SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
It's no exaggeration to say that those arms control treaties, taken together, probably saved the world from a nuclear Armageddon. (Photo: Jim Lo Scalzo/European Pressphoto Agency)
It was only an announcement, but think of it as the beginning of a journey into hell. Last week, President Donald Trump made public his decision to abrogate the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty (INF), a 1987 agreement with the Soviet Union. National Security Advisor John Bolton, a Cold Warrior in a post-Cold War world, promptly flaunted that announcement on a trip to Vladimir Putin's Moscow. To grasp the import of that decision, however, quite another kind of voyage is necessary, a trip down memory lane.
That 1987 pact between Moscow and Washington was no small thing in a world that, during the Cuban Missile Crisis only 25 years earlier, had reached the edge of nuclear Armageddon. The INF Treaty led to the elimination of thousands of nuclear weapons, but its significance went far beyond that. As a start, it closed the books on the nightmare of a Europe caught between the world-ending strategies of the two superpowers, since most of those "intermediate-range" missiles were targeting that very continent. No wonder, last week, a European Union spokesperson, responding to Trump, fervently defended the treaty as a permanent "pillar" of international order.
To take that trip back three decades in time and remember how the INF came about should be an instant reminder of just how President Trump is playing havoc with something essential to human survival.
In October 1986 in Reykjavik, Iceland, the leaders of the United States and the Soviet Union, Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, briefly came close to fully freeing the planet from the horrifying prospect of nuclear annihilation. In his second inaugural address, a year and a half earlier, President Reagan had wishfully called for "the total elimination" of nuclear weapons. At that Reykjavik summit, Gorbachev, a pathbreaking Soviet leader, promptly took the president up on that dream, proposing -- to the dismay of the aides of both leaders -- a total nuclear disarmament pact that would take effect in the year 2000.
Reagan promptly agreed in principle. "Suits me fine," he said. "That's always been my goal." But it didn't happen. Reagan had another dream, too -- of a space-based missile defense system against just such weaponry, the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), also dubbed "Star Wars." He refused to yield on the subject when Gorbachev rejected SDI as the superpower arms race transferred into space. "This meeting is over," Reagan then said.
Of the failure of Reykjavik, Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze would then comment: "When future generations read the transcripts of this meeting, they will not forgive us." At that point, the nuclear arsenals of the U.S. and the USSR had hit a combined 60,000 weapons and were still growing. (Five new American nuclear weapons were being added each day.) A month after Reykjavik, in fact, the U.S. deployed a new B-52-based cruise missile system in violation of the 1979 SALT II Treaty. Hawks in Moscow were pressing for similar escalations. Elites on both sides -- weapons manufacturers, intelligence and political establishments, think tanks, military bureaucracies, and pundits -- were appalled at what the two leaders had almost agreed to. The national security priesthood, East and West, wanted to maintain what was termed "the stability of the strategic stalemate," even if such stability, based on ever-expanding arsenals, could not have been less stable.
But a widespread popular longing for relief from four decades of nuclear dread had been growing on both sides of the Iron Curtain. In a surge of anti-nuclear activism, millions of ordinary citizens took to the streets of cities in the U.S. and Europe to protest the superpower nuclear establishments. Even behind the Iron Curtain, voices for peace could be heard. "Listen," Gorbachev pleaded after Reykjavik, "to the demands of the American people, the Soviet people, the peoples of all countries."
A Watershed Treaty
As it happened, the Soviet leader refused to settle for Reagan's no. Four months after the Iceland summit, he proposed an agreement "without delay" to remove from Europe all intermediate missiles -- those with a range well under that of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). When Pentagon officials tried to swat Gorbachev's proposal aside by claiming that there could be no such agreement without on-site inspections, he said fine, inspect away! That was an unprecedented concession from the Soviet Union.
President Reagan was surrounded by men like then-Assistant Secretary of StatePaul Wolfowitz (later to become infamous for his role in promoting a post-9/11 invasion of Iraq), who assumed Gorbachev was a typical Soviet "master of deceit." But for all his hawkishness, the president had other instincts as well. Events would show that, on the subject of nukes (SDI notwithstanding), Reagan had indeed recognized the threat to the human future posed by the open-ended accumulation of ever more of those weapons and had become a kind of nuclear abolitionist. Even if ending that threat was inconceivable to him, his desire to mitigate it would prove genuine.
At the time, however, Reagan had other problems to deal with. Just as Gorbachev put forward his surprising initiative, the American president found himself engulfed in the Iran-Contra scandal -- a criminal conspiracy to trade arms for hostages with Iran, while illegally aiding right-wing paramilitaries in Central America. It threatened to become his Watergate. It would, in the end, lead to the indictments of 14 members of his administration. Beleaguered, he desperately wanted to change the subject. A statesman-like rescue of faltering arms-control negotiations might prove just the helping hand he was looking for. So the day before he went on television to abjectly offer repentance for Iran-Contra, he announced that he would accept Gorbachev's INF proposal. His hawkish inner circle was thoroughly disgusted by the gesture. Secretary of Defense Casper Weinberger promptly resigned in protest. (He would later be indicted for Iran-Contra.)
On December 8, 1987, Reagan and Gorbachev would indeed meet in Washington and sign the INF Treaty, eliminating more than 2,000 ground-based warheads and giving Europe the reprieve its people had wanted. This would be the first actual reduction in nuclear weapons to occur since two atomic bombs were built at Los Alamos in 1945. The INF Treaty proved historic for turning back the tide of escalation. It showed that the arms race could be not just frozen but reversed, that negotiations could lead the two superpowers out of what seemed like the ultimate impasse -- a model that should be urgently applicable today.
