Even when the European-Iranian agreement to halt Iran's uranium-enrichment program looked solid, the United States was blunt in its disapproval. The ink was barely dry on the accord when the Bush administration, it appears, began trying to derail it.

First, rather than endorse the accord, Secretary of State Colin Powell essentially accused the Iranians of lying when they said their nuclear program was for peaceful purposes. He announced that new intelligence showed Iran is developing a nuclear warhead to arm its Shahab-3 ballistic missiles. Then, at a Nov. 20 meeting of heads of state in Santiago, Chile, President Bush stated unequivocally that Iran is trying to build a nuclear weapon.

Why would the administration take such a combative stance? Because hard-liners within the administration thought Tehran would use the settlement to buy time for building nuclear weapons, and that the United States would be better off bombing Iran's suspected weapons sites.

Proponents of using military force against Iran have not yet won the argument within the Bush administration. But the past two weeks of strong pronouncements about the threat Iran poses suggest that the military option may be gaining ground. And Iran's last-minute attempts to maintain some enrichment capabilities -- which by press time Friday were threatening to kill the European agreement -- no doubt strengthened the hard-liners' hand.

Before the United States even considers such a drastic step as airstrikes against suspected nuclear weapons sites -- or even trying to compel the United Nations to endorse new economic sanctions against Iran -- it is essential that our leaders be clear about what they are trying to accomplish in Iran and whether such actions will help or hurt.

If the ultimate goal is to create a democracy -- one that would not fear the United States and therefore have less use for the bomb -- then dual-track diplomacy with Iran's government and with its people is more likely to work than military action.

Probably the most important question the administration's leaders should ask themselves is whether Iran, even a nuclear-armed Iran, poses a direct threat to the United States and its allies.

The answer, we believe, is no.

The mullahs who rule Tehran long ago gave up their ideological quest to "export'' revolution. Like the last generation of octogenarians who ruled the Soviet Union, Iran's leaders today want nuclear weapons as a means to help them preserve their power, not to help them spread their model of theocratic rule to other countries.

Deterrence works

In other words, even if Iran's rulers succeeded in building nuclear bombs, they would be very unlikely to take on the United States and its vast nuclear arsenal or to attack Israel. (The mullahs in Tehran understand that any nuclear attack against Israel would trigger full retaliation from the United States.) In dealing with Iran, deterrence works.

Tehran would also be unlikely to pass a bomb to Islamist terrorists, despite its support of Arab terrorist organizations that continue to attack Israel. One reason, again, is deterrence. Iran's rulers know that the United States would probably be able to trace the weapon back to them and retaliate.

The threat of a nuclear Iran comes, instead, from the reaction it is almost sure to spark in the region and the world, possibly sending Egypt and Saudi Arabia on their own quests for nuclear weapons.

Such an arms race would undermine the longstanding Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, an agreement signed by nearly 190 countries, that has proved indispensable in preventing the spread of nuclear weapons.

Bush administration hard-liners want to save that arms-control treaty by using arms. In advocating a "surgical'' military strike against Iran's most important nuclear facilities, including the once hidden enrichment plant in Natanz, they cite Israel's airstrike against Iraq's nuclear complex at Osirak in 1981 as a model of success. They argue that an American (or Israeli) strike would not end Iran's nuclear aspirations, but would dramatically slow its program and make the mullahs reconsider the costs of trying to restart it.

Attack would backfire

But a pre-emptive military strike would instead do just what the hard-liners in Tehran hope for: It would unite their people behind them.

Even a precise bombing campaign would kill hundreds if not thousands of innocent Iranians; destroy ancient buildings of historical and religious importance; trigger an Iranian counterstrike, however feeble, against American targets and friends in the region, and spur the mullahs to increase their direct support for American enemies in the Shiite part of Iraq.

Even more important, an attack would only encourage Tehran to redouble its efforts to build a bomb, just as Saddam Hussein sped up his efforts after the 1981 strike. It would also hurt the democratic opposition movement inside Iran, which is already in retreat and cannot afford another setback. After an attack, Iranians, not unlike Americans, are sure to rally around the flag and their government.

