Editorial Board / Comité de rédaction
Editor-in-Chief
Rédacteur en chef
Kenneth McRoberts, York University, Canada
Associate Editors
Rédacteurs adjoints
Mary Jean Green, Dartmouth College, U.S.A.
Lynette Hunter, University of Leeds, United Kingdom
Danielle Juteau, Université de Montréal, Canada
Managing Editor
Secrétaire de rédaction
Guy Leclair, ICCS/CIEC, Ottawa, Canada
Advisory Board / Comité consultatif
Alessandro Anastasi, Universita di Messina, Italy
Michael Burgess, University of Keele, United Kingdom
Paul Claval, Université de Paris-Sorbonne (Paris IV), France
Dona Davis, University of South Dakota, U.S.A.
Peter H. Easingwood, University of Dundee, United Kingdom
Ziran He, Guangzhou Institute of Foreign Languages, China
Helena G. Komkova, Institute of the USA and Canada, USSR
Shirin L. Kudchedkar, SNDT Women’s University, India
Karl Lenz, Freie Universität Berlin, Germany
Gregory Mahler, University of Mississippi, U.S.A.
James P. McCormick, California State University, U.S.A.
William Metcalfe, University of Vermont, U.S.A.
Chandra Mohan, University of Delhi, India
Elaine F. Nardocchio, McMaster University, Canada
Satoru Osanai, Chuo University, Japan
Manuel Parés I Maicas, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Espagne
Réjean Pelletier, Université Laval, Canada
Gemma Persico, Universita di Catania, Italy
Richard E. Sherwin, Bar Ilan University, Israel
William J. Smyth, St. Patrick’s College, Ireland
Sverker Sörlin, Umea University, Sweden
Oleg Soroko-Tsupa, Moscow State University, USSR
Michèle Therrien, Institut des langues et civilisations orientales, France
Gaëtan Tremblay, Université du Québec à Montréal, Canada
Hillig J.T. van’t Land, Rijksuniversiteit Groningen, Pays-Bas
Mel Watkins, University of Toronto, Canada
Gillian Whitlock, Griffith University, Australia
Donez Xiques, Brooklyn College, U.S.A.
2
International Journal of Canadian Studies
Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
Canada and the USSR/CIS: Northern Neighbours
Partenaires du Nord : le Canada et l'URSS/CÉI
Table of Contents/Table des matières
J.L. Black
Introduction/Présentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Leigh Sarty
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of Canadian-Soviet
Relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Kim Richard Nossal
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy towards the USSR,
1985 to 1991 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Helena G. Komkova
Canadian Studies in Russia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
John B. Hannigan
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and Russia:
A Natural Partnership? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Mary Ann Van Meenen
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian Governments Toward
the Native Peoples of Siberia and the Northwest Territories . . . . . . . 71
Tatiana Zabelina and Yevgenia Issraelyan
Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the Modern World . . . . . 95
Arkadi Tcherkassov
La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
Rémi Hyppia
Les relations Québec-Russie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115
Donald Senese
James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies . . . . . . . . . . . 125
Jean-Guy Lalande
Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse canadienne,
1914-1916. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
Sergei Yu. Danilov
Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
Matt Bray
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in Canadian, British,
Finnish and Soviet Relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
André Donneur
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS : de la rigidité à
l'ouverture. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
Introduction
Présentation
The differences between
Canadians and Russians are wellknown. Their lives always have
been conducted within vastly
different social, political and
economic systems. Canadians are
part of a relatively new national
state and represent an amalgam
of immigrants from many
countries and ethnic groups,
while Russians are a distinct
nationality that populates a large
territory into which very few
people(s) have immigrated.
Although both Imperial Russia
and the USSR were multinational, they were dominated by
Russians culturally and
politically. Canadians are a
hybrid of myriad nationalities.
Our two countries have been
competitors in trade since the
middle of the ninetenth century,
and enemies at the official level
far more often than they have
been friends.
Les différences entre les Canadiens et
les Russes sont bien connues. Leurs
vies se sont toujours déroulées dans
des systèmes sociaux, politiques et
économiques extrêmement différents.
Les Canadiens font partie d'un État
relativement neuf et constituent un
amalgame d'immigrants de nombreux
pays et groupes ethniques, tandis que
les Russes sont une nation distincte
qui occupe un vaste territoire où bien
peu de gens, ou de peuples, sont
venus vivre de l'extérieur. Bien que la
Russie impériale et l'URSS aient été
des États multinationaux, la culture et
la politique russes y dominaient. Les
Canadiens sont des hybrides issus
d'une myriade de nationalités. Nos
deux pays s'affrontent sur les marchés
internationaux depuis le milieu du
dix-neuvième siècle, et ils ont
officiellement été des pays ennemis
beaucoup plus souvent qu'ils n'ont été
des amis.
Nevertheless, the similarities
between Canada and Russia are
striking. Indeed, they have a
number of things in common
which they share with no other
countries. These similarities have
been noticed by Russians for
nearly two centuries, while
Canadians, for the most part,
have ignored them. In the
nineteenth century individual
Russians often used Canada as a
model — usually in an Aesopian
format — for a wide variety of
proposals for change in their own
country. In this century, Canada
sometimes was seen as the square
peg to squeeze into an
ideological round hole; that is, an
Il n'en demeure pas moins que les
similitudes entre le Canada et la
Russie sont frappantes. En fait, les
deux pays partagent même un certain
nombre de caractéristiques qui leur
sont propres. Les Russes ont noté ces
ressemblances depuis près de deux
siècles, tandis que, pour la plupart, les
Canadiens les ont ignorées. Au dixneuvième siècle, dans l'imaginaire
personnel des Russes, le Canada
servait de modèle — un peu comme
dans une fable d'Ésope — à une vaste
gamme de changements qu'ils se
proposaient d'apporter à leur propre
pays. Au cours du vingtième siècle, le
Canada a parfois été perçu comme la
pièce carrée qu'on essaie d'insérer
dans un trou rond, c.-à-d. un pays
« impérialiste », mais qui était lui
aussi victime de l'impérialisme (à la
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
“imperialist” country that was
also a victim of (British and
American) imperialism. The
Canadian-Russian relationship
has been extraordinarily
inconsistent at the diplomatic
level. The Canadian government
has treated the USSR as an
enemy longer than any other
Western industrialized country,
and it has imposed embargoes
against the Soviet Union and its
agencies regularly. But Canadian
politicians also have participated
in several unique initiatives to
establish special association with
the USSR, as visits to Moscow by
L.B. Pearson (1955) and P.E.
Trudeau (1971) attest.
Canada and Russia share most of
the world's arctic lands.
Canadians and Russians are
northern peoples and a
“northernness” shapes and
nurtures our literature and culture
— and our mutual love for
hockey. We live in lands with
similar flora and fauna.
Communication and
transportation in both countries
are uniquely influenced by vast
distances. We inhabit the world's
two largest officially multicultural and bilingual
communities and share the
experience of living in countries
where the relationship between
the centre and the periphery has
consistently been troubling.
We also share an obsession with
our mutual neighbour, the United
States, if not always for the same
reasons.
This collection of essays is an
indirect outcome of two
independent events. The first was
the creation in 1990 of a large
organized research unit at
6
fois britannique et américain). Les
relations canado-russes ont été
souvent extraordinairement
incohérentes au plan diplomatique.
Le Canada a traité l'URSS comme
une ennemie plus longtemps que ne
l'a fait tout autre pays industrialisé et
lui a régulièrement imposé des
embargos ainsi qu'à ses agences. D'un
autre côté, des politiciens canadiens
ont également participé à plusieurs
initiatives à caractère unique visant à
s'associer de façon particulière avec
l'URSS, comme en témoignent les
visites à Moscou de L.B. Pearson, en
1955, et de P.E. Trudeau, en 1971.
Le Canada et la Russie se partagent la
plupart des terres arctiques du globe.
Les Canadiens et les Russes sont des
peuples nordiques et cette
« nordicité » modèle et alimente notre
littérature et notre culture — pour ne
rien dire de notre amour du hockey.
Les terres que nous habitons
nourrissent des flores et des faunes
très semblables. Les vastes étendues
de nos deux pays exercent une
influence sur les communications et
les transports qui est tout à fait propre
à nos deux pays. Nous faisons partie
des deux plus grandes collectivités
officiellement multiculturelles et
bilingues, et nous partageons
l'expérience de vivre dans des pays
où la relation entre le centre et la
périphérie a toujours été
perturbatrice.
Par ailleurs, nous sommes tous les
deux obsédés par notre voisin
commun, les États-Unis, même si ce
n'est pas toujours pour les mêmes
raisons.
Le présent recueil d'articles est le
résultat indirect de deux événements
complètement indépendants l'un de
l'autre. Le premier remonte à la
création, en 1990, d'une grande unité
Canada and the USSR/CIS: Northern Neighbours
Partenaires du Nord : le Canada et l'URSS/CÉI
Carleton University, the Centre
for Canadian-Soviet Studies
(now the Cenre for Research on
Canadian-Russian Relations
[CRCR]), whose mandate it was
to compile data on existing
studies on Canadian-Soviet
relations in both Canada and the
USSR. CRCR also aspired to
further such study by means of
research, academic courses, postdoctoral fellowships, seminars, a
speakers series, and travel to
Russia. The Centre was
established by means of a very
generous grant from the Donner
Canadian Foundation.
de recherches à l'Université Carleton,
le Centre for Canadian-Soviet Studies
(aujourd'hui nommé le Centre for
Research on Canadian-Russian
Relations [CRCR]), dont le mandat
était de compiler des données
relatives aux études portant sur les
relations canado-soviétiques, tant au
Canada qu'en URSS. Le CRCR
aspirait également à pousser plus loin
ces études par le biais de recherches,
cours universitaires, bourses postdoctorales, séminaires et de séries de
conférences et voyages en Russie.
Une très généreuse subvention de la
Fondation canadienne Donner a
permis au Centre de voir le jour.
The second related event was the
establishment in 1989 of an
member association of the
International Council for
Canadian Studies in Moscow.
The Moscow organization,
headed then by Dr. Leon
Bagramov, actively participated
in ICCS events and worked to
consolidate existing research
relationships between Russian
and Canadian scholars. A
culmination of this process in
Russia was a conference held in
Moscow in July, 1993. Entitled,
“Canada Viewed from East and
West,” the meetings brought
together an unusually large
percentage of people who study
the Russian-Canadian
relationship.
Le deuxième événement fut la
création d'une association membre du
Conseil international d'études
canadiennes (CIEC) à Moscou, en
1989. L'Association soviétique
d'études canadiennes (aujourd'hui
appelée l'Association russe d'études
canadiennes), alors dirigée par le Dr
Leon Bagramov, a pris une part
active aux activités du CIEC, en plus
de travailler à la consolidation des
liens qui existaient déjà au plan de la
recherche entre universitaires russes
et canadiens. Ce processus a atteint
un sommet lors d'une conférence qui
s'est déroulée à Moscou, en juillet
1993. Sous le thème « Le Canada du
point de vue de l'Est et de l'Ouest »,
ces rencontres réunissaient un
pourcentage inhabituellement élevé
de chercheurs qui s'intéressent aux
relations entre le Canada et la Russie.
Although the following
collection of essays was being
prepared well before the
conference took place in
Moscow, several of our Russian
contributions came to us as a
result of that event. It is
impossible for a collection of
essays to cover all dimension of
the subject at hand, but we hope
Bien que ce recueil était déjà en
préparation avant même la tenue de la
conférence de Moscou, plusieurs des
contributions russes nous sont
parvenues par la suite et résultent de
cet événement. Même s'il est
impossible qu'un recueil d'articles
parvienne à cerner un sujet sous
7
IJCS / RIÉC
that our cross-section of
historical pieces, comparative
studies, investigations of mutual
perception, diplomatic surveys,
and topical (i.e., on the North)
will help fill a few gaps in our
readers' understanding of Canada
and Russia as neighbours. We
hope also that it will spur on
further such study.
