Metsamor and the Politics of Environmental Pressure

BY RAFFY ARDHALDJIAN

Armenia’s energy future is not just about power plants—it’s about national security, independence, and survival in a region where pressure comes in many forms. Today, even environmental language can be used as a political weapon. That’s what makes the latest headlines from Turkey worth watching.

On May 31, the Turkish daily Cumhuriyet published a headline that demands closer attention: “Çevre Örgütlerinden Ermenistan’a Çağrı: Metzamor Nükleer Santralini Kapatın”
(“Environmental Groups Call on Armenia: Shut Down the Metsamor Nuclear Power Plant”) (Cumhuriyet, May 31, 2025).

Several Turkish environmental organizations are quoted calling for the immediate closure of Armenia’s Metsamor Nuclear Power Plant, citing seismic risks and outdated infrastructure.

While I am not a regional energy expert, even modest attention to recent patterns reveals how environmental language—when echoed by actors with geopolitical agendas—can signal more than ecological concern. The 2023 Lachin “eco-blockade” was a clear example. What presented itself as grassroots environmentalism became a tool of strategic coercion.

Armenians must now ask: Is this latest campaign about safety—or strategy?

Lachin Was a Precedent, Not an Exception
In late 2022 and throughout 2023, Azerbaijani “eco-activists” blocked the Lachin Corridor, cutting off Nagorno-Karabakh under the pretense of protesting mining activity. What looked like spontaneous civil society action was later revealed as a state-backed hybrid operation.

Now, Turkish environmental voices are calling for Armenia to shut down Metsamor, its main source of domestic electricity. The plant supplies over 30 percent of the country’s power. These calls seem less about safety—and more about leverage.

In their press release, Turkish groups claimed Metsamor has caused rising cancer and leukemia rates in Iğdır. No international health body has verified this. The claim appears designed to raise alarm, apply pressure, and portray Armenia as a regional hazard. The protest banner in Iğdır, displaying dozens of environmental logos, reinforced the impression of coordination and legitimacy.

This isn’t just environmental advocacy—it follows a familiar pattern. Rhetoric about ecosystems is being used to shape geopolitical narratives and shift influence. Turkey has long opposed Metsamor’s operation, sometimes through diplomacy, other times with radiation drills near the border. As recently as 2023, it demanded the plant’s closure. These cycles reflect long-standing policy goals, not spontaneous activism.

Iğdır is just 30 kilometers from Metsamor—but politically, it feels much farther, with little dialogue or verification crossing the border.

Nuclear Policy Must Look Beyond Election Cycles
Metsamor is a Soviet-era facility maintained with Russian support. In December 2024, Armenia and Russia agreed to extend its operation until 2036, with $65 million allocated by the Armenian government. The upgrade is being led by Rusatom Service, a Russian state contractor. Meanwhile, Armenia is also exploring alternatives with Western partners, including U.S.- and EU-backed small modular reactors (SMRs).

Nuclear decisions are generational. These facilities run on 40–60 year cycles and outlast political terms. Planning must prioritize sovereignty, risk diversification, and long-term alignment—not short-term budgets or partisan agendas.

Metsamor remains under active IAEA oversight. While a 2011 National Geographic article called it “the most dangerous nuclear plant in the world” due to seismic risks, Armenia has since made significant safety upgrades.

Armenia’s Current Energy Mix—and the Case for Diversification
Armenia’s current electricity mix relies on nuclear (30–35 percent), natural gas (40–45 percent), hydropower (20–25 percent), and a small but growing share of renewables. While this mix has provided baseline stability, it leaves the country exposed. Most of Armenia’s gas comes from Russia—over 85 percent—with a smaller amount from Iran under a barter deal. Both sources carry geopolitical strings. Hydropower is sensitive to climate shifts, and nuclear, though reliable, is politically targeted. Transitioning to renewables will require grid modernization, battery storage, and new terms with the foreign-owned Electric Networks of Armenia. A pragmatic strategy would maintain a safe nuclear baseline, invest steadily in solar and storage, expand hydro only where sustainable, and avoid overreliance on any one supplier or technology. Diversification isn’t idealism—it’s geopolitical insurance.

What Armenia Can Do Now
The best response to outside pressure is not alarm—but action. Armenia should stay focused on keeping Metsamor safe while planning for its eventual replacement, expanding scalable solar and battery projects, and using both its pension funds and diaspora capital to invest in long-term energy security. These moves not only protect sovereignty—they lay the groundwork for Armenia’s digital and economic future.

Powering Armenia’s Digital Future
Energy security is the backbone of economic innovation. AI infrastructure—data centers, compute clusters, research platforms—depends on stable, low-cost electricity. Unlike its neighbors, Armenia has nuclear capacity.

By modernizing its nuclear assets and scaling targeted renewables, Armenia could become a regional hub for digital infrastructure—especially in AI and cloud computing. Sovereign energy and data can reinforce one another.

This transition also opens the door to financial innovation. Green bonds, infrastructure trusts, and energy-backed pension instruments could enable both local pension funds and the diaspora to invest in long-term, utility-grade infrastructure. Energy independence can be more than a security asset—it can connect Armenia to its global investors.

The Trap Must Not Be Repeated
Environmental concerns deserve honest attention. But Armenians must also stay alert to patterns in how such narratives are used to apply pressure. The 2023 Lachin blockade was not an isolated event—it was a strategic rehearsal.

Today, calls to shut down Metsamor echo that tactic. Armenia cannot afford to sleepwalk into another trap.

It has options. It has international credibility. It has the ability to craft an energy policy that reflects its geography, vulnerability, and ambition.

All four of my grandparents were orphans who survived the Armenian Genocide. They understood something that policy papers cannot capture: when you are a small nation surrounded by those who have tried to erase you, survival sometimes means making hard choices with imperfect options. They knew that independence—even incomplete, even costly—is always preferable to dependence on those who do not wish you well. That’s how I think about Metsamor. It’s not perfect. But it’s ours.

If Turkey is truly concerned about Metsamor’s safety and genuinely seeks normalization of relations, there is a path forward that transcends rhetoric. Turkey could offer matching funds for a new, modern nuclear reactor project in Armenia – just as it is already financing multiple nuclear projects within its own borders.. This need not come framed as reparations for the sequestered wealth of millions of Ottoman Armenians—though that history cannot be erased. Instead, it could stand as a quiet gesture toward genuine partnership. Real neighbors invest in each other’s security, not just demand shutdowns. Such an offer would distinguish authentic concern from strategic pressure. It would signal that Turkey sees Armenia’s energy independence as compatible with regional stability, rather than as a threat to be eliminated.

The future of Armenia’s energy, economy, and strategic posture must be shaped by long-term choices made in Armenia’s national interest—regardless of who is in power—not scripted in Ankara, Moscow, or the West.

Raffy Ardhaldjian is a Fletcher School graduate and advisor to boards, public institutions, and NGOs. He focuses on pan-Armenian strategic questions spanning Armenia and its global diaspora.