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USA Today
4 days ago
- Politics
- USA Today
It was sold in 1867, but some Russians want Alaska back from the US
Theories that the United States swindled Russia out of Alaska in 1867 have percolated through the decades. Way back in 1991, as the once-mighty Soviet Union disintegrated and Westerners cheered, Vladimir Putin's favorite rock and roll band released 'Don't Fool Around, America,' a patriotic hit about an even older lost cause – Russia's 1867 sale of Alaska to the United States. This bouncy, accordion-driven single ignored the disorienting collapse of the Soviet dictatorship and instead pointed listeners east, 2.4 miles across the Bering Strait, to the 49th U.S. state, demanding: 'Give us our dear Alaska back/Give us our dear native land.' Now the song, by rabble-rousing rockers Lyuba (the Loud Ones), has taken on new significance as President Donald Trump prepares to host Vladimir Putin at an Alaskan military base – and conspiracy theories resurface claiming Uncle Sam swindled Mother Russia out of the 665,000-square-mile Arctic jewel. Russian America Part theory, part wish, longstanding Alaska conspiracies gain prominence in Russia during times of conflict, when nationalists invoke perceived betrayals of the 19th century Russian and 20th century Soviet empires, said Andrei Znamenski, a history professor at the University of Memphis. Such talk 'is amplified' now, amid the Ukraine war and the August 15 Trump-Putin summit, Znamensi told USA TODAY. 'It turns out that Russian America was not sold to the United States. The real events were completely different,' one Russian news outlet wrote recently, describing an alternative – and, historians say, false – account in which Russia's claimed dominion in Alaska was merely leased to the United States, with the lease long expired. An 'act of spite' The first permanent Russian settlement in Alaska was founded in 1784, and the state today still preserves a handful of Russian Orthodox churches. Some residents of the Aleutian Islands continue to practice a syncretic combination of Orthodox Christianity and shamanism, Znamenski said. But after Russia's defeat at the hands of the British in the costly 1854-56 Crimean War, Tsar Nicholas II decided to cut his losses and relinquish the difficult-to-defend Alaska. Britain, which ruled Canada, was eyeing the rich territory, so Nicholas sold it for $7 million to a less bellicose bidder: The United States. 'It was an act of spite' against England, Znamenski said. Nicholas hasn't been forgiven by nationalist writers, some of whom see him as the dupe of Masonic and Jewish conspiracies. One author, Ivan Mironov, wrote his 2007 book, 'A Fateful Deal: How Alaska was Sold,' while in jail for plotting the assassination of a reformist former deputy prime minister. Paradise lost Alaska and Crimea remain linked in some ways today, both viewed as historic Russian regions lost by weak leaders – Yeltsin, the first president of independent Russia, is reviled for recognizing Crimea as part of Ukraine after the USSR collapsed. In 2016, two years after Russia seized Crimea from Ukraine, a black granite memorial was raised in Sailors' Square of the Black Sea city of Yevpatoria with a command to future generations: "We returned Crimea, it's up to you to return Alaska." 'Siberia and Alaska, the two shores are the same,' Lyuba sang. 'Women, horses, thrills along the way.' A music video for the song begins with an animated machine gun severing Alaska from the North American continent. (Lyuba's lead singer was later elected to the Russian parliament, or Duma, as a member of Putin's United Russia party.) All or nothing For most of the Russian nationalist intelligentsia, Alaska is less a jewel to be recovered than a warning against any concession to the West. Alexander Dugin, a leading intellectual of Russia's 'Eurasianist' far right who's closely tied to Putin, has often raised the Alaska example. Dugin, whose adult daughter was killed in a 2022 car bombing blamed on Ukraine's secret service – for which he was the presumed target – was deadly serious in discussing the stakes of the Alaska summit in a recent article. 'Putin has repeatedly admitted that the West never keeps its word, constantly deceives and distorts, and to trust its leaders in any way is impossible under any circumstances,' he wrote August 13 in the Russian-language newsweekly Stolista-S. 'For Trump, it is a deal, for us fate,' Dugin said. 'Ukraine will either be ours or nothing at all.'
USA Today
4 days ago
- Politics
- USA Today
It was sold in 1867, but some Russians want Alaska back from the U.S.