In reality, the mutually reinforcing hair-trigger nuclear posture of the United States and the Soviet Union was not much altered by the treaty, since only land-based, not air- and submarine-launched missiles, were affected by it and longer range ICBMs were off the table. (Still, Europe could breathe a bit easier, even if, in operational terms, nuclear danger had not been much reduced.) Yet that treaty would prove a turning point, opening the way to a better future. It would be essential to the political transformation that quickly followed, the wholly unpredicted and surprisingly non-violent end to the Cold War that arrived not quite two years later. The treaty showed that the arms race itself could be ended -- and eventually, it nearly would be. That is the lesson that somehow needs to be preserved in the Trump era.
A Man for All Apocalypses
In reality, the Trump administration's abandonment of the INF Treaty has little to do with the actual deployment of intermediate-range missiles, whether those that the Pentagon may now seek to emplace in Europe or those apparently already being put in place in Russia. In truth, such nuclear firepower will not add much to what submarine- and air-launched cruise missiles can already do. As for Vladimir Putin's bellicosity, removing the restraints on arms control will only magnify the Russian leader's threatening behavior. However, it should be clear by now that Donald Trump's urge to trash the treaty comes from his own bellicosity, not from Russian (or, for that matter, Chinese) aggressiveness. Trump seems to deplore the pact precisely because of what it meant to Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, as well as to the millions who cheered them on long ago: its repudiation of an apocalyptic future. (As his position on climate change indicates, the president is visibly a man for all apocalypses.)
Trump has launched a second nuclear age by rejecting the treaty that was meant to initiate the closing of the first one. The arms race was then slowed, but, alas, the competitors stumbled on through the end of the Cold War. Shutting that arms-contest down completely remained an unfinished task, in part because the dynamic of weapons reduction proved so reversible even before Donald Trump made it into the Oval Office. George W. Bush, for instance, struck a blow against arms control with his 2002 abrogation of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, which rekindled Reagan's Star Wars fantasy. The way Washington subsequently promoted missile defense systems in Europe, especially in Poland, where a nearly $5 billion missile contract was agreed to this year, empowered the most hawkish wing of the Kremlin, guaranteeing just the sort of Russian build-up that has indeed occurred. If present Russian intermediate-range missile deployments are in violation of the INF Treaty, they did not happen in a vacuum.
Barack Obama, of course, won the Nobel Peace Prize in the early moments of his presidency for his vision of a nuclear-weapons-free world, yet not even he could curb the malevolent influence of nuclear planning in the Pentagon and elsewhere in Washington. To get approval of the 2010 New START Treaty, which was to further reduce the total number of strategic warheads and launchers on both sides, from the Republican Senate, the Peace Laureate president had to agree to an $80 billion renewal of America's existing nuclear arsenal just when it was ripe for a fuller dismantling. That devil's bargain with Washington's diehard nuclear hawks further empowered Russia's similarly hawkish militarists.
All of this reflects a pattern established relatively early in the Cold War years. U.S. arms escalations in that era -- from the long-range bomber and the hydrogen bomb to the nuclear-armed submarine and the cruise missile to the "high frontier" of space -- inevitably prompted the Kremlin to follow in lockstep (and these days, you would need to add the Chineseinto the equation as well). Americans should recall that, since August 6, 1945, the ratcheting up of nuclear weapons competition has always begun in Washington. And so it has again.
By the time the Obama administration left office, the Defense Department was already planning to "modernize" the U.S. nuclear arsenal in a massively expensive way. Last February, with the release of the Pentagon's 2018 Nuclear Posture Review, the Trump administration committed to that arsenal's full bore reinvention, big time, to the tune of at least $1.2 trillion and possibly $1.6 trillion over the next three decades. ICBM silos only recently slated for closing will be rebuilt. There will be new generations of nuclear-armed bombers and submarines, as well as nuclear cruise missiles. There will be wholly new nuclear weapons expressly designed to be "usable." And in that context, American nuclear strategy is also being recast. For the first time, the United States is now explicitly threatening to launch those "usable" weapons in response to non-nuclear assaults.
The surviving lynchpin of arms control is that New START Treaty that mattered so to Obama in 2010. It capped deployed strategic nuclear warheads at 1,550 and implied that there would be further reductions to come. It must, however, be renewed in 2021. Trump is already on record calling it a bad deal, but he may not have to wait until possible reelection in 2020 to do it in. His INF Treaty abrogation might do the trick first. Limits on long-range strategic missiles may not survive the pressures that are sure to follow an arms race involving the intermediate variety.
No less worrisome, the Trump administration's fervent support for the Pentagon's modernization, and so reinvention, of the American nuclear arsenal amounts to a blatant violation of the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, which required nuclear powers to work toward "the cessation of the nuclear arms race at an early date." The president's explicit desire to maintain an ever more lethal nuclear arsenal into the indefinite future violates that requirement and will certainly undermine that treaty, too.
It's no exaggeration to say that those arms control treaties, taken together, probably saved the world from a nuclear Armageddon. President Trump's cavalier and supremely ignorant readiness to walk away from America's most solemn international commitments should offer us all a grim reminder of just how precious that nuclear weapons treaty regime has been. The most decisive covenant of all was the 1987 INF Treaty, which demonstrated that nuclear reductions are possible, and that the movement toward nuclear abolition is, too. The INF Treaty was the pin that has held the mechanism of hope together all these years. Now, our nihilistic president has pulled the pin, apparently mistaking that structure of human survival for a grenade, sure to blow.
