together hold 95 percent of the world’s warheads. The Moscow Treaty of 2002, signed by President George W. Bush and President Vladimir Putin, called for between 2,200 and 1,700 warheads “operationally deployed” on each side by the year 2012. Neither nation would suffer from radical reductions from this level. In today’s world, thousands of nuclear warheads on each side do not provide thousands of times more deterrence or safety than a small number of warheads. A drive toward liquidation of the arsenals would be a fitting way to bury the Cold War. So would a determined effort to halt the spread of nuclear weapons and fissile materials elsewhere, as well as ratification of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty. We should remember the wisdom of Bernard Brodie, the pioneering early thinker about atomic weapons, who wrote that they are “truly cosmic forces harnessed to the machines of war.” The war is over. It is long past time to scrap the machines.
In 1992, Senators Nunn and Lugar took a gamble with history. Back then, skeptics suggested it would be best to let the former Soviet Union drown in its own sorrows—to go into “free fall.” Nunn and Lugar did not agree. They helped Russia and the other former Soviet republics cope with an inheritance from hell. The investment paid huge dividends. In the years that followed, Kazakhstan, Belarus and Ukraine completely abandoned nuclear weapons. A total of 7,514 nuclear warheads, 752 intercontinental ballistic missiles, and 31 submarines were deactivated.4These were required by arms control treaties, but Nunn-Lugar provided the resources that made dismantlement a reality.
Many of the facilities with unguarded fissile material in the mid-1990s underwent security upgrades. By 2008, more than 70 percent of the buildings in the former Soviet Union with weapons-usable nuclear materials had been fortified, although the uranium and plutonium were still spread across more than two hundred locations.5 After Project Sapphire, highly-enriched uranium was removed, often quietly, from an additional nineteen research reactors and sensitive installations around the former Soviet bloc.6 The International Science and Technology Center, started after Baker’s visit to Chelyabinsk-70, made grants over fourteen years that benefited, at one time or another, about seventy thousand scientists and engineers involved in building weapons.7 The anthrax factory at Stepnogorsk was destroyed, including the giant fermenters in Building 221. On Vozrozhdeniye Island, eleven graves where anthrax was buried were pinpointed; the substance, pink with a texture of wet clay, was excavated and the pathogens neutralized.8 On the steppe near Russia’s southern border, a $1 billion factory has been constructed that will destroy the huge stockpiles of chemical weapons, including sarin, stored in the nearby warehouses. At the Mayak Chemical Combine in the city of Ozersk, a massive fortified vault was built by the United States at a cost of $309 million to store excess Russian fissile materials. With walls twenty-three feet thick, the Fissile Material Storage Facility answered the need so starkly evident after the Soviet collapse—a Fort Knox to guard uranium and plutonium.
It was never going to be easy for a country so turbulent as Russia to accept the hand of a rich and powerful rival, and it wasn’t. Suspicions, delays, misunderstandings and errors were abundant in the years after the Soviet collapse.9 But overall, given the immense size of the Soviet military-industrial complex and the sprawling nature of the dangerous weapons and materials, the Nunn-Lugar gamble paid off. The world is safer for their vision and determination. It was also a bargain. The yearly cost for all facets of Nunn-Lugar was about $1.4 billion, a tiny sliver of the annual Pentagon budget of more than $530 billion.10
In a cemetery in Yekaterinburg, the city that was Sverdlovsk in Soviet times, on a cold snowy December day, I found a cluster of graves amid tall pines and birches. Wilted roses lay upon some of the tombstones, while others showed signs of neglect. What they all shared were the same dates of death: April and May 1979. These were the victims of the anthrax outbreak, their names a roll call from a long-forgotten battlefield of the Cold War. Andrei Komelskikh was sixty-seven years old when he died April 13. He was a grandfather. “You are always in our hearts, from your wife, children and grandchildren,” his headstone was inscribed. Neither Andrei nor the other victims knew why they died in those horrific weeks of 1979. Except for a brief, one-sentence comment by Yeltsin, neither the Soviet Union nor Russia has ever admitted, either to the families or to the world, how or why the biological weapons disaster occurred.