J.L. Black
Guest Editor
Carleton University
toutes ses facettes, nous espérons que
cet échantillon de relevés historiques,
d'études comparatives, d'enquêtes sur
la façon dont nous nous percevons les
uns les autres, de sondages
diplomatiques et d'articles sur un
sujet d'actualité (c.-à-d. sur le Nord)
aidera à combler quelques lacunes
dans la compréhension qu'ont nos
lecteurs des relations entre le Canada
et la Russie en tant que voisins. Nous
espérons par ailleurs que ce recueil
suscitera bien d'autres études encore.
J.L. Black
Rédacteur invité
Université Carleton
8
Canada and the USSR/CIS: Northern Neighbours
Partenaires du Nord : le Canada et l'URSS/CÉI
Suggestion for Further Reading
Balawyder, Aloysius, Canadian-Soviet Relations Between the Two Wars. Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 1972.
Balawyder, Aloysius, ed., Canadian-Soviet Relations, 1939-1980. Oakville: Mosaic, 1981.
Black, J.L., comp., Soviet Perception of Canada, 1917-1987. An Annotated Bibliographic Guide.
2 Vols in One. Kingston: Frye Publishers, 1989. Plus Supplements 1-3. Ottawa: CRCR,
1990-1992.
Black, J.L., Norman Hillmer, eds., Nearly Neighbours: Canada and the Soviet Union from Cold
War to Détente and Beyond. Kingston: Frye Publishers, 1989.
Chandler, Andrea S., State Building, Customs Administration and Federalism: Lessons for Russia
from the Canadian Case. CRCR Occasional Paper No. 3. (1994)
Davies, David, ed., Canada and the Soviet Experiment. Waterloo: University of Waterloo Press,
1994.
Ford, Robert, Our Man in Moscow. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1989.
MacLaren, Roy, Canadians in Russia, 1918-1919. Toronto: Macmillan, 1975.
Sarty, Leigh, Détente, Cold War and Perestroika: Canadian-Soviet Relations Since 1980. CRCR
Occasional Paper No. 1 (1991)
Centre for Russian and East European Studies, University of Toronto: Working Papers
1. John W. Holmes, Toward a History of Canada's Relations with the Soviet Union (October 1986)
2. Janice Gross Stein, The Odd Couple: Analytical Perspectives on Canada's Relationship with the
Soviet Union (October 1986)
3. Lenard J. Cohen, Canada in the Soviet Elite Mindset: A Case of “New Political Thinking”
(October 1989)
4. Carl H. McMillan, Canada's Economic Relations with the USSR in the 1980s (October 1989)
5. M.J. Tucker, Canada and Arms Control: The Soviet Dimension (October 1989)
6. J.L. Black, Soviet Perception of Canada, 1945-1987: An Overview of the Literature (January
1990)
7. Franklyn Griffiths, The CSIS, Gorbachev, and Global Change: Canada's Internal Security and
Intelligence Requirements in Transition (January 1990).
9
Leigh Sarty
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations*
Abstract
This article reviews the history of Canadian-Soviet relations in an attempt to
determine the contemporary relevance of those relations in a world
transformed by the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the USSR. It shows
that dealings between Ottawa and Moscow have traditionally been shaped by
developments elsewhere in the international system, and in particular by the
two sides' respective dealings with Washington. During the Cold War, Ottawa
viewed its ties with Moscow as a means to further the distinctive agenda of the
“ham in the sandwich” in a bipolar world; for Moscow, periodic
rapprochement with its northern neighbour advanced its campaign for
“peaceful coexistence” and recognition as the world's “other” superpower.
Although the USSR and bipolarity have now passed from the international
scene, the continuing centrality of the United States in Russian and Canadian
foreign policy lends a certain relevance to the history recounted here.
Résumé
L'article passe en revue l'histoire des relations canado-soviétiques afin de
déterminer la pertinence que pourraient avoir aujourd'hui ces relations dans
un monde transformé par la fin de la Guerre froide et par le démantèlement de
l'URSS. L'article démontre que les relations entre Moscou et Ottawa ont été
traditionnellement façonnées par des développements qui ont survenu ailleurs
dans le système international et, plus particulièrement, par la relation
respective qu'entretenaient ces deux dernières avec Washington. Durant la
Guerre froide, Ottawa considérait ses liens avec Moscou comme un moyen de
faire avancer son programme unique de « ham in the sandwich [pays pris en
sandwich] » – comme le disait l'ancien premier ministre Lester B. Pearson –
dans un monde bipolaire; de son côté, Moscou, par un rapprochement
périodique avec son partenaire du Nord, faisait avancer sa campagne de
« coexistence facifique » et de reconnaissance en tant que l'« autre »
superpuissance mondiale. Bien que l'URSS et la bipolarité aient disparu de la
scène internationale, la place centrale que continue à occuper les États-Unis
dans la politique étrangère de la Russie et du Canada accorde une certaine
pertinence à l'historique fait ici.
Now that Canadian-Soviet relations have passed into history, it is appropriate
to ask what the lessons of that relationship are for the foreign policies of
Canada and the successor states of the USSR in the post-Soviet era. Has the
diplomatic record for the period 1917-1991 faded into irrelevancy together
with the Cold War? Or does the past yet have some light to shed on future
bilateral prospects? While the latter proposition seems more plausible, an
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
investigation along these lines should be approached with caution. Poorly
drawn and ill-applied “lessons of the past” have been a source of much grief in
world politics; the contemporary relevance of historical developments must
always be carefully qualified.1 That said, in a time of rapid international
change, it is worthwhile at least to try to identify tendencies in the history of
Canadian-Soviet relations that might help to guide policy choices in the
uncertain years ahead.
I
One problem with this approach is the unusual paucity of Canadian-Soviet
history. Canada's more powerful Western allies might be served well by a
review of their past dealings with Moscow, but Canadian-Soviet ties have
perhaps been too limited and too recent in origin to be useful in this regard. The
Germans, for example, can be reasonably certain that their power and strategic
location on Russia's Western doorstep will continue both to attract and repel
Gorbachev's successors much as they absorbed the attention of his
predecessors back to Tsarist times.2 Parallel interests and opportunism have
drawn Paris and Moscow together off and on since the 1890s, forging a unique
bond that has already been reaffirmed in the post-Soviet era.3 And few can
doubt that the global rivalry anticipated by deToqueville in the 19th century
and realized during four decades of Cold War in the 20th will weigh heavily
over future developments between Russia and the United States.4
Canadian-Soviet relations pale by comparison. Ottawa and Moscow barely
noticed one another before World War Two, and even when they did, bilateral
ties were sporadic at best. Tsarist policy makers were dimly aware of Canada
as a land that resembled Siberia and therefore attracted several thousand
Russian Dukhobor and Ukrainian emigrants at the turn of the century.5 The
Canadian government briefly entertained high hopes for Siberian trade, but
these were quickly dashed in the revolutionary aftermath of the First World
War. Canada's participation in the Allied intervention of 1918-1919
antagonized the new Bolshevik regime, and Moscow's inflammatory
propaganda infuriated the senior British Dominion. Nevertheless, Ottawa
dutifully followed Whitehall's lead by extending the USSR formal recognition
in the spring of 1924, and followed London again three years later by breaking
off relations over alleged Soviet interference in British politics. Ottawa did not
restore ties in 1929 as Britain did, however, and in 1931 backed its charges of
Soviet dumping in Canadian markets by imposing a full embargo on Soviet
fur, asbestos, timber products and coal. Moscow reciprocated, reducing
Soviet-Canadian contacts to a bare minimum until the Liberal administration
of Mackenzie King lifted the embargo and began to push for improved
bilateral trade in 1936. A modest warming trend thereafter was abruptly halted
by the Nazi-Soviet Nonaggression Pact of August 1939. Full diplomatic
relations were only re-established in 1942, when Canada and the USSR found
common cause in the struggle against Nazi Germany.
To be sure, this sorry early record is not without some relevance for the
subsequent (and possible future) development of Canadian-Soviet (-postSoviet) relations. Ottawa's hostility toward the Bolsheviks after 1917 was
12
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
fuelled in part by the presence in Canada of slavic émigrés with a strong
personal aversion to the Soviet regime; opposition to Bolshevism also played
well in Quebec, where Roman Catholic opinion leaders preached the evils of
“Godless” communism. These domestic constituencies, whose ranks were
strengthened considerably by a fresh wave of East European immigration after
1945, helped to ensure Canada's anti-Soviet alignment during the Cold War,
and constrained Ottawa's broader inclination to seek to ameliorate East-West
tensions by reaching out to Moscow. Now that the Soviet empire has
collapsed, this troubled chapter in Canadian-Soviet history can be read in a
more positive light, as Canadians with roots in former Soviet lands apply their
unique language and other needed skills to the problems of post-Soviet
development.
The clash of economic interests during the interwar period has resonances in
the postwar and post-Soviet eras as well. The 1931 embargo reflected the
competitive character of the Canadian and Soviet economies. Both were (and
have remained) primarily exporters of raw materials. On the other hand, EastWest barriers and bureaucratic inertia always prevented the two sides from
fully exploiting their complementary interests as hewers of wood and drawers
of water in a Northern climate. (Each had much to offer the other, for example,
in terms of technological and informational exchange). As a result, despite
periodic efforts on both sides, bilateral trade between 1945 and 1991
(including Canadian grain sales) never climbed above two percent of Canada's
annual total. The passing of the Cold War has eliminated some but not all of the
obstacles to an expanded trade relationship with the former USSR. History
therefore counsels restrained expectations in this traditionally difficult sphere.
II
If Canadian-Soviet dealings in the interwar period were too cool and disparate
to offer much food for future thought, one might well ask how relations after
1945 were any different. Joint resistance to Nazi Germany drew Ottawa and
Moscow together for the duration of the war, but its aftermath found the
erstwhile allies on opposite sides of the emerging East-West divide. As a
result, trade and other ties remained quite limited. In four and a half decades,
only three high-level encounters — visits to the USSR by Lester Pearson and
Prime Ministers Pierre Trudeau and Brian Mulroney in 1955, 1971, and 1989
respectively — stand out against an otherwise bleak bilateral landscape.6
What had changed profoundly, however, was the international system. Before
1939, five great powers — Germany, France, Great Britain, the Soviet Union
and Japan — jockeyed for position in Europe and Asia while a sixth — the
United States — remained aloof. Soviet objectives in this multipolar world
were regional and largely defensive. Staving off a German assault was the
Kremlin's first priority. Canada had concerns in Europe as well, but fears about
the internal consequences of international involvement (a commitment to war
at Britain's side would cause trouble in Quebec) and the comforting buffer of
the North Atlantic Ocean rendered Canada all but invisible in the effort to avert
war on the continent. After 1945, only two great powers — the Soviet Union
and the United States — stood astride an exhausted Europe and a defeated
13
IJCS / RIÉC
Japan. This realignment of power gradually shifted the focus of Moscow's
foreign policy concerns, as a preoccupation with postwar American strength in
time became an active quest for global influence commensurate with its status
as the world's “other” superpower. The new challenges of a bipolar world
effected important changes in Canadian foreign policy as well. A fear of Soviet
Communism shared by French and English alike, and a heightened sense of
vulnerability in the age of air power and the nuclear bomb, transformed a
traditionally reticent nation into an active participant in the international
diplomacy of the Cold War.
The changed postwar context gave Canadian-Soviet relations new
significance. Each was a more prominent international player after 1945 than
before; each therefore had greater reason to take account of the other than
during the interwar period. To be sure, this development worked its effects
disproportionately. The Soviet Union obviously weighed more heavily in
Ottawa's calculations than Canada ever did in Moscow's. Yet weigh Canada
did — primarily, the record suggests, because of its proximity to the USSR's
principal rival, the United States. The U.S. in turn figured prominently in the
formulation of Canada's Soviet policy. The unique pressures that Canada faced
as a modest power sandwiched between a powerful neighbour and ally to the
south and a hostile Soviet Union to the north produced a distinctive approach
to East-West issues that did not go unnoticed in Moscow. Canadian-Soviet
relations after World War Two can thus be understood as one side of a larger
triangle, in which ties between Moscow and Ottawa were shaped by their
respective concerns with the most powerful actor in the postwar international
system.