Donald Trump’s attacks on democracy, justice, and a free press are escalating — putting everything we stand for at risk. We believe a better world is possible, but we can’t get there without your support. Common Dreams stands apart. We answer only to you — our readers, activists, and changemakers — not to billionaires or corporations. Our independence allows us to cover the vital stories that others won’t, spotlighting movements for peace, equality, and human rights. Right now, our work faces unprecedented challenges. Misinformation is spreading, journalists are under attack, and financial pressures are mounting. As a reader-supported, nonprofit newsroom, your support is crucial to keep this journalism alive. Whatever you can give — $10, $25, or $100 — helps us stay strong and responsive when the world needs us most. Together, we’ll continue to build the independent, courageous journalism our movement relies on. Thank you for being part of this community. |
It was only an announcement, but think of it as the beginning of a journey into hell. Last week, President Donald Trump made public his decision to abrogate the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty (INF), a 1987 agreement with the Soviet Union. National Security Advisor John Bolton, a Cold Warrior in a post-Cold War world, promptly flaunted that announcement on a trip to Vladimir Putin's Moscow. To grasp the import of that decision, however, quite another kind of voyage is necessary, a trip down memory lane.
That 1987 pact between Moscow and Washington was no small thing in a world that, during the Cuban Missile Crisis only 25 years earlier, had reached the edge of nuclear Armageddon. The INF Treaty led to the elimination of thousands of nuclear weapons, but its significance went far beyond that. As a start, it closed the books on the nightmare of a Europe caught between the world-ending strategies of the two superpowers, since most of those "intermediate-range" missiles were targeting that very continent. No wonder, last week, a European Union spokesperson, responding to Trump, fervently defended the treaty as a permanent "pillar" of international order.
To take that trip back three decades in time and remember how the INF came about should be an instant reminder of just how President Trump is playing havoc with something essential to human survival.
In October 1986 in Reykjavik, Iceland, the leaders of the United States and the Soviet Union, Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, briefly came close to fully freeing the planet from the horrifying prospect of nuclear annihilation. In his second inaugural address, a year and a half earlier, President Reagan had wishfully called for "the total elimination" of nuclear weapons. At that Reykjavik summit, Gorbachev, a pathbreaking Soviet leader, promptly took the president up on that dream, proposing -- to the dismay of the aides of both leaders -- a total nuclear disarmament pact that would take effect in the year 2000.
Reagan promptly agreed in principle. "Suits me fine," he said. "That's always been my goal." But it didn't happen. Reagan had another dream, too -- of a space-based missile defense system against just such weaponry, the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), also dubbed "Star Wars." He refused to yield on the subject when Gorbachev rejected SDI as the superpower arms race transferred into space. "This meeting is over," Reagan then said.
Of the failure of Reykjavik, Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze would then comment: "When future generations read the transcripts of this meeting, they will not forgive us." At that point, the nuclear arsenals of the U.S. and the USSR had hit a combined 60,000 weapons and were still growing. (Five new American nuclear weapons were being added each day.) A month after Reykjavik, in fact, the U.S. deployed a new B-52-based cruise missile system in violation of the 1979 SALT II Treaty. Hawks in Moscow were pressing for similar escalations. Elites on both sides -- weapons manufacturers, intelligence and political establishments, think tanks, military bureaucracies, and pundits -- were appalled at what the two leaders had almost agreed to. The national security priesthood, East and West, wanted to maintain what was termed "the stability of the strategic stalemate," even if such stability, based on ever-expanding arsenals, could not have been less stable.
But a widespread popular longing for relief from four decades of nuclear dread had been growing on both sides of the Iron Curtain. In a surge of anti-nuclear activism, millions of ordinary citizens took to the streets of cities in the U.S. and Europe to protest the superpower nuclear establishments. Even behind the Iron Curtain, voices for peace could be heard. "Listen," Gorbachev pleaded after Reykjavik, "to the demands of the American people, the Soviet people, the peoples of all countries."
A Watershed Treaty
As it happened, the Soviet leader refused to settle for Reagan's no. Four months after the Iceland summit, he proposed an agreement "without delay" to remove from Europe all intermediate missiles -- those with a range well under that of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). When Pentagon officials tried to swat Gorbachev's proposal aside by claiming that there could be no such agreement without on-site inspections, he said fine, inspect away! That was an unprecedented concession from the Soviet Union.
President Reagan was surrounded by men like then-Assistant Secretary of StatePaul Wolfowitz (later to become infamous for his role in promoting a post-9/11 invasion of Iraq), who assumed Gorbachev was a typical Soviet "master of deceit." But for all his hawkishness, the president had other instincts as well. Events would show that, on the subject of nukes (SDI notwithstanding), Reagan had indeed recognized the threat to the human future posed by the open-ended accumulation of ever more of those weapons and had become a kind of nuclear abolitionist. Even if ending that threat was inconceivable to him, his desire to mitigate it would prove genuine.
At the time, however, Reagan had other problems to deal with. Just as Gorbachev put forward his surprising initiative, the American president found himself engulfed in the Iran-Contra scandal -- a criminal conspiracy to trade arms for hostages with Iran, while illegally aiding right-wing paramilitaries in Central America. It threatened to become his Watergate. It would, in the end, lead to the indictments of 14 members of his administration. Beleaguered, he desperately wanted to change the subject. A statesman-like rescue of faltering arms-control negotiations might prove just the helping hand he was looking for. So the day before he went on television to abjectly offer repentance for Iran-Contra, he announced that he would accept Gorbachev's INF proposal. His hawkish inner circle was thoroughly disgusted by the gesture. Secretary of Defense Casper Weinberger promptly resigned in protest. (He would later be indicted for Iran-Contra.)
