Slate
Saturday, July 23, 2005
India's Summer:
Will Bush's deal with Delhi unravel the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty?
By Fred Kaplan
This week, the Bush
administration pulled off the deftest geopolitical maneuver that any U.S. regime
has managed in more than a decade. Yet, with the same step, it addled the
Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty with more confusion and peril than at any time
in the accord's 35-year history.
The big move, which didn't get
nearly the banner headlines it deserved, took place on July 19, when President
George W. Bush and Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh issued a joint statement
resolving to "transform" the relationship between their two countries
and to "establish a global partnership."
The centerpiece of this grand
alliance is a U.S. pledge to provide full assistance to India's nuclear energy
sector—in short, to treat India "as a responsible state with advanced
nuclear technology" that should be allowed to "acquire the same
benefits and advantages as other such states."
At first glance, this may seem
like boilerplate, but it could hardly signal a more radical shift in policy.
Through the 1960s and '70s, India was a stalwart ally of the Soviet Union and
therefore an implacable U.S. foe. After the Cold War ended, relations warmed
somewhat, but they could only go so far as long as India remained a renegade
nuclear state. In 1974, India tested a nuclear bomb then built an arsenal of
atomic weapons. It had never signed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. As a
result, no signatory, including the United States, could supply it with any
nuclear equipment or supplies—even for civilian purposes.
In the late 1990s, President
Bill Clinton held out a package of economic and technical enticements if India
disarmed and signed the NPT. But India refused and relations cooled.
The startling thing about this
week's joint statement is that Bush has agreed to give India everything that
Clinton offered, plus some—and India gets to keep, even expand, its nuclear
arsenal.
This deal violates not just the
NPT but several U.S. laws governing nuclear exports, as well as the
international agreement underlying the Nuclear Suppliers Group, an organization
of 44 nations that follow standardized rules on importing and exporting nuclear
materials.
Changing the rules to make an
exception for one country is troublesome, awkward, and unprecedented. But is it
necessarily a bad idea?
Consider India. It is the
world's largest democracy, with a stable political system and one of the
fastest-growing economies. It is poised to be one of the century's global
powerhouses—perhaps the Asian powerhouse or, in any case, a country that could
offset the rising power of China. India is also naturally inclined toward a
partnership with America. Its people speak English; its economy is oriented
toward the U.S. market; its interests are fairly well aligned with U.S.
interests and values.
For a few years now, India's
leaders have obsessed over one issue in their discussions with U.S. officials:
that India has huge energy needs; that its big hope lies in nuclear power; that
its land is not blessed with uranium or other resources for the task; and so, it
wants the United States to help bend the rules on nonproliferation so that India
can buy nuclear materials.
In exchange for this help,
Prime Minister Singh agrees to let inspectors from the International Atomic
Energy Agency into India's civilian nuclear reactors. He will follow all IAEA
rules on "safeguarding" these facilities. He will abide by the NPT's
protocols against selling or transferring nuclear materials and technology to
other countries. As a further sweetener, he will open up India's markets not
just to American nuclear suppliers but also to a wide range of American-made
conventional weapons that were previously off limits.
So, from a strategic angle,
here is a golden opportunity to make a solid friend—a true partner—in a
region where U.S. influence has been waning. If India needs materials for
nuclear power, and if we could cement relations by supplying these materials,
why shouldn't we?
Advocates for this deal note
that, as a practical matter, India is never going to give up its nuclear
weapons. The NPT lets Russia and China—as two of the five authorized nuclear
powers (the others being the United States, France, and Britain)—import as
much nuclear material as they want. Why should India, a more stable and
democratic nation, be denied the same privilege?
At the same time, there are
several strong arguments—raised mainly by arms-control specialists—against
this peculiar arrangement. First, India has agreed to let the IAEA inspect its
civilian reactors—but not its military reactors, where it can continue to
process as much nuclear fuel and make as many nuclear bombs as it likes.
Second, if the United States
can insist on special favors for India, what is to keep Russia and China from
doing the same for Iran and Pakistan? If India claims the right to keep nuclear
arms because it is a "responsible state" of growing stature, what is
to keep Brazil or Japan from declaring similar entitlements?
The U.S.-India joint statement
draws a distinction between India and these other countries. One key passage
states:
The prime minister and the president agree that
international relations must fully reflect changes in the global scenario that
has taken place since 1945. The president restated his view that international
relations are going to have to adapt to reflect India's central and growing
role.
There is something to this
recognition. Singh wanted to push it further, proposing to Bush that India be
made a permanent member of an expanded U.N. Security Council and officially be
declared the sixth "nuclear power" under a revised NPT. Bush resisted
these extensions, for now.
But doesn't this passage—in
the context of the agreement that the two leaders did reach—reinforce the
notion that nuclear weapons are the legitimate tokens of a great power? Doesn't
it, in effect, encourage other ambitious powers in their quest for nuclear
weapons? And doesn't India's success this week at having it both ways—getting
the civilian benefits of nuclear power, which the NPT grants those who forgo the
bomb, while at the same time getting to keep its bombs—offer hope to aspiring
nuclear outlaws that, if they just hold firm, they can outlast disfavor?
Even some supporters of a new
alliance with India will wonder if Bush couldn't have squeezed out a better
deal. If Singh refused to dismantle his nuclear-weapons program, couldn't he at
least have been pressured to freeze it (perhaps in some bilateral side treaty
with Pakistan, another nuclear power that never signed the NPT) and to let the
IAEA inspect his military, as well as his civilian, reactors?
The India exemption is not a
done deal. Federal laws and international guidelines will have to be rewritten.
This means congressional hearings, floor debates, and special conclaves of the
Nuclear Suppliers Group. Bush and Singh realize this will take a while. Their
joint statement notes that the two leaders will "establish a working
group" to devise new arrangements "on a phased basis," and that
they will "review this progress when the President visits India in
2006."
It is clear to even the most
dedicated arms controllers that the NPT is fraying under the pressure of modern
technology and an increasingly anarchic international system. The world's most
rogue regime, North Korea, simply abrogated the treaty. Iran seems on its way to
acquiring the bomb by exploiting the treaty's loopholes. The NPT isn't quite
obsolete, but maybe one way to keep the nuclear genie under some control is
occasionally, unavoidably, to go outside the treaty, to cut separate deals with
various countries that have gone, or are about to go, nuclear—negotiations
with Iran, security guarantees for North Korea, a global partnership with India.