This suggests a handy analytical framework for thinking about the
contemporary implications of Canadian-Soviet history. If changes in the
international system have determined the past significance of Canadian-Soviet
relations, it follows that conjecture about the future can most usefully be
focused on developments at this broader level. This argument will be
developed in the following narrative, which seeks to illuminate how a bipolar
world conditioned the postwar evolution of Canadian-Soviet ties. We will then
be in a position to consider how past tendencies in the bilateral relationship
might bear upon dealings between Canada and the former Soviet republics in a
post-Cold War environment.
III
America's “rise to globalism” in the latter part of this century posed a special
challenge for Canadians.7 Sharing a continent with the Americans had never
been easy, but as the United States emerged second to none in the postwar
world, and began to take on interests and responsibilities commensurate with
its awesome capabilities, the challenge assumed almost threatening
proportions. As early as the spring of 1942, a memorandum prepared for the
Under--Secretary of State for External Affairs raised the problem of
“American Imperialism and Canada” by describing how Washington's
wartime concerns had already led to encroachments on Canadian
sovereignty.8 This was the prism through which Canadian policy makers
14
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
viewed the breakdown of the Grand Alliance and the division of the globe
between two rival poles. Because Ottawa shared Washington's fears about
postwar Soviet intentions, there could be no debate as to where Canada stood
in the emerging East-West divide. Yet the need to concern itself as well with
the superpower on its southern doorstep made an indelible mark on Canada's
external policies after 1945, including Canadian-Soviet relations.
Canadian policy makers in the 1940s recognized that for a country of Canada's
size and strategic location, the worst of all possible postwar worlds would be a
return to the anarchy of great power unilateralism that had spawned two global
conflicts in the past quarter century. Canada therefore emerged from the
Second World War as a leading proponent of an alternate “liberal
internationalist” vision of world order, in which global peace and prosperity
would be promoted multilaterally through a network of international
organizations founded upon a robust United Nations.9 When Cold War
tensions quickly put paid to this ideal, Canada embraced a more limited
multilateral approach to security by undertaking a leading role in the creation
of NATO. As with the UN, a major draw of the Atlantic alliance was the
opportunity it gave Ottawa to deal with the Americans in company instead of
one-on-one. The attempt to steer Washington between the Scylla of
unilateralism (which might pose a danger to Canada's sovereignty) and the
Charybdis of renewed isolationism (which could dash Canada's hopes for
postwar stability) required more resources and influence than Ottawa alone
could bring to bear. A commitment to multilateralism, embodied in unflagging
support for NATO and the United Nations, thus became one of the principal
means by which Canada sought to resolve its security dilemmas in a bipolar
world.10
Participation in international institutions went some way toward alleviating
Canada's insecurities, but the hard facts of power still dictated that Canada's
freedom of manoeuvre in world affairs “would be inversely proportional to the
Cold War's intensity.”11 These circumstances gave Ottawa a powerful
incentive to play “honest broker” in the East-West arena, where status as a
loyal but non-threatening member of the western alliance and a reputation for
diplomatic objectivity and skill served Canada well.12 Although the United
Nations was the most visible forum for the practice of such
“middlepowermanship,” the same approach guided Canada's bilateral
dealings with the USSR.
Canada's postwar effort to play “middle power in Moscow” has been described
elsewhere.13 What needs to be emphasized here is the way in which an
evolving international setting conditioned that effort. While the abovementioned qualities gave Canada a distinctive presence on the world stage, its
relatively modest capabilities made it a promoter rather than an initiator of
East-West change. In the absence of goodwill in Moscow or Washington,
Ottawa's hands were tied. During the dark period of Cold War from the late
1940s to the death of Stalin in 1953, relations (or the relative lack thereof)
between Canada and the USSR were as cool as the international climate as a
whole. To be sure, the two sides had specific reasons for keeping one another at
arm's length. Indeed, revelations about a Soviet spy ring in Canada at the end of
15
IJCS / RIÉC
the war had resulted in, among other things, a mutual withdrawal of
ambassadors. It is nevertheless significant that despite Canada's special stake
in reduced East-West tensions, forward movement in the bilateral sphere had
to await a Soviet initiative in the mid-1950s, which in turn reflected a broader
warming trend among the great powers.
The trend in question was popularly known as the “spirit of Geneva,” where
the first summit between Soviet and Western leaders since 1945 took place in
the summer of 1955. The thaw spread to Canadian-Soviet relations when
Lester Pearson, Canada's Secretary of State for External Affairs, accepted an
invitation to visit the USSR that fall.14 With the way paved by the modest
rapprochement between the superpowers, Ottawa made the most of the
opportunity to advance its distinctive East-West agenda. Canadian officials
took the shifts in Soviet policy that had precipitated these developments more
seriously than their American counterparts, and sought to encourage further
progress by negotiating a trade agreement that granted the Soviets “most
favoured nation” status. During his talks in Moscow and the Crimea, Pearson
did his best to convince Soviet leaders of the West's commitment to detente.15
Hopes for substantial improvement in East-West and Canadian-Soviet
relations collapsed a year later, however, when Soviet troops brutally
suppressed a popular uprising in Hungary. Cold War tensions shot up, and
Canada's freedom of manoeuvre diminished accordingly.
More than a decade would pass before international conditions favoured a
rekindling of Canadian-Soviet ties. Emerging first in Europe in the late 1960s,
the new East-West detente reflected what one analyst has termed the
“maturation” of the bipolar world.16 By 1968, the United States was no longer
the colossus that had straddled the globe in 1945. Western economies
devastated by World War Two had long since recovered, and much of
Washington's postwar prestige had been squandered in the jungles of
Southeast Asia. The Soviet Union had in the meantime worked steadily to
achieve strategic parity with its “imperialist” rival — an accomplishment duly
codified in the various agreements that launched Soviet-American detente in
the early 1970s.17 The United States' painful adjustment to this relative decline
weighed heavily upon its northern neighbour. Many Canadians were horrified
by the drawn out spectacle of American over-extension in Vietnam, and
shocked and dismayed when the consequences of American retrenchment —
duties on imports and a new “get tough” attitude toward the allies — fell
squarely on their shoulders. It was a climate ripe for the Trudeau government's
call in 1970 for a “diversification” of Canadian foreign policy ties, an objective
packaged two years later as a quest for a “Third Option” to reduce (rather than
enhance or maintain) Canada's vulnerability to the United States. Improved
relations with Moscow were a logical result.19
Although these initiatives were presented as a departure from past Canadian
policies, Trudeau's diplomacy is better understood as an adaptation of methods
to fit the changing times.20 Canada's goals — reduced East--West tensions,
robust multilateral institutions, and a stable international order — remained
much the same as before. Yet the means to further them under “mature”
bipolarity obviously differed from those appropriate to the Cold War.21
16
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
Reaching out directly to Moscow — as Trudeau did through the Prime
Ministerial summits and the various bilateral agreements signed in 197122 —
fitted nicely with this broader pattern of adjustment. While Soviet-Canadian
rapprochement served specifically Canadian interests in such spheres as trade
and family reunification, Ottawa sought wherever possible to expand and
deepen the larger process of East-West accommodation, as evidenced, for
example, by its strong contribution to the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe.23 When Washington began to turn sour on detente during
the presidential election campaign of 1976, Ottawa stood fast in support of the
concept, thus further underscoring its special stake in the process.24 There
were limits to Canada's patience, however. As the decade drew to a close, the
Canadian government, too, became disillusioned with Moscow's behaviour,
and Soviet--Canadian detente collapsed when the USSR invaded Afghanistan
in December 1979.
The 1980s constitute something of an exception to the argument being
developed here. Contrary to the pattern described thus far, Canada was among
the last to exploit the new opportunities inherent in the world's dramatic
transition from “new Cold War” to renewed detente after 1985. Overriding
domestic priorities and other foreign policy concerns (the negotiation of free
trade with the United States) delayed the Mulroney government's embrace of
the Gorbachev revolution until 1989.25 This perhaps serves as a useful
reminder that broader global trends, while critical, were not always decisive in
the making of Canada's Soviet policy. Once Ottawa had acknowledged that the
“new thinking” in East-West relations was genuine, however, the standard
language and objectives of Canadian internationalism came to the fore, as
Mulroney undertook to “broker” the USSR's reintegration into the
international community by supporting Gorbachev's quest for a closer
association with the GATT (General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade) and the
G-7.26
IV
Like Canada, the Soviet Union's central concern in the postwar world was the
intimidating weight of American power. As the United States' principal
adversary, Soviet perspectives clearly differed from those of Washington's
northern ally, yet the shared preoccupation is as critical to an understanding of
Moscow's Canada policy as it is to an understanding of Ottawa's approach to
the USSR.
For Stalin's Russia, the awesome reality of America's postwar might assumed
truly threatening proportions in the spring of 1947, when U.S. Secretary of
State George Marshall announced a massive commitment to the
reconstruction of Europe. The Soviets perceived this projection of American
economic influence as a severe challenge to their own European interests, and
responded with a series of moves that triggered the spiral of tensions and
mutual misperceptions that hardened and militarized the East-West divide.27
The Kremlin's growing concern with the threat from “U.S. imperialism” led to
a new awareness of Canada, which merited consideration as a leading victim of
Washington's rapacious designs.28 Such views had limited policy relevance,
17
IJCS / RIÉC
however, as the bunker mentality that characterized Stalin's last years “left
little room for meaningful diplomacy,” and certainly none where Canada was
concerned.29
This picture changed considerably under Stalin's successors. Nikita
Khrushchev shared — indeed, probably surpassed — Stalin's preoccupation
with the United States, but unlike the late dictator, the new Soviet leader had
the will and the resources to actively engage his imperialist rival in an
ambitious contest for influence in the world arena. There was a schizophrenic
quality to Khrushchev's approach. On the one hand, he sought the benefits of
genuine East-West accommodation — increased trade, enhanced security, and
international recognition commensurate with his country's global designs. At
the same time, his belief in the inevitable triumph of the socialist system led
him to treat his adversaries with reckless contempt, shamelessly attempting to
bully and divide the United States and its allies even as he pursued improved
relations. Both tendencies were evident in the Canadian-Soviet
rapprochement that coincided with the “spirit of Geneva.” Khrushchev and his
colleagues treated Lester Pearson with a level of respect and good will clearly
designed to further their desire for “peaceful coexistence,” yet all the while
engaged in blatant attempts to sow discord between Canada and the United
States.30
Khrushchev's colourful bluff and bluster failed to pay off. He tried to parley the
very limited nuclear deterrent capability that the USSR had acquired by the
late 1950s and early 1960s into far--reaching geopolitical gains at the
Americans' expense. His humiliating retreat from the Cuban missile crisis
exposed the folly of this approach and contributed to his eventual downfall in
October 1964. The men who replaced him — a bland collection of Party
bureaucrats led by Leonid Brezhnev — employed different tactics in the
international arena, but their objectives remained much the same: as “number
two” in a bipolar world, they sought to equal and eventually surpass “number
one,” the United States. In addition to a more even diplomatic temperament,
the new Soviet leadership enjoyed two critical advantages over Khrushchev in
its pursuit of this goal. The first was the steady expansion of Soviet military
power that culminated in the achievement of strategic parity with the United
States by the early 1970s. The second was the gradual erosion of American
power symbolized by the re-emergence of Europe and Japan and by the
ongoing debacle in Vietnam. Together, these trends marked a fundamental
shift in what Brezhnev and his associates termed the “global correlation of
forces,” a development that portended a far-reaching transformation of the
international system in favour of the USSR.31 Canada's significance derived
from its place in this larger process. As a close U.S. ally, the disaffection with
Washington that Ottawa manifested in the strategy of “diversification” and the
“Third Option” policy was monitored and welcomed by Soviet observers as a
telling “barometer” of America's general decline.32 In Moscow's view, the
cultivation of Soviet-Canadian ties furthered these positive shifts in the
international climate by affirming and consolidating the USSR's emergence as
the “other” superpower in world politics.33
18
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
The collapse of detente following the invasion of Afghanistan shattered the
Kremlin's confident assessment of East-West relations after parity, and
contributed in no small measure to the emergence of “new thinking” in Soviet
foreign policy under Gorbachev. Brezhnev's arrogant unilateralism had
ultimately proved counterproductive. Instead of managing a peaceful
transition from “Pax Americana” to a world of co-equal superpowers, he
bequeathed his successors an empire under seige before a re-armed and reinvigorated United States. The reform-minded leadership that came to power
in 1985 set out to rectify this state of affairs by abandoning Moscow's
longstanding “zero-sum” view of world politics in favour of new, cooperative
approaches that emphasized the “interdependence” of nations and the need for
“mutual” security.34 Despite its tone of selfless enlightenment, however, the
“new thinking” was very much “a diplomacy of decline,”35 demonstrating
Gorbachev's awareness that the deteriorating Soviet economy could no longer
afford to take part in the traditional superpower competition.
