At a moment when the Middle East still trembles from the aftershocks of war, Iran stands before a decision that could redraw the boundaries of the nuclear age: whether to remain bound by the international order it has long strained against, or to step beyond it entirely. The death of Supreme Leader Khamenei in an Israeli airstrike has removed both a constraint and a clarity, leaving Tehran's true intentions obscured behind competing voices — a president offering diplomacy, generals invoking justification for withdrawal, and a new supreme leader whose silence speaks louder than any declaration.
Iran's Nuclear Ambitions at Crossroads as Regime Weighs NPT Withdrawal
No one can honestly claim to know whether Iran has decided to build a bomb
So Iran's president is saying he'll dilute uranium and allow inspections, but military officials are talking about leaving the NPT. Which one is real?
Both are real statements, but they're coming from different parts of the Iranian government. Pezeshkian is signaling openness to negotiation, but he doesn't control the military or security apparatus. Rezaei's comments reflect what hardliners are thinking.
But we should note that Rezaei said no decision had been made yet. He didn't announce withdrawal—he said conditions exist for it. That's different.
What changed? Why is Iran suddenly talking about leaving the treaty?
The war in 2026. Israel killed the Supreme Leader, destroyed nuclear facilities, killed weapons scientists. It was an existential shock to the system.
And the new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, hasn't reaffirmed his father's fatwa banning nuclear weapons. That's being read as significant, but it's also absence of speech—we don't know if it means policy has changed or if he just hasn't gotten around to restating it.
Can anyone actually verify what Iran is doing now?
No. The IAEA has been barred from inspections. Satellite images show reconstruction at two major sites, but we can't see inside them.
And that's the crucial point. Without inspectors, intelligence agencies are guessing. Tim Bosch, a former Dutch intelligence officer, said explicitly that no one can honestly claim to know whether Iran has decided to build a bomb.
So the world is essentially blind?
On the details, yes. We know Iran has uranium enriched to 60%, which is unprecedented for a non-nuclear state. We know they're rebuilding damaged facilities. But the final step—weaponization—we can't see it.
And that uncertainty is itself destabilizing. It creates space for different actors to claim different things are true, which is what we're seeing from Trump, Bolton, and the hardliners in Tehran.
Il Polso
- Iran's regime is simultaneously extending diplomatic olive branches and signaling it may abandon the very treaty that defines the global nuclear order — a contradiction that has left Western governments unable to calibrate their response.
- Satellite imagery confirms that Iran is not pausing but accelerating, rebuilding bombed nuclear facilities at Parchin and Natanz and driving operations deeper underground where airstrikes cannot easily reach.
- The IAEA, the institution designed to answer the most dangerous question in geopolitics, has been locked out of Iranian military sites and referred Iran to the UN Security Council — leaving the world effectively blind.
- The new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, has not reaffirmed his father's religious ban on nuclear weapons, and intelligence analysts warn that those inside Tehran who opposed weaponization have grown measurably weaker.
- With the Islamabad ceasefire framework expired and diplomatic talks stalled, the window for a negotiated resolution is narrowing, and the logic of deterrence — on all sides — is filling the vacuum.
At a moment when the Middle East still trembles from the aftershocks of war, Iran stands before a decision that could redraw the boundaries of the nuclear age: whether to remain bound by the international order it has long strained against, or to step beyond it entirely. The death of Supreme Leader Khamenei in an Israeli airstrike has removed both a constraint and a clarity, leaving Tehran's true intentions obscured behind competing voices — a president offering diplomacy, generals invoking justification for withdrawal, and a new supreme leader whose silence speaks louder than any declaration. Beneath mountains and behind closed military gates, the physical work of reconstruction continues, while the world's inspectors wait outside, unable to say with certainty what is being built.
Iran's nuclear program has arrived at a moment of open, consequential uncertainty. The country is publicly debating withdrawal from the Non-Proliferation Treaty, while satellite images show construction crews rebuilding nuclear facilities at Parchin and Natanz — sites damaged in the 2026 war that killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei — and driving operations deeper underground.
The signals from Tehran are contradictory by design. President Masoud Pezeshkian told Fox News in September that Iran would dilute its 60%-enriched uranium stockpile and accept international inspections if a comprehensive deal could be reached. Days later, Mohsen Rezaei of the Supreme National Security Council suggested that American and Israeli actions had given Iran grounds to leave the NPT — stopping short of a decision, but making withdrawal sound like a live option rather than a rhetorical threat.
The 2015 JCPOA, which had capped Iran's enrichment in exchange for sanctions relief, collapsed when Trump withdrew in 2018. Now, with the IAEA locked out of Iranian military sites and the UN Security Council formally notified of alleged violations, the architecture of nuclear diplomacy is under severe strain. Trump told the UN General Assembly on September 22 that he would never allow Iran to acquire a nuclear weapon — but without inspectors on the ground, no outside party can verify how close Iran has come to the 90% enrichment threshold required for a bomb.
Perhaps the most telling signal is one of absence. The late supreme leader had issued a fatwa in 2019 declaring nuclear weapons forbidden under Islamic law — a decree that anchored Iran's claim to peaceful intent. His son and successor, Mojtaba Khamenei, has not reaffirmed it. Former Dutch intelligence official Tim Bosch told Deutsche Welle that this silence is meaningful, and that those within Tehran who opposed weaponization are now considerably weaker. He cautioned that anyone claiming certainty about Iran's nuclear decision — whether in Tehran, Jerusalem, or Washington — is likely serving a political agenda rather than reflecting verified intelligence.
