Dear friends, fellow environmentalists, climate justice activists, and members of Fridays for Future,

My name is Olga Karach, I am a head of Belarusian organization “Our House” in exiled in Lithuania.

We have gathered here today because our house—our shared house—faces intertwined threats. The climate crisis and the threat of war are entangled, like the roots of a single tree. It is impossible to separate the fight for a clean environment from the fight for peace. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Belarusian-Baltic region. From the quiet flow of the Neris River to the salty waves of the Baltic Sea, nature is calling on us to protect it from destruction—and to protect people from the dangers of war. Over the session, I invite you to face these challenges together. This will be a dramatic story of real problems, supported by scientific analysis, but above all, it will be a call to action.

We are not here merely to discuss disasters—we are here to talk about solutions. About how each of us can become a hero for our land, for our rivers, for our sea. How we can gift peace and a livable climate to future generations.

Let us begin with the heart of our land—its rivers and forests, the gifts of nature that sustain life.

The Neris River: A Living Artery, Not a Military Canal

Imagine a river that has flowed freely for thousands of years, carving its banks, nourishing forests and meadows along its course. This river—the Neris (Viliya)—is one of the largest and still relatively untamed rivers in this part of Europe. Its level and flow change with the seasons, swelling in spring, thinning in summer. Its banks are lined with floodplain forests, and its winding meanders create unique habitats for birds and fish. Scientists describe the Neris as unique—one of the few large, natural rivers still preserved in Europe.

But today, the Neris faces a dire threat. There are plans of Lithuanian Ministry of Defense to alter its course, to undertake massive dredging and deepening works, to remove stones, straighten its meanders—all in order to make it navigable for cargo ships and even military transport for people’s evacuation. You heard that correctly: this river is being considered as a route for the evacuation of Lithuanians to… Russia during possible Russian attacks of Lithuania. Very weird idea! Is nature once again being sacrificed for the ambitions of militarization?

Scientists at Vilnius University are sounding the alarm. They warn that the proposed interventions could cause irreparable harm to the Neris, violating Lithuania’s and the EU’s environmental commitments. Why? Because any dredging and straightening of the riverbed disrupts its fragile balance. The character of the banks will change, the speed of the current will shift, floodplains will vanish, and natural meanders will cease to form—the river will lose its living soul. The unique landscape of the Neris Valley, protected under Natura 2000 as a vital migration corridor, will suffer severe damage. Instead of a wild river, we risk creating a drainage ditch.

What is particularly outrageous is that funding intended for ecological preservation is being considered for this destructive project. Reports suggest that up to €20 million from the EU’s Natura 2000 program (designed to protect nature!) might be redirected toward deepening the Neris. That means money meant for conservation could be used to transform a river into a military highway. The mayor of Vilnius has openly stated that he sees the river as an evacuation route and a transport corridor for military cargo, arguing that a waterway is difficult to block or destroy during a conflict. Imagine this: a river viewed as an instrument of war.

We are not against protecting people—but does real security come at the expense of destroying nature? In times of climate change, rivers are our salvation; they cool the air, provide moisture to fields. If we destroy them now, we weaken our resilience to droughts and heatwaves in the future.

What can we do? Instead of turning the Neris into a canal, we must preserve it in its natural state. Scientists propose excluding the Neris from transport projects and limiting navigation to small, eco-friendly tourism boats. Let’s support this call. This is not a step backward—it is a step forward toward smarter environmental management. We can develop eco-tourism, scientific research stations, and protected natural parks along the Neris that will provide jobs and knowledge without destroying the river. Let us demand that the Lithuanian government and the EU reassess these plans. No tanks and cargo barges should replace the otters and herons in our rivers!

By keeping the Neris free-flowing, we set an example of climate justice in action—where ecosystem and community interests outweigh short-term gains. And this is the first step toward peace: respecting the Earth teaches us to respect each other.

But sadly, the threat to the river is not the only shadow looming over our region. Another, even darker shadow—radiation danger—threatens us all.