On February 10, 2005, I was admitted to the once-secret Biopreparat headquarters at No. 4a Samokatnaya Street in Moscow. This was the same building where Ken Alibek worked as first deputy director. I went to the second floor to interview Valentin Yevstigneev, the retired lieutenant general who once headed the 15th Main Directorate of the Ministry of Defense, which supervised germ warfare. Yevstigneev was part of the old guard that had participated in the cover-up of Biopreparat activities in earlier years. Now wearing a business suit in a modern office, he handed me his card: first deputy general director of a privatized company, Biopreparat, a commercial enterprise. On a table, I picked up a glossy brochure about the new Biopreparat, containing photographs of test tubes, syringes and pills, describing the company’s activity manufacturing medicines and medical technology. There was no mention of the pathogens of the past.
When I asked Yevstigneev about the anthrax outbreak in Sverdlovsk in 1979, he repeated the story that it was spread by contaminated meat. Then he suggested it was caused by sabotage or terrorists from outside the Soviet Union. This was another line of disinformation that had been floated by the military in earlier years.11
Telling the whole truth about the Sverdlovsk outbreak would be a good first step toward putting the terrible secret history of Biopreparat to rest.
The truth matters. Deception is a tool of germ warriors. The same disguise that concealed the Soviet biological weapons program as civilian research could be used today to hide a dangerous germ warfare program anywhere. The anthrax letter attacks in the United States in 2001, the outbreak of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome in 2003 and the dramatic advances in biosciences have all underscored the destructive nature of biological agents. The National Academy of Sciences concluded in a report in 2009 that closed cities like Obolensk with a relatively large footprint are no longer necessary to house an illicit biological weapons program. A dangerous pathogen, say a virus, could be spread with no discernible signature. The workspace of a biological weaponeer or terrorist could be safely nestled inside a university or commercial laboratory, impossible to discover by satellite reconnaissance. People are the key, as Vladimir Pasechnik demonstrated by following his conscience and revealing Soviet misdeeds. To detect such dangers in the future requires human contacts, networks, transparency and collaboration, the painstaking building of bridges that Andy Weber pursued.
In the 1990s, Russia seemed vulnerable and desperate, but starting in the year 2000, a surge of oil wealth fueled a new sense of independence. Also, Russia was led into another period of authoritarianism under President Putin, during which it grew hostile to outsiders. Under Putin, Russia increasingly shut down cooperation with the West on biological weapons proliferation. Russian officials have insisted that since the country has no offensive biological weapons program, there is no need to cooperate. But it also appears Russia is reverting back to Soviet- era habits. Putin’s security services went on a hunt for suspected spies among scientists, which put a chill on joint projects with the West.
Russia has long refused to open the doors of three military biological research facilities. To this day, it is unknown how far the Soviet Union went in creating warheads and bombs from the bacteria and viruses that were developed at Obolensk and Vector. Did the Soviet scientists produce a super-plague resistant to antibiotics? Did they create a cruise missile capable of disseminating anthrax bacteria spores? Or warheads for an intercontinental ballistic missile to carry smallpox? And if they did these things, all in violation of an international treaty they signed in 1972, should the details at last be brought to light?12 A string of Russian antiplague institutes and stations that once fed into the germ warfare program also remain closed to Western cooperation. If there are no weapons, no offensive program, as Russia claims, then what is behind the closed doors? What formulas for weaponization remain in the military laboratories? And most importantly, what has become of the scientists with know-how to create pathogens that can be carried in a shirt pocket?
What are they working on today?
If it wasn’t worrisome enough that Russia was weak and vulnerable after the Soviet collapse, another jolt came in the 1990s: terrorists and cults were in search of weapons of mass destruction. The people who would commit mass terror lacked the resources or industrial base of a government or military, but they burned with the ambition to kill in a large and theatrical way. Terrorism certainly wasn’t new, but terrorists in possession of the arsenals of the Cold War would be devastating.
In 1995, the Aum Shinrikyo cult released the deadly nerve agent sarin on three Tokyo subway trains, killing
