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The Triangle of Extraction in the Kola Peninsula

By | Article
October 1, 2024
A colorful rocky landscape with a body of water in the distance

A rocky landscape in Teriberka, Oblast Murmansk in Russia. Photo: Evgeny Matveev

The Arctic Institute Arctic Extractivism Series 2024


As of September 2024, it has been two years and seven months since Russia escalated its aggression in Ukraine into a full-scale invasion. In Finland, much of the attention has naturally been focused on the situation in Ukraine and the potential threat Russia poses to Finland now and in the future. Despite this focus being understandable and necessary, the lived reality outside Moscow, the center of power in Russia, remains often overlooked. The war’s impact within Russia can be observed, for example, in the disproportionately high casualties among Indigenous peoples and non-Slavic minorities,1) increased harassment of Indigenous activists,2) and the loosening of environmental regulations on extractive projects in the Arctic as a part of efforts to revive the economy.3) While all these issues are significant and deserve a closer look, this article will focus on the latter.

There is no need to look far away from Finland’s borders, as the Russian mining industry has been a dominant feature of the socio-spatial realities in the Kola Peninsula, the easternmost part of the indigenous Saami land (Saam’ jiemm’n’e in Kildin Saami language), since the 1930s. In addition to being traditional Indigenous land, the region is crucial for resource extraction, accounting for 100 percent of Russia’s production of apatite, nepheline, loparite, and baddeleyite concentrate while also contributing significantly to the production of nickel (up to 45 percent), copper (13 percent), and rare earth metals.4) Given this extensive history of industrial activity and influence, the region has faced severe socio-ecological impacts, particularly for the Kola Saami. The unsustainable exploitation of natural resources on Indigenous lands is, unfortunately, a pattern repeated throughout the recent history of the Kola Peninsula. Rather than curbing this industrial expansion, Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has further accelerated mining activities in the region.

This article aims to shed light on what is happening within ‘closed’ Russia in the “vicinity” of Finland. Even though voices from across the border may seem faint, especially due to the political climate in Russia, they are not absent. Currently, three transition mineral extraction projects are being developed in the Lovozero region of the Kola Peninsula, with two gaining significant traction only after February 2022. These projects are situated in close proximity, forming what I call a “triangle of extraction,” as they create a triangular region that will be significantly affected by various types of mineral and metal mining. Much like the Nordic parts of Saami land, the Saami people in Russia have raised concerns and skepticism about the promises made by extractive companies. In the narratives of all three projects, their connection to the ‘green’ transition and more sustainable use of the environment shines brightly, but only one emphasizes dialogue with the Saami and local reindeer herders.

Power dynamics and environmental justice

Many discussions on new trends in extractive industries adopt a critical tone towards the energy transition, and with good reason. Over the past decade, the ‘green’ economy has emerged as a central policy framework for sustainable development, promising a resource-efficient, low-carbon, and supposedly ‘less environmentally harmful’ future.5) However, the shift is deeply intertwined with global and local power dynamics, as the material demands of the ‘green’ energy transition create a strong sellers’ market, intensifying resource competition and potentially leading to geopolitical tensions. As extraction increases in speed and volume to meet these demands,6) resource-rich Indigenous lands face significant threats. The living environment and traditional ways of life risk being disturbed by metal mining, wind farms, transport infrastructure, and hydropower projects.

Examples of these issues are present throughout the Saami homeland, though the Kola Peninsula often receives less attention. This easternmost part of Saami territory is a complex and bureaucratic landscape where multiple perspectives and lived realities intersect. It is an area I can only scratch the surface of what I can access and comprehend from afar, as fieldwork in Russia is currently impossible. The history of industrial development in the region has been deeply damaging to the socio-cultural survival of the Kola Saami, and under Putin’s regime, the situation shows no signs of improvement. According to Rauna Kuokkanen,7) Indigenous peoples’ participation in natural resource management in Russia is often sporadic and unstructured, largely due to a lack of enforcement of laws designed to protect their rights. Additionally, high political pressure, particularly around resource sovereignty, leads to local movements being co-opted by political and industrial interests.

The drive to dominate nature, rooted in non-Indigenous communities, is closely tied to power dynamics. Extractive companies frequently shape public perceptions about land use and downplay its socio-ecological impacts. These environmental governance strategies often deepen the divide between companies and local communities. If energy transition extraction projects are promoted on Indigenous peoples’ lands without real and meaningful consultation and full participation of affected groups, they perpetuate patterns of (green) colonial continuity. Monitoring the narratives behind these companies’ actions, especially regarding their engagement–or lack thereof–with Indigenous peoples, is therefore crucial in the energy transition context.