Radioactive Threats: From Chernobyl to the New Nuclear Gamble

Belarusians, Lithuanians, and Ukrainians know the cost of a radiation disaster firsthand. In 1986, the explosion at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant poisoned lands and waters across thousands of kilometers. Southern Belarus still bears the scars of that tragedy: contaminated land, abandoned villages, illnesses passed down through generations. We know what it means to live with an invisible threat, when the wind itself can carry death. Climate justice for us is unthinkable without nuclear safety because environmental catastrophe and radiation risk are inseparable.

However, today a new threat is emerging: the deployment of nuclear weapons in Belarus. For the first time since the Cold War, nuclear warheads may be stationed in Belarusian territory. This is being framed as a means of protection, a “security guarantee.” But let’s call it what it is: any nuclear weapon in our region makes us a target and puts all living beings at risk. Experts warn that in the event of conflict, nuclear storage sites in Belarus would be the first targets of attack. This is not protection—this is a direct danger. The smallest miscalculation, and our land could become a nuclear wasteland.

Imagine the consequences: even the detonation of a single tactical nuclear weapon means fire, radiation that respects no borders, and radioactive fallout poisoning rivers and soil. It means people losing everything in an instant. It means decades—if not centuries—of uninhabitable land. Neither ecology nor agriculture can recover from such destruction. In the face of nuclear conflict, sustainability and climate adaptation become meaningless—there will be nothing left to sustain.

Beyond the immediate dangers, escalating the nuclear threat undermines global peace efforts. Tensions between nations rise, arms control treaties crumble. Yet cooperation is essential for climate action. We cannot effectively combat climate change when states are on the brink of military confrontation, pouring resources into an arms race instead of ecological solutions.

Crucially, the Belarusian people never asked for this nuclear shield. Independent polls indicate that nearly 80% of urban Belarusians oppose the presence of nuclear weapons in their country. This is understandable—people do not want to live on a ticking time bomb. As environmentalists, we must stand in solidarity with them: no nuclear weapons in our region. Belarus must remain a nuclear-free zone, as it was in the 1990s. Any steps toward nuclear deployment should face opposition not just from human rights activists but from environmentalists and climate defenders worldwide.

What can we do? We must loudly declare: “Our climate does not need a nuclear winter!” Demand world leaders return to arms control discussions. Support global campaigns to reduce nuclear arsenals, from the UN to movements like ICAN (the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons). Spread the simple truth: every nuclear warhead stored near us is a blow to climate security because one reckless act could unleash an environmental catastrophe on a global scale.

Let us remember that scientists warn: even a limited nuclear war could trigger the so-called “nuclear winter”—a sudden climate cooling, crop failures, and famine across the world. Are we really going to allow global freezing from nuclear ash while we fight global warming?

No. Our response must be disarmament in the name of life. A peaceful region, free from the threat of nuclear devastation, is the foundation of a sustainable future. Instead of playing with atomic bombs, let us focus on green energy, education, and healthcare—on everything that truly makes societies safer and happier.

This call is directly linked to the next urgent issue—the Ostrovets Nuclear Power Plant, a project that has been causing deep concern among Belarus’s neighbors and Belarusians themselves for years.

Ostrovets NPP: A Ticking Environmental Time Bomb?

In northwestern Belarus, just 40 kilometers from Vilnius, two massive cooling towers now dominate the landscape—the Ostrovets Nuclear Power Plant (BelNPP). At first glance, nuclear energy seems like a low-carbon solution—so what could be the problem? The issue lies in how and where this plant was built. Lithuania and international experts have repeatedly warned that the project was implemented with severe violations of safety standards.

Let’s start with its location. After the Fukushima disaster, the IAEA recommended that nuclear plants should not be built within 100 km of major cities. Yet Belarus chose a site only 40 km from the capital of a neighboring country—Vilnius. This violates one of the fundamental principles of nuclear safety. Imagine: in the event of a major accident at BelNPP, Vilnius and up to a third of Lithuania’s population would be directly affected. The Belarusian city of Ostrovets and the Grodno region would also be in the danger zone. Millions of people would find themselves in a potential exclusion zone if something goes wrong.

