Beyond Nuclear International

From the Hiroshima bomb to Israel’s nuclear weapons, the path leads back to Congo’s uranium, writes Linda Pentz Gunter

It involved the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC); a Belgian mining company; a fictitious Liberian trading company; a German-named ship — the Scheersberg A; a Spanish crew; a German petrochemical official; an Italian paint company; an Israeli freighter; the Greek island of Crete; a Turkish port; and a confession made in Norway.

If this sounds like the plot for an elaborate work of fiction, it was — it formed the basis of Ken Follett’s 1979 thriller, Triple. But it was also all true.

The clandestine operation, which took place in November 1968, smuggled an estimated 200 tonnes of uranium yellowcake out of the DRC, transporting it to Israel. It was orchestrated by Mossad, the Israeli secret intelligence service and came to be known as Operation Plumbat, since the illicit cargo was marked as lead.

The scheme was set in motion when, after the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, France curtailed its weapons supplies to Israel and likely the uranium fuel as well needed for Israel’s Dimona reactor, believed then and still to be at the heart of the country’s nuclear weapons program. The operation concluded with an exchange of ships and cargos on the high seas, the Scheersberg A eventually docking empty in Turkey while the uranium, now aboard an Israeli freighter, made its way to Haifa and eventually to Dimona.

The Plumbat operation was first exposed in April 1977 at a non-proliferation conference in Salzburg, Austria by Paul Leventhal, who went on to found the Nuclear Control Institute in 1981.

A Climate Cold War Between the US and China won’t solve anything

By G. F. Fuller

In his 2024 State of the Union Address, President Joe Biden told America, “I want competition with China, not conflict.” He went on to say that, by his doing, the U.S. is now “in a stronger position to win the conflict of the 21st century against China.” The U.S. is not at war, but Biden warns of conflict. He is talking, I believe, about climate change, and he is declaring America’s involvement in a New Cold War. His climate policies, governed by a metaphor of competition between the U.S. and China, bode terribly for the world’s future.

The conflict of the 21st century that Biden refers to has already begun, and the president’s conflation of climate policy and foreign policy reflects that. Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act marked the largest climate mitigation investment in American history, but its purpose was to serve as a shield for American workers in a trade war with China. While the bill subsidizes domestic green energy production and manufacturing in order to transition toward sustainability, its stated goal is to “advance America’s economic and foreign policy objectives.”

The U.S. has since moved to build up domestic manufacturing, invest in green technologies, and shelter American workers from Chinese efficiency. Weeks ago, Biden threatened to triple tariffs on Chinese steel and aluminum imports, and his treasury secretary called China’s excess of green energy exports “unacceptable from the U.S. point of view.” In the Climate Cold War, American profit matters more than global prosperity.

Another Cold War will gloss over the inequalities that have existed before and since the last one—and leave the world hotter too.

Navajo Nation urges Congress to act on RECA expansion bill

By Shondiin Silversmith, Arizona Mirror

Kathleen Tsosie remembers seeing her dad come home every evening with his clothes covered in dirt. As a little girl, she never questioned why, and she was often more excited to see if he had any leftover food in his lunchbox.

“We used to go through his lunch and eat whatever he didn’t eat,” Tsosie said, recalling when she was around 4 years old. “And he always had cold water that came back from the mountain.”

Tsosie’s father, grandfather, and uncles all worked as uranium miners on the Navajo Nation near Cove, Arizona, from the 1940s to the 1960s. The dirt Tsosie’s father was caked in when he arrived home came from the mines, and the cold water he brought back was from the nearby springs. 

Tsosie grew up in Cove, a remote community located at the foothills of the Chuska mountain range in northeastern Arizona. There are 56 abandoned mines located in the Cove area, according to the Environmental Protection Agency.

In the late 1960s, Tsosie said her grandfather started getting sick. She remembers herding sheep with him and how he would often rest under a tree, asking her to push on his chest because it hurt. 

Tsosie said she was about 7 years old when her uncles took her grandfather to the hospital. At the time, she didn’t know why he was sick, but later on, she learned he had cancer. Her grandfather died in October 1967.

Over a decade later, Tsosie’s father also started getting sick. She remembers when he came to visit her in Wyoming; she was rubbing his shoulders when she felt a lump. She told him to get it checked out because he complained about how painful it was. 

Her father was diagnosed with cancer in 1984 and went through treatments, but died in April 1985. 

“When my dad passed away, everybody knew it was from the mine,” Tsosie said. He was just the latest on a long list of Navajo men from her community who worked in the uranium mines and ended up getting sick and passing away. 

She recalls how her father used to tell her that, one day, it may happen to him, but she did not want to believe him. Her dad worked in the uranium mines for over 20 years.