The Austrian village of Seibersdorf is so anonymous that cab drivers from nearby Vienna have difficulty finding it. But it is home to a laboratory complex whose scientists have the power to start a war or keep the peace.
Hunched over electron microscopes and mass spectrometers, they are the world's nuclear detectives, analyzing minute fragments of radioactive matter collected by UN inspectors in places such as Iran and Libya. Testing particles as small as one-hundredth of the width of a human hair, they can spot the secret yet indelible signs of a nuclear program.
It was in Seibersdorf last summer that a scientist analyzing dust taken from a cotton swipe used inside facilities in Iran discovered evidence of highly-enriched uranium -- the key component of an atomic bomb. It was the first hint of a program that had remained hidden for 18 years.
Like DNA from a crime scene, analysis of these particles also provides vital clues to the source of any nuclear material. Each radioactive isotope has its own signature.
Scientists at Seibersdorf work for the UN's nuclear watchdog -- the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). They are just one part of a nuclear police force that is at the forefront of a war against a growing black market in nuclear material, equipment and atomic know-how. The battle involves rogue scientists selling their technical knowledge, nations desperate to join the nuclear-weapon states and middlemen turning a quick buck by trading equipment and material.
Dramatic evidence from Iran and now Libya reveals a clandestine and sophisticated network stretching from North Korea, Malaysia and China to Russia, Germany and Dubai. Yet one country more than any other stands accused of easing this proliferation. In the network of illegal radioactive trade, all roads point to Pakistan. More precisely, they lead to the Khan Research Laboratories in Kahuta in north Pakistan.
Uranium-235 is the holy grail in bomb-making. It is a specific radioactive isotope whose atoms can split in two, releasing the huge amount of fissile energy vital to an atomic weapon. One way of acquiring it is to obtain uranium ore from the ground -- which has minute amounts of uranium-235 -- then "enrich" it using thousands of centrifuges. This involves putting unrefined uranium into a tube and spinning it at twice the speed of sound to expel any impurities. By doing this, the amount of uranium-235 becomes more concentrated.
While this process may not sound too complicated, it requires a feat of supreme technical engineering involving a number of complex components. In particular, the rotors of the centrifuge spin so fast they need to be made of extremely strong material and be perfectly balanced.
In the mid-1970s, these engineering problems were faced by a Pakistani metallurgist, Abdul Qadeer Khan. An ardent nationalist, he had just seen India test its first nuclear bomb. At the time he was working in the Netherlands for an Anglo-Dutch-German nuclear engineering consortium called Urenco. Through his work there, Khan became aware of secret blueprints for two types of uranium enrichment centrifuges: one based on rotors made of aluminum and another based on a highly strengthened alloy of steel.
Khan went on to steal the blueprints and a list of Urenco suppliers. With the blessing of the Pakistani government, he established the Khan Research Laboratories near Islamabad and, with the help of the Chinese, went on to secretly develop the country's atomic bomb.
When, in 1998, Pakistan tested its first nuclear bomb in the desert of Baluchistan, Khan became a hero in his home country as the "father of the Pakistani nuclear program." He once said: "All Western countries are not only the enemies of Pakistan but in fact of Islam."
His fundamentalist sympathies mean that it is perhaps no surprise that he is also known as the "godfather of the Islamic bomb."
Evidence has now emerged from Iran and Libya that Khan's program in Pakistan may be the source of the greatest level of nuclear weapons proliferation since the Cold War.
UN inspectors who have recently visited a number of facilities in Libya discovered large amounts of aluminum centrifuge parts that had "all the hallmarks of the Urenco designs" stolen by Khan. Pakistan used these to enrich uranium before later turning to the more complex steel centrifuges.
A Vienna-based diplomat familiar with the Libyan inspections said: "The big surprise was that components found were almost off-the-shelf turnkey equipment. It was as if somebody had been shopping at Ikea and just needed to put the bits together."
The diplomat said this was unlike Iraq's secret nuclear program, which required large teams of scientists to deal with research issues and solve mechanical problems. He said: "The worry is that if a country like Libya -- with little industrial infrastructure and a small population -- could lay its hands on this equipment, then a large country might be able to set up a weapons program at a very fast pace indeed."
Libyan authorities have been helping the IAEA to piece together the "cartel" of middlemen feeding this clandestine network of nuclear know-how and equipment. They have been helped by the US seizure of a German-registered ship in the Suez Canal last October destined for Libya with thousands of parts -- believed to be Malaysian-made but based on Pakistani designs -- for aluminum centrifuges.
The UN inspectors uncovered evidence that many of the same middlemen were responsible for arming Libya and Iran. Last November, Iran finally admitted to a vast, secret procurement network that acquired thousands of sensitive parts and tools from numerous countries over an 18-year period.
It is believed that rogue scientists from Pakistan, motivated by million-dollar payouts, were helped by German middlemen and Sri Lankan businessmen based in Dubai. The middlemen are believed to have secured items for Iran from European, Asian and North American companies.
Until the end of last year the Pakistani government furiously denied that any of its nuclear technology had been "exported."
However, it now accepts that "certain individuals might have violated Pakistani laws for personal gain." Last month Pakistan announced it was questioning four of its scientists over the sale of nuclear secrets, including Khan, but Western officials fear little will come of this inquiry.
The political sensitivity of "arresting" a national hero such as Khan would inflame Islamic sentiment and backfire on both the US and President General Pervez Musharraf, who is an important ally in the war on terrorism. Yet while the "rogue scientist" theory is helpful to all parties in explaining how Pakistani equipment has ended up in Libya and Iran, an added complication is the role played by North Korea.
US intelligence claims that the Pakistani government, through the Khan laboratories, struck a deal which swapped Pakistani nuclear centrifuge technology for North Korean long-range missiles.
South Korean intelligence agents were reported to have discovered the transactions in 2002 and that summer US spy satellites photographed Pakistani cargo planes loading missile parts in North Korea.
Pakistan has denied such a deal, but pressure is mounting for Musharraf to clamp down. Reports have also emerged of Pakistani nuclear scientists visiting Burma. It is clear that the extent of the black market in nuclear weapons technology is only just beginning to emerge. As one of the scientists in Seibersdorf said: "This year looks like being a busy one."
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