And unfortunately, there are many reasons for concern. Even during construction, multiple incidents occurred: in 2016, a reactor vessel was dropped from a height of four meters, there were structural collapses, and transformer explosions. Belarusian authorities and contractors (the Russian state-owned Rosatom) often covered up these incidents, replacing damaged equipment without transparent public reporting. This culture of secrecy—rather, the lack of a safety culture—raises serious concerns. To this day, not all EU stress-test recommendations have been implemented, nor have international expert safety concerns been fully addressed. The plant is already generating electricity, yet trust in its safety remains low. Neighboring countries refuse to purchase its energy, fearing that it comes at an unacceptable price—potential radioactive risk.

Beyond the risk of accidents, there are major environmental concerns. The plant uses water for cooling, affecting the nearby Neris/Viliya River, the same river that faces destruction from deepening projects. Increased water temperatures could disrupt the river’s ecosystem. Additionally, the plant produces radioactive waste: spent nuclear fuel that requires secure storage for hundreds of years. But here is the question: Does the current Belarusian regime have a real plan for nuclear waste disposal? So far, there is no clear answer. Most likely, the waste will be stored at the NPP site itself, effectively turning Ostrovets into a radioactive storage facility. Radiation hazards do not only come from potential accidents—they can also result from poorly managed routine operations.

As an environmental movement, we must stand in solidarity with Lithuania and the international community’s demands regarding BelNPP. These demands are reasonable: ensure full transparency and safety, or shut the plant down. In 2019, the Espoo Convention countries (on transboundary environmental impact assessments) ruled that Belarus violated procedures by selecting Ostrovets as a site without proper consultation. This means that from a legal standpoint, the construction was illegitimate. We can and must demand a moratorium on the expansion of the plant (additional reactors were planned) until the site is deemed fully safe and all recommendations are implemented.

We cannot play Russian roulette with a nuclear reactor near the EU’s borders. Yes, nuclear energy is a sovereign matter for any state, but when we are talking about a potential second Chernobyl, every neighboring country has the right to a say. We remember: Chernobyl’s radioactive cloud did not stop at borders—it spread wherever the wind carried it. If, heaven forbid, something happens in Ostrovets tomorrow, the radioactive cloud could reach Vilnius, Minsk, Riga, Warsaw—anywhere. This is a shared catastrophe, and so the solutions must also be shared.

What must be done?

First, we must demand international monitoring of BelNPP. Independent experts from the IAEA, the EU, and Belarusian civil society must have permanent access to the plant. Second, we must insist on implementing all necessary safety measures: additional cooling systems, equipment upgrades, and personnel training at the highest global standards. And perhaps, we should seriously consider the question of shutting the plant down if it cannot be brought up to proper safety standards. Yes, this is a politically complex issue—but let us remember: Lithuania itself shut down its own Ignalina NPP, despite economic hardships, for the sake of regional safety and as a condition for joining the EU. Today, safety must come first.

And most importantly—we must invest in renewable energy. Why was BelNPP built in the first place? The official justification was electricity and energy independence. But solar, wind, and bioenergy offer true independence—without radioactive risk. If the billions spent on BelNPP had instead been invested in solar farms on Belarus’s contaminated Polesia lands or wind farms in the Grodno hills, the result would have been cleaner, safer, and more sustainable. We must redirect resources away from nuclear and fossil fuels and into green energy. This would also ease geopolitical tensions—since conflicts over energy resources are often the root of international disputes.

The Bottom Line: We Cannot Ignore BelNPP

Ostrovets NPP must not be left without scrutiny and control. This is not just a political issue—it is a matter of morality and responsibility to people and future generations. We do not want tomorrow’s history books to recount “the nuclear accident of 20__ that devastated Belarus and Lithuania”. We can and must prevent this—by taking action now.

But beyond individual sites—rivers, power plants—there is an even broader issue, the backdrop to all these threats: the militarization of our region, the arms race, and its impact on nature.

Militarization vs. Nature: When Guns Matter More Than the Planet

It is no secret that tensions have been rising in Eastern Europe and the Baltic region in recent years. Military presence has increased on both sides of the borders—troop movements, exercises, new bases. As environmentalists, we do not usually engage in geopolitics… but geopolitics engages with us—tank tracks tear through our forests, missiles cut across our skies, and radar waves disrupt bird migrations.