The ceasefire framework established under the Islamabad Memorandum expired in mid-August, and the 2026 war's most lasting consequence may be the question it raised: with Khamenei gone and Iran's military leadership decimated, has the internal brake on nuclear ambition been removed? Whether diplomacy can still find traction — or whether deterrence logic fills the void — remains the defining question of the moment.
Iran's nuclear program stands at a pivot point. The country is openly debating whether to withdraw from the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons—a move that would reshape the geopolitics of the Middle East and signal a fundamental shift in Tehran's approach to atomic weapons. At the same time, satellite imagery shows construction crews at two major nuclear complexes that were damaged in recent airstrikes, suggesting the regime is moving sensitive equipment and operations deeper underground.
The contradiction is stark. In a September interview with Fox News, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian offered a path toward de-escalation: Tehran would dilute its stockpile of uranium enriched to 60% and open its nuclear program to international inspection, he said, if a comprehensive agreement could be negotiated under international law. The message was calibrated for Western ears—diplomatic, measured, open to negotiation. But within days, military and political figures in Tehran were saying something different. Mohsen Rezaei, secretary of Iran's Supreme National Security Council, declared that American and Israeli actions had created justification for Iran to leave the NPT. He stopped short of announcing a decision, but the statement signaled that withdrawal was no longer theoretical.
Satellite imagery published by The Daily Telegraph on September 19 showed the physical reality behind these competing signals. At Parchin, a military complex southeast of Tehran, Iran was constructing new facilities and rebuilding ones destroyed in airstrikes. Near Natanz, another major nuclear site, construction crews were working on a complex burrowed beneath what is known as Pickaxe Mountain. Both locations had been targeted during what the Pentagon called Operation Epic Fury and Israel called Operation Roaring Lion—a war that killed Iran's Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei in an Israeli air strike in February 2026. The reconstruction effort suggested that Iran was moving enriched uranium and equipment to locations harder to target from the air.
The United States has made its position unambiguous. On September 22, President Donald Trump told the UN General Assembly: "I will never allow Iran to have a nuclear weapon." But Trump's certainty masks a deeper problem: the International Atomic Energy Agency has lost access to Iranian military sites and can no longer verify what is happening inside them. In December 2024, the IAEA assessed that Iran possessed uranium enriched to 60%—a level no other non-nuclear weapons state has achieved. Ninety percent enrichment is required for a bomb. But without inspectors on the ground, no one outside Iran knows how close the country has come to crossing that threshold.
The 2015 nuclear agreement, known as the JCPOA, had imposed strict limits on Iran's enrichment in exchange for sanctions relief. But the accord collapsed when Trump withdrew in 2018, citing inadequate provisions for inspecting military sites. John Bolton, Trump's former national security adviser, told Deutsche Welle that Iran has been violating the NPT for more than three decades and that diplomatic agreements have served only as "cover for an unalterable strategy pursued by Tehran." Bolton argued that the IAEA never had real access to Iran's military bases, where the critical work on weaponization occurs. He concluded that the only path to stability in the Middle East is regime change in Tehran.
But the question of Iran's true intentions may hinge on something less visible than satellite imagery or uranium stockpiles: the silence of Iran's new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei. His father, the previous supreme leader, issued a religious decree—a fatwa—in 2019 declaring that producing and stockpiling nuclear weapons was forbidden under Islamic law. This fatwa became central to Iran's diplomatic argument that its nuclear program was peaceful. Yet since Mojtaba Khamenei took power following his father's death, he has not reaffirmed the ban. Tim Bosch, a former senior Dutch intelligence officer and current CEO of the Birdwatcher Group, told Deutsche Welle that this silence is significant. "Those opposed to acquiring nuclear weapons in Tehran are now far weaker," Bosch said. He added that without IAEA inspections, no intelligence agency can honestly claim to know whether Iran has decided to build a bomb. "Those who claim with absolute certainty that they have made their decision are either bluffing or mostly advancing their own political agendas," he said—referring to hardliners in Iran, Israel, and the United States.
The 60-day period for technical talks between Iran and the United States under the Islamabad Memorandum of Understanding, which had extended a ceasefire, expired in mid-August. The IAEA Board of Governors referred Iran to the UN Security Council on September 9 over alleged breaches of its non-proliferation obligations. Damon Golriz, a political analyst at The Hague University of Applied Sciences, argues that the 2026 war—which killed Khamenei and decapitated Iran's military and security establishment—has fundamentally altered Tehran's calculation. The targeting of Iran's leadership raised a question that may now be driving policy: Has the constraint that Khamenei represented on Iran's nuclear ambitions become obsolete? If so, the regime's nuclear doctrine may be undergoing reassessment. What comes next depends on whether diplomacy can still find purchase, or whether the logic of deterrence—and the logic of war—will prevail.
Citazioni salienti
I will never allow Iran to have a nuclear weapon.— President Donald Trump, UN General Assembly, September 22
Those who claim with absolute certainty that they have made their decision are either bluffing or mostly advancing their own political agendas.— Tim Bosch, former Dutch intelligence officer