If the administration decides, in the end, that American military options are limited and counterproductive, the only serious way to impede the development of Iranian nuclear weapons is through negotiation. Iran's recent accord with France, Britain and Germany is only temporary, and negotiations are expected to continue.

If the United States were to jump in now, it could try to ensure that our European allies accept nothing less than a permanent and verifiable dismantling of Iran's enrichment capabilities, as well as banning any plutonium production.

Allowing the Iranians to enrich even some uranium, which they say will be used merely to feed their nuclear power plant, makes it too easy to cheat. To make the deal work, the United States would need to join with Europe, Russia and China in pledging to guarantee Iran a permanent and continuous supply of enriched uranium. To make the deal even more attractive, the fuel could be offered at reduced prices.

Even under the strictest inspection regime, Iran's leaders will cheat, as they have often done in the past, and they will eventually divert enriched uranium from peaceful to military purposes. But the harder and more transparent the allies can make it, the longer it will take Iran to begin building bombs.

In the long run, the world's only serious hope for stopping Iran from developing nuclear weapons is the development of a democratic government in Tehran. A democratic Iran will become an ally of the Western world no longer in need of a deterrent threat against the United States.

Democracy in Iran therefore obviously serves U.S. national interests. Yet Bush administration officials (as well as their predecessors in the Clinton, Bush and Reagan administrations) have not succeeded in developing a strategy for advancing the cause of Iranian democracy.

New strategy

What is needed is a radical new approach that would nurture change from within the country, in alliance with Iran's democratic movement, rather than impose change from without.

A first step would be to establish an American presence in Tehran, as many in Iran's democratic opposition have proposed. Now decades old, the U.S. policy of isolating Iran has not weakened but instead strengthened its autocratic government.

Of course, we are not suggesting that the United States open an embassy in Tehran and turn a blind eye to human rights abuses; that would only contribute to the further consolidation of the mullahs' hold on power. But we are suggesting a new strategy that would allow American government officials, as well as civic leaders, academics and business people, to engage directly with Iranian society.

This engagement cannot occur on a widespread scale without some level of diplomatic relations and some revision of the American sanctions against Iran. Then, more Western foundations would be able to make grants to pro-democracy Iranian organizations, while business people -- and especially the Iranian-American business community in the United States -- would be able to leverage their capital and know-how to influence economic and political change inside Iran. A U.S. presence in Iran would, not incidentally, also enhance the West's ability to monitor Iran's nuclear program.

Critics of engagement argue that diplomatic relations with Iran will reward this "axis of evil'' member for years of supporting terrorism and pursuing nuclear weapons. In fact, an American presence in Iran is the mullahs' worst nightmare.

Iran's government has long used its ongoing tensions with the United States, as well as the embargo, as an excuse for the economic difficulties that are, in fact, the direct results of the regime's incompetence and corruption. Tehran's leaders have conveniently labeled nearly all of their opponents as "agents of America.''

Most important, part of the regime's self-declared legitimacy lies in its claim to be the only Muslim country fighting what it sees as U.S. imperialism. If the United States could prove it's not an enemy of the Iranian people, the legitimacy of Iran's leaders would diminish.

Reagan's course

In the first years of his presidency, Ronald Reagan labeled the Soviet Union the "evil empire'' and went out of his way to avoid contact with such a regime.

Over time, however, Reagan charted a new course of dual-track diplomacy. He engaged Kremlin leaders (well before Gorbachev) in arms control, while also fostering contacts and information flow between the West and the Soviet people in the hope of opening them up to the possibilities of democracy.

In the long run, it was not arms control with the Soviets, but democratization within the Soviet Union, that made the United States safer.

If George W. Bush desires a foreign-policy legacy as grand as Reagan's, now is the time to think big and change course as dramatically as Reagan did.

I begin with a proposition. There are a great many pressing problems in the world. There is population growth and economic development, with attending pressures on resources - including food and that other essential, water. There is a continuing global security crisis, augmented by the rise in terrorism. There is the chronically inequitable distribution in resources between the rich nations of the North and the poor nations of the South. And there is the steadily growing body of evidence for a major reorganization of the global climate regime.