On December 8, 1987, Reagan and Gorbachev would indeed meet in Washington and sign the INF Treaty, eliminating more than 2,000 ground-based warheads and giving Europe the reprieve its people had wanted. This would be the first actual reduction in nuclear weapons to occur since two atomic bombs were built at Los Alamos in 1945. The INF Treaty proved historic for turning back the tide of escalation. It showed that the arms race could be not just frozen but reversed, that negotiations could lead the two superpowers out of what seemed like the ultimate impasse -- a model that should be urgently applicable today.
In reality, the mutually reinforcing hair-trigger nuclear posture of the United States and the Soviet Union was not much altered by the treaty, since only land-based, not air- and submarine-launched missiles, were affected by it and longer range ICBMs were off the table. (Still, Europe could breathe a bit easier, even if, in operational terms, nuclear danger had not been much reduced.) Yet that treaty would prove a turning point, opening the way to a better future. It would be essential to the political transformation that quickly followed, the wholly unpredicted and surprisingly non-violent end to the Cold War that arrived not quite two years later. The treaty showed that the arms race itself could be ended -- and eventually, it nearly would be. That is the lesson that somehow needs to be preserved in the Trump era.
A Man for All Apocalypses
In reality, the Trump administration's abandonment of the INF Treaty has little to do with the actual deployment of intermediate-range missiles, whether those that the Pentagon may now seek to emplace in Europe or those apparently already being put in place in Russia. In truth, such nuclear firepower will not add much to what submarine- and air-launched cruise missiles can already do. As for Vladimir Putin's bellicosity, removing the restraints on arms control will only magnify the Russian leader's threatening behavior. However, it should be clear by now that Donald Trump's urge to trash the treaty comes from his own bellicosity, not from Russian (or, for that matter, Chinese) aggressiveness. Trump seems to deplore the pact precisely because of what it meant to Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, as well as to the millions who cheered them on long ago: its repudiation of an apocalyptic future. (As his position on climate change indicates, the president is visibly a man for all apocalypses.)
Trump has launched a second nuclear age by rejecting the treaty that was meant to initiate the closing of the first one. The arms race was then slowed, but, alas, the competitors stumbled on through the end of the Cold War. Shutting that arms-contest down completely remained an unfinished task, in part because the dynamic of weapons reduction proved so reversible even before Donald Trump made it into the Oval Office. George W. Bush, for instance, struck a blow against arms control with his 2002 abrogation of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, which rekindled Reagan's Star Wars fantasy. The way Washington subsequently promoted missile defense systems in Europe, especially in Poland, where a nearly $5 billion missile contract was agreed to this year, empowered the most hawkish wing of the Kremlin, guaranteeing just the sort of Russian build-up that has indeed occurred. If present Russian intermediate-range missile deployments are in violation of the INF Treaty, they did not happen in a vacuum.
Barack Obama, of course, won the Nobel Peace Prize in the early moments of his presidency for his vision of a nuclear-weapons-free world, yet not even he could curb the malevolent influence of nuclear planning in the Pentagon and elsewhere in Washington. To get approval of the 2010 New START Treaty, which was to further reduce the total number of strategic warheads and launchers on both sides, from the Republican Senate, the Peace Laureate president had to agree to an $80 billion renewal of America's existing nuclear arsenal just when it was ripe for a fuller dismantling. That devil's bargain with Washington's diehard nuclear hawks further empowered Russia's similarly hawkish militarists.
All of this reflects a pattern established relatively early in the Cold War years. U.S. arms escalations in that era -- from the long-range bomber and the hydrogen bomb to the nuclear-armed submarine and the cruise missile to the "high frontier" of space -- inevitably prompted the Kremlin to follow in lockstep (and these days, you would need to add the Chineseinto the equation as well). Americans should recall that, since August 6, 1945, the ratcheting up of nuclear weapons competition has always begun in Washington. And so it has again.
By the time the Obama administration left office, the Defense Department was already planning to "modernize" the U.S. nuclear arsenal in a massively expensive way. Last February, with the release of the Pentagon's 2018 Nuclear Posture Review, the Trump administration committed to that arsenal's full bore reinvention, big time, to the tune of at least $1.2 trillion and possibly $1.6 trillion over the next three decades. ICBM silos only recently slated for closing will be rebuilt. There will be new generations of nuclear-armed bombers and submarines, as well as nuclear cruise missiles. There will be wholly new nuclear weapons expressly designed to be "usable." And in that context, American nuclear strategy is also being recast. For the first time, the United States is now explicitly threatening to launch those "usable" weapons in response to non-nuclear assaults.
The surviving lynchpin of arms control is that New START Treaty that mattered so to Obama in 2010. It capped deployed strategic nuclear warheads at 1,550 and implied that there would be further reductions to come. It must, however, be renewed in 2021. Trump is already on record calling it a bad deal, but he may not have to wait until possible reelection in 2020 to do it in. His INF Treaty abrogation might do the trick first. Limits on long-range strategic missiles may not survive the pressures that are sure to follow an arms race involving the intermediate variety.
