Although Chomsky’s Perilous Power was written in 2007, nothing has changed with U.S. Israel relationship toward Iran. Iran broke ranks with the United States in 1979, and this is a crime for which it has [still] to be punished. And it goes way beyond rational state interests. As with Cuba, it's the Mafia mentality: You can’t allow disobedience to exist; it's too dangerous because other people might get the idea that they can be disobedient as well. So Iran's going to have to be punished for that act of disobedience.
Now the United States [allying with Israel] is try very hard to isolate Iran and to carry out subversion, which is maybe possible in that country. It's a complex, ethically mixed society with a very repressive government. Maybe the United States can stimulate some kind of internal uprising. And of course they want to isolate it economically.
James Risen in State Of War: The Secret History Of The CIA And The Bush Administration (2006) disproves Netanyahu’s rant. Risen state that in 2004 and 2005, President Bush and his [Neocons] aides were making the case that Iran was moving rapidly to develop nuclear weapons, the American intelligence community found itself unable to provide the evidence to back up the administration’s public arguments. On the heels of the CIA’s failure to provide accurate prewar intelligence on Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction, the agency was one again clueless in the Middle East. In the spring of 2005, in the wake of the CIA’s Iranian disaster, Porter Goss, the CIA’s new director, told President Bush in a White House briefing that the CIA really didn’t know how close Iran was to becoming a nuclear power.
The Bush administration has never publicly disclosed the extent to which it is now operating in the blind on Iran. But deep in the bowels of the CIA, someone must be nervously, but very privately, wondering: Whatever happened to those nuclear blueprints we gave to the Iranians?
The story dates back to the Clinton administration and February 2000, when one frightened Russian scientist walked Vienna’s winter streets. Enveloped by the February cold, he dodged the bright red and white Strassenbahn, the quaint electric tramcars that roll in slow circuits around the city, while he debated whether to go through with his secret mission.
I’m not a spy, he thought to himself. I’m a scientist. What am I doing here? They could have at least given me good directions.
As he stumbled along into Vienna’s north end, in the unglamorous neighborhood surrounding the Praterstern U-Bahn station, the same question pounded in his brain again and again, but he couldn’t find an answer.
What was the CIA thinking?
The Russian had good reason to be afraid. He was walking around Vienna with blueprints for a nuclear.
He still couldn’t believe the orders he had received from CIA headquarters. The CIA had given him the nuclear blueprints and then sent him to Vienna to sell them—or simple give them—to the Iranian representatives to the IAEA. With the Russian doing Langley’s bidding, the CIA appeared to be about to help Iran leapfrog one of the last remaining engineering hurdles blocking its path to a nuclear weapon. The dangerous irony was not lost on the Russian—the IAEA was an international organization created to restrict the spread of nuclear technology. The IAEA’s Vienna headquarters, inside the United Nation’s sprawling concrete compound, a jumble of geometric-shaped assembled like a Christmas pile of children’s toys along the Danube River just outside the city center, was the lading forum for international debate over the proliferation of nuclear weapons technology. It was the place where the United States came to level charges against rogue nations such as Iran and North Korea over their clandestine nuclear programs. IAEA experts traveled the world to try to police the use of nuclear power, to make certain that peaceful energy-generation programs weren’t providing cover for the clandestine development of nuclear weapons. In 2005, the IAEA and its chief, Mohamed El Baradei, would win the Nobel peace Prize for their counter proliferation efforts.
But in 2000, the CIA was coming to Vienna to stage an operation that could help one of the most dangerous regimes in the world obtain a nuclear weapon.
He was a nuclear engineer who had defected to the United States years earlier and quietly settled in America. He went through the CIA’s defector resettlement program and endure long debriefings in which CIA experts and scientists from the national laboratories tried to drain him of everything he knew about the of Russia’s nuclear weapons program. Like many other Russian defectors before him, his tiresome complaints about money and status had gained him a reputation within the CIA of being difficult to manage. But he was too valuable for the CIA to toss away.
Despite their disputes, the CIA had arranged for the Russians to become an American citizen and had kept him on the payroll, to the tune of $5,000 a month. It really did seem like easy money, with few strings attached. Life was good. He was happy to be on the CIA gravy train.
Until now. The CIA was placing him on the front line of a plan that seemed to be completely at odds with the interests of the United States, and it had taken a lot of persuading by his CIA case officer to convince him to go through with what appeared to be a rogue operation.
The case officer worked hard to convince him—even though the officer had doubts about the plan as well. As he was sweet-talking the Russian into flying to Vienna, the case officer wondered whether he was being set up by CIA management, in some dark political or bureaucratic game that he didn’t understand. Was he involved in an illegal covert action? Should he expect to be hauled before a congressional committee and grilled because he was the officer who helped give nuclear blueprints to Iran? The code name for this operation was MERLIN; to the officer, that seemed like a wry tip-off that nothing about this program was what it appeared to be. He did his best to hide his concerns from his Russian agent.
The Russian’s assignment from the CIA was to pose as an unemployed and greedy scientist who was willing to sell his soul—and the secrets of the atomic bomb—to the highest bidder. By hook or by crook, the CIA told him, he was to get the nuclear blueprints to the Iranians. They would quickly recognize their value and rush them back to their superiors in Tehran.
The Russian reluctantly agreed, but he was still clearly suspicious of the CIA’s motives.
The end of the Cold War meant the end of regular paychecks for Russian nuclear scientist, and there was a real danger that Russian technical expertise would spread like a virus to the totalitarian states of the third world. Fortunately, at just the right moment, two centrist American senators, one Democrat and one Republican, saw the danger and came up with one of the most farsighted U.S. foreign relations programs since the Marshall Plan. In 1991, Sam Nunn and Richard Lugar crafted legislation that helped prevent a massive drain of nuclear technology out of the former Soviet Union. Known as the Nunn-Lugar Cooperative Threat Reduction Program, the legislation created joint U.S.-Russian programs to deactivate thousands of nuclear warheads in the former Soviet Union, and helped rid the Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Belarus of the nuclear weapons they had inherited at the time of the breakup of the Soviet Union.
Equally important was Nunn-Lugar’s impact on the lives of Russian scientists.