Once Ottawa belatedly recognized Gorbachev's desire for a genuine
transformation of East-West relations, its participation was welcomed in
Moscow as a means to further this ambitious end. During the GorbachevMulroney summits of 1989 and 1990, Soviet officials hailed Canada's tradition
of “constructive internationalism” (alluding to the role that Ottawa could, and
did, play in promoting Moscow's closer association with key institutions such
as the GATT and the G-7), and made it clear that Canada's close ties with the
United States made it an especially valued interlocutor in East-West affairs.
Despite significant changes in the style and the substance of Soviet foreign
policy under Gorbachev, the value of ties with Canada remained a function of
Soviet objectives with respect to the international system, and of Canada's
established niche in that system as a well-connected practitioner of
accommodative diplomacy.
V
The contemporary relevance of the preceding analysis hinges on how we
characterize current trends in world politics. Although some analysts have
contended that the end of the Cold War heralds a return to the familiar
dynamics of pre-1939 multipolarity,37 others have pointed out that much of
what goes on in the world today is without historical precedent. Joseph Nye,
for example, has warned against trying to apply “traditional metaphors with
their mechanical polarities” to a post--Cold War order that is sui generis. That
order, he suggests, is best conceived in terms of three layers: a unipolar
military layer, where the U.S. stands preponderant; a tripolar economic layer,
where the U.S. shares global leadership with Japan and the European
Community; and a third layer of “transnational interdependence,” where a
growing multitude of contemporary global issues defy categorization or
resolution in accordance with conventional notions of power. How might the
comparatively stable influence of bipolarity on the evolution of SovietCanadian relations shed light on developments in a world of such complexity?
One critical link between past, present and future is the continuing centrality of
the United States. This is especially clear when the forces shaping
19
IJCS / RIÉC
contemporary Canadian policy are considered. On the one hand, the end of the
Cold War has been hailed as a special opportunity for Canada. A world freed
from the constraints of East-West divisions, so the argument goes, will be one
in which Canada's expertise in multilateral diplomacy and the international
institutions in which it is practiced can both flourish.40 This gives Canada a
special stake in seeing the former republics of the USSR securely integrated
into an open and prosperous new order where the liberal ideal of the “rule of
law” can displace the military balance of terror as the anchor of global
stability.41 As in the earlier postwar era, however, it is recognized that a
country of Canada's modest capabilities cannot realize such a vision on its
own. In three major speeches on the role of the West in post-Soviet change,
then Prime Minister Mulroney emphasized the United States' unique
reponsibilities in this sphere, and expressed the broader view that “without the
active and constructive engagement of the U.S., the only superpower, in
international affairs, the world suffers from uncertainty, hesitation and
drift.”42 Just as Canada's postwar commitment to liberal internationalism
emerged as a response, in part, to the country's delicate situation in the shadow
of American power, so today the realization of Canada's post-Cold War
objectives depends on the continued and enlightened exercise of that power.
Canada's part in the post-Soviet future is thus inextricably caught up in
Washington's ongoing debate between the extremes of “unbridled
internationalism” and “constricted isolationism.”43 Despite profound recent
international change, then, the continuing close relationship between
Canadian means and ends, on the one hand, and American power, on the other,
suggests that an appreciation of the triangular character of Canada's dealings
with the former USSR remains relevant in the post-Soviet era.
Speculation about the former republics of the USSR is more difficult. Chaotic
conditions and the incredible pace of change there preclude tidy projections.
Certain departures from past policies nevertheless seem likely. Since the
Soviet Union's postwar interest in Canada was largely a function of the USSR's
emergence as a powerful, global player in the international arena, the way that
fifteen fledgling successor states approach their dealings with Canada will
obviously differ from the overtures of the Soviet era. Elements of continuity
can be expected as well, however, particularly in the behaviour of Russia.
While the Kremlin's post-Communist leadership has explicitly rejected the
“confrontational” approaches of its “totalitarian” past, Russia remains a selfavowed “great power” with wide-ranging interests that will invariably loom
large on Canada's post-Cold War horizon.44 The warm talk of neighbourliness
and cooperation at the two Russo-Canadian summits of 1992 attests to
Ottawa's continued importance in Moscow's effort to forge new links to the
advanced industrialized world.45 The key question for the future is whether the
Russian reformers who support this comparatively benign orientation towards
the West can withstand the assaults of their increasingly restive conservative
critics.46
The pattern of Canada's future dealings with the other successor republics is
less easily discerned. The past is a limited guide to the behaviour of a group of
states which, with the exception of the Baltics, have not known independence
in the modern era. Several probabilities stand out, however. Canada's
20
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
reputation as an “honest broker” is sure to remain an important factor in the
evolution of these new bilateral relationships. To the extent that Ukraine,
Belarus, and the non-Slavic republics seek closer integration with the
international community, they, like Russia, will have cause to develop their
ties with a well-connected member of the G-7 like Canada.
Canada's ethnic make-up is certain to figure prominently in this process,
constituting something of a mixed blessing. As noted earlier, the fact that one
in ten Canadians traces their family roots to behind the former Iron Curtain
should make it possible for Canada to cultivate a strong and fruitful presence in
that part of the world. At the same time, the conflicting demands of Canadian
Ukrainians, Lithuanians, Latvians, and others seem destined to be an even
greater source of difficulty in the making of Ottawa's post-Soviet policies than
they were in the Soviet era. These domestic circumstances made Ottawa the
first Western country to extend recognition to Ukraine, and later put Canada at
odds with its G-7 partners when it extended new credits to Kiev before a
general agreement was reached on former Soviet debts.47 That Ukraine should
receive special attention is certainly understandable, as is a recent
Parliamentary Report's assertion that at a time of fiscal restraint, Ottawa's
limited resources should be directed toward those post-Soviet states (namely
Ukraine and the three Baltic countries) with which Canadians share a
distinctive bond.48 As tensions between the former Soviet republics mount,
however, (which seems most likely, given the pattern of developments since
the collapse of the USSR), Canadian policy makers will find it increasingly
difficult to reconcile the country's national interest in regional stability with
the particularistic demands of their domestic constituents.
Notes
*
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Revised version of a paper presented at the Canadian Association of Slavists Annual
Meeting, Charlottetown, June 1992. The author is grateful to Larry Black and Roger Sarty
for helpful suggestions, and to the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council and the
Canadian Donner Foundation for financial support.
See especially Ernest R. May, “Lessons” of the Past: The Use and Misuse of History in
American Foreign Policy (London: Oxford University Press, 1973); Robert Jervis,
Perception and Misperception in International Politics (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1976), pp. 217-282; Richard E. Neustadt and Ernest R. May, Thinking in Time: The
Uses of History for Decision Makers (New York: The Free Press, 1986).
Walter Laqueur, Russia and Germany: A Century of Conflict (Boston: Little, Brown and
Company, 1965); Michael J. Sodaro, Moscow, Germany and the West from Khrushchev to
Gorbachev (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1990).
George F. Kennan, The Decline of Bismark's European Order: Franco-Russian Relations,
1875--1890 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979); __________, The Fateful
Alliance: France, Russia, and the Coming of the First World War (New York: Pantheon,
1984); Robert Legvold, “France and Soviet Policy” in Herbert J. Ellison, ed., Soviet Policy
Toward Western Europe (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 1983);
Suzanne Crow, “Russian Federation Faces Foreign Policy Dilemmas,” RFE/RL Research
Report vol. 1, no. 10 (6 March 1992), p. 17.
John Lewis Gaddis, Russia, the Soviet Union, and the United States: An Interpretive History
(New York: 1978).
David Davies, “The Pre-1917 Roots of Canadian-Soviet Relations,” Canadian Historical
Review, vol. 70, no. 2 (June 1989), pp. 180-205; J.L. Black, “The View from Imperial
Russia,” unpublished manuscript, 1990.
21
IJCS / RIÉC
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
22
Leigh Sarty, “A Middle Power in Moscow: Canada and the Soviet Union from Khrushchev
to Gorbachev,” Queen's Quarterly, vol. 98, no. 3 (Fall 1991), pp. 554-574. Technically
speaking, Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin's October 1971 visit to Canada constitutes a
fourth but less noteworthy encounter, since it merely served to maintain the bilateral
momentum established by Trudeau's goundbreaking visit to the USSR that spring.
Stephen E. Ambrose, Rise to Globalism: American Foreign Policy 1938-1970 (Baltimore:
Penguin Books Inc., 1971).
Cited in Denis Smith, Diplomacy of Fear: Canada and the Cold War 1941-1948 (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1988), pp. 19-20.
The best account is John Holmes, The Shaping of Peace: Canada and the Search for World
Order 1943-1957, 2 vols. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1979 and 1982); good
summaries include Michael Tucker, Canadian Foreign Policy: Contemporary Issues and
Themes (Toronto: McGraw-Hill Ryerson Ltd., 1980), pp. 1-9; and Michael K. Hawes,
Principal Power, Middle Power, Or Satellite? (Toronto: York University Research
Programme in Strategic Studies, 1984), pp. 3-8. See also Peter Gellman, “Lester B. Pearson,
collective security, and the world order tradition of Canadian foreign policy,” International
Journal, vol. 44 (Winter 1988-89), pp. 68-101.
See Escott Reid, Time of Fear and Hope: The Making of the North Atlantic Treaty 19471949 (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1977) and James Eayrs, In Defence of Canada, vol.
4: Growing Up Allied (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1980).
Larry D. Collins, “Canadian-Soviet Relations During the Cold War” in Aloysius Balawyder,
ed., Canadian-Soviet Relations 1939-1980 (Oakville, Ont.: Mosaic Press, 1981), p. 45,
paraphrasing an influential memorandum by Escott Reid, then assistant Under-secretary of
State in the Department of External Affairs, titled, “The United States and the Soviet Union:
A Study of the Possibility of War and Some of the Implications for Canadian Policy,” 30
August 1947.
Tucker, Canadian Foreign Policy, pp. 7-9.
Sarty, “Middle Power in Moscow.”
The visit is described in John English, The Worldly Years: The Life of Lester Pearson, 19491972 (Toronto: Alfred A. Knopf Canada, 1992), pp. 96-105; John Watkins, Moscow
Despatches: Inside Cold War Russia. Eds. Dean Beeby and William Kaplan (Toronto:
James Lorimer and Company, 1987), pp. 122-127; and Sarty, “Middle Power in Moscow,”
pp. 558-561. Pearson's own account can be found in his memoirs, Mike: The Memoirs of the
Right Honourable Lester Pearson, vol. 2, 1948-1957 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1973), pp. 204-211.
Official contemporary accounts of the meetings can be found in the National Archives of
Canada, Record Group [RG] 25 86--87/414, Box 460, file 12278-40, pts. 3-4, and Pearson
Papers, Manuscript Group [MG] 26, N1, vol. 68.
Kenneth N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics (New York: Random House, 1979), p.
203.
For a detailed account of Soviet-American developments in this period see Raymond L.
Garthoff, Detente and Confrontation: American-Soviet Relations from Nixon to Reagan
(Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1985).
Foreign Policy for Canadians (Ottawa: Queen's Printer for Canada, 1970); Mitchell Sharp,
“Canada-U.S. Relations: Options for the Future,” International Perspectives (Special Issue:
Autumn 1972).
On the development of bilateral relations in the 1970s, see Leigh Sarty, “`A Handshake
Across the Pole': Soviet-Canadian Relations During the Era of Detente,” paper presented at
the Conference on Canadian-Soviet Relations, Elora, Ontario, August 1987.
This point is made most convincingly by Tucker, Canadian Foreign Policy, pp. 9-12.
