Opinion | Iran’s Nuclear Quest: Legal Violation, Moral Hypocrisy or Just Strategy?
On June 13, 2025, the Israeli Air Force carried out a series of strikes targeting Iran’s nuclear program, which, according to the Israeli government, poses a direct threat to its existence. A week later, the United States followed up with precision airstrikes on key Iranian nuclear facilities, including Natanz, Fordow, and Isfahan—an operation Washington described as a significant blow to Tehran’s nuclear capabilities. While these attacks were also motivated by broader concerns about the nature of the Iranian regime and its involvement in the war in Gaza, they nonetheless force us to confront a deeper question: why is it wrong for Iran to pursue a military nuclear capability?
This is a decades-old question. For over twenty years, Iran has been caught in a cycle of uranium enrichment, international sanctions, diplomatic breakdowns, and covert sabotage. And yet, both the United States and Israel, the fiercest opponents of a nuclear Iran, possess nuclear arsenals of their own, often crediting the need to preserve peace through deterrence. So, what makes Iran different? Why is it acceptable for some countries to possess nuclear weapons while others are prevented from doing so? Rather than arguing for or against a nuclear Iran, examining the competing legal, strategic, and ethical frameworks that shape our consideration of nuclear proliferation may offer a more enriching conversation.
This nuclear dilemma can first be analyzed through the lens of international law, which emphasizes norms and cooperation. The question is then: is it legal for Iran to have a military nuclear capacity? The answer, in legal terms, is straightforward: no, it is not. Two major agreements shape this legal framework: the Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), signed in 1968, and the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), solidified in 2015. The NPT prohibits non-nuclear-weapon states from developing or acquiring nuclear weapons, while committing nuclear-armed states to pursue eventual disarmament. The JCPOA is a commitment for Iran not to pursue the militarized use of nuclear energy in exchange for sanctions relief from the US and European powers.
Viewed through this lens, Iran clearly violates its commitments. As of 2025, its uranium enrichment levels had reached 60 per cent, far beyond the 3.67 per cent limit set by the JCPOA. But that logic falters when the actors setting these norms fail to abide by their own disarmament obligations. In 2018, US President Donald Trump reimposed heavy sanctions on Iran and pulled the United States out of the JCPOA, undermining the agreement’s legitimacy.
International law alone cannot fully explain the perceived wrongness of Iran acquiring nuclear weapons. Several countries that developed nuclear arsenals after 1968, including India, Pakistan, and Israel, simply never signed the NPT. If legal norms are to carry moral weight, they must be applied universally. When some states are allowed to ignore or avoid these norms without consequence, the distinction between legality and legitimacy becomes blurred.
To move beyond legal contradiction, we turn to strategy. Realist thinkers argue that morality and legality are often secondary to the pursuit of survival in international politics. From their perspective, states pursue nuclear weapons not because it is right, but because it is necessary for their security. Kenneth Waltz argues that Iran getting nuclear weapons might be the best possible solution for stability in the Middle East. In his controversial essay Why Iran Should Get the Bomb, Waltz claimed that a nuclear-armed Iran would restore balance in a region long dominated by Israel’s undeclared arsenal. From a realist lens, nuclear weapons aren’t moral or immoral: they’re rational. States seek survival, and deterrence works. According to this logic, Iran would have little incentive to launch a nuclear strike, knowing retaliation would be catastrophic. The threat of mutual destruction, Realists argue, has kept nuclear powers from going to war since 1945. Additionally, according to Waltz, historical records indicate that a country bent on acquiring nuclear weapons can rarely be dissuaded from doing so. The North Korean case is a perfect example of success despite sanctions. From this point of view, nuclear powers might have more interest in letting Iran pursue its security goal than in making an enemy out of a future nuclear rival.
But realists often downplay internal chaos. Political scientist Scott Sagan retorts with caution: Iran’s military command is fragmented, its political leadership divided, and its ties to non-state actors like Hezbollah raise concerns about proliferation and misuse. In his view, deterrence only works under strict conditions: rational actors, secure arsenals with credible second-strike capacity, and maintained control and command over the weapons by the state. In Iran’s case, arguably, these conditions are not met. The risk of proliferation to terrorist groups or Iran’s allies, combined with domestic political instability and ideological divides, makes the risk of accidental or unauthorized use a real and pressing concern.
This division between legal norms and strategic logic is not unique to Iran. It raises deeper questions about the entire structure of the global nuclear order. Ultimately, the deepest ethical question may not be whether Iran should get the bomb, but whether anyone should have it. Is it inherently wrong for a state like Iran to pursue nuclear weapons, or is the wrongness tied to the identity of the state itself?
To answer that, we must turn to moral philosophy. From a Kantian perspective, nuclear weapons are categorically immoral. Their indiscriminate, large-scale destruction violates the moral law stipulating that individuals must never be treated solely as means to an end. By this logic, it is not Iran having nuclear weapons that is immoral, but the existence of such weapons altogether, whether in the hands of Washington, Tel Aviv, or Tehran. Consequentialism, on the other hand, weighs consequences. Could nuclear capacity reduce net harm by deterring attacks and restoring regional balance? Possibly. But the same logic warns that even a small chance of nuclear conflict, miscalculation, or accidental launch might produce catastrophic suffering, tipping the moral scales against proliferation. This is especially relevant in Iran’s case, where internal divisions and ties to non-state actors raise additional risks.
The current system is riddled with selective morality. Nuclear-armed states argue that proliferation is unacceptable while expanding their own arsenals. As long as some nations wield ultimate destructive power, others will seek it. The moral ground for denying Iran collapses when built on double standards: “do as I say, not as I do”. Iran’s desire to acquire nuclear weapons is thus not moral, but strategic.
Ultimately, Iran’s pursuit of nuclear weapons exposes the tensions at the heart of the global nuclear order. Legal frameworks label it a violation, moral arguments point to broader hypocrisy, and strategic reasoning remains divided. Whether one sees Iran’s ambitions as a threat or a rational response to regional imbalance, the debate reflects deeper questions about who holds power, who sets the rules, and whether those rules are applied fairly.
Edited by Madeleine Glover
Featured image: This picture by Maxar Technologies, was licensed under CC0 4.0.
