How Russia Helped North Korea Go Nuclear and Now May Be Doing the Same for Iran

In the early 1960s, Soviet engineers arrived quietly in North Korea. Their assignment: to help build a research reactor and train a generation of nuclear scientists at a site that would eventually become synonymous with global anxiety—Yongbyon. Officially, the assistance was framed as peaceful nuclear cooperation under the banner of “Atoms for Peace.” But decades later, that collaboration would bear fruit in the form of warheads and ballistic missiles that now threaten regional and global security.
At the time, Moscow denied any intention to assist North Korea’s military program. It insisted its work was purely civilian in nature. Yet the facts on the ground tell a different story.
The Soviet Union signed nuclear cooperation agreements with North Korea in 1959 and again in 1962. In 1965, the IRT-2000 research reactor—built with Soviet assistance and Soviet-supplied fuel—began operations at Yongbyon. While technically intended for medical and industrial isotope production, the reactor’s design allowed for the production of weapons-grade plutonium. The USSR also helped train North Korean personnel at nuclear institutes like Dubna and supplied uranium prospecting technology and advice, enabling North Korea to develop its own domestic nuclear fuel cycle.

Satellite imagery and declassified documents confirm that Soviet engineers helped build the foundational infrastructure of Yongbyon: the reactor, its associated laboratories, and the transportation links that supported fuel delivery and extraction. Though the reactor did not fall under IAEA safeguards until 1977, it had already produced significant quantities of plutonium by then. The safeguards, such as they were, didn’t prevent Pyongyang from gradually reconfiguring the reactor to serve military aims—steps taken independently by the 1980s, but only possible because of earlier Soviet technical aid.
This Cold War-era precedent matters today because the same nation that once denied aiding North Korea’s bomb now claims to oppose nuclear proliferation in the Middle East—while simultaneously deepening military cooperation with Iran.
In January 2025, Russia signed a 20-year strategic partnership with Tehran, pledging cooperation in defense, technology, and intelligence. Iran, which already supplies drones and missiles to Russia for its war in Ukraine, is seeking upgrades in satellite systems, radar technology, and long-range missile precision—capabilities with clear dual-use potential. Just as Pyongyang’s first steps in nuclear development were disguised as peaceful, Iran’s requests are couched in defensive necessity.
The Kremlin has officially denied providing any nuclear or weapons technology to Iran. But it also denied any such role with North Korea—even as it built Yongbyon. The parallels are hard to ignore. Moscow again finds itself isolated from the West, under heavy sanctions, and in need of strategic partnerships with rogue states. North Korea has already provided Moscow with artillery and ballistic missiles; Iran is providing drones and access to regional influence. In return, both are receiving what appear to be advanced military capabilities—and perhaps much more.
The case of North Korea illustrates how military nuclear capabilities can evolve from dual-use infrastructure and training. Russia never shipped North Korea a nuclear weapon. It didn’t need to. It simply provided the tools and knowledge to build one, all while maintaining diplomatic cover and denying any violation of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. That’s exactly what may be happening with Iran.
Tehran has enriched uranium to near-weapons-grade levels. What it lacks—at least publicly—is final-stage warhead miniaturization, advanced missile guidance, and long-range delivery integration. These are all areas where Moscow has the expertise and, in the case of North Korea, a proven history of export.
Russia’s recent cooperation with Pyongyang has included space and satellite coordination, crucial for long-range missile targeting, and likely support with reentry vehicle design. It’s not a stretch to imagine the same assistance being repackaged for Iran.
Western intelligence assessments and warnings from NATO have focused on the North Korea–Russia axis. But the same logic—covert support under formal denials—likely applies to Tehran. The strategic benefit to Moscow is clear: by helping Iran inch closer to nuclear capability, Russia destabilizes the U.S.-led order in the Middle East without firing a shot. And by denying everything, it avoids the consequences—at least in the short term.
In retrospect, Soviet denials about Yongbyon now read as deliberate obfuscation. The facility they helped build became the heart of North Korea’s nuclear weapons program. The world watched that mistake unfold over decades. Iran’s path may be faster, more opaque, and more dangerous—especially if Russia has once again decided that proliferation is a tool, not a threat.
History, it seems, is not just repeating—it’s being re-engineered.