No less worrisome, the Trump administration's fervent support for the Pentagon's modernization, and so reinvention, of the American nuclear arsenal amounts to a blatant violation of the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, which required nuclear powers to work toward "the cessation of the nuclear arms race at an early date." The president's explicit desire to maintain an ever more lethal nuclear arsenal into the indefinite future violates that requirement and will certainly undermine that treaty, too.
It's no exaggeration to say that those arms control treaties, taken together, probably saved the world from a nuclear Armageddon. President Trump's cavalier and supremely ignorant readiness to walk away from America's most solemn international commitments should offer us all a grim reminder of just how precious that nuclear weapons treaty regime has been. The most decisive covenant of all was the 1987 INF Treaty, which demonstrated that nuclear reductions are possible, and that the movement toward nuclear abolition is, too. The INF Treaty was the pin that has held the mechanism of hope together all these years. Now, our nihilistic president has pulled the pin, apparently mistaking that structure of human survival for a grenade, sure to blow.
It was only an announcement, but think of it as the beginning of a journey into hell. Last week, President Donald Trump made public his decision to abrogate the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty (INF), a 1987 agreement with the Soviet Union. National Security Advisor John Bolton, a Cold Warrior in a post-Cold War world, promptly flaunted that announcement on a trip to Vladimir Putin's Moscow. To grasp the import of that decision, however, quite another kind of voyage is necessary, a trip down memory lane.
That 1987 pact between Moscow and Washington was no small thing in a world that, during the Cuban Missile Crisis only 25 years earlier, had reached the edge of nuclear Armageddon. The INF Treaty led to the elimination of thousands of nuclear weapons, but its significance went far beyond that. As a start, it closed the books on the nightmare of a Europe caught between the world-ending strategies of the two superpowers, since most of those "intermediate-range" missiles were targeting that very continent. No wonder, last week, a European Union spokesperson, responding to Trump, fervently defended the treaty as a permanent "pillar" of international order.
To take that trip back three decades in time and remember how the INF came about should be an instant reminder of just how President Trump is playing havoc with something essential to human survival.
In October 1986 in Reykjavik, Iceland, the leaders of the United States and the Soviet Union, Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, briefly came close to fully freeing the planet from the horrifying prospect of nuclear annihilation. In his second inaugural address, a year and a half earlier, President Reagan had wishfully called for "the total elimination" of nuclear weapons. At that Reykjavik summit, Gorbachev, a pathbreaking Soviet leader, promptly took the president up on that dream, proposing -- to the dismay of the aides of both leaders -- a total nuclear disarmament pact that would take effect in the year 2000.
Reagan promptly agreed in principle. "Suits me fine," he said. "That's always been my goal." But it didn't happen. Reagan had another dream, too -- of a space-based missile defense system against just such weaponry, the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI), also dubbed "Star Wars." He refused to yield on the subject when Gorbachev rejected SDI as the superpower arms race transferred into space. "This meeting is over," Reagan then said.
Of the failure of Reykjavik, Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze would then comment: "When future generations read the transcripts of this meeting, they will not forgive us." At that point, the nuclear arsenals of the U.S. and the USSR had hit a combined 60,000 weapons and were still growing. (Five new American nuclear weapons were being added each day.) A month after Reykjavik, in fact, the U.S. deployed a new B-52-based cruise missile system in violation of the 1979 SALT II Treaty. Hawks in Moscow were pressing for similar escalations. Elites on both sides -- weapons manufacturers, intelligence and political establishments, think tanks, military bureaucracies, and pundits -- were appalled at what the two leaders had almost agreed to. The national security priesthood, East and West, wanted to maintain what was termed "the stability of the strategic stalemate," even if such stability, based on ever-expanding arsenals, could not have been less stable.
But a widespread popular longing for relief from four decades of nuclear dread had been growing on both sides of the Iron Curtain. In a surge of anti-nuclear activism, millions of ordinary citizens took to the streets of cities in the U.S. and Europe to protest the superpower nuclear establishments. Even behind the Iron Curtain, voices for peace could be heard. "Listen," Gorbachev pleaded after Reykjavik, "to the demands of the American people, the Soviet people, the peoples of all countries."
A Watershed Treaty
As it happened, the Soviet leader refused to settle for Reagan's no. Four months after the Iceland summit, he proposed an agreement "without delay" to remove from Europe all intermediate missiles -- those with a range well under that of intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). When Pentagon officials tried to swat Gorbachev's proposal aside by claiming that there could be no such agreement without on-site inspections, he said fine, inspect away! That was an unprecedented concession from the Soviet Union.
President Reagan was surrounded by men like then-Assistant Secretary of StatePaul Wolfowitz (later to become infamous for his role in promoting a post-9/11 invasion of Iraq), who assumed Gorbachev was a typical Soviet "master of deceit." But for all his hawkishness, the president had other instincts as well. Events would show that, on the subject of nukes (SDI notwithstanding), Reagan had indeed recognized the threat to the human future posed by the open-ended accumulation of ever more of those weapons and had become a kind of nuclear abolitionist. Even if ending that threat was inconceivable to him, his desire to mitigate it would prove genuine.
At the time, however, Reagan had other problems to deal with. Just as Gorbachev put forward his surprising initiative, the American president found himself engulfed in the Iran-Contra scandal -- a criminal conspiracy to trade arms for hostages with Iran, while illegally aiding right-wing paramilitaries in Central America. It threatened to become his Watergate. It would, in the end, lead to the indictments of 14 members of his administration. Beleaguered, he desperately wanted to change the subject. A statesman-like rescue of faltering arms-control negotiations might prove just the helping hand he was looking for. So the day before he went on television to abjectly offer repentance for Iran-Contra, he announced that he would accept Gorbachev's INF proposal. His hawkish inner circle was thoroughly disgusted by the gesture. Secretary of Defense Casper Weinberger promptly resigned in protest. (He would later be indicted for Iran-Contra.)