Let us remember: war is always an attack on the environment. When the conflict in Ukraine erupted, we witnessed burning oil depots, explosions at chemical plants, and tons of spilled fuel polluting rivers from sunken ships. In northern Ukraine, fires raged through the Chernobyl exclusion zone due to military actions, releasing radioactive ash into the air. Thousands of hectares of forests and steppes turned to ashes under shelling. The greenhouse gas emissions from these fires and explosions were catastrophic. Experts estimate that in the first year of the war, CO₂ emissions from warfare exceeded those of many entire countries—from explosions and the movement of vast military machinery.

Thankfully, our region is not at war. But preparations for a hypothetical war are already causing damage. In Belarus, large-scale military exercises are held regularly; soldiers and heavy machinery require training grounds, which means trampling fields, disturbing wildlife, and destroying habitats. In forests, clearings are cut for military ranges and shooting zones. In Polesia, new military facilities are being built—on land that could have been nature reserves. The same is happening in the Baltic states: NATO’s expanded training bases often encroach on natural territories. The noise of aircraft and gunfire disrupts not only people but also birds, forcing them to abandon their nesting sites.

The Hidden Carbon Footprint of War

There is also a global aspect: the military is one of the biggest polluters on the planet. Research shows that the world’s armed forces account for up to 5.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions—more than many entire nations! Yet, paradoxically, these emissions are almost never counted in climate agreements. When the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement were negotiated, military emissions were given an exception—classified as “security matters.” As a result, a massive source of pollution remains hidden.

We are shutting down coal-fired power plants and switching to electric cars, while at the same time, fighter jets and tanks are burning thousands of tons of fuel, worsening the climate crisis. This is not only unfair—it is absurd. Climate justice demands transparency from the military—no national security argument should justify concealing the environmental destruction caused by armies.

The Toxic Legacy of Past Wars

Beyond current emissions, the toxic remnants of past wars continue to poison nature. The Baltic Sea is one of the most militarized bodies of water in the 20th century. After World War II, thousands of tons of munitions and chemical weapons were dumped into its depths. Mustard gas and lewisite containers have been sitting on the seafloor for over 70 years, rusting and leaking. Experts estimate that 1.8 million tons of conventional munitions and around 5,500 tons of chemical weapons are decomposing on the seafloor of the Baltic and North Seas—a horrifying amount!

This pollution is not just historical—it is actively poisoning marine life. In areas where chemical weapons were dumped, scientists have recorded elevated levels of toxic substances, mass fish die-offs, and genetic mutations. The Baltic Sea is already suffering from eutrophication (oxygen-depleted “dead zones” caused by excess fertilizers), and now it faces another crisis—sunken bombs that are, quite literally, ticking time bombs.

And what do we see today? Instead of a global effort to clean up this toxic legacy, countries are increasing their military presence in the Baltic Sea. Naval drills and underwater detonations are becoming more frequent. Every underwater explosion shakes the seafloor, potentially disturbing toxic sediments. Recently, the mysterious sabotage of the Nord Stream gas pipelines led to one of the largest single methane emissions in history—some estimates put the release at 300,000 to 500,000 tons of methane, one of the most potent greenhouse gases. This incident occurred in the Baltic Sea, in the context of rising military tensions. This is a clear example: conflict is the enemy of the climate. Blown-up pipelines = accelerated global warming.

Enough Warnings—The Verdict is Clear

For me, the conclusion is undeniable: militarization destroys both peace and the planet. Instead of stockpiling weapons, we should be planting forests and developing renewable energy. Instead of laying mines in the sea, we should be creating marine sanctuaries. Instead of building missile silos, we should be expanding national parks.

What Can We Do?

This is a difficult area for grassroots activists to influence directly—after all, generals do not take orders from environmentalists. But we can influence public opinion and governments.

1. Demand that environmental impact assessments be conducted for all military activities. No war exercise should take place without an ecological review! If military drills are planned, the public should ask: What will this do to the birds? To the water? To the forests?

2. Push for military carbon emissions to be disclosed and regulated. Armies must reveal their carbon footprints. The Paris Agreement should be amended to include mandatory military emissions reporting and reduction targets.