For an excellent recent discussion of the broad continuities in Canadian foreign policy
objectives see Andrew F. Cooper, “Multilateral Leadership: The Changing Dynamics of
Canadian Foreign Policy” in John English and Norman Hillmer, eds., Making a Difference?
Canada's Foreign Policy in a Changing World Order (Toronto: Lester Publishing Ltd.,
1992), pp. 200-221.
See David Farr, “Prime Minister Trudeau's Opening to the Soviet Union, 1971” in J.L. Black
and Norman Hillmer, eds., Nearly Neighbours: Canada and the Soviet Union from Cold War
to Detente and Beyond (Kingston: Ronald P. Frye and Company, 1989), pp. 102-118.
Lessons of the Past? Reflections on the History of
Canadian-Soviet Relations
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
Robert Spencer, ed., Canada and the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe
(Toronto: Centre for International Studies, 1984).
Sarty, “`A Handshake Across the Pole'.”
For a detailed discussion see Sarty, “Detente, Cold War and Perestroika: Canadian-Soviet
Relations Since 1980,” Centre for Canadian-Soviet Studies Occasional Paper No. 1
(Carleton University, October 1991), pp. 26--35.
The Financial Post, 21 November 1989, p. 1; The Globe and Mail, 25 November 1989, p.
D6.
Adam B. Ulam, Expansion and Coexistence: The History of Soviet Foreign Policy, 19171967 (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1968), pp. 447--455; William Taubman, Stalin's
American Policy (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1982), pp. 172--192; Vojtech
Mastny, “Stalin and the Militarization of the Cold War,” International Security, vol. 9, no. 3
(Winter 1984-85).
See especially S. Shcherbatykh, Kanada — Votchina Amerikanskogo Imperializma
[Canada — Fiefdom of American Imperialism] (Moscow: Politizdat, 1951), and V.V.
Sushchenko, Ekspansiia Amerikanskogo Imperializma v Kanade Posle Vtoroi Mirovoi
Voiny [The Expansion of American Imperialism in Canada After the Second World War]
(Moscow: Izdatel'stvo Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1953). For a Western survey of Soviet
materials on Canada during this period see J.L. Black, “The Stalinist Image of Canada: The
Cominform and Soviet Press, 1947-1955,” Labour/ Le Travail 21 (Spring 1988), pp. 153171.
The quoted phrase is from Paul Marantz, “Prelude to Detente: Doctrinal Change Under
Khrushchev,” International Studies Quarterly, vol. 19, no. 4 (December 1975), p. 522. On
the extremely limited character of Canadian-Soviet contacts during this period, see John W.
Holmes, “Moscow 1947-1948: Reflections on the Origins of My Cold War” in Black and
Hillmer, eds., Nearly Neighbours, pp. 41-55; Watkins, Moscow Despatches; and Robert
A.D. Ford, Our Man in Moscow: A Diplomat's Reflections on the Soviet Union (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1989).
See the documents cited above, footnote 15.
See especially R. Judson Mitchell, “A New Brezhnev Doctrine: The Restructuring of
International Relations,” World Politics, vol. 30, no. 3 (April 1978); and __________, The
Ideology of a Superpower: Contemporary Soviet Doctrine on International Relations
(Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, 1982).
The term “barometer” was employed by T.V. Lavrovskaia, Severoamerikanskii Uzel
Mezhimperialisticheskikh Protivorechii (Moscow: Znanie, 1978), p. 68. For a more detailed
discussion of this point see Leigh Sarty, “Soviet Policy Toward Canada, 1945-1980,” Ph.D.
dissertation, Columbia University, 1991, p. 181ff.
Ibid.
For an excellent summary of these developments, see Robert Legvold, “The Revolution in
Soviet Foreign Policy,” Foreign Affairs, vol. 68, no. 1 (1988/89), pp. 82-98.
Stephen Sestanovich, “Gorbachev's Foreign Policy: A Diplomacy of Decline,” Problems of
Communism, vol. 37, no. 1 (January/February 1988), pp. 1-15.
The Globe and Mail, 16 May 1990, p. A4; “Gorbachev, Mulroney Hold Joint Press
Conference,” TASS International Service in Russian, 1620 GMT, 31 May 1990, Foreign
Broadcast Information Service [FBIS] Daily Report: Soviet Union, FBIS-SOV-90-107, 4
June 1990, p. 14.
John J. Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War,”
International Security, vol. 15, no. 1 (Summer 1990), pp. 5-56.
Robert Jervis, “The Future of World Politics: Will It Resemble the Past?,” International
Security, vol. 16, no. 3 (Winter 1991/92), esp. pp. 39-55.
Joseph S. Nye, Jr., “What New World Order?,” Foreign Affairs, vol. 71, no. 2 (Spring 1992),
p. 88. See also Janice Gross Stein, “Living With Uncertainty: Canada and the Architecture of
the New World Order,” International Journal, vol. 48, no. 3 (Summer 1992), pp. 614-626.
See, for example, Policy Planning Staff, Foreign Policy Themes and Priorities: 1991-92
Update (Ottawa: External Affairs and International Trade Canada, December 1991);
Bernard Wood, A Time of Hope and Fear: A New World Order and a New Canada
(Canadian Institute for International Peace and Security: Director's Annual Statement,
January 1992).
23
IJCS / RIÉC
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
24
The quoted phrase figures prominently in the Policy Planning Staff document cited above.
See also Barbara McDougall, “Meeting the Challenge of the New World Order,”
International Journal, vol. 48, no. 3 (Summer 1992), pp. 463-478, and Stein, “Living With
Uncertainty,” p. 627.
“Notes for an Address by Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, Johns Hopkins University,
Baltimore, Maryland, 21 May 1992,” Ottawa, Office of the Prime Minister, p. 2. See also
“Notes for an Address by Prime Minister Brian Mulroney On the Occasion of the Centennial
Anniversary Convocation, Stanford University, 29 September 1991,” Ottawa, Office of the
Prime Minister, and “Notes for an Address by Prime Minister Brian Mulroney to the
Kennedy School of Government, 10 December 1992,” Ottawa, Office of the Prime Minister.
Robert J. Art, “A Defensible Defense: America's Grand Strategy After the Cold War,”
International Security, vol. 15, no. 4 (Spring 1991), p. 5. See also Brad Roberts, ed., U.S.
Foreign Policy After the Cold War (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1992).
Andrei Kozyrev, “Russia: A Chance for Survival,” Foreign Affairs, vol. 71, no. 2 (Spring
1992), pp. 1-16.
“Yeltsin Meets Canadian Prime Minister” and “Joint Declaration Signed,” TASS
International Service in Russian, 2 Feb 92, FBIS-SOV-92-022, 3 February 1992, pp. 30-31;
“Canada and Russia Sign Agreements,” Ottawa, Office of the Prime Minister, 19 June 1992;
“Standing Ovations as the Yeltsin Bandwagon Rolls into Canada,” New York Times, 20 June
1992.
See, for example, Alexander Rahr, “`Atlanticists' versus ‘Eurasians’ in Russian Foreign
Policy,” RFE/RL Research Report, vol. 1, no. 22 (29 May 1992); Suzanne Crow, “Russia
Debates Its National Interests,” RFE/RL Research Report, vol. 1., no. 28 (10 July 1992).
“Ukraine is Getting Canadian Credits: After Assurances on Debts, Ottawa Breaks with Plan
of Industrial Powers,” The New York Times, 23 February 1992.
House of Commons, Standing Committee on External Affairs and International Trade,
Strategic Choices: Canadian Policy Toward the New Republics of the Former Soviet Union
(Ottawa: Supply and Services Canada, June 1992), pp. 5, 43-44.
Kim Richard Nossal
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
Abstract
The Canadian government under Brian Mulroney was one of the last western
governments to abandon a harsh anti-Soviet line after Mikhail S. Gorbachev
came to power. While there was some improvement in the Soviet-Canadian
relationship after 1985, it took fully four years for the Canadian government to
shift its policy and even, then, Canadian policy in the last two years of the
existence of the USSR was marked by uncertainty and hesitation. This paper
surveys the evolution of Canadian policy in the last six years of the Soviet
Union, and argues that one of the key reasons for the Canadian government's
circumspection during this period was the anti-Sovietism of the Mulroney
government, an antipathy that was deeply grounded in domestic Canadian
politics.
Résumé
Le gouvernement canadien de Brian Mulroney a été l'un des derniers
gouvernements occidentaux à abandonner sa dure attitude antisoviétique une
fois que Mikhaïl S. Gorbatchev parvint au pouvoir. Quoique les relations
canado-soviétiques virent après 1985 quelques améliorations, plus de quatre
ans passèrent avant que le gouvernement canadien ne change sa politique, et
même alors, la politique canadienne durant les deux dernières années de
l'existence de l'Union soviétique fut marquée d'incertitude et d'hésitation.
L'article examine l'évolution de la politique canadienne des six dernières
années de l'Union soviétique et affirme que l'une des raisons principales
derrière la circonspection du gouvernement canadien durant cette période a
été l'antisoviétisme du gouvernement Mulroney, un sentiment d'antipathie qui
était bien enraciné dans les politiques intérieures du Canada.
In the six and a half years between the time that Mikhail S. Gorbachev assumed
power in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in March 1985 and the formal
end of the USSR on Christmas Day 1991, all western states had to confront a
dilemma of considerable proportions. One the one hand, western governments
were faced with evidence that the new Soviet leader was, as Lawrence Martin
put it, “breaking with history,”1 and that the “new thinking” of the new
leadership in Moscow was producing changes of great magnitude in both
domestic Soviet politics and in the international realm. On the other hand, the
foreign and defence policies of western governments were organized around
the notion of the USSR as the central threat to security. All western countries,
therefore, were faced with a comparable problem of adjusting their policies to
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
fit a changing reality whose broad contours remained fundamentally elusive
until the very end, in December 1991.
The purpose of this paper is to survey how the Canadian government of Brian
Mulroney responded to the profound changes in Soviet politics and foreign
policy during this period. This article will show that the evolution of Canadian
policy towards the USSR in this period of collapse was often tortuous and
inconsistent. While relations improved steadily,2 the Mulroney government
was one of the last western governments to abandon an attachment to the
notion that the USSR under Gorbachev still represented the central threat to
Canadian security. This caused Canadian policy to lag considerably behind
that of other western countries, and it was not until the middle of 1989 that the
Canadian government officially abandoned the caution and prudence it had
embraced after Gorbachev's rise to power. Even so, the policy of support
adopted after 1989, it will be argued, was ambiguous and not always
wholehearted. And while there are a number of possible explanations for this
circumspection, one stands out: the kind of anti-Sovietism that Brian
Mulroney and his senior ministers brought with them to power in 1984 made it
especially difficult to embrace a change of attitude.
Prudence and Caution: March 1985 to November 1989
In the four years after Mikhail S. Gorbachev became the General Secretary of
the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in March 1985, the Canadian
government pursued a fundamentally prudential and cautious policy towards
the USSR. During this period, there were two distinct lines of development in
the Canadian-Soviet relationship, both of which, however, were evolving at
very different rates.
On the one hand, these years saw a general warming trend in East-West
relations. In particular, there was a diminution of the tensions caused by events
in the early 1980s — beginning in December 1979 with what Canada's
ambassador to Moscow at the time, Robert Ford, termed the “Afghan
blunder,”3 and exacerbated by the Soviet role in the imposition of martial law
in Poland in December 1981, and the shooting down of Korean Air Lines flight
007 by a Soviet fighter in September 1983. Needless to say, the tensions in the
broader East-West relationship had been mirrored in the Canada-Soviet
relationship as well. Paradoxically, this warming trend had been triggered by
the vituperative and bellicose aftermath of the Soviet shooting down of Korean
Air Lines flight KAL 007. And while the warming trend had begun haltingly in
the winter of 1983-84, it accelerated greatly after Gorbachev assumed power
in March 1985.
