Besides trading arms with Chad, the Soviet Union also launched a "whatever policy" toward Gaddafi—meaning they would verbally support any action that benefited him. This was Moscow's way of killing with a borrowed knife. What Yanayev feared most was Gaddafi's nuclear weapons program. Any small country researching nukes was considered a grave betrayal by the five permanent UN Security Council members.
Gaddafi's son, Saif al-Islam, was a key secret promoter of Libya's nuclear ambitions. He spent huge sums buying nuclear technology from Pakistani scientists, sourcing uranium from Asian countries like Malaysia, centrifuges from South Africa, and other components from Dubai, shipping everything back to Libya. The Americans might not have had the full picture yet, but the Soviets made sure KGB agents intentionally—or sometimes accidentally—leaked these details to Western journalists.
Then came a bombshell that shocked the world: a detailed report analyzing Libya's secret nuclear facilities. Though mixed with half-truths and speculation, it created widespread panic. The most interesting part? The report originated from Soviet and Chinese cooperation—a surprising alliance given China's grudge against Gaddafi, who had publicly exposed Pakistan's Chinese nuclear manual at the UN.
China, angered by this, sought to outwit Libya: "If you're secretly building nukes, we'll make sure everyone knows. We can't stop you, but that doesn't mean France, Britain, and the U.S. will ignore it."
The narrative was clear: Libya secretly builds nukes, the U.S. turns a blind eye, and the Soviet Union is the true champion of global non-proliferation.
This put the CIA in a tight spot. Although aware of Libya's activities, they lacked enough hard evidence to expose the program outright. They could only partially confirm Soviet intelligence, unsure how much was real or fabricated. What unnerved them most was the KGB's intelligence reach: just three days after Gaddafi's provocative statements against the USSR, Soviet foreign intelligence had uncovered Libya's deep secrets. This implied a high-level Soviet informant within Libya—someone nearly as powerful as Gaddafi himself.
Yanayev never told the CIA that after 2011 these revelations became widely known. But in the 1990s, every line in those reports was precious intelligence, fiercely guarded by the secret services eager to learn about Gaddafi's nuclear program.
Britain finally found a secret weapon to contain Gaddafi: Saif al-Islam, his second son, who leaned pro-Western. British officials cultivated ties with Saif and a powerful Libyan businessman. Their message was blunt: unless Gaddafi gave up nuclear weapons, Western relations would remain frozen.
Meanwhile, the Soviets ratcheted up propaganda, promoting slogans like "Only nuclear weapons guarantee a nation's security," and subtly mocking South African President De Klerk, who had dismantled his country's nuclear arsenal the previous year.
The free world grew wary. Even fools could tell the Soviets were targeting Libya. But the louder Moscow preached, the more anxious the West became to force Libya's disarmament.
John Major held a secret meeting with Saif in London. "Our demands are clear. Unless your father abandons his nuclear ambitions, sanctions and embargoes will remain in place."
"Giving up nuclear weapons isn't something that happens overnight," Saif responded cautiously. He knew improving Western relations was vital, but convincing his father would take time.
"But you helped smuggle nuclear parts worldwide," Major snapped. "MI6 intelligence shows your father is the world's biggest nuclear smuggler. You use your liberal image to aid arms trafficking. If you keep this up, NATO won't let you escape unscathed."
Saif hesitated, then promised, "I will try to persuade him."
Cornered, Saif had little choice—the final say rested with Western powers. If Gaddafi refused, Libya faced myriad sanctions.
This was an uneven war of attrition. Unlike North Korea—which understood its nuclear program cemented its strategic value and tolerated by neighbors—Libya had no reliable allies. Ambitious to lead the Arab world and Africa, Gaddafi instead alienated Britain, the U.S., and France. To mend fences, he even offended the Soviet Union. Libya was truly surrounded by enemies.
Major nodded. "Good. If your father is willing to negotiate disarmament, I'll introduce you to Washington. If the U.S. is willing to move forward, sanctions and embargoes will be lifted, and Europe will improve ties."
Britain's plan was clear. Europe had long coveted Libya's resources, but Gaddafi was an erratic obstacle. By currying favor with Washington, Major aimed to sidestep traditional European powers like France and Germany, sacrificing Libya as a prize for the U.S.'s loyal ally.
After all, this was classic Britain—the perennial European troublemaker for centuries.