Next Question, Please: Trump, Netanyahu, and Iran’s Nuclear Brink

When asked by a reporter whether he had warned Prime Minister Netanyahu not to strike Iran during the current nuclear negotiations, President Trump was blunt: “Well, I’d like to be honest. Yes, I did. Next question, please?” That terse exchange signaled a resolute stance. Trump’s priority: avoiding war.

Israel views Iran as an existential threat and has long contemplated striking its nuclear facilities. Trump, however, viewed a nuclear agreement with Tehran as essential to restoring stability in the volatile Middle East. The latest round of diplomacy between Washington and Tehran reflects that belief—a quiet but deliberate effort to prevent escalation, despite skepticism in both capitals. Meanwhile, Iran’s nuclear program presses forward. A recent International Atomic Energy Agency report found that Tehran has enriched uranium to near-weapons-grade levels—enough to produce ten nuclear bombs.

What if Iran goes nuclear? Some analysts invoke the Cold War doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD), suggesting that nuclear deterrence could prevent war. They point to the US-Soviet standoff, where both sides avoided direct conflict, constrained by the certainty that a nuclear exchange would be catastrophic. Extending this logic, nuclear parity could create a similar strategic balance, deterring potential preemptive strikes by Israel or the United States. Some analysts argue Israel’s long-standing regional nuclear monopoly has been destabilizing, and a nuclear Iran might restore equilibrium, reducing the risk of conflict. Deterrence could thus serve the interests of both Israel and the United States by enabling a grudging coexistence with Tehran and allowing for a gradual US pullback from the region.

However, this strategic logic faces serious challenges in a region marked by deep ideological divides and volatility. Unlike the bipolar Cold War world, the Middle East is marked by religious fervor, factional conflicts, and influential non-state actors—all factors that complicate straightforward cost-benefit calculations.

Nuclear deterrence is seen as an unacceptable gamble. Even with a presumed second-strike capability—ensuring retaliation even after a surprise attack—this alone does not allay its fears. Iran’s revolutionary ideology, regional ambitions, and explicit hostility to Israel raise doubts about whether self-preservation alone would reliably guide its behavior. The greater fear is not a first strike by Iran, but that nuclear weapons would embolden it, especially in proxy conflicts or conventional warfare.

Moreover, MAD presumes parity. Israel’s policy of opacity—undeclared but widely acknowledged nuclear capability—has provided it with strategic dominance, tacitly backed by the West. If Iran crosses the nuclear threshold, Israel’s strategic advantage would erode. What emerges is not balance, but uncertainty—a precarious standoff.

A nuclear Iran could spark a regional arms race. Saudi officials have already hinted at developing their nuclear capability. Turkey and Egypt might follow. MAD was conceived to balance power in a bipolar environment, a world vastly different from today’s Middle East, a volatile, multipolar region teeming with non-state actors and cross-border militias. As such, the traditional deterrence framework is bound to fail.

While Israel struck nuclear facilities in Iraq (1981) and Syria (2007), Iran presents a far more formidable challenge. Its sites are dispersed, fortified, and in some cases buried deep underground. A limited strike might delay progress, but it would not eliminate the threat and could even accelerate Iran’s ambitions. You can bomb facilities, but not knowledge. And not even F-35s can erase a nuclear blueprint.

The distinction between conventional and nuclear deterrence has significant real-world implications for the security strategies of Israel and the United States. Nuclear deterrence relies on mutual vulnerability to ensure restraint, but conventional deterrence operates in a far murkier space, prone to misjudgment, rapid escalation, and blurred red lines. October 7 was not merely an intelligence failure but also a failure of conventional deterrence: Israel believed Hamas had been deterred by superior firepower and punitive strikes. It hadn’t. Similarly, in 1973, Egypt and Syria defied the assumption that a prior defeat would deter renewed war. In both cases, adversaries acted not irrationally but from a different strategic calculus. This is the central problem: deterrence depends less on capability than on perception. And in a region saturated with ideology, asymmetric threats, and actors with varying risk tolerances, the line between deterrence and disaster is perilously thin.

Trump’s approach is transactional, favoring leverage over idealism. Rather than gamble on deterrence or risk open conflict, he prefers a negotiated freeze to curb Iran’s ambitions while preserving Israel’s edge. Whether this outcome is achievable remains unclear. But one thing is certain: diplomacy is not a luxury—it is a necessity.

Netanyahu’s aggressive rhetoric, dating back to 2010, has aimed to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons. However, few in Israel’s defense establishment currently view military action as a risk worth taking. With the Gaza war still raging and Netanyahu under mounting domestic pressure, talk of escalation may serve political optics. But it would not reflect a calculated strategic imperative. Such an attack could provoke a devastating Iranian response, inflict significant civilian and military casualties, and plunge the region into deeper instability. Moreover, it remains far from certain that the coalition of eight countries that helped intercept Iranian missiles targeting Israel in April 2024 would intervene again under similar circumstances.

After twenty months of an ongoing multi-front conflict, Israel faces a high-stakes nuclear poker: gamble on war or accept a U.S.-Iran nuclear agreement that most likely will fall short of its goal—the complete elimination of Iran’s nuclear capability—a weak hand, in a dangerous game. The clock is ticking, and the stakes are nuclear. Should the negotiations collapse, however, all bets are off.