The warming trend was felt in a number of different areas of the bilateral
relationship. It could be seen, for example, in official contacts: the
revitalization of the Canada-USSR Mixed Economic Commission, the
exchange of visits at the foreign ministerial level in 1985 and 1986, and the
intimation in early 1987 that Mulroney had decided to accept a standing
invitation from Mikhail Gorbachev to pay an official visit to the USSR.4 It
could be seen in the emerging optimism about the broader East-West
relationship that accompanied the multilateral efforts, particularly in 1988 and
26
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
1989, to evolve new confidence-building measures. It could be seen in nascent
co-operation in a range of activities: joint activities in space and joint efforts in
environmental protection.5 Likewise, the response in both Canada and the
USSR to the Armenian earthquake in December 1988 was another symbolic
indicator. As Clark was to put it later,6 “the prejudices of decades fell away like
autumn leaves” as Canadians and Soviets cooperated to send aid to Armenia:
the Canadian government, the Armenian community in Canada, and many
other Canadians besides, collected food, supplies and money which was sent to
the Red Cross, donated directly to the Soviet embassy in Ottawa, or ferried to
the USSR by Soviet military transport planes.
The new warming trend was also evident in Ottawa's encouragement of Arctic
cooperation.7 For example, the Canada-USSR Arctic Science Exchange
Program sought to match Canadian Arctic technology with Soviet needs.8 This
cooperation also extended to the non-governmental level, including the
approval of a trans-Arctic skiing expedition.9 More significantly, this
cooperation resulted in the participation of Yuit from the Soviet Union at an
Inuit Circumpolar Conference in 1989.10
The improvement in the relationship over this period can be seen most clearly,
however, in the growing commercial relations between Canada and the USSR.
By 1989, numerous Canadian firms had begun joint ventures in the USSR,
including plans for the opening of a McDonald's restaurant in Moscow by the
company's Canadian subsidiary.11 More importantly, as Carl McMillan has
reminded us, it was the private sector rather than the government in Ottawa
which was driving much of this interest in an expanded commercial
relationship.12
Ironically, it was over this period of increased private activity that bilateral
trade between the two countries, dominated by state contracts for wheat,
steadily decreased in importance. Historically, Canadian trade with the USSR
had been dominated by large (and highly profitable) grain sales; indeed, the
Soviet Union purchased fully one-quarter of Canada's wheat production over
the course of the 1980s. This facet of the relationship had always been
dominated by government-to-government links, particularly the Canadian
Wheat Board. Yet in the late 1980s, Canadian grain sales to the USSR declined
steadily, partly as a result of good crops in the Soviet Union in the middle of the
decade, and partly as a consequence of renewed Soviet efforts to attain selfsufficiency in grains.13
On the other hand, at the same time as these warming trends, the SovietCanadian relationship continued to be marked by elements of conflict — even
as both sides were working hard at increasing cooperation. There were a
number of such juxtapositions of conflict and cooperation. For example,
shortly after Eduard Shevardnadze, the Soviet foreign minister, visited Canada
from 30 September to 3 October 1986 — restoring a number of links broken
after the invasion of Afghanistan — the Canadian government revealed that
the Department of External Affairs had given asylum in Canada to five Red
Army deserters who had been captured by Afghani mujahideen. Clark
acknowledged that there was some risk that this would harm relations with the
USSR, but he admitted candidly “that was among the factors we considered
27
IJCS / RIÉC
when we took the decision, and we decided it was more important for us to take
this action.”14
Likewise, the expulsion of Soviet officials in June 1988 occurred at the very
time that the Canadian ambassador in Moscow, Vernon Turner, was trying to
arrange a trip by Mulroney to the Soviet Union. That crisis was precipitated
when Clark announced to Parliament on 22 June that a week earlier seven
Soviet officials in Canada had been expelled, and that a further ten had been
barred from re-entering Canada. The USSR had quietly moved to comply with
the expulsion order when it was issued on 15 June, but when Clark went public
with the charge that the seventeen Soviet officials were engaged in espionage,
the Soviet government accused Canada of perpetuating “Cold War”
attitudes.15 Moscow pursued a tit-for-tat strategy, expelling five Canadian
diplomats, also on charges of spying and declaring a number more as persona
non grata. For good measure, the Soviets also withdrew all locally-engaged
staff from the Canadian embassy in Moscow. This prompted the Canadian
government to expel the Soviet military attaché, declare another Soviet official
persona non grata, and reduce by three the number of Soviets who could be
assigned to Canada.16
Unlike the defection of Igor Gouzenko to Canada in 1945, which had a
dramatic and long-lasting impact on the Canada-USSR relationship, the spy
expulsions of 1988 had little longer-term effect on the overall relationship: by
27 June, Clark was meeting with the Soviet ambassador, Alexei Rodionov, to
call a halt to the expulsions; by September, he had agreed with Shevardnadze
to “put the events of June behind us.”17 But this episode did reveal that the
government in Ottawa still tended to see the USSR in fundamentally negative
terms. Indeed, over this period, the Mulroney government demonstrated what
Lenard J. Cohen, among others, has characterized as “considerable caution” in
its approach to the changes underway in the USSR.18 In particular, Progressive
Conservative ministers, who had carried into office fundamentally negative
views of the USSR and its relationship to Canada in September 1984,19
appeared reluctant to reassess them.20
The clearest evidence of this tendency was the tabling by the Mulroney
government of a new white paper on defence on 5 June 1987.21 As a number of
commentators have noted,22 this white paper embraced a perspective on
defence that was unabashed in its Cold War assumptions about the aims of the
USSR in world politics (even though, it should be noted, the paper did not use
the words “Cold War”). The white paper bristled with forensic pictures of
Soviet weapons systems, but, as James Eayrs noted caustically, “Its graphics
are spiffy. But its polemics are “iffy.”23 The white paper was nothing if not
forthright in asserting the nature of the security threat faced by Canada: “It is a
fact, not a matter of interpretation, that the West is faced with an ideological,
political and economic adversary whose explicit long-term aim is to mould the
world in its own image.”24
How do we explain the appearance of such a deep anti-Soviet sentiment in a
government document published two years after the appearance of Gorbachev
and “new thinking”? One explanation is that the anti-Soviet rhetoric was
largely the consequence of inertia. In other words, it took over two years
28
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
between the time that the newly-elected Mulroney government ordered a
defence review and the final appearance of the white paper in the summer of
1987. As various drafts of the white paper made their way through Ottawa's
bureaucratic and ministerial policy labyrinths over that two-year period, it
proved too politically difficult to change the basic tenor of the white paper as
external realities changed dramatically. The result was that the finished
product continued to sound more appropriate for the East-West relationship as
it existed in 1984 or 1985 — which is when the first drafts emerged, reflecting
the dominant thinking in the Department of National Defence in the waning
months of the pre-Gorbachev regimes of Yuri Andropov and Konstantin
Chernenko.
But it can also be argued that the anti-Soviet focus of the 1987 defence white
paper reflected, even if inchoately, how cabinet ministers continued to think
about the nature of the Soviet Union, even in the face of mounting evidence
that the Gorbachev regime was in the process of changing the Soviet
orientation towards the international system. Thus, throughout 1987 and 1988,
members of the Canadian government were repeatedly expressing their
skepticism at what was happening in the USSR, and particularly the need to
maintain a vigilant attitude.
This was evident from the very outset of the Gorbachev era. For example,
when in April 1985 the USSR called for the international community to match
Moscow's announced freeze of intermediate-range nuclear weapons, Canada,
following the lead of both Britain and the United States, dismissed the call as a
propaganda ploy, “clearly designed to influence western public opinion.”25
Likewise, when Gorbachev proposed in October 1987 that the Arctic region be
considered a “zone of peace,” Clark's initial response was one of considerable
skepticism.26
As common a response was the stated concern to remain strong and vigilant in
the face of apparent changes in the USSR. For example, in 1987, the finance
minister, Michael Wilson, was still accepting invitations to attend the annual
rally held in Toronto on 23 August, the anniversary of the Nazi-Soviet nonaggression pact of 1939, to commemorate International Black Ribbon Day. On
that (avowedly anti-Soviet) occasion, he was want to remind the 4,000 people
gathered in front of Toronto's City Hall that despite the changes in the USSR,
Canada and western countries should be “ever vigilant that there is no slipping
backwards.”27 A year later, speaking in the middle of the 1988 election
campaign, Clark again stressed the need to remain strong. He reminded his
listeners that the Reagan-Gorbachev Intermediate Nuclear Forces agreement
of December 1987 “did not simply materialize from thin air. It was not a
unilateral gesture of good will by a new leadership in the Soviet Union,
anxious to demonstrate its new persona to the West....”28 Rather, he argued,
western strength and unity prompted the Soviet leadership to negotiate: after
all, he said, “History has taught us before that no one negotiates successfully
from weakness,” reflecting a theme that had been sounded by Mulroney as
early as October 1983.29
Such attitudes on the part of ministers persisted well into 1989. An illustrative
example was a speech on the East-West relationship delivered by Clark at the
29
IJCS / RIÉC
University of Calgary on 13 January 1989. While the speech began by lauding
the positive developments of the Gorbachev era, Clark very quickly reminded
his listeners of the “other faces” of the Soviet Union: the harassment of
religious groups such as Ukrainian Catholics, the exile of Andrey Sakharov to
Gorky, the invasion of Afghanistan, the domination of Eastern Europe.
Repeating his refrain that negotiating from weakness cannot succeed, Clark
concluded that:
We must be prudent but imaginative. To that end we ... are constantly
assessing our relations with the Soviet Union to determine how our
relations can best be expanded and enriched. But prudence suggests
that we avoid euphoria regarding Soviet intentions and measure
accomplishments not statements. Prudence demands that we
examine each new Soviet proposal with a careful eye....30
Likewise, as late as November 1989, the associate minister of national
defence, Mary Collins, was declaring that “The extraordinary changes over the
past five years remind us that we should expect the unexpected. If we are wise
we will hedge our bets and proceed with caution.”31
But by early 1989, there were numerous critics in Canada pointing out the
degree to which the Mulroney government was failing to keep in step with the
changes occurring in the USSR. As The Globe and Mail suggested in the
aftermath of Clark's January 1989 speech, “Since Mikhail Gorbachev became
Soviet leader, Canada's policy towards that country has been pedestrian at
best, mired in Cold War assumptions at worst.”32 Such criticism may have
played a part in prompting a re-evaluation by the Mulroney government in the
spring of 1989; Dobell has argued that a more potent explanation was the
appointment of Bill McKnight as minister of national defence at the end of
January. Although Mulroney claimed that moving Perrin Beatty, the minister
who had championed the harsh-toned white paper through cabinet, did not
signal an abandonment of the policies laid out in that paper,33 the deep cuts
made in the defence budget in April of that year that effectively brought an end
to the expansion of capital acquisitions promised by the 1987 white paper, and
in the process made the portrait of the Soviet Union painted by the white paper
rather problematic.34 Likewise, within External Affairs there was division
over the correct approach to the USSR. However, it would appear that the
debate at the bureaucratic level does not explain the slowness of the Canadian
response. While there was some scepticism among External Affairs officials
about the longer-term impact of the changes underway in the USSR,
recommendations for shifts in Canadian policy were in fact being made to
Clark by the Department in 1987 and 1988. However, it was not until early
1989 that departmental recommendations for more prime ministerial attention
to Soviet policy were accepted.
Whatever the impetus, most observers date the change in the Canadian
government's attitude towards the Soviet Union to 3 May 1989.35 On that day,
both Mulroney and Clark gave speeches about Canadian policy towards the
Soviet Union. In Boston, Mulroney paid homage to the “innovative and daring
leadership” of Gorbachev, and claimed that Canada wanted to see his reforms
succeed.36 In Toronto, Clark enunciated a comparable theme to the Canadian
30
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
Club. To be sure, Clark's analysis of the underlying cause of change in the
Soviet Union had not changed since 1988: he continued to argue that “our own
persistence and prudence” and “the unity and the initiatives of the western
Alliance made it possible and necessary for changes to come.” Likewise, he
used the same theme invoked in January: “We must act with prudence and
imagination.” But the overall tenor of Clark's speech was completely different.
