US -Iran war: Fear of China is driving the new nuclear politics

Barrack Muluka
By Barrack Muluka | Mar 08, 2026

Smoke rises from the site of an Israeli airstrike in Beirut’s southern suburbs on March 6, 2026. [AFP]

On Tuesday, the US Senate voted to regularise President Donald Trump’s war against Iran. Earlier, on Saturday, February 28, Trump began blasting Tehran without any reference to the UN or the Senate. And this, only weeks after he raided Caracas, Venezuela, and dragged away President Nicholas Maduro, to face American justice.  

Underlying all this is a complex web of geopolitical conflicts and diplomatic policy shifts. To paraphrase Karl Marx, a spectre is haunting America, the spectre of a New World Order. Fear lurks behind US masks of war against drugs, terror, nuclear weapons, dictators, and sundry moral questions. It is the fear of loss of global hegemony to a rising power. 

The US is in panic. China is rising again, after a century of humiliation (1850–1949). Not sure how to stem the tide, the White House is doing strange things. Not even traditional allies understand, let alone support, America’s new foreign policy.  

Accordingly, the world has witnessed diplomatic tensions explode into violence in the Middle East. International media have reported more than 1,000 Iranian civilian deaths in a matter of days. While Iran has launched counterattacks against US allies in the region, fringe players like Kenya have waded into the conversation with pleas for restraint.  

Do voices like President William Ruto’s point to hasty alliance signalling in matters requiring methodic reflection? In what sounds like a moderated diplomatic call to Jerusalem and Tehran to de-escalate, leaders like Ruto, in fact, crave Washington’s attention. They are saying to President Donald Trump: “We are here, for whatever we may be worth. Think of us. Treat us well. We love you.”  

They are fawning before the US. Meanwhile, the military exchanges have revived anxieties about the possibility of the Middle East once again sinking into dangerous warfare. Beneath the headlines, and discordant voices from global minions, is a deeper question: Why now, is the nuclear thing a pretense?

Dispute over Iran’s nuclear ambitions is decades old. Negotiations, sanctions, intelligence reports and diplomatic manoeuvres have ebbed and flowed over the years. What changed so suddenly, to make violent confrontation urgent?  

The answer seems to be beyond the immediate crisis and the purported triggers. It rests only in part in the wider international nuclear order, but more significantly in competition to dominate world politics and economies. Washington is losing this dominance to Beijing. She must act, and she will invade everyone, to “Make America Great Again.”

At the centre of this dominance is a moral question and a political puzzle. Some countries possess nuclear weapons. They insist that they have a right to have them, but nobody else should do the same. This nuclear apartheid is sold as necessary for global peace and security. 

The irony is glaring. If nuclear weapons are necessary for security, does the logical thing not seem to be that everyone should have their own? That way, there would be a global balance of terror, fear and peace. 

This hypocrisy drives a profoundly unequal international system, despite claims that it is stabilizing. Pawns in the game ignore the reality of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), the springboard of the imbalance. Signed in 1968, the NPT created two categories of states, relative to nuclear weapons. Five countries — the US, Russia, UK, France and China — were recognised as nuclear states. They had already tested nuclear devices by 1967, while nobody else had. Despite collective agreement on the inherent dangers of nuclear weapons, the treaty allowed those with the weapons to keep them. All other countries were forbidden from developing any of their own. 

Developing world

As compensation, the treaty offered them two promises. First, they would get access to peaceful nuclear technology for energy and research. But this technology would be exclusively developed by the five nuclear powers. Second, the nuclear powers committed themselves to eventual disarmament. 

At the optical level, the Non-Proliferation Treaty attempted to balance restraint with cooperation. At the practical level, it generated an imbalance that cannot be wished away. For many countries, the arrangement is lopsided. 

It effectively froze the nuclear hierarchy of the late 1960s. It made prefecture of non-nuclear countries a permanent feature of the global order. Finally, those with the weapons became global cops, watching over those without. Therein resides unhappiness that makes some countries defy the treaty. 

Critics, particularly in the developing world, have sometimes described this arrangement as “nuclear apartheid.” The phrase captures the perception that the system institutionalized inequality. The nations that developed nuclear weapons are guardians of a regime that forbids the same capability to others. And they act with unbridled arrogance and fiat. 

An uncomfortable philosophical question simply refuses to go away. If nuclear weapons are truly dangerous for humanity, why are they acceptable in the hands of some states but unacceptable in the hands of others? The argument often presented by nuclear powers is pragmatic, but not moral. 

Nuclear powers contend that spreading nuclear weapons to many states will dramatically increase the risk of catastrophe. More nuclear states could mean more regional arms races, more opportunities for miscalculation, and greater danger that nuclear materials might fall into the hands of extremist groups.

Yes, there is logic in this concern. The destructive power of nuclear weapons is unparalleled. Their consequences can go far beyond the battlefield. Yet, the argument is paradoxical. Nuclear accidents have nearly occurred within existing nuclear powers. These events remind us that the danger lies not only in the spread of nuclear weapons, but also in their very existence. Possession carries risk, regardless of by who.

The contradiction reveals a deeper layer of international politics as the most probable reason President Trump is taking war to every courtyard, threatening just about anyone, with Israel in tow. Simply put, it is the logic of power. Let me repeat, the logic of power. 

Global rules often reflect a convenient balance of power at the moment they are created. After the Second World War, the victorious powers dominated international institutions. These are the same powers that allowed themselves to own nuclear weapons – the United States, the United Kingdom, Russia, China, and France. They have shaped the present security order. Within the UN system, they have made themselves Permanent Members of the Security Council. 

