THE recent signs of a thaw between Washington and Tehran have surprised many, especially the news that Donald Trump, never shy about vilifying Iran during his presidency, is now allegedly open to assisting the Islamic republic in building a nuclear reactor for power generation. While some interpret this as a reversal or a goodwill gesture, a closer look reveals a deeper geopolitical calculation at play.
This shift is not rooted in a newfound affection for Iran, nor a softening of US policy towards the country. It, rather, stems from Trump’s growing concern that Iran is being pulled into the gravitational orbit of China, Russia and North Korea, the so-called CRINK alliance. As global alliances realign in the post-unipolar world, former adversaries may become necessary bargaining partners to preserve American strategic interests. If offering Iran civilian nuclear cooperation can slow its embrace of America’s primary geopolitical rivals, realpolitik may override long-standing animosities.
But what of Israel, America’s closest ally in the region? It is no secret that prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu has exerted outsized influence on US Middle East policy over the years, often pushing successive administrations into hardline positions against Iran. Netanyahu’s relentless campaign against the 2015 Iran nuclear deal, the JCPOA, and continued lobbying for military containment left little room for diplomatic manoeuvring. Ironically, this maximalist approach may have accelerated the very outcome Israel sought to avoid: an Iran more determined than ever to secure its own leverage through nuclear capability while simultaneously deepening ties with anti-western rivals.
In this context, Trump’s move to engage Iran, however tactical, can be viewed as a counterbalancing act. It is a pivot that underscores a basic truth: international politics, especially where nuclear capability is concerned, is rarely guided by consistent moral principles. It is driven by strategic calculations, often cloaked in the language of security and nonproliferation.
Take, for instance, the vastly different treatment of nuclear ambitions across countries. Germany, despite being a highly advanced technological and economic powerhouse, is barred from possessing nuclear weapons, a legacy of World War II and post-war treaties. Meanwhile, Pakistan, whose internal stability has often been questioned, was allowed to develop nuclear weapons, largely because the United States saw it as a needed counterweight to India.
When Israel reportedly sought US support to bomb Pakistan’s nuclear facilities in the 1980s, Washington said ‘no.’ The rationale? Pakistan’s deterrence capability was seen as a regional stabiliser, not a threat to the global order. Similarly, India’s nuclear programme was tolerated, if not subtly encouraged, because it provided a strategic counterbalance to China’s growing power in Asia.
So, why is Iran held to a different standard? Why is any hint of Iranian nuclear development, civilian or military, met with global alarm and threats of war?
The answer lies in power asymmetry and the architecture of American hegemony in the Middle East. Iran is not seen through the same lens as India or even Pakistan. It challenges the status quo, supports proxies that threaten US allies and refuses to align itself with the western-dominated order. But it also suffers from profound internal vulnerabilities. Nearly half the population lives barely above the poverty line. Its industries and households struggle with chronic electricity shortages. For a country like this, nuclear energy could serve a very real developmental purpose.
Of course, Iran’s past lack of transparency, its confrontational rhetoric and its support for armed groups across the region have not helped its case. Trust is low and suspicions remain high. Yet to assume that Iran is building a bomb simply to attack Israel is not only simplistic; it is strategically naive.
Iran is acutely aware that a nuclear attack on Israel would trigger devastating retaliation, likely with US involvement. Tehran understands that nuclear weapons are not practical tools of warfare; they are instruments of deterrence. The doctrine of mutual assured destruction, forged during the cold war, still governs nuclear strategy today. That is why, despite decades of animosity, no nuclear-armed states have gone to war with each other.
What Iran likely seeks is what all nations seek in a volatile geopolitical environment: security. Possessing nuclear capability, or even being close to it, can change the calculations of adversaries. It can deter regime change, increase bargaining power and insulate a nation from external threats. The United States knows this. So do Israel, India, Pakistan and China.
That is why the American position on nuclear proliferation has always been selectively enforced. It is less about preventing nuclear weapons and more about controlling who gets to have them. This double standard is not lost on the world. Iran’s leadership and its population are aware of the geopolitical inconsistencies that govern international diplomacy.
If Trump, or any future US administration, is serious about resetting relations with Iran, the conversation must be broader than just enrichment levels and centrifuge counts. It must acknowledge the underlying power dynamics that fuel the nuclear question. It must recognise that no country, especially one as geopolitically exposed as Iran, will abandon its pursuit of deterrence unless it is guaranteed meaningful security in return.
And that broader conversation must also include resolving the region’s most enduring and explosive conflict: the Israeli Palestinian issue. The absence of a just and viable two-state solution continues to be a major source of hostility between Israel and the Muslim world. Without it, any form of peace will remain fragile and incomplete.
The Palestinians deserve a sovereign state of their own, just as Israelis deserve to live within secure borders. Peaceful coexistence is not only morally just; it is strategically essential. A fair resolution would undercut the ideological fuel that sustains extremism and resentment, both within the Arab world and in countries like Iran. It would also free Israel from the existential anxiety that often drives its security doctrine.
To move forward, both Iran and the United States must be willing to bury decades of mistrust, grievances and hostility. The time has come to turn the page on threats, sanctions and sabotage in favour of dialogue, compromise, and a genuine truce. A future built on mutual respect and pragmatic cooperation could serve not only both nations’ interests but also contribute to lasting peace across the Middle East.
And strangely enough, the only leader with the political audacity and ego large enough to pursue such a historic settlement might be Donald Trump. His ability to defy diplomatic conventions, his warm ties with Netanyahu and his unexpected engagements with adversaries like North Korea and the Taliban all show that he is willing to pursue bold and disruptive diplomacy. If Trump were to genuinely broker a lasting two-state solution, one that provides dignity and statehood to Palestinians while securing Israel’s future, he could well earn the Nobel peace prize that he once openly coveted. And this time, he might actually deserve it.
In the end, the world must come to terms with a basic truth: nuclear weapons are not going away. But they are not designed to be used; they are designed to prevent use. They are not weapons of war; they are weapons of fear and balance.
In a multipolar world shaped by rivalry and risk, true leadership lies not in threats or theatrics but in courageous diplomacy and moral consistency. The challenge for US foreign policy is not to dismantle deterrence but to navigate it with fairness and vision, replacing hostility with engagement and fear with the hope of coexistence.
Dr Abdullah A Dewan is a former physicist and nuclear engineer at the BAEC and professor emeritus of economics at Eastern Michigan University, USA.