It surveyed the wide range of “real change” in Soviet attitudes and behaviour,
and concluded that Canadian, and western, interests depended on seeing the
reform movement succeed:
Canada and the West have a big stake in Mr Gorbachev's success. We
must encourage his reforms. We must applaud his efforts, while
asking for more. We must be patient. We must state our support for
his domestic goals clearly and unequivocally.37
The government followed these speeches with other statements later in May in
which Clark would reiterate the theme of the importance of Canadian (and
western) support for Gorbachev. To the House of Commons Standing
Committee on External Affairs and International Trade, he would bruit the
possibility of helping Soviet economic reforms by extending Canadian
assistance to the Soviet Union.38 By the time the Canadian and Soviet foreign
ministers met at the United Nations in the fall, Clark would be describing
himself as a “sympathetic observer,” and stressed that the government in
Ottawa was hoping that the reform movement would succeed.39
These statements heralded the beginning of a major shift in government
thinking about the USSR. That change would be complete with the visit paid
by Mulroney and Clark in November 1989 — a trip that coincided with the
breaching of the Berlin Wall and the radical transformations in Eastern Europe
that autumn. The visit lasted from 20 to 25 November. Mulroney and Clark
visited Moscow, St Petersburg, and Kiev. The trip was marked by a full range
of new cooperative ventures and increased closeness in the relationship. New
consulates were promised for Toronto, and, not insignificantly given the large
number of Canadians of Ukrainian descent, Kiev. Fourteen bilateral
agreements on a range of issues were signed while Mulroney was in Moscow;
seven new corporate joint ventures worth over $1 billion were announced.
As important were the clear signals of support that Mulroney gave Gorbachev
and his reform policies. Canada agreed to sign a Political Declaration, similar
to the one that had been signed with Helmut Kohl of Germany in June 1989.
This declaration committed both Canada and the USSR to put “post-war
ideological tension” behind them and to foster “a more positive spirit” in the
search for “common security.” Likewise, Mulroney also responded to
Gorbachev's desires to integrate the USSR more fully into the international
capitalist economy. He proposed a “dialogue mechanism” which would allow
the chair of the G-7 Economic Summit to brief Gorbachev. He also committed
Canada to support Soviet observer status at the GATT Council.
In Canada, there was universal support for the abandonment of what McMillan
has called Mulroney's “equivocal tone.”40 Indeed, one measure of the support
for the new tone in Canadian rhetoric was, paradoxically, the degree to which
the prime minister was so widely criticized for having waited so long. For
31
IJCS / RIÉC
example, Douglas Roche, a former Progressive Conservative MP who had
been appointed by Mulroney as Canada's ambassador for disarmament
between 1984 and 1989, publicly claimed that Ottawa had been too slow to
respond to changes in the USSR.41 Likewise, Jeffrey Simpson argued that the
prime minister's neglect of Soviet policy “must rank as the most serious failure
of the Mulroney government's foreign policy,”42 a theme echoed in a Globe
and Mail editorial on 25 November which claimed that the Canada/USSR
summit was “far too long in coming.”
If, as Mulroney himself stated to the House of Commons on his return to
Canada, the trip marked a “new beginning” in the relationship, it was also the
beginning of an uncertain period in Canada's approach to the Soviet Union.
Change and Uncertainty: November 1989 to December 1991
In the two years after Mulroney and Clark visited the USSR, relations between
the two countries continued to intensify. Transpolar Arctic cooperation, and
the expansion of business links between the two countries were particular
areas of institutional growth. In 1990, the Canada-USSR Business Council,
formed in the wake of the November 1989 visit, began operations with
considerable high-level support from both Canadian and Soviet officials.43
Likewise, in the military field, there was in 1990 a continued intensification of
Soviet-Canadian exchanges, usually small-scale but not insignificant
confidence-building measures. In January, a Canadian Forces Hercules
conducted a test of open skies procedures by overflying Soviet military bases
in Hungary.44 In January and February, a journalist exchange involved
Canadian reporters visiting a Soviet Army boot camp and Soviet reporters
spending a fortnight at a Canadian Forces base, CFB Cornwallis.45 In May, a
Soviet delegation visited Canada's military colleges while a Canadian
delegation toured military museums in the USSR. In June, a Canadian naval
squadron paid a goodwill visit to Vladivostok — the first naval vessels of any
NATO country to visit that city since 1937. While in Soviet waters, the
Canadian ships also participated in exercises under the incidents-at-sea
agreement that had been signed by the two countries in November 1989.46
While there was a steady increase in cooperative relations, there were two
issues that continued to vex the Canadian-Soviet policy agenda in this period.
The first was how Canada should seek to assist the USSR in making the
transition from a command economy to a more liberal, market-oriented
economy. The second was how to respond to the processes of decentralization
and fragmentation within the Soviet Union.
The signal that Canada wanted to play a role in assisting the process of
economic transition in the USSR actually came well before the November
1989 trip. In a wide-ranging statement before a parliamentary committee in
May 1989, Clark explicitly recognized not only that Canada could offer
assistance in such areas as oil, forestry, technology and management and
business methods, but also that it should provide such assistance. He
recognized that whether Gorbachev was sustained in power depended in large
part on an upturn in the Soviet economy: if Canada wants to see Gorbachev
32
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
succeed, Clark stated, “we must help the Soviet leaders achieve economic
success.”47 It was a theme that was reiterated by the prime minister during his
November trip: “We believe strongly that it is in everyone's interests,
including our own, that his reform efforts succeed and we are responding
constructively to them.”48
Throughout 1990, therefore, the government in Ottawa moved to provide
concrete manifestations of these statements of support. For example, during a
30-hour visit by Gorbachev to Ottawa on 29-30 May 1990, on his way to
Washington, the Canadian government announced that the Export
Development Corporation had signed an agreement with Vneshekonombank
extending a $500 million line of credit to firms engaged in Canada-Soviet
trade. This was followed later in the year by a second assistance package. On
17 November, following discussions in Moscow, Clark announced a $500,000
assistance plan for the transfer of expertise in business management practices.
Under this scheme, the Canadian Executive Service Organization would
supply 45 consultants to work with organizations in the USSR. At their
meeting with Clark on 16 November, Gorbachev and Shevardnadze requested
that Canada provide the USSR with food aid. Clark then called Mulroney by
phone to alert him to the request and to secure a formal Canadian response by
the time that Gorbachev and Mulroney met in Paris. After a 45-minute meeting
on 21 November at the Paris meeting of the Conference on Security and
Cooperation in Europe, Mulroney announced that Canada would extend an
emergency food aid package to the USSR worth $150 million.49
The Canadian government did not conceive of its role in assisting the process
of economic transition in the USSR solely in government-to-government or in
even in bilateral terms. Thus, for example, ministers stressed the importance of
individuals in the private sector — many of them ironically of Eastern
European origin — to the process of economic reform in the USSR and Eastern
Europe.50
Likewise, the government in Ottawa sought to broaden assistance to the Soviet
Union through multilateral channels, particularly in its attempts to achieve a
closer integration of the USSR in the international economy. These attempts
focussed on trying to arrange agreements for multilateral aid packages;
supporting institutions such as the European Bank of Reconstruction and
Development, established by western states to assist the process of transition
in the USSR and Eastern Europe; and working to establish an institutional link
between the USSR and the G-7 Economic Summit.
As noted above, as early as November 1989, Mulroney was expressing support
for some form of institutional link between Gorbachev and the Economic
Summit, but hesitated to press the case at the Houston summit in 1990, where
the main items discussed were agricultural reform and aid to the USSR. At this
meeting, Canada committed itself to extending both agricultural and export
credits to the USSR, and to expand both technical assistance agreements and
private sector joint ventures.
The issue of Gorbachev's attendance at the G-7 summit assumed considerable
symbolic importance in 1991, with the summit leaders clearly split over the
33
IJCS / RIÉC
appropriateness of having the Soviet leader attend the London summit.51 The
Canadian government's position was, in one observer's view, “ambiguous.”52
On the one hand, it was clear that Canada generally supported the view that it
would be useful to have Gorbachev in attendance in London. Thus, for
example, while in Japan on an official visit in May, Mulroney apparently
secured the approval of Toshiki Kaifu, the Japanese prime minister, for an
invitation to Gorbachev.53 On the other hand, Mulroney demonstrated a clear
reluctance to join with the French and Germans and oppose United States
president George Bush and British prime minister John Major, both of whom
were expressing skepticism that the USSR could absorb large infusions of
foreign aid. By June, Mulroney was echoing that skepticism: on an official
visit to Germany — whose government had made no secret of its desire not
only to have Gorbachev attend the London summit but also to have the G-7
extend significant assistance to the USSR — Mulroney argued that while the
Soviet request for assistance should be seriously considered, aid should be
linked to “fundamental, viable reform.” Canadian taxpayers, he said, would
accuse the government of throwing good money after bad if Canadian aid were
extended to the USSR without a fundamental reform of the Soviet economy.
Instead, Mulroney noted that before you can build a 16-storey building, it's a
good idea to have a firm foundation.54 On the eve of the London summit,
Mulroney was sounding even more negative on the issue of aid, warning
Gorbachev that there would be “no blank cheques and no miracles” at the
meeting between the G-7 leaders and the Soviet president.55
It is clear that the abortive coup against Gorbachev of 19-21 August 1991
considerably altered the Mulroney government's approach to western
economic assistance to the USSR. Ottawa's first reaction to the coup was later
described by an observer as one of “bloodless pragmatism.”56 Clark's
successor as secretary of state for external affairs, Barbara McDougall —
guided, it must be noted, by advice from her officials in External Affairs —
intimated that Canada was not going to insist that Gorbachev be returned to
power, stating that “it's up to the Soviet people to decide on the success of the
coup.” She also seemed to express Canada's desire to work with “whoever is in
power,” provided that they continue to abide by “the principles of democratic
adjustment.”57
However, after Mulroney spoke to Gorbachev by phone on 22 August, the
Canadian government's position shifted. Mulroney distanced himself from
McDougall's early responses. McDougall herself amended her view.
Moreover, as in other western states, there was some speculation that a more
generous approach to aid might have helped to avert a coup. Indeed, the leader
of the opposition, Jean Chrétien, argued that Gorbachev might have found it
somewhat easier to survive had the G-7 been “a bit more generous” at the
London summit: “I suspect,” he said, “there are some among western leaders
who regret it now.”58 While there is no evidence that the government in
Ottawa endorsed such counterfactual speculation, Canada was already
moving with other members of the European Bank of Reconstruction and
Development to press the United States to agree to loosen the Bank's purse
strings.59 By 30 August, Mulroney was pressing in a television interview for
“new ideas and new resources” to assist the Soviet Union. On this occasion, he
34
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
raised the spectre that instability in a disintegrating USSR might lead to a loss
of control over the Soviet nuclear arsenal, thus posing a considerable threat to
Western security. This, Mulroney suggested, was a compelling reason why the
West should look towards new aid to avoid destabilization. However, the
prime minister did not announce any specific policy initiatives at that time;
instead, he noted that the international trade minister, Michael Wilson, was in
London for talks on assistance measures.60
A month later, the Canadian government continued its efforts to create highprofile pressure on the issue. In what one Canadian official described as “a trial
balloon” intended to “push the world forces into new areas,” Mulroney
delivered a keynote speech at Stanford University in which he argued that the
West in general and the United States in particular had a special responsibility
for assisting the USSR in the post-Cold War period: “We have extended the
former Soviet Union an olive branch; we must also throw them a lifeline. The
goal is to help the countries of Central Europe, the Baltics, Russia, Ukraine and
the other republics help themselves.”61
While the Mulroney government's approach to economic assistance to the
Soviet Union in the two years after November 1989 was motivated by a
genuine desire to assist the process of transition within the Soviet Union, the
aid package — such as it was — was always hostage to broader political trends
that frequently subordinated the desire to assist reforms. In particular, aid was
much affected by a Canadian sensitivity to crackdowns in the USSR, and an
equal Canadian willingness to reach for sanctions as the preferred tool of
statecraft against the USSR.