Theories that the United States swindled Russia out of Alaska in 1867 have percolated through the decades. Way back in 1991, as the once-mighty Soviet Union disintegrated and Westerners cheered, Vladimir Putin's favorite rock and roll band released 'Don't Fool Around, America,' a patriotic hit about an even older lost cause – Russia's 1867 sale of Alaska to the United States. This bouncy, accordion-driven single ignored the disorienting collapse of the Soviet dictatorship and instead pointed listeners east, across the Bering Strait, to the 49th U.S. state, demanding: 'Give us our dear Alaska back/Give us our dear native land.' Now the song, by rabble-rousing rockers Lyuba (the Loud Ones), has taken on new significance as President Donald Trump prepares to host Vladimir Putin at an Alaskan military base – and conspiracy theories resurface claiming Uncle Sam swindled Mother Russia out of the 665,000-square-mile Arctic jewel. Russian America Part theory, part wish, longstanding Alaska conspiracies gain prominence in Russia during times of conflict, when nationalists invoke perceived betrayals of the 19th century Russian and 20th century Soviet empires, said Andrei Znamenski, a history professor at the University of Memphis. Such talk 'is amplified' now, amid the Ukraine war and the August 15 Trump-Putin summit, Znamensi told USA TODAY. 'It turns out that Russian America was not sold to the United States. The real events were completely different,' one Russian news outlet wrote recently, describing an alternative – and, historians say, false – account in which Russia's claimed dominion in Alaska was merely leased to the U.S., with the lease long expired. An 'act of spite' The first permanent Russian settlement in Alaska was founded in 1784, and the state today still preserves a handful of Russian Orthodox churches. Some residents of the Aleutian Islands continue to practice a syncretic combination of Orthodox Christianity and shamanism, Znamenski said. But after Russia's defeat at the hands of the British in the costly 1854-56 Crimean War, Tsar Nicholas II decided to cut his losses and relinquish the difficult-to-defend Alaska. Britain, which ruled Canada, was eyeing the rich territory, so Nicholas sold it for $7 million to a less bellicose bidder: The United States. 'It was an act of spite' against England, Znamenski said. Nicholas hasn't been forgiven by nationalist writers, some of whom see him as the dupe of Masonic and Jewish conspiracies. One author, Ivan Mironov, wrote his 2007 book, 'A Fateful Deal: How Alaska was Sold,' while in jail for plotting the assassination of a reformist former deputy prime minister. Paradise lost Alaska and Crimea remain linked in some ways today, both viewed as historic Russian regions lost by weak leaders – Yeltsin, the first president of independent Russia, is reviled for recognizing Crimea as part of Ukraine after the USSR collapsed. In 2016, two years after Russia seized Crimea from Ukraine, a black granite memorial was raised in Sailors' Square of the Black Sea city of Yevpatoria with a command to future generations: "We returned Crimea, it's up to you to return Alaska." 'Siberia and Alaska, the two shores are the same,' Lyuba sang. 'Women, horses, thrills along the way.' A music video for the song begins with an animated machine gun severing Alaska from the North American continent. (Lyuba's lead singer was later elected to the Russian parliament, or Duma, as a member of Putin's United Russia party.) All or nothing For most of the Russian nationalist intelligentsia, Alaska is less a jewel to be recovered than a warning against any concession to the West. Alexander Dugin, a leading intellectual of Russia's 'Eurasianist' far right who's closely tied to Putin, has often raised the Alaska example. Dugin, whose adult daughter was killed in a 2022 car bombing blamed on Ukraine's secret service – for which he was the presumed target – was deadly serious in discussing the stakes of the Alaska summit in a recent article. 'Putin has repeatedly admitted that the West never keeps its word, constantly deceives and distorts, and to trust its leaders in any way is impossible under any circumstances,' he wrote August 13 in the Russian-language newsweekly Stolista-S. 'For Trump, it is a deal, for us fate,' Dugin said. 'Ukraine will either be ours or nothing at all.'