3. Promote the idea that the Baltic Sea should be a sea of cooperation, not confrontation. There are already regional initiatives like HELCOM, where both NATO and non-NATO countries work together on marine conservation. We must strengthen such efforts. Instead of an arms race, let’s start a race to restore the environment! Why not establish an international task force to remove at least some of the sunken chemical weapons? Yes, it would be costly and difficult—but is it any more expensive or dangerous than building new submarines?

Each of us can raise these questions to our governments and in our communities. We are the public, and public opinion shapes priorities. When politicians see that people care more about clean rivers and seas than military posturing, they will reconsider their policies. We must show that true security is not just about tanks—but about trees; not just about missiles—but about marine life.

The Baltic Sea: A Hostage to Conflict or a Platform for Cooperation?

I want to emphasize this point: the Baltic Sea is our shared, invaluable basin—a closed and fragile ecosystem. It is where the interests of many nations intertwine, and every conflict leaves an imprint on its ecology. But the opposite is also true: cooperation in protecting the sea can become a bridge to peace.

Today, the Baltic is suffering from pollution and climate change. Its waters are warming, altering marine ecosystems. Large predatory fish have all but disappeared due to overfishing. Along the seabed and coastlines, we find scattered remnants of war—bombs, toxic waste, and sunken munitions. Remember, during the Cold War, the Baltic was once called “the Sea of Peace.” There was even a proposal to designate it a nuclear-free zone. Let us revive that idea on a new level: the Baltic Sea as a model where nations set aside conflict and solve environmental problems together.

Can we directly link every war to every environmental disaster? Perhaps not always in a straightforward way. But one thing is clear: when people fight, they stop caring about water treatment plants. When missiles fly, no one sorts their recycling. War drains resources and attention—both of which are desperately needed to protect nature.

Look at national budgets: NATO members are required to spend 2% of GDP on defense. Russia is increasing its military expenditures. But how much is being allocated to environmental protection? Significantly less. Every tank built means another missing waste treatment center, every fighter jet funded means another underfunded climate project. Is this fair? As citizens, we must demand a different set of priorities.

The Baltic region could become a model for disarmament in the name of environmental protection. For example, nations could agree to a ban on military exercises in large marine areas, a prohibition on drills during fish spawning seasons, and speed restrictions on vessels in protected zones to reduce noise pollution for marine life. Perhaps this sounds like an unrealistic vision—but once, it also seemed utopian to ban chemical pollution, yet we now have the Helsinki Convention. Cooperation already exists—so why not expand it?

Because ultimately, we all share the same enemy: the climate crisis, the looming environmental collapse. And no missiles can stop it. Only by disarming and working together can we survive.

From Words to Action: A Shared Path to Solutions

Friends, what solutions and steps emerge from everything we have discussed? I want to offer you a concrete action plan—a manifesto for environmentalists and activists in Belarus, the Baltic, and beyond, because these challenges are universal. Here are five key directions for change:

1. Protecting Rivers and Ecosystems from Harm. Let us take a firm stand against projects that destroy natural arteries for short-term gains. Specifically, regarding the Neris River, we must advocate for the cancellation of the deepening project. Support scientists and NGOs working to preserve the river. If alternative transportation routes are needed, **invest in rail or electric transport—**but do not touch the river. Demand that Natura 2000 funds be used for actual environmental restoration, not for militarization. More broadly, we must stand guard over every protected area—whether it is the Białowieża Forest or the Curonian Spit—against any form of encroachment, whether military or commercial.

2. A Nuclear-Free and Radiation-Safe Region. Launch a campaign against the deployment of nuclear weapons in Belarus. Inform the public about the risks, engage with international organizations, and mobilize a global outcry. At the same time, push for increased safety at the Ostrovets Nuclear Power Plant: demand transparency, international monitoring, and accountability. Advocate for a moratorium on new nuclear power plants in the region—at least until security issues are fully resolved and responsible waste disposal is guaranteed. Instead, lobby for joint renewable energy projects. Why doesn’t the EU offer Belarus funding for wind farms instead of expanding dangerous nuclear energy? This could also reduce regional tensions—because solar energy does not explode.

