The EconomistFebruary 10th 2018 Middle East and Africa 45
I
N THE desert 220km (137 miles) from Abu
Dhabi, the capital of the United Arab
Emirates (UAE), a South Korean firm is
close to finishing the Arab world’s first op-
erational nuclear-power reactor. The pro-
ject started ten years ago in Washington,
where the Emiratis negotiated a “123 agree-
ment”. Such deals, named after a clause in
America’s export-control laws, impose
tough safeguards in return for American
nuclear technology. When the UAEsigned
one in 2009, it also pledged not to enrich
uranium or reprocess spent fuel into pluto-
nium. Both can be used to make nuclear
weapons. Arms-control wonks called it
the gold standard of123 deals.
Saudi Arabia only wants bronze. The
kingdom has its own ambitious nuclear
plans: 16 reactors, at a cost of up to $80bn.
But, unlike the UAE, it wants to do its own
enrichment. Iran, its regional rival, is al-
ready a step ahead. The most controversial
provision of the nuclear deal it signed with
world powers in 2015 allows it to enrich
uranium. Iran did agree to mothball most
of the centrifuges used for enrichment, and
to process the stuff only to a level far below
what is required for a bomb. Still, it kept the
technology. The Saudis want to have it, too.
Lawmakers in Washington are wor-
ried. Granting the Saudis such a deal could
prompt other countries, such as the UAE, to
ask for similar terms. It may undermine
global efforts at non-proliferation. Indeed,
critics of the Iran deal fear that a Saudi en-
richment programme would compromise
their effort to impose tighter restrictions on
Iran. But Donald Trump, America’s presi-
dent, is less concerned. He has close ties
with the Saudis. He has also pledged to re-
vitalise America’s ailing nuclear industry.
Among the five firms bidding for the Saudi
project is Westinghouse, an American
company that filed for bankruptcy last
year. It would not be able to join the project
without a 123 agreement.
Even some critics of the proposed deal
concede that it may be the least bad option,
because it would give America influence
over the Saudi programme. The kingdom
has other suitors. One is Rosatom, Russia’s
state-owned nuclear-power company,
which is pursuing a frenetic sort of nuclear
diplomacy in the Middle East. In Decem-
ber it signed a $21.3bn contract to build
Egypt’s first power reactor. Jordan inked a
$10bn deal with the Russians in 2015. De-
spite their differences, particularly over
Syria, the Saudis are keen to have closer
ties with the region’s resurgent power.
King Salman spent four days in Moscow in
October, the first such visit by a Saudi ruler.
Yet nuclear energy does not make much
economic sense for the kingdom. Saudi
Arabia burns 465,000 barrels of oil per day
for electricity, forgoing $11bn in annual rev-
enue. But the last nuclear reactorswill not
go online until the 2030s. They will gener-
ate less than one-sixth of the 120 gigawatts
needed during periods of peak demand. In
a country with vast deserts, it would make
more sense to use gas and invest in solar
energy. Today the kingdom generates al-
most none: its largest solar farm, at the
headquarters of the state oil company,
powers an office building.
The government is building a solar-
panel factory near Riyadh, the capital. On
February 6th ACWAPower, a Saudi firm,
announced that it had won the contract for
a new 300-megawatt solar farm in the
northern desert. ACWApromises to pro-
duce electricity for 2.3 cents per kilowatt-
hour, a record-low tariff. Though costs for
nuclear power vary with reactor design,
even the most efficient ones are more ex-
pensive. And whereas nuclear is a mature
technology, costs for solar fall each year.
For the Saudis, though, a nuclear pro-
gramme is a way to keep pace with Iran. It
is also a step towards nuclear proliferation
in the world’s most volatile region. 7
Nuclear power in the Middle East
An unenriching
debate
CAIRO
How a Saudi nuclear reactor could
accelerate an arms race
“M
ORE than any other technical de-
sign or social institution,” wrote
the late British historian, Tony Judt, “the
railway stands for modernity.” But the road
to modernity can be a bumpy one. So it
was at the opening of the world’s first
steam passenger railway in 1830, when a
dignitary in Liverpool was crushed by a
train. So too in Saudi Arabia today, where
construction of a high-speed railway was
almost derailed by advancing sand dunes.
And also in Ethiopia, where Africa’s new-
est major railroad has been frustrated by
one of civilisation’s earliest forms of tran-
sport, the camel.
Since the start of commercial opera-
tionslast month, at least 50 animals have
been killed crossing the new Chinese-built
line connecting Addis Ababa, the capital of
landlocked Ethiopia, with the port of
neighbouringDjibouti. Of these, 15 were
camels flattened in a single collision, ac-
cording to Tilahun Farka, the head of the
jointly state-owned Ethio-Djibouti Rail-
ways, which manages the locomotives.
Camel herders in the arid scrubland
east of Addis Ababa report many more
such incidents over the previous year of
trial operations. Nado, a 21-year-old nomad
on the outskirts of Adama, says his family
lost 35 camels in an especially bloody colli-
sion. “Some of my brothers lost all the
camels they have,” he complains. And it is
not just camels. Donkeys, cows, sheep and
goats have also been hit, though it is the un-
gainly camels thatare most atrisk. “The
train neverstops,” says Nado. “It just hits
and passes on.”
For the Ethiopian government this is a
headache. The train, which is supposed to
slash transportation times to the coast
from two days to ten hours, is operating at
around half speed. Mr Tilahun says his
company pays out 30,000 Ethiopian birr
($1,089) for each camel, twice the market
price. So a profit-maximising camel-owner
would chivvy the whole herd onto the
tracks. This is perhaps why there have
been so many collisions.
The problem is also technical. It was
deemed too expensive to build an elevated
track, such as the one that runs through
Tsavo National Park in neighbouring Ken-
ya, allowing wildlife to cross freely. Ethio-
pia opted instead for level crossings and
some tunnels. But herders complain that
there are too few of these, or that their cam-
els refuse to use them. Some say they do
not know where to go for compensation,
and often do not get paid what is owed.
In most parts of the world fencing is
used to prevent dangerous crossings. But
for eastern Ethiopia’s large nomadic popu-
lation, mobility matters. Fences built along
some sections of track have been torn
down by nomads who regard distant offi-
cials with suspicion. Mr Tilahun hopes all
Ethiopianswill eventually view the rail-
way as a “national resource”. Nomads may
be the last to feel this way. 7
Ethiopia
Danger, camels
crossing
ADAMA
Camel trains are holding up Ethiopia’s
new railway line