In June 2025, Israel, soon followed by the United States, launched strikes targeting Iran’s nuclear facilities. The target wasn’t a nuclear-armed regime—it was a nation engaged in diplomacy. Iran had long remained a party to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), granted the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) partial access to its facilities, and publicly declared—through a fatwa by Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei—that nuclear weapons were forbidden under Islam. Earlier in 2025, it had even engaged in indirect talks with the US, signaling its continued commitment to diplomacy.
But this policy of compliance and transparency offered Iran no protection. On the contrary, it made the country more vulnerable—more open to intervention. Israel’s 13 June strike ended the ongoing negotiations. The US follow-up attacks marked a new era, one where military power once again takes precedence over diplomacy. What happened was not just a military action; it was a symbolic rupture that made one thing painfully clear: in today’s global order, following the rules no longer guarantees safety. Restraint is no longer seen as a virtue, too often, it is mistaken for weakness.
The nuclear club’s double standard
There’s something deeply flawed in the current nuclear order. The loudest voices for nonproliferation belong to states that already possess massive nuclear arsenals. The US, Russia, China, Britain, France—and not least, Israel with its unacknowledged but widely known arsenal—all enjoy ultimate security guarantees while denying others the same protection.
Consider this: Iran was bombed precisely because it lacked nuclear weapons. North Korea, on the other hand, has successfully tested multiple nuclear devices and long-range missiles, yet remains largely untouched despite repeated missile tests and open threats. The strategic message is clear.
Ukraine’s experience makes this point even starker. In the 1990s, Kyiv gave up what was then the world’s third-largest nuclear arsenal in exchange for security guarantees under the 1994 Budapest Memorandum. The outcome speaks volumes: Russia invaded in 2014 and again in 2022, while the world largely watched from the sidelines.
These are not anomalies; they expose the true structure of global security, far removed from the idealism it often claims.
The NPT: A system that protects the haves by restraining the have-nots
The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty was supposed to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons while moving toward eventual disarmament. In practice, it’s done something quite different: it’s frozen the nuclear hierarchy in place. The five official nuclear powers keep their arsenals (and continue modernising them), while everyone else is expected to remain defenseless indefinitely.
Iran’s case illustrates the NPT’s core contradiction: compliance doesn’t guarantee protection. Tehran followed every rule, allowed unprecedented inspections, and even issued religious prohibitions against nuclear weapons development. And was still attacked. Not because it violated any agreement, but precisely because it had remained vulnerable by honoring those agreements.
For many countries watching these events unfold, the NPT increasingly looks less like a path to peace and more like a protection racket for existing nuclear powers.
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The new security calculus
In regions where nuclear weapons are already present, being the only non-nuclear state now looks less like moral leadership and more like a dangerous miscalculation. Israel’s nuclear arsenal, though unacknowledged officially, is widely known across the Middle East. Meanwhile, North Korea’s growing nuclear stockpile casts a long shadow over East Asia. Both Pakistan and India maintain active nuclear capabilities. Against this backdrop, other regional actors confront a harsh reality: either accept enduring strategic disadvantage or pursue their own means of deterrence. States reconsidering their security strategies might explore various paths, including expanding civilian nuclear programs with military potential (“dual-use” technology), enhancing domestic nuclear research capabilities, fostering public discourse on deterrence policies and strategic independence, or employing strategic ambiguity to keep rivals uncertain.
This isn’t necessarily about starting arms race, it’s about ensuring that no country finds itself in Iran’s position: vulnerable precisely because it chose to remain defenceless.
Look at different approaches that countries have taken. Israel maintains nuclear weapons without officially acknowledging them. Japan has developed the technical capacity to build nuclear weapons quickly but chooses not to. Germany participates in NATO nuclear sharing arrangements. Each represents a different balance between security needs and nonproliferation norms.
Deterrence versus aggression: Understanding the difference
Nuclear weapons aren’t primarily tools of invasion; they’re insurance policies against obliteration. Their main purpose isn’t to be used but to ensure they never need to be used. The whole logic of nuclear deterrence rests on making the costs of aggression prohibitively high.
Iran’s tragedy in 2025 illustrates what happens when that insurance policy doesn’t exist. The country wasn’t attacked because it was threatening anyone, it was attacked because it couldn’t threaten back.
The implications extend far beyond the Middle East. If the post-Cold War security order is breaking down, if alliance guarantees are becoming less reliable, then countries worldwide need to reconsider their strategic assumptions. This isn’t a regional concern, it’s a global one.
The old assumption that good behavior would be rewarded with protection is looking increasingly naive. In a world where strength determines security, weakness invites aggression, regardless of moral standing or legal compliance.
Sovereignty through strength
Iran tried the path of restraint and compliance. It was bombed anyway.
The lesson isn’t that nuclear weapons should be used, it’s that they change the entire calculation of risk and reward. A nuclear capability isn’t a sword; it’s a shield. Its value lies not in its destructive potential but in its deterrent effect.
As the international system becomes more unpredictable and alliance relationships more conditional, the imperative for strategic self-reliance grows stronger. Whether through nuclear ambiguity, technological preparedness, or revised defence doctrines, nations must ensure they cannot be attacked with impunity.
The alternative, as Iran learned, is to remain exposed to the shifting priorities of global powers, where legality offers no real protection, no matter how strictly you follow international law or how peaceful your intentions.
In the end, sovereignty and security remain inseparable. The events of 2025 have made that truth impossible to ignore.
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The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.