Russia Today
4 days ago
- Russia Today
Alaska: Before it was America's last frontier, it was Russia's first
Choosing Alaska as the meeting place for the presidents of Russia and the United States may look unconventional. However, it is a deeply symbolic and probably intentional choice. Alaska is more than just a remote US state; it once served as Russia's frontier, its only significant overseas possession, and was considered almost a mythical land. The story of Russian America, similar to those of other Russian frontiers, was full of drama and adventure. By the early 18th century, Russians had explored most of Siberia and come up against a natural barrier. For over a century, explorers journeyed eastward in search of fur, walrus ivory, and other treasures that Siberia could offer. In the southeast, they encountered the vast and largely unknown expanse of China, leading to various confrontations before the borders with the Asian power were established. Further north, they navigated the picturesque, majestic, yet seemingly impractical Kamchatka Peninsula. Beyond lay only the immense Pacific Ocean, and those who reached its waters felt like they were standing at the edge of the world. Farther north, in some of the harshest terrains where survival was a challenge even by Siberian standards, lay the Chukotka Peninsula, home to the fierce and untamed Chukchi people. This was the farthest corner of Russia, a wild and hostile area fraught with danger. While developing Chukotka proved to be a challenge, the explorers had a pretty good idea about its contours. In the mid-17th century, while searching for fur, explorer Semyon Dezhnev navigated around Chukotka and reported a strait to the east. It didn't take long to discover new lands beyond that strait. In Siberia, rumours circulated about Russians who had been swept by storms onto the American continent, where they settled. Captured Chukchi also told tales about the unknown land. Over time, the conflict with the Chukchi ended and gave way to trade relations, and the Chukchi became Russian subjects. However, there seemed to be no reason to arrange an expedition to Alaska. Crossing the ocean was just too costly. Nevertheless, the Russians continued to explore the region. In the mid-18th century, a massive research expedition encompassing Siberia, the Arctic Ocean, and eventually the waters of the Pacific was launched. The expedition was split into seven teams, each with a specific task. In 1741, a group led by Captains Bering and Chirikov reached the American continent aboard two packet boats. They didn't find any Russian settlements, but confirmed that this was indeed the American continent. Gradually, Russians learned more about the region and began harvesting marine animals – primarily various seals and sea otters – in the Pacific. Additionally, they discovered Arctic foxes in Alaska. All these factors made voyages to Alaska economically promising. The Russians established settlements along the shores of America, and several companies laid claim to the riches of Alaska. In the 1780s, they began constructing small forts along the Alaskan coastline. In 1784, an expedition led by Irkutsk merchant Grigory Shelikhov built a fort on Kodiak Island. By the end of the century, it had developed into a thriving fortress with residents and priests who baptized the local Aleuts. At that time, there were barely over 500 Russian settlers. Empress Catherine the Great sent additional settlers – laborers, officials, and clergy. Competition among fur traders culminated in the formation of the Russian-American Company in 1797, which pushed its rivals out of the market. Shelikhov died a wealthy man, and his heirs transformed the Russian-American Company into a local monopoly; the Russian Empire granted it many privileges. Life in Alaska was extreme even by Russian standards, but there were always people who were willing to come – usually, to escape serfdom, taxes, and oppressive masters. One such settler shrugged off the hardships, saying, 'There are no masters in America.' The Russians established friendly relations with the Aleuts, the most numerous local group, who eagerly adopted new tools, useful European household items, and customs, gradually drawing closer to their Russian neighbors. In 1799, Shelikhov's close associate Alexander Baranov established a fort in Sitka. Here, the Russians crossed paths with English traders and, more importantly, the Tlingit Indians. This fierce warrior tribe believed the Russians were encroaching on their land and hunting sea otters within their territory, which was indeed true. Additionally, many Russians married Tlingit women, stoking resentment among the indigenous men. Unlike the British, the Russians also refused to sell firearms to the Tlingits. Confrontation became nearly inevitable: everyone wanted sea otters, and everyday challenges heightened tensions. Bloodshed followed. In 1802, the Tlingits attacked, captured and burned down the fort while most of the inhabitants were out hunting, killing nearly all its defenders and ambushing hunting parties in the area. A total of 24 Russians and about 200 allied Aleuts and Eskimos were killed. Baranov was furious but kept his composure. In 1804, he led an expedition back to Sitka with 150 Russians and 900 Eskimos, Aleuts, and allied Indians. They besieged the Tlingit wooden stronghold, bombarding it with cannons. The Tlingits, fearing capture, killed their elders and children to prevent them from falling into Russian hands and fled. In 1805, fighting broke out again at the Yakutat fort, resulting in more casualties