My proposition is that the last of these is the most serious threat - not only because it will profoundly affect the lives of our children and our grandchildren in a direct way, but also because it will interact powerfully with every single one of the other problems I have listed.

Let me begin with the science underlying climate change. Last week I helped organize a symposium and briefing session on climate science for press, policy-makers, and the public, supported by the Hewlett Foundation and with co-sponsorship from the Conference Board. We had ten of the most distinguished climate scientists in the United States, led off by Sherry Rowland, the Nobel Laureate in Chemistry. The purpose was to make a careful assessment of the science - what we know for sure, what we think likely, and what are interesting but unproven possibilities.

So here is a short summary of what we know. General Circulation Models - climate models that take into account variations in the sun's energy, volcanic activity, and other natural phenomena - explained fluctuations in average global temperature very well over most of the past thousand years. But for the past hundred years, these same models faithfully reproduce global temperature history ONLY if they include the greenhouse gases - carbon dioxide, methane, and chlorofluorocarbons - that are by-products of human economic activity. That is why the average temperature of the globe has risen by about one degree F, and the sea level has risen by between 10 and 20 cm., in the last century. The primary causative agent is carbon dioxide, which in preindustrial times was about 280 ppm/v and has now reached 380ppm/v. It is rising continually as the activities that produce it are proceeding on a business as usual basis. That is because the failure of the Kyoto protocol - a failure both because its targets were inadequate, and also because they were unattainable by many of the participating nations - has left us without any basis for meeting the goals of the 1992 Framework Convention on Climate Change. Just to remind us, the US is a signatory and a party to that agreement, under which we are committed to limit atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse gases to avoid "dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate system."

Why, a dozen years later, is there some doubt about the dangers of this interference? The C02 we add to the atmosphere will stay there; its average residence time is a century. There is no disagreement about whether average global temperature will rise; it will. The scientific debate is about how much. For the future we depend again on the General Circulation Models. It's reassuring that when applied to past climates in "back-casting" efforts, like the example I gave a moment ago, these actually predict climate history so accurately. Perhaps more interesting, they regularly somewhat underestimate the magnitude of the real climate changes - that is, Nature regularly turns out to be harsher than the models suggest. Projecting the models into the future, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, and an evaluation by the National Academies prepared at President Bush's request, estimate that by the end of this century, the increase in average global temperature will be between 1.4 and 5.8 degrees Centigrade.

Why such a range? These models, like most, contain some uncertainties. Some of these are scientific: how increased cloud cover might affect the outcome, since clouds can either cool the climate by reflecting sunlight from above, or warm it by trapping heat that is leaving from below; how changes in the earth's albedo due to melting ice might accelerate heating, and so on. Aerosols produced by volcanic eruptions have a cooling effect, as the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo did in giving us two unusually cool years in the early 90's. Other uncertainties are economic and social: we don't know how national policies and international agreements will serve to restrain the amount of greenhouse gases we are adding.

These uncertainties - about half due to the models themselves, and the rest to social and economic unknowns -- have provided arguments for those who prefer to postpone economically difficult approaches for controlling greenhouse gas emissions. But it is important that even at the very lowest estimates, there will be substantial changes in the nature of human life on the only planet we currently occupy. The rather modest impacts of the past century have already produced profound changes in regional climate dynamics. Substantial ice-sheet melting and retreat is taking place both in the Arctic and in the West Antarctic ice sheet. In the Arctic, where climate warming has been extreme, sea ice is sharply diminished and rivers become ice-free much earlier. Low latitude mountain glaciers are shrinking; the famous snow-capped summit of Kilimanjaro will be bare within fifteen years, converting hundreds of old African safari shots into historic treasures.

Biological cycles are experiencing the effects of warming, with upward extensions of the range of Alpine flora and advances in the time of flowering or breeding by an average of 5 days per decade. The models have all also predicted more frequent and severe weather events, and we have had heat waves in the upper Midwest and Paris, accelerated beach erosion on coasts all over the world, and disastrous floods and landslides in Central America.

