Moscow’s Reactors, Tehran’s Dependency: Nuclear Theater on the Eve of UN Snapback
Mohammad Eslami, Head of the Islamic regime’s Atomic Energy Organization (AEOI). Photo by Joe Klamar / AFP
On September 22, 2025, Iran’s Vice President and head of the Atomic Energy Organization, Mohammad Eslami, landed in Moscow to announce what he cast as a historic leap forward: an agreement with Russia for the construction of eight new nuclear power plants, including four in Bushehr. According to Eslami, negotiations are complete, sites have been chosen and equipped, and with the agreement to be signed this week, the project will enter the “operational phase” of design and engineering.
Iran today has only one operating nuclear power plant—Bushehr-1, built by Russia and connected to the grid more than a decade ago. With a net output of about 915 megawatts, it contributes just a fraction of the country’s electricity needs. By contrast, Tehran’s ambition—20 gigawatts of nuclear capacity by 2040—would require dozens of large reactors and vast sums of financing. That is precisely what makes this announcement both symbolic and deeply troubling: it is less about solving Iran’s chronic electricity shortages, and more about binding the Islamic Republic more tightly to Russia at a moment of maximum geopolitical pressure.
Eslami’s fanfare in Moscow comes in the shadow of looming sanctions. On September 19, the UN Security Council rejected a Russian- and Chinese-backed draft resolution that would have permanently lifted sanctions on Tehran. The UK, France, and Germany blocked it, arguing instead for the reimposition of sanctions unless Iran reverses course. Their proposal offers a six-month delay in snapback measures—if and only if Iran restores IAEA inspector access, addresses enriched uranium stockpiles, and reopens channels for negotiation with Washington. The deadline is stark: September 27. If no agreement is reached, all UN sanctions will automatically return.
That Tehran chose this moment to trumpet an “irreversible” nuclear expansion with Russia is no accident. It is a calculated signal of defiance—one designed to tell the West that no sanctions clock, however urgent, will dictate Iran’s nuclear trajectory. But it also underscores Tehran’s increasing reliance on Moscow as its diplomatic shield and technological supplier.
Iran’s grid is in crisis. Summers now bring rolling blackouts, emergency office closures, and severe disruptions across industries. The government itself admits the country is heading into a combined water and power crisis. Yet instead of investing in quick fixes—upgrading its dilapidated thermal fleet, reducing transmission losses, or improving efficiency—Tehran is opting for prestige projects with delivery timelines measured in decades.
Bushehr-1 generated about 6.4 terawatt-hours in 2024. By comparison, Iran’s annual demand is hundreds of terawatt-hours. Even with one additional reactor under construction, nuclear power will remain a footnote in Iran’s energy mix for years to come. What Eslami heralded in Moscow, therefore, is not an energy solution. It is political theater, designed to create the illusion of progress while blackouts continue to darken Iranian homes.
There is a strategic calculus here. By signing long-term contracts with Russia’s Rosatom, Tehran creates an anchor that Moscow can point to as justification for shielding Iran diplomatically. The Kremlin secures lucrative contracts; the regime in Tehran secures headlines about “nuclear sovereignty.” But the price is steep. Every new unit ties Iran’s nuclear infrastructure more tightly to Russian technology, Russian fuel services, Russian financing. It is dependency disguised as empowerment.
The timing also raises hard questions. If sanctions do snap back, what financing mechanisms will actually sustain this deal? In what currency will Iran pay, and against what revenue stream? None of these details have been disclosed. What is clear is that ordinary Iranians will foot the bill—whether through diverted state funds, higher electricity costs, or further economic isolation.
Eslami spoke in Moscow of peaceful energy, design blueprints, and “operational steps.” He did not speak about the IAEA inspectors Tehran continues to block. He did not explain why the regime refuses a straightforward compromise that would grant access, pause sanctions, and open the door to six months of negotiation. And he did not admit the simple truth that eight paper reactors will not keep Iran’s lights on this winter.
The announcement is a shield against international pressure, not a solution to domestic crisis. It is meant to buy legitimacy abroad and political cover at home. But for a nation already battered by decades of economic mismanagement, sanctions, and corruption, the result will be the same: more dependency, more opacity, and more ordinary Iranians paying the price—in darkness.
This is not an energy plan. It is a geopolitical gambit staged in Moscow, designed to signal defiance on the eve of a critical UN deadline. By choosing prestige reactors over pragmatic solutions, Tehran has once again proven that the regime prioritizes survival and spectacle over the well-being of its citizens. With UN snapback sanctions poised to return, the “eight-reactor” deal is less about powering Iran’s future than about mortgaging it to Russia.