Colin Sheridan: We need to become a nuclear power — now that would be the bomb
Are you telling me Cillian Murphy couldn’t lead a lab of star-struck physicists to build a little hydrogen bomb that would be just big enough to scare both Washington and Moscow?
I’ve figured it out. What we need to do to stay relevant, protect our sovereignty, and insulate ourselves as a country: we need to become a nuclear power. I know how it sounds, little old Ireland. The apple of the international community's eye. Certainly the apple of Apple’s eye. And saying all of this, days short of the feast of St Patrick? Heresy, I know. But there’s a method to my madness. So, indulge me. There are few as brave as I’m about to be over the next thousand words or so.
It does not matter how much money we spend on defence, we will never be capable of defending ourselves from invasion, whether it comes from sea, air, or the intray of our LinkedIn profiles. They are coming for us, and by “they”, of course, I mean Russia and Iran. And China. And North Korea. And all of the Stans. Pick your Stan, you can be damn sure they have put little old Éire in their sites. Circled us on their Cold War era maps. Drawn a great big L for Losers over Athlone. We can drop tens of millions on enhanced cyber-security, fancy weapons systems and recruitment posters, but if Sergei wants to take the beachhead at Curracloe, there is nichego we can do.
We have no tradition of conscription. Our society is not militarised. Our youth balk at the notion of having to commit to a course of antibiotics, never mind national service. Numbers alone will not save us. Nor will our softly-softly approach to international peacekeeping. Gone are the days of a checkpoint fracas being diffused by the offer of a cigarette and some Donegal charm. Conflict has changed, and we need to change with it. We need an actual deterrent, and it can’t involve exposing our adversaries to The 2 Johnnies. Even war has law, and unlike others, we should respect it.
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So, we need to build a bomb. The trick here is to keep it away from the government. Sure, they need to sign off on it, appoint a junior minister for Funky Fusion if they must, but the sooner we can get this in the hands of actual scientists, the better. Irish scientists have been a little undervalued lately. Incredible strides have been made in cancer research, in new planet discovery, in removing microplastics from water, and that's all lovely. But, tell me this: does cancer research actually save lives? Not as many as building a bomb would.
We constantly hear about our strategic significance as an island nation on the edge of Europe, last stop before hitting the land of the free, home of the brave. English speakers! Educated! Subservient to mega-corporations! Well imagine the look on their faces when, on St PatRick's Day 2036, when Taoiseach Enoch Burke, visiting the Oval Office to exchange the customary bowl of genetically modified shamrock, leans in and whispers to president Marco Rubio — “back up the truck, ese, we are two weeks away from having the bomb.”
Actually, skip the two weeks bit. That's where poor old Iran messed up. The nuclear fortnight, ubiquitous in American intelligence briefings on Iranian nuclear capabilities for forty years, was ultimately their undoing. Maybe they enjoyed the notoriety of the Americans thinking they were so close. Maybe they knew the Americans knew that they were never that close, but living in that little vacuum of “we know-you know-we know-you know” is a comfortable, self-serving existence. It justifies paranoia, and paranoia justifies astronomical defence spending. Why do you think Washington has never hit their other bête noire North Korea — because they have a nuclear weapon of course! Whatever. If Iran had actually got around to building the bomb, they wouldn’t have been bombarded by the world's most crooked cops — the US and Israel — for the last ten days.
Speaking of Israel — and I realise this is going to be controversial — they (objectively speaking) are an example we can follow! A country so small it would fit along the Wild Atlantic way, with a population of a subtle 9m, have quietly developed a nuclear program without even declaring it, to anyone! The very definition of chutzpah! This is the country that got a reputation for getting up early, but these crazy cats stay in bed till noon! Blink at Tel Aviv and they will hit a button that opens up a massive nuke launch pad, high up in the mountains in the Negev Desert, like a scene from one of those camp James Bond movies. Nobody knows what's beneath the pad. But nobody wants to find out. Small country. Big guns. Antagonise us! Watch what happens.
How to pay for it? Come now. Don’t be so naive. Of course I can throw the Apple money argument at you. A slush fund floating in an Escrow like a bag in the wind. When that fund was finally closed last year, about €14.25bn was transferred to the Irish Exchequer. For €14.25bn Ireland could finally invest in the sort of modest, tasteful nuclear deterrent that says “want a piece of our peace?”
Just a gentle atomic nudge that tells would-be invaders: sure look, best leave it.
And don’t tell me we don’t have the pedigree to do this. Before we got into all of this hippy-dippy curing-cancer codswallop, our scientists were out there making waves — literally — that would eventually lead to entire cities being evericeratd in milliseconds.
Before radio existed, an Irish physicist predicted them. George Francis FitzGerald, a professor at Trinity in the late 1800’s, suggested that electromagnetic waves could be generated in laboratories. Ernest Walton, from Waterford, split the atom in 1932. His work confirmed Einstein's famous equation — you know the one, e=mc^2 — and ushered in the era of nuclear power. Walton shared the 1951 Nobel prize with his lab partner. Not too shabby.

And what about Cillian Murphy? That man went so method for his Oscar winning turn as Oppenheimer that I wouldn’t be surprised if he understood the equations he stared so intensely at. He learned Dutch for one scene for God's sake. Are you telling me he couldn’t lead a lab of star-struck physicists to build a little hydrogen bomb that would be big enough to scare both Washington and Moscow, just on charisma alone? It’s in us. We just need to tap it.
Listen, I’m a pacifist. And though it sounds counterintuitive to say, a nuclear weapon is just about our best chance to keep that peace. To stay neutral. To stop Washington from flexing its bloated muscles and forcing us to eat a shit-sandwich every time it wants to pursue regime change. I want Russian subs to think twice before they enter our waters and put up their scopes, furry ushanka and all. I just hate to see the money wasted on weapons and armoured trucks and drone technology that will date quicker than coleslaw.
I seek no credit for this. I don’t want any statues, no mentions of my name as the father of the Irish Atomic Movement. Nor have I thought about who I want to play me in the inevitable movie. By then, Fassbender will be too old, Cillian too small. I just want peace, and if the state of the world today has taught us anything, the only path to peace is to be ready for bloody, brutal war.