On December 8, 1987, Reagan and Gorbachev would indeed meet in Washington and sign the INF Treaty, eliminating more than 2,000 ground-based warheads and giving Europe the reprieve its people had wanted. This would be the first actual reduction in nuclear weapons to occur since two atomic bombs were built at Los Alamos in 1945. The INF Treaty proved historic for turning back the tide of escalation. It showed that the arms race could be not just frozen but reversed, that negotiations could lead the two superpowers out of what seemed like the ultimate impasse -- a model that should be urgently applicable today.
In reality, the mutually reinforcing hair-trigger nuclear posture of the United States and the Soviet Union was not much altered by the treaty, since only land-based, not air- and submarine-launched missiles, were affected by it and longer range ICBMs were off the table. (Still, Europe could breathe a bit easier, even if, in operational terms, nuclear danger had not been much reduced.) Yet that treaty would prove a turning point, opening the way to a better future. It would be essential to the political transformation that quickly followed, the wholly unpredicted and surprisingly non-violent end to the Cold War that arrived not quite two years later. The treaty showed that the arms race itself could be ended -- and eventually, it nearly would be. That is the lesson that somehow needs to be preserved in the Trump era.
A Man for All Apocalypses
In reality, the Trump administration's abandonment of the INF Treaty has little to do with the actual deployment of intermediate-range missiles, whether those that the Pentagon may now seek to emplace in Europe or those apparently already being put in place in Russia. In truth, such nuclear firepower will not add much to what submarine- and air-launched cruise missiles can already do. As for Vladimir Putin's bellicosity, removing the restraints on arms control will only magnify the Russian leader's threatening behavior. However, it should be clear by now that Donald Trump's urge to trash the treaty comes from his own bellicosity, not from Russian (or, for that matter, Chinese) aggressiveness. Trump seems to deplore the pact precisely because of what it meant to Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, as well as to the millions who cheered them on long ago: its repudiation of an apocalyptic future. (As his position on climate change indicates, the president is visibly a man for all apocalypses.)
Trump has launched a second nuclear age by rejecting the treaty that was meant to initiate the closing of the first one. The arms race was then slowed, but, alas, the competitors stumbled on through the end of the Cold War. Shutting that arms-contest down completely remained an unfinished task, in part because the dynamic of weapons reduction proved so reversible even before Donald Trump made it into the Oval Office. George W. Bush, for instance, struck a blow against arms control with his 2002 abrogation of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty, which rekindled Reagan's Star Wars fantasy. The way Washington subsequently promoted missile defense systems in Europe, especially in Poland, where a nearly $5 billion missile contract was agreed to this year, empowered the most hawkish wing of the Kremlin, guaranteeing just the sort of Russian build-up that has indeed occurred. If present Russian intermediate-range missile deployments are in violation of the INF Treaty, they did not happen in a vacuum.
Barack Obama, of course, won the Nobel Peace Prize in the early moments of his presidency for his vision of a nuclear-weapons-free world, yet not even he could curb the malevolent influence of nuclear planning in the Pentagon and elsewhere in Washington. To get approval of the 2010 New START Treaty, which was to further reduce the total number of strategic warheads and launchers on both sides, from the Republican Senate, the Peace Laureate president had to agree to an $80 billion renewal of America's existing nuclear arsenal just when it was ripe for a fuller dismantling. That devil's bargain with Washington's diehard nuclear hawks further empowered Russia's similarly hawkish militarists.
All of this reflects a pattern established relatively early in the Cold War years. U.S. arms escalations in that era -- from the long-range bomber and the hydrogen bomb to the nuclear-armed submarine and the cruise missile to the "high frontier" of space -- inevitably prompted the Kremlin to follow in lockstep (and these days, you would need to add the Chineseinto the equation as well). Americans should recall that, since August 6, 1945, the ratcheting up of nuclear weapons competition has always begun in Washington. And so it has again.
By the time the Obama administration left office, the Defense Department was already planning to "modernize" the U.S. nuclear arsenal in a massively expensive way. Last February, with the release of the Pentagon's 2018 Nuclear Posture Review, the Trump administration committed to that arsenal's full bore reinvention, big time, to the tune of at least $1.2 trillion and possibly $1.6 trillion over the next three decades. ICBM silos only recently slated for closing will be rebuilt. There will be new generations of nuclear-armed bombers and submarines, as well as nuclear cruise missiles. There will be wholly new nuclear weapons expressly designed to be "usable." And in that context, American nuclear strategy is also being recast. For the first time, the United States is now explicitly threatening to launch those "usable" weapons in response to non-nuclear assaults.
The surviving lynchpin of arms control is that New START Treaty that mattered so to Obama in 2010. It capped deployed strategic nuclear warheads at 1,550 and implied that there would be further reductions to come. It must, however, be renewed in 2021. Trump is already on record calling it a bad deal, but he may not have to wait until possible reelection in 2020 to do it in. His INF Treaty abrogation might do the trick first. Limits on long-range strategic missiles may not survive the pressures that are sure to follow an arms race involving the intermediate variety.
No less worrisome, the Trump administration's fervent support for the Pentagon's modernization, and so reinvention, of the American nuclear arsenal amounts to a blatant violation of the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, which required nuclear powers to work toward "the cessation of the nuclear arms race at an early date." The president's explicit desire to maintain an ever more lethal nuclear arsenal into the indefinite future violates that requirement and will certainly undermine that treaty, too.