3. Disarmament and Decarbonization in the Name of Climate. We must demand that military emissions be included in national climate plans. Every country should report every liter of jet fuel burned by its military aircraft. Advocate for reductions in defense budgets and redirection of funds toward climate adaptation and a green economy. Fewer tanks—more electric buses. Fewer missiles—more wind farms. This should be the slogan not only of pacifists but of climate activists as well. Our survival depends on it. Organize actions, educational campaigns, and public awareness efforts—exposing the direct link between militarization and climate collapse will create public and political pressure for change.

4. A Clean Baltic is a Common Responsibility. We must initiate a regional dialogue on a joint Baltic Sea cleanup program. This program must include: the safe removal or neutralization of sunken chemical weapons and munitions; reducing wastewater and agricultural runoff to combat eutrophication; and establishing transboundary marine reserves where military activity is prohibited and industrial fishing is restricted, allowing ecosystems to recover. Push governments to prioritize the environment above political disputes. Remind them of Jacques Cousteau’s words: “We are all in the same boat.” If the Baltic Sea dies, there will be no winners—only nations that lose.

5. Solidarity and Education. We must unite environmental and peace movements. Fortunately, today’s youth are active in both areas—think of how climate marches often include anti-war slogans, and vice versa. We must strengthen this connection. Organize joint forums on “Climate and Peace”, share knowledge, and use the power of education. In schools and universities, we must teach how military conflicts damage ecosystems and how sustainable development prevents wars. People need to understand that peace is the foundation of environmental well-being, and environmental well-being is the foundation of peace.

A Future Where There is Both Peace and Climate Justice

Each of these steps can lead to real change. Yes, they require effort, time, and perseverance. But is that not how history is made? A single river that was saved can inspire an entire movement. A single country’s bold rejection of nuclear weapons (as Belarus once did when it voluntarily surrendered its Soviet-era nuclear arsenal) can become a turning point. A single cooperative environmental project between two countries could break the ice of mistrust.

Dear friends, some may say: there are too many problems—how can we possibly solve them all? But history shows us that humanity has always found a way forward in its darkest hours. This is one of those moments. We do not have the right to surrender. We are the ones whom future generations will ask: “What did you do when the world was on the brink—of war, of climate catastrophe?” And we must be able to answer honestly: “We did everything we could. We fought. And we won.”

I believe in the power of people. I believe that the voices of thousands of young people marching for climate justice have already changed global policy. Just as the voices of anti-war movements have, time and again, halted the arms race. Now, the time has come to merge these two powerful forces into one. The climate wave and the peace wave must become a tsunami of change.

Imagine the Baltic and Belarus 20 years from now: *The Neris River flows freely, families walk along its banks, otters swim in its waters, and a sign reads, “Protected Nature Reserve—Restored Through Collective Efforts.” The Baltic Sea shines with cleanliness, as an international team completes the removal of the last barrel of chemical weapons from the seabed. The Ostrovets nuclear site is no longer a power plant but a vast solar energy park, supplying the region with clean electricity and sustainable agriculture. Belarus has no missiles or nuclear bombs, but it does have forests, nature reserves, and eco-tourism. Visitors from neighboring countries walk freely across borders, enjoying nature, having long forgotten about hostility. Fantasy? No. This is achievable—if we start acting now.

Let me conclude with simple words: Peace and the Earth are one. We cannot protect one while destroying the other. Let our motto be: “No climate—no peace. No peace—no climate.” We will fight for both—and we will win, because truth and life are on our side.

Each of you is a crucial part of this fight. Do not underestimate the power of your actions. Sign petitions, join marches, educate your neighbors and colleagues, and support one another. Our voices are more powerful than bombs—because they create hope, not fear.

Thank you for listening. Let us turn this inspiration into action. For the Neris. For the Baltic. For peace. For the climate. Let our children live on a flourishing Earth—not among ruins. And let them remember those who, in 2025, had the courage to stand up and say: “Let there be peace. Let there be a clean planet.”

We can do this. We will do this—together. Thank you!

Olga Karach

Our House

Belarus

 

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