Eighty-one years have passed since the atomic bomb was unleashed on Hiroshima, marking a turning point in global military history. Of the 195 states recognized by the United Nations, 186 remain unable to build nuclear warheads, despite significant advances in technology over the decades. This number has remained unchanged for almost six decades, a surprising and notable fact given the spread of advanced scientific knowledge in the modern world.
Saudi Arabia's new nuclear deal
Now, a new development could disrupt this long-standing pattern. The United States has recently struck a nuclear energy agreement with Saudi Arabia, a country that, on the surface, appears to be pursuing civilian energy goals. However, once a nation acquires the infrastructure and expertise to enrich uranium, the technical gap between producing fuel for reactors and building nuclear weapons shrinks dramatically. Enrichment technology is often viewed as a dual-use capability, meaning it can serve both peaceful and military purposes — and once it is in place, the path to weapons production can be relatively straightforward.
This aspect of the deal is a cause for concern. Saudi Arabia has access to the world's second-largest oil reserves, and its vast desert areas are among the best in the world for generating solar energy. Covering just 1% of the country's desert with solar panels could generate as much electricity as 60% of the total consumed in the United States. Yet, the focus of the nuclear deal seems to be less about energy and more about deterrence. Saudi leaders have made it clear that their primary objective is to counter the nuclear capabilities of Iran, their regional Shia rival. If Iran is allowed to develop nuclear weapons, Saudi Arabia may feel compelled to match it — and the new U.S.-Saudi nuclear agreement could provide the foundation for that parity.
A possible cascade effect
The implications of this shift could be far-reaching. If Saudi Arabia is allowed to move toward nuclear weapons through a U.S.-backed deal, what will prevent other nations from taking similar paths? Public sentiment in some countries suggests growing interest in nuclear deterrence. For example, 70% of South Koreans support acquiring nuclear weapons to offset the threat posed by North Korea. Japan and Taiwan, both anxious about China's rising power, may also reconsider their non-nuclear stance. Similarly, Poland and Ukraine have expressed concerns about Russian aggression and may see nuclear capabilities as a potential safeguard.
Even Australia, a traditional U.S. ally, is not immune to these pressures. Following the Trump administration’s vague and alarming comments about the AUKUS submarine deal — which included plans to provide nuclear-powered subs to Australia — many in Australia began to question whether they could truly rely on U.S. protection in the long term. This doubt could lead to a reevaluation of national security strategies, including the possibility of developing an independent nuclear deterrent.
In the past, the United States managed the risk of proliferation by extending what is known as a “nuclear umbrella” to its allies. This policy offered reassurance that the U.S. would defend its allies with its own nuclear capabilities, thereby reducing the perceived need for them to build their own weapons. However, this approach is now under question. The current administration appears to prioritize transactional, short-term diplomacy over long-term commitments, which may weaken the credibility of the nuclear umbrella. If allies feel that their security can no longer be guaranteed by Washington, they may look inward for solutions — and that could mean developing nuclear capabilities themselves.
Some experts argue that allowing more countries to become nuclear-armed might reduce global aggression, as the threat of mutual destruction could act as a deterrent. But the evidence for this theory is not strong, and the world is now closer to a potential nuclear conflict than it has been since the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962. What’s more, the new nuclear states in this scenario may include countries led by leaders who see the end of the world as imminent and may be less constrained by traditional norms of diplomacy and deterrence. This introduces a dangerous uncertainty into global security.
It is important to recognize that the shift from long-standing alliance commitments to transactional diplomacy is not based on careful deliberation, but rather on the preferences of one leader. The current administration's approach contrasts sharply with previous strategies that focused on stability and long-term planning. The world has benefited from an extended period of relative peace and reduced conflict under the previous nuclear order. Now, it is unclear whether this stability will hold as more countries consider the path to self-reliance in security.
The situation highlights a deeper issue in global politics: the difficulty of maintaining trust and cooperation in an environment of rapid change and uncertain leadership. The United States has long played the role of the global enforcer and protector, offering security guarantees to allies in exchange for cooperation. But if those guarantees are no longer seen as reliable, the results could be destabilizing. As more nations look to balance the nuclear scales on their own, the risk of miscalculation, escalation, and ultimately, war, increases.
In conclusion, the U.S.-Saudi nuclear deal represents a pivotal moment in global nuclear policy. While the immediate goal may be energy development, the implications for security are profound. The possibility of a nuclear cascade — where one nation's pursuit of nuclear weapons prompts others to follow — cannot be ignored. And in a world where trust in alliances is eroding, the need for caution and strategic foresight has never been greater.