It is the height of political and military failure when a state with the world’s biggest arsenal and its most advanced technology concludes that deploying a nuclear weapon—even of limited yield—could resolve a political crisis or war that conventional weaponry could not settle.
This is not merely a dangerous idea. It marks a resounding collapse of strategic reasoning, the abasement of human thought to a level whereby the extermination of human beings and destruction of entire cities become acceptable options for discussion among military planners. Equally alarming are attempts to legitimize this approach through euphemisms like “limited strikes” or “tactical weapons”—as if changing the terminology alters the nature of the catastrophe.
Certain political actors and media outlets report that Washington has mulled the possibility of using a “tactical” nuclear weapon against an Iranian target. Some have speculated that the primary deterrent to such an action may be the fear that Russia could exploit the precedent in its war in Ukraine. While these may just be rumors, their gravity lies in what they would represent: a potential transformation of nuclear weapons from deterrents to actual battlefield weapons, holding the fate of millions of human beings hostage to military calculations that treat annihilation as merely another rung on the ladder of escalation.
The Lessons of History
More than 80 years ago, in August 1945, the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, ushering humanity into a new era: one of weapons capable of obliterating entire cities in an instant. Tens of thousands perished in the moment of each blast, and estimates suggest that the total death toll within the first four months reached 90,000-166,000 in Hiroshima, and up to 80,000 in Nagasaki. Many of the survivors endured horrific injuries, chronic illnesses and lifelong psychological trauma—a harrowing human testament that the repercussions of nuclear warfare last well beyond military operations.
The shocking irony is that despite witnessing this tragedy and documenting it through photographs, personal accounts and research, the world still permits a discourse that entertains the use of these weapons. Eight decades of warnings, treaties and conferences appear not to have convinced certain minds that a nuclear bomb is no ordinary weapon whose yield can be adjusted, its targets precisely defined, or its consequences confidently managed.
Labeling a nuclear bomb as “tactical” does not render it a legitimate means to achieve political gains, just as describing a massacre as “calculated” does not alter its nature. The issue lies not merely in the scale of the explosion, but in the legitimization of a weapon with an extraordinary capacity for destruction—opening the door for repeated use whenever military calculations go awry.
The Great Deception
The deception begins with the drawing of a distinction between “tactical” and “strategic” nuclear weapons, implying that the former can be deployed relatively safely. While nuclear weapons indeed vary in their capabilities and intended targets, these differences do not negate their vast destructive power, nor grant their users control over the consequences of deploying them.
A nuclear explosion does not recognize political borders; nor does radiation seek military commanders’ permission to spread. Moreover, escalation does not necessarily halt at the point envisioned by planners; a strike described by its perpetrators as “limited” could easily trigger a chain reaction of military and political responses with repercussions far beyond the original objectives.
More dangerously, the very term “tactical nuclear weapon” helps normalize something that should remain strictly prohibited under international norms. It transforms nuclear weapons from an exceptional catastrophe into another item on the menu of military options, fostering the dangerous illusion that victory can be purchased through a dose of mass destruction.
Herein lies the moral collapse: when decision-makers see the core issue as the amount of force required to destroy a target, rather than the underlying legitimacy of deploying a weapon that could unleash a humanitarian and environmental disaster.
Neither the U.S., Israel, nor any other nuclear power has a moral mandate to turn entire populations into testing grounds for their destructive capabilities. Sovereignty does not confer the right to commit annihilation, nor does military superiority grant the authority to decide who deserves to live and who may be sacrificed to achieve strategic objectives.
The problem lies not only in the possession of nuclear weapons, but in the mindset that views force as a substitute for politics; a belief that destroying an adversary can compensate for the inability to reach a negotiated settlement. This mindset has driven the world into devastating wars, only for belligerents to discover that military victories do not necessarily yield a stable peace.
If Washington’s goal is to prevent Tehran from acquiring nuclear weapons, how can the use of such weapons against it possibly be justified? What message would this send to other nations, who realize that not having nuclear weapons offers no protection against being targeted by them?
Such use would undermine the non-proliferation regime and encourage other nations to seek nuclear deterrents, as international guarantees have proven incapable of providing protection against the very power supposedly tasked with safeguarding the global order.
The Gulf is no Nuclear Laboratory
The very notion of nuking Iran, as if the consequences could be contained within its borders, is deeply flawed. The Gulf states would be well within the geographical, economic, and environmental radius of such a crisis; radioactive contamination would pose a grave threat to their populations and water resources, economies and maritime navigation—depending on the nature of the incident, its location, and the prevailing atmospheric and maritime conditions. How could one justify exposing millions of people to risks of such magnitude, in a war they did not choose? How can major powers claim to prioritize the region’s security while weighing options that could threaten the very foundations of life there?
The Gulf states have paid a heavy price for conflicts in which they have had no say. It is unacceptable that the region should bear the catastrophic consequences of military gambles taken by others.
The Gulf will not be protected by expanding the war, but by preventing it from escalating to new, more destructive levels. Any strategy that ignores this reality does not safeguard regional security but multiplies the threats against it.
The Risk of a Precedent
If reluctance to give Russia a pretext to use nuclear weapons in Ukraine is all that deters a similar strike against Iran, this is simply another indictment of today’s international order.
The standard that should prevent the use of nuclear weapons is not Washington’s concern that Moscow might resort to such an option, nor Moscow’s fear of a response from Washington. Instead, it should be the recognition of a stark reality: crossing the nuclear threshold would fundamentally shift the global order, reducing long-standing taboos to mere political options, subject to negotiation.
These dangers are not theoretical. The war in Ukraine has demonstrated how the nuclear threat can be leveraged to apply political and strategic pressure. In November 2024, Moscow amended its nuclear doctrine to broaden the circumstances under which it might deploy nuclear weapons, to include certain conventional attacks that threaten its sovereignty or territorial integrity.
A nuclear precedent would not remain the exclusive prerogative of those who deploy it. What is permitted today against Iran could be invoked tomorrow in Europe or Asia. Exceptions gradually harden into rules, dragging the world into a race with an uncertain outcome.
Militarizing Civilizations
Humanity’s gravest defeat would not be in losing a war, but accepting the idea that extermination is a legitimate means to resolve political disputes. If diplomacy fails, sanctions prove ineffective and military forces fall short, the solution is not to use nuclear weapons, but to re-examine the policies that led to such an impasse.
A power that must threaten millions of lives to impose its will shows not strength, but the limits of its influence and the inadequacy of its conventional tools. The very act of contemplating the use of nuclear weapons should raise alarm bells around the world, demanding urgent political action—not technical debates over the yield of a bomb or the radius of an explosion.
The current and future international orders do not need a third Hiroshima to be reminded of the lesson for which the Japanese people once paid the ultimate price.
Accepting the use of nuclear weapons as a military option does not reflect an advancement in the balance of power. Rather, it reveals a profound crisis in political and strategic thought, and an erosion of ethical standards governing the use of force. This threatens the foundations of international security, renders the future of humanity hostage to decisions whose repercussions could exceed the capacity of states to contain them, and leaves the fate of our region at the mercy of humanity’s most brutal tools.
