In this book I have presented in-depth studies of four country cases: Iraq, China, Yugoslavia, and Argentina. I chose these historical cases due to their value for theory-testing. One of the key reasons why they were valuable was the availability of minutely detailed information on their nuclear programs’ internal dynamics. As a result, in the case study chapters we have been able to witness the multiple pathways via which nuclear weapons project efficiency can be helped or hampered by the state’s management approach, and behind that, by its institutions. This would not have been possible if I had chosen to study the “hottest” cases for the proliferation literature at present – cases such as Libya, Pakistan, North Korea, and Iran – since their internal dynamics generally remain quite shrouded in mystery.

However, now that the theory has passed a series of punishing tests, it is worth considering, in a preliminary manner, how the theory might apply to the more recent cases.

Introduction: from domestic to international variables

The basic theoretical model introduced in Chapter 2 argues that nuclear weapons project efficiency is in large measure a function of the nuclear program’s level of scientific and technical professionalism, which in turn is a function of management and, ultimately, of state institutionalization. In Chapters 3 and 4, I demonstrated the power of this model to explain both Iraq’s nuclear failure and China’s nuclear success.

In Chapters 3 and 4 I also considered the impact of international nuclear assistance, a popular alternative hypothesis to explain the two countries’ nuclear progress. I found that both states did indeed benefit from their international ties, but much less than is often claimed. Iraq’s foreign purchasing sprees on the international black market allowed it to amass a great deal of useful equipment, but its management dysfunction prevented it from making better use of that equipment, and its increasingly wanton international procurement strategy ended up imperiling whatever progress it had been able to make. Meanwhile, China initially appeared to have hit the jackpot with its 1957 military nuclear cooperation deal with the Soviet Union, but their cooperation was soon derailed by the Sino-Soviet split, and the well-managed Chinese nuclear weapons project ended up achieving a brilliant success essentially on its own.

In the previous chapter, I examined the widespread belief that international civil nuclear cooperation policies unintentionally accelerate developing states’ achievement of their nuclear weapons ambitions. I argued that although programs of international civil nuclear cooperation can indeed accelerate the well-managed nuclear weapons projects of Weberian legal-rational states, they can do much less for – and even tend to hamper – the poorly-managed nuclear projects of neo-patrimonial states. In particular, I noted that they can strongly promote nonproliferation by facilitating the debilitating brain drain of scientific and technical workers out of the developing world.

Curiously enough, my emphasis on the nonproliferation-promoting effects of the brain drain is a novel one for the literature, which has instead focused on the proliferation risks caused by the supposed brain drain of scientific and technical talent to, not from, the developing world. Indeed, ever since the early 1990s many analysts have been captivated by the notion that former Soviet nuclear scientific and technical workers might, out of financial desperation or greed, choose to sell their services internationally to the highest bidder, thus providing the “missing link” that transforms scientifically backward countries such as Syria or Libya from mere nuclear hopefuls into real nuclear threats. The United States and other Western governments, as well as non-governmental organizations and the financier George Soros, have also been quite alive to this possibility and created a wide array of aid programs aimed at forestalling the feared potential exodus of top-flight nuclear talent to proliferant states. They have funneled well over a billion dollars to tens of thousands of post-Soviet scientific and technical workers for this specific purpose.

Policymakers typically ask intelligence analysts two standard questions about the likelihood of nuclear proliferation. First, what might cause a given state to seek the bomb? This is considered to be a “political” question. Second, if the state were to seek the bomb, how quickly could it achieve that goal? This is considered to be a “technical” question.

In this book, however, I argue that it is wrong to view the second question as a purely technical one. Political analysis is essential not merely for evaluating states’ propensity to seek nuclear weapons, but also for evaluating their capacity to achieve their nuclear weapons ambitions. For if it is difficult to get intricate centrifuge cascades to spin at high speeds for months on end, it is even more difficult to get large numbers of scientific and technical workers to tackle such challenges with the proper mix of passion and meticulousness. In other words, a crucial, yet widely overlooked determinant of efficient nuclear weapons projects is the top state leadership’s adoption of a management approach that respects scientific workers’ spirit of professionalism. But the mere fact that this is the right management approach does not mean it will be adopted. In many states, weak state institutions permit, and even encourage, top leaders to take actions that undermine that spirit of professionalism, and thereby unintentionally to thwart their own nuclear ambitions.

Preface

The basic question that animates this book is a natural complement to the question that I asked in my first book, The Psychology of Nuclear Proliferation. My first book posed the question of nuclear weapons intentions: why do some state leaders become enraptured by the idea of building the bomb, while others – most others – do not? Now, this book poses the question of nuclear weapons project implementation: why do some states achieve their leaders’ nuclear ambitions quite efficiently, while others – an increasing number in recent decades – find it a long and hard slog, and many fail to arrive at the finish line altogether?

Writing this book has been anything but a long and hard slog. In fact, it has been a highly enjoyable experience. A big reason why has been the great help that I have received along the way from many dozens of interview subjects, archivists, colleagues, and academic institutions. The USC School of International Relations is a wonderful place to work, and I am especially grateful to Linda Cole, Danielle McLaughlin, and Karen Tang, as well as to the two directors of the school since I arrived, Laurie Brand and John Odell. I have also been lucky once again to have a sterling editorial team at Cambridge University Press, including John Haslam, Josephine Lane, and Gillian Dadd. I also thank Emma Wildsmith and Gail Welsh of Out of House Publishing for going the extra mile for me at the final stages of manuscript preparation. Thanks also to Asako Takashima for her hard work on the index.

In Chapter 2, I introduced my basic theoretical explanation of nuclear weapons project efficiency as a consequence of the top leadership’s approach to management and, behind that, of the institutionalization of the state. Now, to assess the empirical value of the theory, I turn to a first in-depth historical case study: Saddam Hussein’s Iraq.

In 1991, after Iraq’s defeat in the first Gulf War, UN inspectors were shocked to discover that Saddam’s regime had mounted an intense, 10-year, billion-dollar quest for the bomb right under the nose of the IAEA. Indeed, not long before the truth came out, IAEA Director of Safeguards Jon Jennekens had even praised the country for its “exemplary” conformity to its NPT commitments. The revelations of Iraq’s misdeeds also tarnished the reputation of the US intelligence community, which turned out to have been “totally unaware of more than 50 percent of all the major nuclear weapons installations in Iraq.” This was an intelligence failure of the first order.