The last trains with nuclear warheads were sent to the Russian Federation between May 31 and June 1, 1996, and from June 2, 1996, Ukraine officially became nuclear-free.
According to experts, after gaining independence, Ukraine inherited one of the largest nuclear arsenals in the world. There were about 1,900 strategic nuclear warheads and between 2,650 and 4,200 tactical nuclear warheads on its territory. In addition, Ukraine had 176 intercontinental missile systems — 130 SS-19 (UR-100N) missiles and 46 RT-23 (SS-24), as well as about 44 strategic bombers.
Despite the placement of the nuclear arsenal on Ukrainian territory, control over most of the warheads and launch systems remained in the hands of centralized Soviet, and later Russian, command. Ukraine inherited the weapons themselves and the necessary personnel for their maintenance, but did not have access to the mechanisms for their use. This factor became one of the key points during the negotiations on the withdrawal of nuclear weapons from Ukrainian territory.
On November 16, 1994, Ukraine joined the 1968 Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. As a result of these agreements, it was established that Ukraine renounces the nuclear legacy of the USSR and takes a course towards the complete elimination of its nuclear arsenal, using atomic energy exclusively for peaceful purposes. In return, the leading nuclear powers were to provide Ukraine with security guarantees and assure the absence of threats to its sovereignty or territorial integrity.
The third nuclear potential in the world: what Ukraine received after the collapse of the USSR

In June 1996, Ukraine completed the transfer of its nuclear arsenal to Russia. Formally, this appeared as a step by a young independent country towards a nuclear-free status, international responsibility, and a new security system. But 30 years later, this story is read differently: as a story about the price of trust, the weakness of paper guarantees, and political decisions whose consequences catch up with generations.
Yuriy Kostenko, a people’s deputy of five convocations and Minister of Ecology and Nuclear Safety of Ukraine from 1992 to 1998, writes in lb.ua on June 8, 2026, saw this process from the inside. He was the first head of the Ukrainian government delegation in negotiations with Russia on nuclear disarmament in 1992–1993 and later wrote the book “The History of Ukraine’s Nuclear Disarmament.”
According to him, at the time of the USSR’s collapse, Ukraine received the third-largest nuclear potential in the world — after the USA and Russia. It was not about a symbolic legacy, but about thousands of warheads, strategic missiles, aviation carriers, and enormous material value.
Numbers that today sound like a verdict
On the territory of Ukraine in 1991, there were, according to various estimates, from 3,500 to 4,200 tactical nuclear warheads. These were not only missiles but also aviation bombs, torpedoes, nuclear mines, as well as air defense systems with nuclear charges.
Strategic nuclear weapons were estimated at about two thousand units.
About 1,240 warheads were on strategic missiles, the rest on cruise nuclear missiles.
The economic aspect was especially important, not just the military one. Kostenko claims that the cost of enriched uranium, plutonium, and other material values transferred along with the warheads to Russia could exceed 100 billion dollars.
For Israel, this story is not abstract. The Israeli society understands well that security does not rest solely on diplomatic formulations. In a region where Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, missiles, drones, and the threat of a major war remain part of reality, the question “who can be trusted” sounds not academic but almost daily.
How a nuclear-free status turned into the transfer of weapons to Russia
In 1990, Ukraine, still as the Ukrainian SSR, adopted the Declaration of State Sovereignty. It recorded the intention to become a neutral state and adhere to three non-nuclear principles: not to accept, not to produce, and not to acquire nuclear weapons.
But it’s one thing to make a political declaration against the backdrop of post-Chernobyl sentiments. And quite another to actually transfer a huge nuclear arsenal to a state that was already trying to maintain control over the post-Soviet space.
Kostenko emphasizes: in 1992, Ukraine was moving in the right direction. The Verkhovna Rada did not demand the immediate transfer of weapons to Russia. On the contrary, the parliament set conditions: destruction under international control, a clear disposal mechanism, process financing, compensation, and legally effective security guarantees.
START-1, the Lisbon Protocol, and Ukrainian interest
The START-1 Treaty was signed in 1991 by Mikhail Gorbachev and George H.W. Bush.
The 1992 Lisbon Protocol expanded the circle of participants: the USA, Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Kazakhstan.