That is now, but of course we are more interested in the future. What the models tell us unambiguously is that the climate system is headed for further disruption. The standard scenario foresees a steady, ramp-like increase in average global temperature, with a concomitant rise in sea level, but records of past climate tell us that it is riddled with abrupt changes - something that the models fail to predict well. A possible alternative involves a change in major ocean circulation patterns - especially in the North Atlantic, where a clockwise gyre brings warm equatorial water up via the Gulf Stream. As it flows Northward and then crosses Eastward, it is cooled by the atmosphere, becomes more saline through evaporation, and then sinks to return as a cold deep current. If large discharges of fresh meltwater or rain made this water less dense, it could fail to sink and thus disrupt the entire cycle.

A fictionalized version of such a scenario appears in the disaster film "The Day After Tomorrow," which you should see only for amusement. Beyond that silliness lies a real prospect that a gradual change in average global temperature could intercept the threshold for some non-linear, dynamic process, triggering abrupt changes in either direction. Of course there is uncertainty: we are engaged in a large-scale, uncontrolled experiment on the only planet we have.

Let's consider some collateral impacts. A group of us at Stanford was asked by the Carnegie Commission on Preventing Deadly Conflict to look - among other things -- at ways in which environmental change might alter the circumstances under which human populations might be placed. Climate change was an important variable. One example we looked at was the impact of sea level rise, along with storm surges from extreme weather events, on the Ganges-Brahmaputra delta. Flood disasters already occur there regularly. 15 million people live within 2 meter above sea level, and are vulnerable to abrupt displacement. We know they will have to go somewhere; in the past they have fled in much smaller numbers to Bengal. The security problems arising from a massive influx of a traditionally hostile population, combined with an almost certain high level of cholera infection, are not difficult to imagine.

Water is a desperately important resource in most parts of the world, and drought is often followed by famine or emigration. Here in the US, warmer winters threaten mountain snowpacks and will soon demand the revision of interstate and international water allocation agreements. Maritime rivers are already undertaking management steps to deal with saline intrusions due to sea level rise or storm surges. In Great Britain, the barrier that protects London from occasional flooding of the Thames estuary is now being used six times a year compared to less than once a year in the 1980's.

Agriculture, of course, is the most essential of human activities. The regional distribution of global warming impacts may be at least temporarily kind to temperate-zone food production. But the models all predict an increased incidence of mid-continent droughts as climate change progresses, and we know that the American Midwest has in the past experienced droughts both deeper and longer than the one in the 30's that led to the Dust Bowl migrations. Irrigation is an answer to drought, but in the six High Plains states, dryland wheat production depends upon the Ogallala Aquifer, a buried ice-age storage well that is being so rapidly depleted that it is already unusable in its southern portion. And in the tropics, where people are poorest and capacity to adapt is minimal, the consequences of even modest warming will be far more serious.

Infectious diseases are spread by vectors, like the Anopheles malaria mosquito, that have their own patterns of reproduction, movement, and climate sensitivity. In parts of Africa where vertical topography dominates, warmer and rainier seasons cause malaria incidence to rise in higher-altitude locations. In a warmer and wetter world, more of the same can be expected.

So climate change is not an isolated problem. Instead, it is likely to interact with most of the other problems humans face all over the world. Thus I hope that this meeting will help encourage us to prepare a sound portfolio of risk-reducing measures. These will not, I must tell you, bring us out of the woods. Our destiny is partly built in -- to the heat that is already locked into our oceans, to the greenhouse gases that are already in our atmosphere and will increase by another 50% or more no matter what we do, and to the justified economic appetites of the developing world. What we will be talking about, it should be clear, are ways of limiting the damage to manageable levels, NOT preserving the status quo. We lost that years ago.

So the contemporary policy challenge amounts to a bet about risk: are the consequences of business as usual likely to entail costs greater than those of beginning to mitigate those consequences now? Other nations - the UK, several EU countries, and Japan - are making substantial commitments. Some industries - British Petroleum, Royal Dutch Shell, and Swiss Re, for example - have undertaken steps of their own. The insurance burden from the exploding rates of coastal erosion and storm damage has pushed the insurance industry to lead. If companies fail to participate in emissions reduction and join with others to resist such measures, questions are already being raised. If you believe so strongly that climate change is a myth, Swiss Re might say, then surely you won't mind a climate-related events exclusion from your Directors and Officers insurance policy.