and brutal skirmishes. While these conflicts slowed Russian expansion, they didn't stop it. The Tlingits were hardly the peaceful natives of pastoral tales – having eaten one missionary, they claimed that they had partaken of his body and blood. Fighting continued, and Baranov did not live to see its end. Old and worn out, he retired and died on his way back to St. Petersburg. Nevertheless, the Russians and Tlingits eventually found common ground and divided the land. In 1818, they signed a peace treaty. Much like with the Chukchi on the Eurasian continent, the Tlingits were ultimately subdued through trade; tobacco, potatoes, and bread proved stronger than cannons. The Russians continued their journey along the shores of America, and for a time, there was even a Russian settlement in California – Fort Ross. The land for this little town was acquired from the native tribes in exchange for three blankets, three pairs of trousers, two axes, and three hoes. The Russians were drawn to California by a practical consideration: Alaska was too cold, so Fort Ross was established to supply food for the hunters. At Fort Ross, they raised livestock, planted orchards, and even built small ships that they sold to the Spanish. Interestingly, alongside the Russians, several dozen Aleuts migrated from Alaska to California as well. Eventually, the colony was dissolved, but it has survived to this day as an open-air museum. Throughout this time, the Russians faced a major challenge – there were too few of them in America. Despite the colonization of Alaska and expeditions to California, the Russian population in America did not exceed 1,000 people. Russia's Far East was already considered remote territory; even today, reaching Kamchatka or Chukotka from central Russia is difficult and expensive. This was especially true in the era of the Russian Empire, when the Trans-Siberian railway and air travel didn't exist. Kamchatka and Chukotka are at the far edges of the continent, meaning that to get to Alaska from central Russia, one had to travel to what felt like the edge of the world, board a ship, and cross the ocean. There were also about as many 'Creoles' – descendants of mixed marriages with Aleut, Eskimo, and Native American women. Over time, their numbers grew, and by the mid-19th century, there were about 1,500 Creoles and 600-700 Russian settlers. However, these were still very small colonies. The fate of the Russian settlements in America mirrored the story of Viking colonies on the opposite side of the continent: for the Scandinavians, Greenland was a distant outpost, while Vinland – America – lay even further beyond. If the Russians had trouble exploring and developing Siberia due to its vast expanses and harsh climate, it's no wonder that they simply didn't have enough people and resources when it came to Alaska. Russian priests eased the situation somewhat. The missionaries carried out active work and instead of engaging in witch hunts, learned local languages and helped the population. As a result, to this day there is still a considerable number of Orthodox Christians in Alaska – the descendants of those converted by the Russian missionaries. By the mid-19th century, Russia began questioning the necessity of having a colony in Alaska. The population of sea otters had declined due to relentless hunting. The prices paid by the Russian-American Company to hunters were rising, leading to diminishing profits from reselling. For a while, the colony's budget was buoyed by an unconventional trade – harvesting ice for California, which was in the throes of a gold rush and willing to pay for ice to store food. However, that source soon dried up as well. Russian rulers had several reasons to be concerned about Alaska: due to its remote location, it was difficult to protect the colony in case of an armed conflict; meanwhile, it consumed resources and the return on investment was minimal. The idea to sell the territory originated with Nikolai Muravyov-Amursky, the governor-general of Eastern Siberia. A staunch Russian imperialist who made significant contributions to the development of Siberia and strengthening Russia's position in the Far East, Muravyov recognized a harsh reality: the United States and the British had far easier access to Alaska, and selling it would be wiser than facing potential conflict without the means to defend the territory. These considerations led to negotiations with the US government. In 1867, Emperor Alexander II sold Russian America for $7.2 million – a substantial sum for that era. The Russian government rightly concluded that holding onto a territory where there were so few Russians and which lacked serious economic value made little sense. Moreover, Russia needed the money: the funds from Alaska went toward building the railway network in Russia. Today, many Russians view the sale of Alaska with good-natured irony. The story has lingered in popular culture – in one song, Russia offers America valenki [Russian felt boots] to help deal with the cold, while a famous Russian rock opera tells the romantic story of Nikolai Rezanov, a Russian diplomat and explorer, who fell in love with María Concepción Argüello, the daughter of the Spanish governor of San Francisco. They became engaged and Rezanov set off back to Russia, vowing to return, but fell ill and passed away on the journey. The rock opera 'Juno and Avos' based on this poignant love story has become a classic in Russia. As for Alaska, it remains the point where Russia, the US, and the indigenous peoples of that rugged and beautiful land once crossed paths.
