Disarmament Diplomacy

Editorial

New Nuclear Weapons? Perish the Thought!

Rebecca Johnson

It used to be that when you got a new car you proudly displayed it, showing off the improved capabilities and latest technological toys. It didn't matter if the car was only a couple of years younger than the previous, or even if it was second hand: if it was more than you had before, everyone treated it as new. Not any more, at least where nuclear weapons are concerned. New nukes are being denied on all sides, though that hasn't seemed to reduce the addicts' infectious desires.

Imagine, if you will, a neighbourhood which has finally decided to do something about road safety. One neighbour, let's call him George, has thousands of cars but he wanted one with an elongated hood and deep penetrating roar. The neighbours were worried, and got up a petition against such new cars. George's three older brothers had decided a while ago that they had to cut down and didn't need more. Five years ago, the biggest polluters even made an unequivocal promise to get rid of all their cars, though they didn't say when.

But George had a chip on his shoulder about his brothers (especially Bill, who was brighter and more popular). Determined to undo almost everything Bill had done, George set fire to the minutes of the previous No Private Transport meeting in the hope that this would make everyone forget the collective safety agreements. (This caused no end of problems, messing up neighbourhood efforts to get an agenda, causing this year's meeting to be an abject failure and encouraging other delinquents.)

George and his friends Dick and Don also had an unattractive penchant for breaking into other people's houses and blowing things up, which got him into trouble financially, especially when he was forced to stay and help rebuild. His parents, having trouble paying for his excesses, told him he didn't need a new car. "It's not new," wailed George, "just a modification! Please, please, please!" George's parents remained unconvinced. "By that logic, they're all just modifications of the first two cars your great grandfather crashed sixty years ago," they said, and refused to give him the extra allowance. George, Dick and Don have been thwarted for the time being, but are no doubt still plotting ways to get the money for another new car (renamed a modified defensive transport vehicle). The one they have set their hearts on has special spatial capabilities and powerful new headlamps designed to kill rabbits.

By contrast, Vlad from the other side of the road has begun to boast about his plans for a spiffing new hypersonic model that will be able to avoid George's snowballs. Some might wonder how he could afford a new car, dependent as he is on donations and help to clear his yard of the dangerous old crocks left after years of trying to keep up with George's family. But Vlad was not abashed. "Oh, it's not really new," he replied airily. "Just supplementary."

Jintao also doesn't want us to think that the growing fleet of different types of increasingly souped-up cars in his garage are new. "We're only modernising," he replied primly. "We're still a long way behind Vlad and George, and it's not right to criticise us for bringing our cars more up to date - after all, we're not the largest." To deflect attention, Jintao promised not to be the first to run over a pedestrian, and called on the others to do the same.

Jacques was rather waspish when asked about his spanking new Model 51, with which he was replacing the older 45s in his backyard. "Ridiculous to call these new," he hissed, "just a small upgrade, and nothing to cause a fuss over."

Most sheepish of all was Tony, who tried to slip the decision in without anyone noticing. Tony has for several years been putting his name forward to win the prize for most environmentally friendly of the recognised polluters. He'd promised to get rid of all his cars, so imagine the shock when he announced before his last birthday that he hoped to be getting lots more. "But these won't be new," said brother John, bending like a reed to survive the hurricane. "They'll just be replacements. They'll probably look exactly the same as the last lot. Nothing to worry about. It's the chassis really... they're due to get metal fatigue in 20 years time, so we're planning replacements that will last another 50 years."

John promised a family meeting, but Tony seems to have made his mind up already, judging by the down-payment of millions of pounds to Aldermaston Autos. And he has promised George he will carry on doing George's dirty work in return for a continuing supply of spare parts.

If the neighbours aren't happy about this, Tony's family is even less so. They reminded Tony that when he took the pledge to get rid of his cars in 2000, everyone had given him lots of praise, which he'd enjoyed tremendously. "You promised!" they chorused. "You know they're immoral! We don't need the ones we've got and strongly object to wasting billions of pounds on new ones." Most of Tony's family want to clean up the neighbourhood and invest in shared public transport and other priorities, but Tony intends to ignore them.

Call them replacements, upgrades, supplements, modifications or modernisation - such euphemisms do not conceal the nuclear polluters' shameful aims as they try to pretend they aren't really getting new nukes. Who do they think they are fooling?

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