But we can't count on voluntary actions, and the United States so far has only announced a long-range research program that, although it looks reasonable, makes NO current commitments to mitigate our contribution, about a quarter of the world's, to the global warming problem. We must have a more aggressive national policy to purchase insurance against this risk.

It will not be cheap. We have old, coal-fired power plants in this country; it may take subsidies to replace them with modern, less carbon-intensive facilities that run on natural gas. States like mine are already driving the transportation sector to ultra-low emission, and that may move the domestic industry in a positive direction. Some of us will have to give up our reflex opposition to nuclear power and begin comparing its risks realistically against those of global climate change. Although the room for alternative energy sources (photovoltaic, wind, geothermal) is limited, these options need encouragement. Energy conservation measures have, at several times in the past, turned economic predictions on their head by their success, and the right incentives could yield real benefits there.

The portfolio I have just described is needed, but will not be enough. We know that market-based mechanisms for emissions control can work, because they did in the 1990 Clean Air Act Amendments that limited SO2 emissions. The bill proposed by Senators McCain and Lieberman would mandate a cap-and-trade program for controlling carbon dioxide emissions. Similar systems are being considered by regional assemblages of states in the Northwest and the Northeast, and that may encourage the development of a national system - which could then build trading relationships with other nations that are moving toward similar regimes. A case for this approach is elegantly made in the Council on Foreign Relations Policy Initiative on Climate Change, by my colleague David Victor.

The United States is in a position of natural leadership here. It is the most powerful nation - and the world's leading producer of greenhouse gases. Plainly it is in its own national interest, in multiple ways, to reduce its consumption of fossil fuels. To see it failing in this most vital, globally sensitive matter is a national embarrassment.

Perhaps no other country has more to lose from North Korea's acquisition of a sizeable nuclear arsenal than China. The existence of such weapons would not only endanger the city of Beijing but also provoke a regional arms race in which Japan, South Korea, and possibly even Taiwan would eventually develop their own strategic deterrents. Given these facts, it is surprising that China has not acted more forcefully to persuade Pyongyang to terminate its nuclear program.

The explanation for this reluctance is the importance Beijing attaches to regional stability. If the North Korean regime were to collapse, a refugee crisis would ensue as starving people flooded across the border into northeastern China, and the way would be opened for South Korean and American troops to advance up the peninsula towards Beijing.

If the Bush administration wants to enlist Chinese help against Pyongyang, therefore, it must first assuage these very reasonable concerns.

China's importance to the United States stems from the absence of other sources of leverage over Pyongyang. Military action against North Korea is an unattractive option because Kim Jong Il and his generals could retaliate massively. Promises of long-term economic aid in exchange for Pyongyang's renouncing its nuclear aspirations also offers little hope. Kim has a long record of consenting to such deals and then surreptitiously reviving his armament efforts.

What is needed is an intermediate form of suasion. China is the only power that possesses this sort of leverage. According to South Korean analysts, in 2002 China supplied 31 percent of North Korea's imports and accounted for 37 percent of its exports. In addition, each year Beijing gives several hundred thousand tons of food aid to its troublesome neighbor, and, now that the United States and Japan have suspended their oil shipments, provides the preponderance of its fuel.

Beijing has occasionally used its influence to express discontent with North Korean behavior, and, by all accounts, the diplomatic dialogue between the two states has also become more acrimonious of late.

However, Beijing will presumably not press Pyongyang much further unless it is assured of the Bush administration's goodwill. In practice, this means that Washington must identify and alleviate China's specific geopolitical concerns. If Beijing fears a refugee crisis, then the United States and its allies must promise to help finance the care of the displaced and perhaps to absorb some significant number of North Korean emigrants. If Beijing fears the approach of American military forces, Washington should consider promising to limit U.S. activities north of the demilitarized zone.