These documents provided for the reduction of strategic offensive arms. But, according to Kostenko, they did not mean that Ukraine had to quickly and unconditionally transfer its entire arsenal to Moscow.
The problem began when the executive branch began to act faster and more harshly than the decisions of the parliament allowed.
On December 21, 1991, an agreement on joint measures regarding nuclear weapons was signed in Alma-Ata. In April 1992, a Ukrainian-Russian agreement appeared on the transfer of nuclear munitions from Ukrainian territory to Russian bases for dismantling and destruction.
On paper, it was about destruction. In practice, the weapons went to Russia.
Why this is called a political mistake
Kostenko directly states: the removal of tactical nuclear weapons in 1992 was not sanctioned by the Verkhovna Rada and contradicted its resolutions. According to his version, the Ministry of Defense acted on unofficial instructions from President Leonid Kravchuk.
In 1993, Kostenko was removed from the negotiation process. His place was taken by Valery Shmarov, who initialed agreements on the transfer of Ukrainian nuclear weapons to Russia.
On September 3, 1993, in Massandra, in the presence of the presidents of Ukraine and Russia, the prime ministers signed documents that, according to Kostenko, were a blow to Ukrainian national interests.
This was the moment when Ukraine could negotiate as the owner of a strategic resource but behaved as a party rushing to get rid of its own leverage.
America, Russia, the Budapest Memorandum, and a lesson for the future
In the early 1990s, the USA, according to Kostenko, offered Ukraine not only pressure but also cooperation options. It was about technological assistance, blocking missile launches, processing nuclear warheads into fuel for Ukrainian nuclear power plants, and creating an international disarmament fund.
The American company General Atomics, as Kostenko claims, offered to process Ukrainian warheads into fuel. Other structures offered technologies for deactivating liquid-fueled missiles without the need to transfer everything to Moscow.
This could have given Ukraine both security and energy, and money.
But in the summer of 1993, the situation changed. Russia was included in a big international game, and Ukraine, according to Kostenko, had already practically agreed to transfer the warheads to Moscow behind the back of the American side. At a meeting in London, Russian Ambassador Yuri Dubinin laid the Massandra agreements project before the Americans and made it clear: there was nothing more to discuss.
For the USA, this was a signal that Kyiv itself was turning to Moscow.
Kazakhstan secured conditions for itself. Ukraine — almost nothing
Kostenko separately compares Ukraine with Kazakhstan. Nursultan Nazarbayev did not immediately sign the transfer of nuclear weapons to Russia. Kazakhstan first dealt with its legacy, built relations with the USA, received large investments in the Tengiz oil field, and sold 600 kilograms of highly enriched uranium.
Ukraine, having a significantly larger nuclear potential, could have achieved a much stronger position.
But it did not.
As a result, Russia received weapons, uranium, access to the nuclear fuel market, and strategic advantages. Ukraine received promises, limited compensation, and a document that later turned out to be weaker than many wanted to believe.
It is in this context that it is important today to talk not only about Ukrainian history but also about Israeli experience. NAnews — Israel News | Nikk.Agency considers such stories not as an archive of diplomacy but as a living lesson for countries forced to defend themselves in a world where treaties work only when backed by force.
The Budapest Memorandum: a document that did not become a shield
On December 5, 1994, a memorandum was signed in Budapest between Ukraine, the USA, the United Kingdom, and Russia. Ukraine renounced nuclear weapons, and the signatories confirmed respect for its independence, sovereignty, and existing borders.
But the main question is what these guarantees were.
Kostenko believes: these were not real legally binding security guarantees. The memorandum was not ratified as a full-fledged international treaty with specific protection mechanisms. It rather recorded political promises than created an automatic system of assistance in case of aggression.
After 2014, when Russia seized Crimea and started a war against Ukraine, it became clear: paper did not stop the aggressor.
After February 24, 2022, this became not a theoretical dispute but a tragedy of European scale.
The harshest thought of Kostenko
Yuriy Kostenko speaks directly: if Ukraine had retained nuclear weapons at least in storage, a major war might not have started.
This statement can be discussed, argued with, clarified with technical details, talked about control over codes, the state of systems, international pressure, and Ukraine’s real ability to manage the arsenal. But the political meaning of this phrase is clear: a country that gives up the main deterrent without a reliable replacement risks being left alone with someone who signs treaties only as long as they are beneficial.
