THE war against Iran on which the United States and Israel have embarked has revived fears of nuclear conflict. The war has been partly justified by Washington and Israel as a way to stop Iran from getting the bomb, although there is no evidence that this is an imminent threat.
Instead, President Donald Trump and the Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, have opened a Pandora’s box, and the nuclear threat has escalated. Most proliferation experts assess that Iran is more likely now than it was to try to build a weapon to deter further attacks by its two nuclear-armed adversaries. More immediately, two days after Easter, Mr Trump threatened: “a whole civilization will die tonight, never to be brought back again.” This has been widely interpreted as a threat to use nuclear weapons to end the war.
With nuclear weapons, the world is trapped in a deadly paradox. Nations spend more than $100 billion every year on nuclear weapons — devices built never to be used — while human suffering, environmental collapse, and global inequality deepen.
The claim that nuclear deterrence keeps us safe has collapsed under the weight of history. Deterrence has survived not through wisdom, but through luck; and, as the United Nations’ Secretary-General, Antonio Guterres, says, luck is not a security strategy. Near misses, accidents, and miscalculations have already brought humanity to the edge of catastrophe.
Nine countries now possess more than 12,000 nuclear warheads. Most refuse even the basic restraint of a No First Use policy, clinging to doctrines that heighten instability and increase the risk of escalation. The UK’s nuclear posture, dependent on the United States for the Trident missile’s operational capability, raises profound questions about sovereignty, ethics, and the moral legitimacy of its deterrent. These weapons offer no protection against terrorism, cyber threats, or climate-driven instability; and yet they drain resources that could transform lives and protect the planet.
The human and environmental toll of nuclear testing and production remains a stain on our collective conscience. Contaminated lands, chronic illnesses among veterans, workers and the communities living near test sites, as well as intergenerational genetic harm, reveal the true cost of nuclear activity. The refusal to acknowledge or compensate affected communities — including those harmed during the UK’s Australian and Christmas Island tests — is not only unjust: it is morally indefensible.
AROUND the world, people are demanding change. A clear majority of UN member states, global faith communities, civil-society groups, and members of the younger generations support the total elimination of nuclear weapons through the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons. Yet, nuclear-armed states resist, trapped by prestige, power politics, and outdated doctrines. This widening gulf between public conscience and government policy is no longer acceptable.
Global instability is rising. The Russia-Ukraine war, US-China tensions, and volatile regions in South Asia and the Middle East have revived the spectre of nuclear escalation. As the Doomsday Clock moves closer to midnight, the failure of global leadership to renew arms-control agreements or pursue disarmament is reckless in the extreme. New technologies — cyber warfare, autonomous systems, hypersonic weapons — only magnify the danger. One truth remains: no nation can win a nuclear war, and no leader has the moral right to gamble with humanity’s survival.
Humanity stands at a crossroads. Continuing to rely on nuclear deterrence guarantees insecurity, environmental destruction, and moral contradiction. The alternative — genuine multilateral co-operation, rigorous verification, and transparent dialogue — offers a path towards real disarmament. Nuclear weapons have failed as instruments of peace. Their existence threatens civilisation itself. The only responsible path is to reduce nuclear risks, rebuild trust, and eliminate these weapons before they eliminate us.
The United Nations’ veto system shields the interests of the five permanent members — all nuclear-armed — and obstructs progress toward a universal ban. The most effective counterweight is public pressure: citizens challenging governments, demanding accountability, and insisting on open debate about the future of nuclear weapons.
Power politics has corrupted the moral responsibility of nations. Peace built on intimidation is not peace at all. True peace requires recognition, reconciliation, and respect for the dignity of every person and every nation. Strength is not measured by the ability to destroy, but by the courage to seek the common good.
AT THE heart of this issue lies a simple, devastating question: How can any nation justify spending vast sums on weapons of mass destruction while millions suffer and the planet itself is in peril? Redirecting these resources towards human flourishing would do more for global security than any warhead ever could.
For many — people of faith and people with none — opposition to nuclear weapons arises from a deep reverence for creation. The earth is not ours to exploit: it is a gift entrusted to our care. Nuclear weapons stand in direct opposition to that responsibility.
The nuclear-armed states are all modernising their arsenals, and yet the inheritance of nuclear arsenals imposes a grave burden on future generations. They did not choose these weapons, and yet they will live under their shadow. As a Native American saying, attributed to Chief Seattle, puts it: “We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors: we borrow it from our children.”
Robert M. H. Knotts served in the RAF for 33 years, rising to senior officer rank, and later became a lecturer.