While demonstrating that the United States is willing to accommodate China's needs, the Bush administration must also prove that Pyongyang's policies represent an immediate threat to East Asian stability. To do this, Washington needs to engage more frequently and more conciliatorily in diplomatic talks with Kim and his representatives. For with each abortive discussion, each rejection of reasonable American gestures, the North Koreans push Beijing closer to the conclusion that they pose an unacceptable danger to China's national security interests.

The effect of this policy of dual engagement with China and North Korea would almost certainly be positive. As Beijing's attitude towards Pyongyang hardened, the world might see a sharp reduction in its oil shipments, the deployment of more troops to the North Korean border, or overt discussions with the United States about the future of the peninsula. This would be the strongest possible signal to Pyongyang, short of war, that the world will not tolerate its emergence as a major nuclear power. If, on the other hand, he remained intransigent until the intensified pressure caused North Korea to collapse, Washington and Beijing would still be relatively well situated to deal with the ensuing challenges.

It is through the joint resolution of serious challenges that potential rivals like the United States and China learn to trust each other. If there is a silver lining to the North Korean cloud, it is this opportunity to improve bilateral communications in anticipation of future exigencies.

The writer is a fellow at the Asia-Pacific Research Center, Stanford Institute for International Studies.

STANFORD, California Perhaps no other country has more to lose from North Korea's acquisition of a sizeable nuclear arsenal than China. The existence of such weapons would not only endanger the city of Beijing but also provoke a regional arms race in which Japan, South Korea, and possibly even Taiwan would eventually develop their own strategic deterrents. Given these facts, it is surprising that China has not acted more forcefully to persuade Pyongyang to terminate its nuclear program.

The explanation for this reluctance is the importance Beijing attaches to regional stability. If the North Korean regime were to collapse, a refugee crisis would ensue as starving people flooded across the border into northeastern China, and the way would be opened for South Korean and American troops to advance up the peninsula towards Beijing.

If the Bush administration wants to enlist Chinese help against Pyongyang, therefore, it must first assuage these very reasonable concerns.

China's importance to the United States stems from the absence of other sources of leverage over Pyongyang. Military action against North Korea is an unattractive option because Kim Jong Il and his generals could retaliate massively. Promises of long-term economic aid in exchange for Pyongyang's renouncing its nuclear aspirations also offers little hope. Kim has a long record of consenting to such deals and then surreptitiously reviving his armament efforts.

What is needed is an intermediate form of suasion. China is the only power that possesses this sort of leverage. According to South Korean analysts, in 2002 China supplied 31 percent of North Korea's imports and accounted for 37 percent of its exports. In addition, each year Beijing gives several hundred thousand tons of food aid to its troublesome neighbor, and, now that the United States and Japan have suspended their oil shipments, provides the preponderance of its fuel.

Beijing has occasionally used its influence to express discontent with North Korean behavior, and, by all accounts, the diplomatic dialogue between the two states has also become more acrimonious of late.

However, Beijing will presumably not press Pyongyang much further unless it is assured of the Bush administration's goodwill. In practice, this means that Washington must identify and alleviate China's specific geopolitical concerns. If Beijing fears a refugee crisis, then the United States and its allies must promise to help finance the care of the displaced and perhaps to absorb some significant number of North Korean emigrants. If Beijing fears the approach of American military forces, Washington should consider promising to limit U.S. activities north of the demilitarized zone.

While demonstrating that the United States is willing to accommodate China's needs, the Bush administration must also prove that Pyongyang's policies represent an immediate threat to East Asian stability. To do this, Washington needs to engage more frequently and more conciliatorily in diplomatic talks with Kim and his representatives. For with each abortive discussion, each rejection of reasonable American gestures, the North Koreans push Beijing closer to the conclusion that they pose an unacceptable danger to China's national security interests.

The effect of this policy of dual engagement with China and North Korea would almost certainly be positive. As Beijing's attitude towards Pyongyang hardened, the world might see a sharp reduction in its oil shipments, the deployment of more troops to the North Korean border, or overt discussions with the United States about the future of the peninsula. This would be the strongest possible signal to Pyongyang, short of war, that the world will not tolerate its emergence as a major nuclear power. If, on the other hand, he remained intransigent until the intensified pressure caused North Korea to collapse, Washington and Beijing would still be relatively well situated to deal with the ensuing challenges.