The power of veto by any one of them will overturn resolutions  of the 193–member General Assembly. Individuals have often acted with impunity, raining bombs on other countries without approval of the Assembly, or even the Security Council. The United States is especially notorious. Israel operates outside international law, with US protection. The global nuclear regime only opens up excuses for them to prosecute other agendas. 

The ancient historian Thucydides famously observed that in international affairs “the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” Though written in the context of ancient Greece, this observation remains relevant in modern diplomacy. International norms frequently arise not from universal moral agreement but from political realities. Yet, powerful nations can still defy these norms at subsequent times, provided that it suits them.

The global nuclear order is sustained by military power and injustice. It is for this reason that those excluded from its privileges constantly question it. Against this backdrop, the present violence in the Middle East takes on a broader meaning.  

The dispute over Iran’s nuclear programme is not merely a regional issue. It is part of a larger debate about who controls the most destructive technology on earth. But does it also speak to concerns and fears by the United States that power is shifting to a rising new China, as the next global hegemon? 

Is America trying to be pre-emptive, to scuttle the rise of China in an emerging New World Order? Do leaders like President Ruto seem to be trapped and lost in this maze? At one time, President Ruto will be in Beijing, telling Xi Jinping that Kenya will partner with China in actuating “the emerging New World Order.” Weeks later, he will be assiduously waving his American Non-NATO Member Ally pennant. 

Yet, the shifting balance of global power in the twenty-first century is a serious matter. Washington will be conscious of this and worried stiff. President Trump arrived on the canon of “Make America Great Again.” What did he really mean? And how does this fit into America’s increasing global belligerence and upsetting of instruments and situations that have balanced global fear and peace? 

More than half a century ago, the political scientist A.F.K. Organski developed the Power Transition Theory. Organski argued that major wars were most likely to happen when a rising power in the international system approaches the strength of the dominant power. During such periods, tensions increase. This is because the existing order starts becoming vulnerable to challenge.

Organski says that conflicts do not usually arise when one state is overwhelmingly dominant. Nor do they arise when the challenger is still far weaker. Instead, danger emerges when the challenger begins to approach parity with the big guy. At that point, the big guy may fear the erosion of his position, while the rising power may seek greater influence. Are we getting here?

Many scholars, including this writer, believe that contemporary global politics may be entering such a phase. Over the past four decades, China’s economic and technological rise has transformed the international landscape. While the United States remains exceptionally powerful, the gap between her and other major powers is no longer what it once was.

Periods of relative change in power often produce psychological and political reactions within dominant societies. Public discourse begins to emphasise national renewal, strength and restoration. Slogans like “Make America Great Again” reflect this mood of perceived decline and the desire to reverse it.

In such moments, dominant powers tend to act more assertively on the international stage. They may reinforce alliances, exert economic pressure on rivals, or demonstrate military strength in strategically important regions. These actions are not necessarily driven by aggression alone. They may also reflect a desire to preserve an international order that appears increasingly uncertain.

Seen from this perspective, crises in places like the Middle East may intersect with broader global anxieties. The region has long been a focal point of geopolitical competition, energy security and ideological conflict. It also lies at the crossroads of several great powers’ strategic interests.

At the same time, another enduring reality shapes nuclear politics: the universal security dilemma. Every nation believes it must ensure its own survival in a world where threats may emerge unexpectedly. From this viewpoint, nuclear weapons appear as the ultimate guarantee of deterrence.

Israel has long argued that its security environment is uniquely dangerous. Yet, the same reasoning can be invoked by every other state. If nuclear deterrence provides security for one nation, why should it not provide security for everyone?

Herein lies the central paradox of the nuclear age. The logic that justifies nuclear weapons for one state can easily justify them for all others. Yet, if that logic spreads universally, the result could be a far more dangerous world. The resulting balance of fear could lead to a more peaceful, although unsafe world. Perhaps.

The nuclear order, therefore, rests on a fragile compromise between power and restraint. A small number of states maintain nuclear arsenals while urging others to abstain. The arrangement is neither perfectly fair nor entirely stable, but it has endured for more than half a century.

Some would argue, however, that nuclear power in the hands of even just one nation already makes the world unsafe, anyway. So, why don’t we all just quit it?

One reason for restraint is that many countries have concluded that nuclear weapons are more trouble than they are worth. Developing and maintaining a credible nuclear arsenal requires immense resources, complex technological infrastructure, and the ability to withstand diplomatic pressure and sanctions.

Another reason is the gradual emergence of a global norm against the use of nuclear weapons. Since the devastating bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, nuclear weapons have not been used in war. This long period of non-use has created a powerful moral taboo that shapes international behaviour, even among nuclear powers themselves.

Yet, the nuclear question remains unresolved. The world continues to live with thousands of nuclear warheads, capable of unimaginable destruction. At the same time, debates over proliferation persist in regions such as the Middle East and the Korean Peninsula.

The challenge for humanity is, therefore, not merely to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons but also to manage the profound inequalities and fears that surround them. International politics rarely offers perfect solutions. More often, it demands careful navigation between competing dangers.

In the end, the nuclear age has not abolished war. It has instead placed a terrifying ceiling over it. The existence of nuclear weapons forces states to exercise caution, even as they pursue their interests. Whether this uneasy balance can endure in an era of global power shifting to China remains to be seen. In the midst of this dilemma, the powerful must never forget that while they do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must, the Samson option exists for the weak. 

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