The New START treaty, the last remaining agreement constraining Russian and US nuclear weapons, expires today, February 4, 2026. There are no negotiations to extend the terms of the treaty. Russia offered to simply extend it, but Trump responded: “if it expires, it expires”. Well, now they've all expired: SALT II expired in 1986 under Ronald Reagan; START II was effectively shelved as a result of the 2002 U.S. withdrawal from the ABM treaty; and now New START has expired. There are now no treaties between the US and Russia limiting the buildup of nuclear weapons.

That's the bad news. The good news is that the US nuclear weapons business (everything in the US is a business, even nukes) is, at this point, rather boutique. The US would be lucky to keep its existing stockpile of nukes functioning, never mind making new ones. Most of its Minuteman missile silos are no longer serviceable and just need to be filled with cement and abandoned. Its submarine-launched Trident missiles are none too reliable (one, when tested, almost killed the British defense secretary; another flew off in the general direction of Florida but, luckily, didn't make it). What's more, the US nuclear attack submarines are rather old and cannot be replaced as quickly as the old ones have to be retired. And then there are the ancient B-52's, plus a small assortment of newer bombers, that can launch Tomahawk missiles which even old Soviet-era air defense systems can shoot down without too much trouble, never mind the newer ones.

Russia's strategic forces, on the other hand, are fully rearmed, following a completely different strategy: build a weapon, keep it in deployment until its certified service life is about to end, then scrap it and replace with a fresh one. (The Americans simply extend the service life and hope for the best.) Russia also has new delivery systems: for example, there is the Sarmat ICBM which follows a sub-ballistic, arbitrary trajectory such as over the South Pole armed with Avangard hypersonic reentry vehicles. There is also the Poseidon nuclear-powered torpedos which can lay in wait on ocean bottom for years, then attack and cause a tsunami. And then there is the Burevestnik ("Storm Petrel") nuclear-powered cruise missile which has infinite range and can fly around for weeks on end before destroying its target. The US cannot hope to reliably intercept any of these, and in the case of Avangard — not at all. On the other hand, Russia has very advanced air and space defense system that can intercept just about anything the US can throw at it. Major Russian cities are particularly well defended.

Thus, a nuclear duel between the US and Russia might end rather badly for Russia but will with complete certainty terminate the existence of the US and all of its inhabitants. This should keep the Americans at bay. And while the US has a "defense" doctrine that allows a nuclear first strike, Russia does not. Thus, neither side has reasons to feel particularly threatened: the US can't attack Russia while Russia won't attack the US unless the US attacks it first, which it can't do.

In light of this, what are we to make of the complete and total lack of arms control agreements between the US and Russia? Is it a glaring failure of US diplomacy that should cause Concerned Scientists to gibber with anxiety while adjusting their famous clock ever closer to permanent midnight? Or is it just as it should be, given that the US is non-agreement-capable (which sounds clumsy but is the best translation possible of the Russian недоговороспособные) but can be kept under control provided a sufficiently frightening nuclear gun is permanently held to its head by Russia's Strategic Defense Forces? I now turn it over to Anna, who argues for the latter using the current fracas with Iran as an example.

Europe is once again pretending to act on principle, but in reality it is doing what is convenient. The decision to designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps as a terrorist organization is being presented as a moral gesture, as a fight against evil in its purest form. In reality, it's the same old European game: start out with polite dialogue, smiles, handshakes, promises of "détente" and a "diplomatic track," and then execute a swift about-face as soon as the wind shifts and a new agenda emerges. In this case, it's Washington and Trump, for whom the EU dutifully provided legal cover for a potential military adventure against Iran, in advance rebranding it as an "anti-terrorist operation." This isn't about Iran or the IRGC; it's about Europe's habit of presenting cynicism as values ​​and betrayal as a difficult but necessary decision.

For Tehran, this blow is painful not because the Iranians are naïve, but because they remember history. Just yesterday Macron was shaking hands with them and talking about reducing tensions. Just yesterday Europeans were promising to restore diplomatic relations after the latest round of conflict in the Middle East. Just yesterday they were selling Iran the idea of concessions today, investments and recognition tomorrow. And all of this had happened before. It almost happened in 2017, when France blocked attempts to designate the IRGC as terrorists because it wasn't convenient: at the time, France's Total was developing the South Pars oil field. It did happen in 2019 with the INSTEX mechanism, which was supposed to provide for trade and deliver humanitarian supplies. It was all accompanied with fine words about an "open Iran" and a "return to the global economy." And then, every time, the entire architecture of "dialogue" crumbles, as if it never existed.

At this point, European policy is for all concerned a poorly disguised swindle: promises work only as long as they are beneficial to the Western side. As soon as the benefit comes into doubt, commitments are nullified and the trusted partner is relabeled as an existential threat. Gaddafi, too, once believed that agreements with Paris were a sort of insurance policy. He faithfully fulfilled his end of the bargain, financing French election campaigns and agreeing to compromises. The result: French planes bomb Tripoli and a NATO operation that ends in his death. The Yugoslav Milošević was promised association with the EU and international recognition, followed by 78 days of bombing (illegal without a UN sanction) and a sojourn in prison from which he emerged as a corpse. These are not exceptions, excesses or mistakes; they are part of a repeating pattern of betrayal with which Europe feels surprisingly comfortable.

That's why when the Iranians use the word "betrayal," they are not being emotional but are making a diagnosis. Europe isn't simply changing its position—it's doing so systemically, exploiting trust as a vulnerability. For the Europeans, betrayal isn't a glitch — it is a tool: flexible, adaptable and oh so convenient. Today it's business and diplomacy, tomorrow it's sanctions and terrorist lists, the day after it's terrorist attacks against a country's leadership. And each time, this is presented as a necessary measure, a moral duty to act in the defense of some abstract values.

The most alarming thing here isn't even the Iranian story, but the ease with which such a scenario is being projected onto Russia. The difference is that attacking Iran is dangerous while attacking Russia is suicidal. Nevertheless, the instinct of self-preservation seems to have failed the Europeans. All of the familiar disingenuous intonations are increasingly heard from Europe toward Russia: let's talk, let's rebuild bridges, let's return to "normalcy." Let there be documents, guarantees, solemn pronouncements about a common space and a shared destiny. Everything will seem convincing—right up until the moment when another political U-turn makes Russia a convenient target for a new label. Overnight, they will turn out to be terrorists and an existential threat requiring containment and deterrence—all of the vocabulary is already there, just waiting for the right trigger to unleash the torrent of well-rehearsed phrases.

In this sense, the decision about the IRGC isn't about Iran or even the Middle East; it is about Europe as such. It is about its habit of shaking hands and smiling as preparation for lunging with a dagger. It is about its entirely unfounded belief that their "negotiating partners" have short memories and that history is something abstract and irrelevant to the present day. The traitor's kiss is the stock-in-trade of European politics.

Any attempt by the West to restart "honest dialogue" should be countered with a maximally detailed, maximally public review of every single act of Western perfidy and betrayal, followed by detailed discussions of reparations that are yet to be paid for it, to be reviewed case by case. This may take a long time, but it won't take forever because, unlike Iran, or China, or India, or Russia, the EU and US won't last too long as significant entities on the political map. The little countries and states that make them up will be in no position to negotiate with any of the major powers. All deals will be "take it or leave it", "first come, first serve" and "cash up front" — an approach that doesn't require negotiation and doesn't leave any room for betrayal.