The strategic shift: Lithium mining in Russia

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has brought lithium mining, a key element of the energy transition, to the forefront in the Kola Peninsula. Before February 2022, lithium was not mined in Russia. However, following the war, Chile and Argentina halted lithium carbonate exports to Russia, prompting the development of domestic reserves, the largest of which is in the Kola Peninsula. Lithium is essential for energy transition – powering rechargeable batteries for electric vehicles and renewable energy storage – and for military technologies, such as batteries used in drones and communication devices. With demand for these technologies rising, the need for lithium is expected to grow substantially in the coming years. Thus, countries with significant reserves of critical minerals such as lithium, cobalt, and rare earths may become more strategically important. Russia is an example of such a country because of its substantial critical mineral reserves, suggesting that its geopolitical power will not diminish.

Beyond geopolitical and local power concerns, the environmental impact of mining, especially lithium extraction, is troubling. Ghorbani et al. (2024) warn that lithium poses a direct threat to organisms, including humans, as it accumulates in the environment through the food chain.8) Its long-term effects, though not always immediately apparent at low concentrations, can be damaging. Increases in environmental lithium levels, often tied to mining activities, are directly linked to pollution incidents. All three mining projects discussed below are located within the Saami reindeer herding area (whether actively used or not) and in Saami lands in general, although the Russian Federation does not provide a specific legal framework acknowledging these lands as Saami territories. The expansion of extractive land use and the associated infrastructure threatens Indigenous land rights and disrupts traditional land use. Environmental degradation, noise pollution, associated infrastructure, and restricted access to critical areas contribute to escalating socio-ecological conflicts.

Comparative impacts: Mining projects on the Kola Peninsula

In the following paragraphs, I will provide a brief overview of the corporate social responsibility (CSR) aspects of the mining projects within the extraction triangle. CSR refers to the practices and policies undertaken by a company to manage its impact on society, the environment, and the economy responsibly and ethically.9) My insights into Kola Saami’s concerns regarding the socio-cultural and socio-ecological impacts of those projects are informed by my review of discussions, posts, comments and documents in digital spaces, which I will analyze further in my doctoral dissertation.

Fedorovo Tundra

Fedorovo Tundra, Europe’s largest deposit of platinum group metals, is strategically positioned to enhance Russia’s global mineral market dominance and Arctic development.10) The project, which features key transition minerals like nickel, copper, rhodium, palladium, and platinum, is crucial for ‘green’ technologies. The project’s website highlights environmental impact assessment and the engagement of local residents but fails to address Kola Saami or the Indigenous nature of the land.

Located in the heart of the Kola Peninsula, within a reindeer winter grazing area and near sacred Saami sites and the village of Lujavv’r, the deposit was first explored in the 1980s, uncovering substantial palladium and platinum reserves.11) The project gained momentum in the late 2000s through a collaboration between Canadian Barrick Gold and Russian Pana JSC under Fedorovo Resources ZAO. Although initial consultations gathered feedback from local communities, including concerns about the impact on reindeer herding and the environment,12) the AKRA assessment, as pointed out by Yulian Konstantinov (2023), failed to address key issues like winter grazing areas and sacred sites. Despite the region’s cultural significance to the Saami, a 2021 preliminary assessment by Fedorovo Resources recommended further evaluation but downplayed the potential effects on reindeer herding and sacred sites.

In May 2020, Barrick Gold exited the project, transferring the concession to a consortium linked to the state-owned Rostec (State Corporation for the Promotion of the Development, Manufacture, and Export of High-Tech Products) and Putin-aligned oligarchs. The project is deemed crucial for regional and global strategic interests, yet public updates have been scarce since 2021. The projected timeline indicates infrastructure development from 2023 to 2026, with mining starting in 2027. Concerns persist over the infrastructure being developed around the project, particularly regarding its potential damage to ecosystems like rivers, which would impact fisheries, as well as disrupt reindeer migration routes. These issues are amplified by the lack of meaningful dialogue with affected communities.

Kolmozerskoye deposit

Unlike the previous project, the Kolmozerskoye lithium deposit has been tied from the outset to narratives of sustainability and reciprocal dialogue with the Kola Saami. Positioned approximately 100 kilometers northeast of Fedorovo Tundra, near lakes Kolmiavr and Kalmozero, and adjacent to the Murmansk State Tundra Preserve, this deposit is similarly located in a reindeer-herding pasture within the subarctic region, a culturally significant area for the Kola Saami.

Following the halt in lithium carbonate supplies from Chile and Argentina to Russia in April 2022, Nornickel, a Russian mineral giant, initiated the first dialogues in June 2022 with the Saami and other reindeer herders in the area regarding the development of the Kolmozerskoye deposit. By February 2023, a joint venture between state-owned nuclear energy company Rosatom and Nornickel secured the exclusive right to develop the deposit from 2023 to 2043. Kolmozerskoye is recognized as Russia’s largest lithium deposit, containing 18.9 percent of the nation’s reserves (75 million tons). The project is set to produce 45,000 tons of lithium carbonate and hydroxide annually, aiming to fulfill Russia’s domestic lithium requirements by 2030.