It's no exaggeration to say that those arms control treaties, taken together, probably saved the world from a nuclear Armageddon. President Trump's cavalier and supremely ignorant readiness to walk away from America's most solemn international commitments should offer us all a grim reminder of just how precious that nuclear weapons treaty regime has been. The most decisive covenant of all was the 1987 INF Treaty, which demonstrated that nuclear reductions are possible, and that the movement toward nuclear abolition is, too. The INF Treaty was the pin that has held the mechanism of hope together all these years. Now, our nihilistic president has pulled the pin, apparently mistaking that structure of human survival for a grenade, sure to blow.
The senator said the negotiations could be "a positive step forward" after three and a half years of war.
Echoing the concerns of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and European leaders about an upcoming summit between U.S. President Donald Trump and Russian President Vladimir Putin, Sen. Bernie Sanders on Sunday said the interests of Ukrainians must be represented in any talks regarding an end to the fighting between the two countries—but expressed hope that the negotiations planned for August 15 will be "a positive step forward."
On CNN's "State of the Union," Sanders (I-Vt.) told anchor Dana Bash that Ukraine "has got to be part of the discussion" regarding a potential cease-fire between Russia and Ukraine, which Putin said last week he would agree to in exchange for major land concessions in Eastern Ukraine.
Putin reportedly proposed a deal in which Ukraine would withdraw its armed forces from the Donetsk and Luhansk regions, giving Russia full control of the two areas along with Crimea, which it annexed in 2014.
On Friday, Trump said a peace deal could include "some swapping of territories"—but did not mention potential security guarantees for Ukraine, or what territories the country might gain control of—and announced that talks had been scheduled between the White House and Putin in Alaska this coming Friday.
As Trump announced the meeting, a deadline he had set earlier for Putin to agree to a cease-fire or face "secondary sanctions" targeting countries that buy oil from Russia passed.
Zelenskyy on Saturday rejected the suggestion that Ukraine would accept any deal brokered by the U.S. and Russia without the input of his government—especially one that includes land concessions. In a video statement on the social media platform X, Zelenskyy said that "Ukraine is ready for real decisions that can bring peace."
"Any decisions that are against us, any decisions that are without Ukraine, are at the same time decisions against peace," he said. "Ukrainians will not give their land to the occupier."
Sanders on Sunday agreed that "it can't be Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump" deciding the terms of a peace deal to end the war that the United Nations says has killed more than 13,000 Ukrainian civilians since Russia began its invasion in February 2022.
"If in fact an agreement can be negotiated which does not compromise what the Ukrainians feel they need, I think that's a positive step forward. We all want to see an end to the bloodshed," said Sanders. "The people of Ukraine obviously have got to have a significant say. It is their country, so if the people of Ukraine feel it is a positive agreement, that's good. If not, that's another story."
A senior White House official told NewsNation that the president is "open to a trilateral summit with both leaders."
"Right now, the White House is planning the bilateral meeting requested by President Putin," they said.
On Saturday, Vice President JD Vance took part in talks with European Union and Ukrainian officials in the United Kingdom, where Andriy Yermak, head of the Office of the President in Ukraine, said the country's positions were made "clear: a reliable, lasting peace is only possible with Ukraine at the negotiating table, with full respect for our sovereignty and without recognizing the occupation."
European leaders pushed for the inclusion of Zelenskyy in talks in a statement Saturday, saying Ukraine's vital interests "include the need for robust and credible security guarantees that enable Ukraine to effectively defend its sovereignty and territorial integrity."
"Meaningful negotiations can only take place in the context of a cease-fire or reduction of hostilities," said the leaders, including French President Emmanuel Macron, German Cancellor Friedrich Merz, and U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer. "The path to peace in Ukraine cannot be decided without Ukraine. We remain committed to the principle that international borders must not be changed by force."
At the Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft, British journalist and analyst Anatol Lieven wrote Saturday that the talks scheduled for next week are "an essential first step" toward ending the bloodshed in Ukraine, even though they include proposed land concessions that would be "painful" for Kyiv.
If Ukraine were to ultimately agree to ceding land to Russia, said Lieven, "Russia will need drastically to scale back its demands for Ukrainian 'denazification' and 'demilitarization,' which in their extreme form would mean Ukrainian regime change and disarmament—which no government in Kyiv could or should accept."
A recent Gallup poll showed 69% of Ukrainians now favor a negotiated end to the war as soon as possible. In 2022, more than 70% believed the country should continue fighting until it achieved victory.
Suleiman Al-Obeid was killed by the Israel Defense Forces while seeking humanitarian aid.
Mohamed Salah, the Egyptian soccer star who plays for Liverpool's Premiere League club and serves as captain of Egypt's national team, had three questions for the Union of European Football Associations on Saturday after the governing body acknowledged the death of another venerated former player.
"Can you tell us how he died, where, and why?" asked Salah in response to the UEFA's vague tribute to Suleiman Al-Obeid, who was nicknamed the "Palestinian Pelé" during his career with the Palestinian National Team.
The soccer organization had written a simple 21-word "farewell" message to Al-Obeid, calling him "a talent who gave hope to countless children, even in the darkest of times."
The UEFA made no mention of reports from the Palestine Football Association that Al-Obeid last week became one of the nearly 1,400 Palestinians who have been killed while seeking aid since the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), an Israel- and U.S.-backed, privatized organization, began operating aid hubs in Gaza.