It is through the joint resolution of serious challenges that potential rivals like the United States and China learn to trust each other. If there is a silver lining to the North Korean cloud, it is this opportunity to improve bilateral communications in anticipation of future exigencies.

The writer is a fellow at the Asia-Pacific Research Center, Stanford Institute for International Studies. Enlisting Beijing

Since the Iron Curtain came crashing down, American and Russian diplomats have been searching for a special relationship between their countries to replace Cold War animosity.

Security matters have not yielded much. On issues such as the expansion of Nato, stabilising Yugoslavia and the war in Chechnya, the two have sought each other's tolerance more than co-operation. Nor have the two nations developed much economic interaction, as a result of Russia's weak institutions and faltering economy. Thus, by default, "energy" has become the new special topic in Russian-American relations.

This enthusiasm is misplaced, however. A collapse of oil prices in the aftermath of an invasion of Iraq may soon lay bare the countries' divergent interests. Russia needs high oil prices to keep its economy afloat, whereas US policy would be largely unaffected by falling energy costs. Moreover, cheerleaders of a new Russian-American oil partnership fail to understand that there is not much the two can do to influence the global energy market or even investment in Russia's oil sector. The focus on oil has also eclipsed another area in which US and Russian common interests could run deeper: nuclear power. Joint efforts to develop new technologies for generating nuclear power and managing nuclear waste could result in a huge payoff for both countries. These issues, which are the keys to keeping nuclear power viable, are formally on the Russian-American political agenda, but little has been done to tap the potential for co -operation. Given Russia's scientific talent and the urgent need to reinvigorate nuclear non-proliferation programmes, a relatively minor commitment of diplomatic and financial resources could deliver significant long-term benefits to the United States.

On the surface, energy co-operation seems a wise choice. Russia is rich in hydrocarbons and the US wants them. Oil and gas account for two-fifths of Russian exports. Last year, Russia reclaimed its status, last held in the late 1980s, as the world's top oil producer. Its oil output this year is expected to top eight million barrels per day and is on track to rise further. Russian oil firms also made their first shipments to US markets last year - some symbolically purchased as part of US efforts to augment its strategic petroleum reserve. In addition, four Russian oil companies are preparing a new, large port in Murmansk as part of a plan to supply more than 10 per cent of total US oil imports within a decade.

Meanwhile, the US remains the world's largest consumer and importer of oil. This year, it will import about 60 per cent of the oil it burns, and the US Energy Information Administration expects foreign dependence will rise to about 70 per cent by 2010, and continue inching upwards thereafter. Although the US economy is much less sensitive to fluctuations in oil prices than it was three decades ago, diversification and stability in world oil markets are a constant worry.

War jitters and political divisions cast a long shadow over the Persian Gulf, source of one-quarter of the world's oil. In Nigeria, the largest African oil exporter, sectarian violence periodically not only interrupts oil operations but also sent Miss World contestants packing last year. A scheme by Latin America's top producer, Venezuela, to pump up its share of world production helped trigger a collapse in world oil prices in the late 1990s and ushered in the leftist government of President Hugo Chavez. Last year, labour strikes aimed at unseating Mr Chavez shut Venezuela's ports and helped raise prices to more than US$ 30 (HK$ 234) a barrel. Next to these players, Russia is a paragon of stability.

The aftermath of a war in Iraq would probably provide a first test for the shallow new Russian-American partnership. Most attention on Russian interests in Iraq has focused on two issues: Iraq's lingering Soviet-era debt, variously measured at US$ 7 billion to US$ 12 billion, and the dominant position of Russian companies in controlling leases for several Iraqi oilfields. Both are red herrings. No company that has signed lease deals with Saddam Hussein's government could believe those rights are secure. Russia's top oil company, Lukoil, knew that when it met Iraqi opposition leaders in an attempt to hedge its bets for possible regime change. (Saddam's discovery of those contacts proved the point: he cancelled, then later reinstated, Lukoil's interests in the massive Western Kurna field.)