Today, Ukraine builds its security not around nuclear heritage but around the army, drones, air defense, Western aid, a European coalition, and its own military production.
And here comes the main conclusion, which is important for Israel as well: security cannot be rented from someone else’s goodwill.
Alliances are important. Treaties are needed. Partner support can be decisive. But no country has the right to build its survival solely on the promise of another capital.
Ukraine paid a terrible price for this lesson.
Israel understands this lesson in its own way — through October 7, the war with Hamas, the Hezbollah threat, the Iranian factor, rocket attacks, and the constant need to keep the army, intelligence, air defense, and society in a state of readiness.
What remains after this story
The history of Ukraine’s nuclear disarmament is not only a story about Kravchuk, Kuchma, Yeltsin, Clinton, Massandra, and Budapest. It is a story about how a young country could bargain from a position of strength but too quickly believed that the new era would be more honest than the old one.
It did not.
Russia took the Ukrainian arsenal, later violated treaties, started a war, occupied territories, and turned nuclear blackmail into a tool of foreign policy.
Ukraine, over three decades, went from a state with the third nuclear potential in the world to a country forced to daily request air defense missiles, ammunition, aviation, and guarantees to protect its cities.
The most painful conclusion sounds simple: if a state gives up power, it must receive another power in return. Not beautiful formulations. Not a memorandum without a mechanism. Not a diplomatic smile at a summit.
But a real system of protection that cannot be ignored.
Israel and nuclear weapons: a power not spoken of aloud
Israel has its own special history in this topic. Unlike Ukraine in the early 1990s, Israel never built its security on a beautiful belief in international promises. Its strategic culture grew from a different logic: a small country, a hostile region, the memory of the Holocaust, the wars of 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, the constant threat of annihilation, and the understanding that in a critical moment, ally help may come late — or not in the needed volume.
Officially, Israel adheres to a policy of nuclear ambiguity: it neither confirms nor denies the presence of nuclear weapons. The classic formula sounds like this: Israel “will not be the first to introduce nuclear weapons to the Middle East.” This phrase has left room for deterrence for decades but does not turn the topic into a public demonstration of power.
This is what distinguishes the Israeli model from many others. Israel does not hold nuclear parades, does not make this topic a daily propaganda tool, and does not build policy on loud threats. But the ambiguity itself works as a signal: the enemy should not be sure where the last red line is.
Why Israel chose silence over declaration
Israeli nuclear policy is not only a matter of weapons. It is a matter of survival, diplomacy, and regional balance.
On one hand, public recognition could increase pressure on Israel through the UN, IAEA, and international campaigns for a nuclear-free Middle East. Israel has not signed the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, and its status differs from official nuclear powers like the USA, Russia, the UK, France, and China.
On the other hand, complete denial is also unnecessary. Israeli deterrence is not about an official sign on the door but about the enemy’s understanding: an attempt to destroy the state of Israel could lead to consequences that cannot be calculated in advance.
This is the meaning of strategic ambiguity. It is not for an internal show. It is for those in Tehran, Damascus, Beirut, or elsewhere who may one day decide that Israel can be pushed to the brink of existence.
Ukraine and Israel: two different lessons of one era
After 1991, Ukraine received the third nuclear potential in the world but gave it up in exchange for promises, compensations, and political documents. Israel, on the contrary, has built its security for decades on the principle: first own strength, then treaties.
This does not mean that Israel does not need allies. It does. Military, technological, and diplomatic ties with the USA remain one of the main elements of Israeli security.
But the Israeli experience shows: an ally is an amplifier of strength, not its replacement.
After October 7, this thought became even harsher. Israel saw that even with US support, even with international contacts, even with negotiations and resolutions, at the moment of attack, the country is protected by the IDF, intelligence, air defense, mobilization of society, and readiness to make quick decisions.
Ukraine in the 1990s believed that giving up its nuclear arsenal would open the door to a safe world. Israel never lived in such an illusion.
That is why the topic of Ukrainian disarmament is so important for the Israeli audience. It shows that security cannot be built only on memorandums, the goodwill of partners, and the hope that the aggressor will be embarrassed to break a signature.
The aggressor is not embarrassed.
He tests not the text of the treaty but the ability of the state to respond.