As with the Israel Defense Forces' killings of aid workers and bombings of so-called "safe zones" since Israel began bombarding Gaza in October 2023, the IDF has claimed its killings of Palestinians seeking desperately-needed food have been inadvertent—but Israeli soldiers themselves have described being ordered to shoot at civilians who approach the aid sites.
Salah has been an outspoken advocate for Palestinians since Israel began its attacks, which have killed more than 61,000 people, and imposed a near-total blockade that has caused an "unfolding" famine, according to the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification. At least 217 Palestinians have now starved to death, including at least 100 children.
The Peace and Justice Project, founded by British Parliament member Jeremy Corbyn, applauded Salah's criticism of UEFA.
The Palestine Football Association released a statement saying, "Former national team player and star of the Khadamat al-Shati team, Suleiman Al-Obeid, was martyred after the occupation forces targeted those waiting for humanitarian aid in the southern Gaza Strip on Wednesday."
Al-Obeid represented the Palestinian team 24 times internationally and scored a famous goal against Yemen's National Team in the East Asian Federation's 2010 cup.
He is survived by his wife and five children, Al Jazeera reported.
Bassil Mikdadi, the founder of Football Palestine, told the outlet that he was surprised the UEFA acknowledged Al-Obeid's killing at all, considering the silence of international soccer federations regarding Israel's assault on Gaza, which is the subject of a genocide case at the International Court of Justice and has been called a genocide by numerous Holocaust scholars and human rights groups.
As Jules Boykoff wrote in a column at Common Dreams in June, the International Federation of Association Football (FIFA) has mostly "looked the other way when it comes to Israel's attacks on Palestinians," and although the group joined the UEFA in expressing solidarity with Ukrainian players and civilians when Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, "no such solidarity has been forthcoming for Palestinians."
Mikdadi noted that Al-Obeid "is not the first Palestinian footballer to perish in this genocide—there's been over 400—but he's by far the most prominent as of now."
Al-Obeid was killed days before Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu approved a plan to take over Gaza City—believed to be the first step in the eventual occupation of all of Gaza.
The United Nations Security Council was holding an emergency meeting Sunday to discuss Israel's move, with U.N. Assistant Secretary-General for Europe, Central Asia, and the Americas Miroslav Jenca warning the council that a full takeover would risk "igniting another horrific chapter in this conflict."
"We are already witnessing a humanitarian catastrophe of unimaginable scale in Gaza," said Jenca. "If these plans are implemented, they will likely trigger another calamity in Gaza, reverberating across the region and causing further forced displacement, killings, and destruction, compounding the unbearable suffering of the population."
"Whoever said West Virginia was a conservative state?" Sanders asked the crowd in Wheeling. "Somebody got it wrong."
On the latest leg of his Fighting Oligarchy Tour, U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders headed to West Virginia for rallies on Friday and Saturday where he continued to speak out against the billionaire class's control over the political system and the Republican Party's cuts to healthcare, food assistance, and other social programs for millions of Americans—and prove that his message resonates with working people even in solidly red districts.
"Whoever said West Virginia was a conservative state?" Sanders (I-Vt.) asked a roaring, standing-room-only crowd at the Capitol Theater in Wheeling. "Somebody got it wrong."
As the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported, some in the crowd sported red bandanas around their necks—a nod to the state's long history of labor organizing and the thousands of coal mine workers who formed a multiracial coalition in 1921 and marched wearing bandanas for the right to join a union with fair pay and safety protections.
Sanders spoke to the crowd about how President Donald Trump's One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which was supported by all five Republican lawmakers who represent the districts Sanders is visiting this weekend, could impact their families and neighbors.
"Fifteen million Americans, including 50,000 right here in West Virginia, are going to lose their healthcare," Sanders said of the Medicaid cuts that are projected to amount to more than $1 trillion over the next decade. "Cuts to nutrition—literally taking food out of the mouths of hungry kids."
Seven hospitals are expected to shut down in the state as a result of the law's Medicaid cuts, and 84,000 West Virginians will lose Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits, according to estimates.
Sanders continued his West Virginia tour with a stop in the small town of Lenore on Saturday afternoon and was scheduled to address a crowd in Charleston Saturday evening before heading to North Carolina for more rallies on Sunday.
The event in Lenore was a town hall, where the senator heard from residents of the area—which Trump won with 74% of the vote in 2024. Anna Bahr, Sanders' communications director, said more than 400 people came to hear the senator speak—equivalent to about a third of Lenore's population.
Sanders invited one young attendee on stage after she asked how Trump's domestic policy law's cuts to education are likely to affect poverty rates in West Virginia, which are some of the highest in the nation.
The One Big Beautiful Bill Act includes a federal voucher program which education advocates warn will further drain funding from public schools, and the loss of Medicaid funding for states could lead to staff cuts in K-12 schools. The law also impacts higher education, imposing new limits for federal student loans.
"Sometimes I am attacked by my opponents for being far-left, fringe, out of touch with where America is," said Sanders. "Actually, much of what I talk about is exactly where America is... You are living in the wealthiest country in the history of the world, and if we had good policy and the courage to take on the billionaire class, there is no reason that every kid in this country could not get an excellent higher education, regardless of his or her income. That is not a radical idea."
Sanders' events scheduled for Sunday in North Carolina include a rally at 2:00 pm ET at the Steven Tanger Center for the Performing Arts in Greensboro and one at 6:00 pm ET at the Harrah Cherokee Center in Asheville.