechanisms. The question of how violating states can be held accountable remains largely unresolved. International law can prohibit conduct, but enforcement depends on a combination of factors: political will from other states, the existence of effective international institutions, and the cooperation of all major powers. In the case of Russia’s actions in Ukraine, international bodies have issued statements and resolutions, but translating these into concrete accountability for violations of Article 56 has proven extremely challenging. Russia, as a permanent member of the UN Security Council, can veto actions taken through that body.

The International Criminal Court can investigate and prosecute individuals, but only if states cooperate in arresting suspects and providing evidence. For state-level accountability, mechanisms like the International Court of Justice exist, but enforcement of their rulings depends on political compliance. This structural weakness means that powerful states can violate rules protecting nuclear infrastructure with relatively limited immediate legal consequences, though they may face longer-term diplomatic and economic isolation. This enforcement gap does not render the legal rules meaningless—international law still sets behavioral norms and creates moral and political obligations—but it does explain why violations can occur even when the rules are clear. States understand that enforcement is weak, and this can reduce the deterrent effect of legal prohibitions.

The Enforcement Gap and Accountability Problem

The Scope Question—Which Nuclear Facilities Are Protected?

One of the critical limitations in international legal protection is its scope. Article 56 of Additional Protocol I applies specifically and explicitly to nuclear power plants—facilities that generate electricity through nuclear fission. This narrow scope reflects the technology and understanding available in 1977, when the protocol was adopted. However, other nuclear installations pose comparable risks to civilian populations. Spent-fuel storage pools, which store highly radioactive nuclear waste from power plants, can contain more fissile material than an operating reactor.

A successful attack on spent-fuel storage could release comparable quantities of radioactivity. Similarly, nuclear reprocessing plants, which process spent fuel, and research reactors used for scientific purposes all pose radiation hazards. Yet none of these facilities enjoy the specific legal protection afforded to power plants under Article 56. This creates a concerning protection gap: a nation could theoretically avoid attacking a power plant—and thus complying with international law—while targeting the associated storage and reprocessing facilities that pose comparable or greater civilian risks. The legal framework has not caught up with the full scope of nuclear hazards that exist in the modern world.

Recent International Developments and Future Outlook

The Russia-Ukraine conflict has prompted renewed attention to the adequacy of international legal frameworks for nuclear facilities in conflict. In 2024, multiple UN bodies issued statements and resolutions specifically addressing nuclear infrastructure protection, suggesting growing international concern that existing rules may be insufficient. The frequency and scope of attacks on energy infrastructure supporting nuclear facility operations—a tactic Russia has employed repeatedly—revealed that the law as written may not clearly address attacks on supporting infrastructure that are essential to keeping nuclear plants safe, even if the plants themselves are not directly targeted.

Looking forward, the international humanitarian law community faces questions about whether existing rules require clarification, updating, or stronger enforcement mechanisms. Some legal experts argue for extending Article 56 protections to all nuclear facilities, not just power plants. Others advocate for developing clearer standards about when supporting infrastructure for nuclear facilities deserves protection comparable to that afforded the facilities themselves. These discussions reflect a growing recognition that the legal framework, while clear in its core prohibition, may need refinement to address the evolving realities of modern warfare and the proliferation of nuclear facilities worldwide.

Conclusion

International law clearly prohibits attacks against nuclear power plants during wartime, with this prohibition found in Article 56 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions and binding on a majority of nations including Russia. The protection is qualified—it can be lost if the plant provides direct military support and attacking it is the only feasible way to terminate that support—but this exception is intentionally narrow and rarely justified in practice. Recent Russian attacks on Ukraine’s critical energy infrastructure have demonstrated both the relevance of these legal rules and the significant gap between what the law prohibits and what states can do with limited immediate accountability.

The primary challenge facing international law’s protection of nuclear infrastructure is enforcement. While the rules are clear and backed by the moral authority of international humanitarian law, violating states face limited immediate legal consequences, particularly when they possess significant political power. Ongoing developments in international humanitarian law—including expanding discussions about facility scope and supporting infrastructure—suggest that the framework may evolve in response to the Ukraine conflict. Until enforcement mechanisms are strengthened or the specific circumstances of violations change, however, the law’s protection remains important in principle but incomplete in practice.