In 1994, Ukraine possessed the third-largest nuclear arsenal in the world. It had inherited from the ruins of the Soviet Union hundreds of strategic warheads, intercontinental missiles, and the technical means to maintain them. Under the Budapest Memorandum, it agreed to hand over all of this in exchange for security guarantees given by three powers: the United States, the United Kingdom, and Russia. The promise was simple: in exchange for renouncing the supreme power, Ukraine’s territorial integrity would be respected.
Two decades later, that promise proved to be an illusion. In 2014, Russia annexed Crimea; in 2022, it launched a full-scale invasion. The guarantees of the West turned out to be merely diplomatic, without binding force. The country that believed in words was left to defend itself with blood, not deterrence.
But Ukraine was never a technically naïve country. It inherited not only the arsenal, but also the scientific knowledge, uranium, civilian and military nuclear facilities, engineers, and access to fissile materials. It has one of the most advanced aerospace and missile sectors in Eastern Europe, a direct legacy of the Soviet industrial complex. The companies of Dnipro, Kharkiv, and other cities hold decades of experience in rocket engine production and ballistic technology.
When the Ukrainian president asks for guarantees in Washington and is met with coldness, the world sees not only a rejected request but an echo of humiliation. It is the cry of someone who realizes he was deceived: he gave up his cards and now plays unarmed on a board where only those who possess warheads are respected.
That is why many analysts believe that Ukraine already possesses, or could quickly reacquire, nuclear capability, not out of a desire for aggression, but from sheer necessity for survival. A country that has witnessed the failure of Western promises and the brutality of its neighbor does not forget how to make a bomb, it simply kept that knowledge.
Of course, Ukraine would never admit it. To reveal such power would be to lose its shield, provoking distrust among allies and fear in the enemy, who might strike first. Perfect deterrence is never announced: it lives in silence and uncertainty. Secrecy is the last refuge of betrayed strength.
If one day the world discovers that Kyiv has regained the power it once surrendered, it will not be a surprise, but a logical consequence, the inevitable result of a broken pact and a bitter lesson: those who renounce supreme power in exchange for words end up delivered to the fate of the weak.