Russian officials have pressed the US to guarantee the existing contracts, but officials have wisely demurred. There would be no faster way to confirm Arab suspicions that regime change is merely a cover for taking control of Iraq's oil than by awarding the jewels before a new government is known and seated.

Of course, the impact of a war on world oil supply and price is hard to predict. A long war and a tortuous rebuilding process could deprive the market of Iraqi crude oil (about two million barrels a day, last year). Damage to nearby fields in Kuwait and Saudi Arabia could make oil even more scarce. And already tight inventories and continued troubles in Venezuela could deliver a "perfect storm" of soaring oil prices.

The most plausible scenario, however, is bad news for Russia: a brief war, quickly followed by increased Iraqi exports, along with a clear policy of releasing oil from America's reserves to deter speculators. A more lasting Russian-American energy agenda would focus on subjects beyond the current, fleeting common interest in oil. To find an area in which dialogue can truly make a difference, Russia and the US should look to the subject that occupied much of their effort in the 1990s, but that both sides neglected too quickly: nuclear power.

With the end of the Cold War, the two nations created a multi-billion-dollar programme to sequester Russia's prodigious quantities of fissile material and nuclear technology. The goal was to prevent these "loose nukes" from falling into the hands of terrorists or hostile states.

The Co-operative Threat Reduction programme also included funds to employ Russian scientists through joint research projects and academic exchanges.

Inevitably, it has failed to meet all its goals. In a country where central control has broken down and scientific salaries have evaporated, it is difficult to halt the departure of every nuclear resource. Nor is it surprising that US appropriators have failed to deliver the billions of dollars promised for the collective endeavour. Other priorities have constantly intervened, and Russia's uneven record in complying with arms control agreements has made appropriation of funds a perpetual congressional battle. Various good ideas for reinvigorating the programme have gone without funding and bureaucratic attention - even in the post-September 11 political environment, in which practically any idea for fighting terrorism can get money.

Russia has opened nuclear waste encapsulation and storage facilities near Krasnoyarsk, raising the possibility of creating an international storage site for nuclear waste. This topic has long been taboo, but it is an essential issue to raise if the global nuclear power industry is to move beyond the inefficiencies of small-scale nuclear waste management.

Russia should also be brought into worldwide efforts to design new nuclear reactors. The global nuclear research community, under US leadership, has outlined comprehensive and implementable plans for the next generation of fission reactors. The Russian nuclear programme is one of the world's leaders in handling the materials necessary for new reactor designs. Yet Russia is not currently a member of the US government-led Generation IV International Forum, one of the main vehicles for international co-operation on fission reactors and their fuel cycles. Top US priorities must include integrating Russia into that effort, endorsing Russia's relationships with other key nuclear innovators (such as Japan), and delivering on the promise made at last summer's G8 meeting of leaders of the world's biggest economies - to help Russia secure its nuclear materials.

For opponents of nuclear power, no plan will be acceptable. But the emerging recognition that global warming is a real threat demands that nations develop serious, environmentally friendly energy alternatives. Of all the major options available today, only nuclear power and hydroelectricity offer usable energy with essentially zero emissions of greenhouse gases.

Neither government should be naive about the sustainability of this endeavour. Russia is not an ideal partner because its borders have been a sieve for nuclear know-how and because its nuclear managers are suspected of abetting the outflow. Thus, plans for nuclear waste storage, for example, must ensure that they render the waste a minimal threat for proliferation. The US must also be more mindful of Russian sensitivity to co-operation on matters that, to date, have been military secrets.

Another difficult issue that both nations must confront is Russia's relationship with Iran. A perennial thorn in ties, Russia's nuclear co -operation with officials in Tehran owes much not just to Iranian money but to the complex relationship between the two countries over drilling and export routes for Caspian oil. This link to Iran cannot be wished away, as it is rooted in Russia's very geography. Any sustainable nuclear partnership between the US and Russia must develop a political strategy to handle this reality.

The world, including the US, needs the option of viable nuclear power. Yet Russia's talented scientists and nuclear resources sit idle, ready for action.