The project has advanced quickly in just a year and a half, with exploration drilling already completed.13) Production is expected to begin in pilot mode, producing 10 percent of the total planned capacity between 2026 and 2027. Like the Fedorova Tundra project, Kolmozerskoye’s official website emphasizes its commitment to Indigenous rights (Free, Prior, and Informed Consent) and corporate social responsibility. According to the project’s Russian website, there have been 11 dialogues with Saami and other reindeer herders to date.14) However, the authenticity of these consultations and the true motives behind Nornickel’s (or Polar Lithium’s) social responsibility efforts are subjects of critical debate, raising questions about their genuine intentions and impact.

Polmostundrovskoye

Arctic Lithium, a joint venture between TD Halmek and the Chemical and Metallurgical Plant (CMP), has been quietly advancing its project in the Polmos Tundra since securing development rights in 2023. This deposit, located in the northwestern Lovozero region and discovered in 1952, holds 350,000 tons of lithium oxide. It is situated on the right bank of the Saami-significant Voronya River, bordered by Bezymjannaja Mountain, with its reach extending toward the slopes of Mount Polmos.

As stated on its website, Arctic Lithium’s mission is to produce high-quality lithium products while respecting the environment and promoting sustainable development. However, the site lacks specific mention of the Saami and other reindeer herders or an environmental impact assessment. Additionally, updates on the project have stopped since December 2023 (although all the news has been added to the website on the same day, 17 September 2024)15) RBC (2024) reports that Arctic Lithium is expected to commence production from the lithium deposit between 2025 and 2026.16)

Some Kola Saami have voiced concerns about the environmental effects and the threat to reindeer herding posed by this mining project, which risks further encroaching on their ancestral lands. The Voronya River, adjacent to the deposit, is an important fishing resource for the Saami, known for its diverse fish population.17) Nevertheless, Arctic Lithium does not seem, at least when viewed from a distance, to be working on a meaningful dialogue with the Kola Saami.

Conclusion: Environmental Narratives and Indigenous Exclusion

A closer look at the three projects described above, even superficially, reveals that their combined effects will exert significant pressure on the Kola environment and challenge the region’s socio-cultural fabric. The global narratives surrounding the green transition—mitigating environmental impact and promoting sustainability—are also embraced in Russia. However, a sustainable future must be built equitably, respecting Indigenous peoples’ land rights and the environment’s ecological carrying capacity. This is where the Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) mechanism, previously mentioned, becomes central to corporate social responsibility. FPIC grants Indigenous communities the right to accept or reject projects affecting their lands, resources, or livelihoods, after receiving all relevant information and without coercion, before any development begins.18) Despite its importance (and its significance, especially in the international context of the ‘green’ transition), this mechanism is acknowledged in the narrative of only one of the three projects.

FPIC is rooted in international human rights standards, yet these are often disregarded during the lifecycle of extractive projects (in Russia). While Article 69 of the Russian Constitution guarantees Indigenous rights in line with international law, Russia has not ratified key treaties like the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) and ILO Convention 169.19) As a result, Indigenous communities in Russia lack substantial international protections, a reality that has worsened after Russia’s war of aggression in Ukraine. Furthermore, the Russian government shows little political will to address Indigenous rights when weighted against the extraction of strategic minerals and metals–enforcing an unequal power dynamic between Indigenous peoples and mining companies. Legally, this imbalance favors industries, undermining any sense of equity in the relationship.20)

In the case of transition mineral projects advancing in the Kola region, dominant narratives emphasize global green transition goals while often neglecting the cultural significance of the land. The Kolmozerskoye deposit is particularly noteworthy. Nornickel, frequently criticized for violating Indigenous rights—especially in the Taymyr Peninsula—continues to face backlash for its Kola region operations, despite promoting narratives of reciprocity and adherence to FPIC principles. This raises key questions about the true intent behind these mechanisms to honor reciprocity and Indigenous rights, and whether they are genuinely implemented. Supposing the ‘green’ transition genuinely aims for a more sustainable and equitable future, as claimed by project websites, it is vital to monitor the implementation of FPIC principles and ensure a comprehensive understanding of the entire production chain—its social biography21) from development to completion—to ensure the transition is truly just. Despite narratives framing mining projects in a superficially positive light, the opposite is seen in cases such as that of Polar Lithium.

Mirkka Ollila is a doctoral researcher at the Aleksanteri Institute, University of Helsinki.

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