Such willingness can be most clearly seen in the Canadian reaction to the
August coup. As Mulroney curtly said of Canadian assistance to the USSR on
19 August: “It's frozen.” The rhetoric that came naturally was the same
rhetoric invoked in virtually all cases of Canadian sanctions:62 Mulroney that
Canada was “not going to go back to business as usual until we find out” what
happened to Gorbachev.63 As in other cases of sanctions, the opposition
tended to be more punitive than the government, calling for additional strong
sanctions. For his part, Chrétien argued that Canada should invoke further
retaliatory measures, such as suspending the $1 billion line of credit for grain
purchases. The New Democratic Party external affairs critic, Svend Robinson,
and Liberal critic, Lloyd Axworthy, proposed moving the meeting of the
Conference on Secutity and Cooperation in Europe, due to be held in Moscow
in September.64
The aid program was also affected by Canada's approach towards the
increasingly tenuous state of the Soviet federation, the unravelling of which
started most obviously on 11 March 1990 when the Lithuanian parliament
issued a declaration of independence, arguing that the 1940 annexation by the
USSR had been illegal.
The Canadian government's response to this signal event was limited to the
rhetorical and symbolic. The following day, the House of Commons passed a
resolution supporting the declaration of independence; Clark was forthright in
his assertion that Canada recognized Lithuania “as a state,” and “stands in
35
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support of the political and actual independence of Lithuania.”65 Likewise, the
government in Ottawa took the symbolic, but not insignificant, step of
agreeing to receive Kasimira Pruskiene, the Lithuanian prime minister, who
stopped in Ottawa en route to Washington in late April. But the concrete
response at this time was limited, much to the chagrin of Michael Wilson, the
finance minister. Wilson, described by one reporter as a “big Baltics fan,” got
into a sharp cabinet-level dispute with Clark over the relatively soft Canadian
response to the Lithuanian declaration. While the organization representing
the 35,000 Canadians of Lithuanian descent urged the government to oppose
the Kremlin's “quiet violence” and refuse to adopt a business-as-usual
approach, an External Affairs official claimed that sanctions would not be “a
helpful step.”66
However, such a symbolic approach would not be employed in January 1991
when Lithuanian relations with the Kremlin soured again over the issue of the
imposition of the draft in the republics. On that occasion, the central
government's threats of direct rule were backed up by the movement of troops
into the Baltic republics. The response by the Canadian government was sharp:
Richard Ovinnikov, the newly-arrived Soviet ambassador, was called into
External Affairs twice — on 8 and 11 January — to hear Canadian
apprehensions about the military forces being moved into Lithuania and other
republics, and to remind him of the undertakings that both Gorbachev and
Shevardnadze had given Clark and Mulroney in November 1989 that there
would be no forceful crackdown in the republics.
When Soviet paratroopers stormed buildings in the Lithuanian capital of
Vilnius on 11 and 12-13 January, leading to the deaths of fourteen people, the
government in Ottawa responded by announcing a review of the technical
assistance and lines of credit agreed upon in 1990. For his part, Mulroney
wrote to Gorbachev on 13 January, warning explicitly that the further use of
force would have “serious consequences” for Canada-Soviet relations, and in
particular Canada's aid. And when Soviet forces stormed the Latvian interior
ministry in Riga on 20 January, Clark suspended all assistance. He also
announced that he was looking at different ways that Canada could “support”
the Baltic states, arguing that while there were limits to what Canada could do
vis-à-vis the USSR, “it is my intention and the personal commitment of the
Prime Minister to push those limits as far as is humanly possible.”67
As it turned out, the process of Baltic independence was largely oblivious to
the western responses of January 1991. The August 1991 coup proved to be the
determining catalyst, prompting first Estonia and then Latvia to declare
independence; in Lithuania, the Communist Party was abolished and all its
assets were seized. On 23 August, Barbara McDougall, the secretary of state
for external affairs, strongly hinted that Canada would establish diplomatic
relations with the newly-independent states,68 and indeed, three days later,
Ottawa joined a number of other smaller western states who formally
established diplomatic relations with the Baltic states, a week before American
recognition and two weeks before the State Council of the Soviet Union
formally granted them independence.
36
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
The government in Ottawa moved quickly to give concrete expression to its
recognition of the Baltic states. Michael Wilson, the trade minister, travelled to
Vilnius on 2 September and Riga on 3 September to sign the documents
establishing diplomatic relations. Wilson brought with him undertakings from
the Canadian Bar Association, the Canadian Bankers Association, and the
Canadian Executive Service Organization to provide the new states with
technical assistance, and from the Export Development Corporation to set
aside $10 million for development incentives.69 By December, Canadian
diplomatic missions had been opened in Tallin, Estonia and Riga, Latvia.
But the independence of the Baltic states would have implications concerning
Canada's response to the efforts of other republics to alter their relations with
the central government in Moscow.70 The key republic was Ukraine, which
also declared independence in the wake of the August coup. The Canadian
government had traditionally treated manifestations of nationalism within the
Soviet Union with considerable care,71 always concerned with how
encouraging nationalism in other federations would affect Quebec
independence. To be sure, such concerns did not always elicit approval: as
John Cruickshank, The Globe and Mail's foreign affairs columnist, put it, “the
principles of our foreign policy have been warped to conform to the domestic
demands created by our fragile unity. As foreign policy goes, it is sordid,
spineless and snivelling, intellectually craven and morally corrupt.”72
However, the government in Ottawa was unmoved by such criticism: it
continued to tread a cautious path. Even as Ottawa was encouraging Baltic
independence in the spring of 1990, Clark was still inclined to engage in an
elaborate diplomatic dance on the issue: for example, when Bronius
Kusmickas, Lithuania's foreign minister, visited Ottawa, Clark refused to meet
him in his capacity as secretary of state for external affairs; but he did greet him
warmly in his capacity as a “fellow member of parliament.”73 Likewise, while
Mulroney had promised in November 1989 that Canada would open a
consulate in Kiev, Ukraine's capital, no consulate was opened. Many
Ukrainian-Canadians believed that the Department of External Affairs was
purposely resisting opening the Kiev consulate for political purposes, and
refused to accept McDougall's explanation for the delay which indicated that
there had been problems with accommodations, and diplomatic problems with
Soviets.74
In August, however, Mulroney crossed what The Globe and Mail termed “a
forbidden line.”75 After a meeting with George Bush at the president's summer
home in Kennebunkport, Maine, on 26 August 1991, Mulroney shifted
decades of Canadian policy in one stroke. Stating that “Obviously we will
respect the freely expressed wishes of the people of the Ukraine,” Mulroney
and other government officials promised that if the decision of the
independence referendum scheduled for 1 December 1991 was positive,
Canadian recognition of Ukraine would follow.76 It is true that Mulroney was
hinging his approach to Ukrainian independence on the referendum, but there
was little disguising the explicit Canadian support for self-determination for a
subnational group seeking independence from a federation. And Mulroney
was as good as his word: after the referendum, which Canadian election
monitors declared was “free and democratic,”77 the Canadian government
37
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extended recognition to Ukraine, and later moved to open a Canadian embassy
in Kiev.
After the Ukrainian vote for independence, the end came quickly: on
Christmas Day, Mikhail S. Gorbachev resigned; the USSR was disbanded; the
remaining republics all declared their independence. On the same day, Brian
Mulroney announced that Canada was recognizing the eleven new
independent states.78
Conclusion: The Politics of Circumspection
This brief survey of the evolution of Canadian-Soviet relations from the rise to
power of Mikhail Gorbachev in March 1985 to the end of the Soviet Union on
Christmas Day in 1991 has sought to show that, over these six years, Canadian
policy towards the USSR became increasingly ambiguous, even after Ottawa's
change of policy in mid-1989. Elements of cooperation sat uneasily alongside
elements of conflict, actual or latent: the encouragement of private-sector
investment coexisted with government-imposed disruptions to economic
intercourse as a punishment for crackdowns; military exchanges and
confidence-building measures coexisted with rhetorical justifications and
military expenditures rooted in assumptions of enmity; cooperation in the
Arctic coexisted with conflict in the realm of espionage; support of the centre
coexisted with support of the periphery.
What accounts for the often tortuous course of Canadian policy over these six
years? While there were no doubt a number of factors that could explain the
evolution of Canadian policy, one in particular distinguishes Canada from
other western states: the resistance to change at the ministerial level. There was
little willingness to consider the idea that the changes in the Soviet Union
should prompt a rethinking of some of the basic tenets of their worldview.
When Mulroney and his ministers came to power in September 1984, they
exuded a sense of assurance about the fundamental orientation of the USSR in
world politics, a sense of certainty about the posture of the USSR as a rival to
— and indeed as an enemy of — the West. Mulroney himself came to power in
1984 with his anti-Sovietism at a high pitch. In his year as leader of the
opposition, one of the key events had been the shoot-down of Korean Air Lines
flight 007, and his reaction to this event demonstrated clearly a deep antipathy
to the USSR. Likewise, during the election campaign of 1984, Mulroney, like
John Diefenbaker and Joe Clark before him, had engaged in the ritualistic
Progressive Conservative hunt for the East European vote. At an international
convention of Estonians in Toronto, for example, he ferociously denounced
the Soviet Union, describing the world as “half slave, half free.” He reminded
them that Diefenbaker's criticism of the Soviet domination of Eastern Europe
had prompted Nikita Khrushchev to bang his shoe on the table at the United
Nations, and that he, Mulroney, would do no less for the cause of Eastern
Europeans.79 To be sure, Mulroney was not only perpetuating a fanciful bit of
Tory mythology (for Diefenbaker had not even been present at the UN for the
shoe-banging incident, but back in his riding of Prince Albert), but, more
importantly, reflecting a deep-seated belief that playing the anti-Soviet card in
Canadian politics would yield electoral benefits given the large number of
38
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
Canadians of East European origin. Moreover, some have argued that the
Yugoslav origins of his wife Mila and her family added to Mulroney's antiSoviet proclivities.
Other Mulroney front-benchers were as firmly anti-Communist and antiSoviet, and, it would appear, as firmly convinced that anti-Sovietism was good
politics. The defining foreign policy moments during Joe Clark's prime
ministership had been related to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in
December 1979, and both Clark and his secretary of state for external affairs,
Flora MacDonald, engaged in loud and vitriolic attacks on the USSR for that
intervention;80 there is no evidence to suggest that their views had changed
much by the time they returned to power as ministers in the Mulroney
government. Michael Wilson also had firmly anti-Soviet views, made stronger
by the politics of his own suburban Toronto riding which was heavily Eastern
European in origin. Erik Neilsen and Sinclair Stevens, both influential
ministers at the outset of the Mulroney government, were also strongly antiSoviet.
Almost from the outset, however, the vision of USSR-as-enemy proved to be
atavistic, as the pace of radical change in foreign policy coming from the
USSR far outstripped ministers' perceptions. The problem was that, while
Mulroney and his ministers had very fixed ideas about the USSR, it can be
argued that there was not a great deal of intellectual depth to those views. In
other words, they were views that sprang from superficial concerns about
domestic electoral considerations rather than a well-worked out vision of the
nature of international politics and the role that rival powers play in shaping the
international system. Unlike their counterparts in other western states who
tended to have a clearer view of why the Soviet Union was the enemy,
Canadian ministers saw the USSR in largely domestic, political terms. Thus,
when the system changed radically, those ministers tended to be at sea. Rather
than assessing the profound shift that was occurring on its own terms,
ministers in the Mulroney government tended to see those shifts only through
domestic, political lenses. The tendency was to worry about the domestic
implications of abandoning a strong anti-Soviet line. Indeed, it would appear
that Mulroney and his ministers were so concerned about the domestic,
political ramifications of embracing the USSR that it took an inordinately long
time for Canadian policy to change, with ministers continuing to talk about the
need for prudence and continuing to attend anti-Soviet rallies long after their
counterparts in Europe had abandoned such overt anti-Sovietism. Moreover,
when ministers eventually agreed to a shift in policy, they seemed hesitant and
uncertain, and were so until the object of their long-standing antipathy — the
Soviet Union — no longer existed.
Notes
1.
2.
Lawrence Martin, Breaking with History — The Gorbachev Revolution: An Eyewitness
Account (Toronto: Doubleday, 1989).
See J.L. Black and Norman Hillmer, “Canada and the Soviet Union as Neighbours,” in Black
and Hillmer, eds., Nearly Neighbours: Canada and the Soviet Union (Kingston: Ronald P.
Frye, 1989), pp. 12-13.
39
IJCS / RIÉC
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
40
Robert A.D. Ford, Our Man in Moscow: A Diplomat's Reflections on the Soviet Union
(Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1989), chap. 12.
The Globe and Mail, 5 February 1987.
For example, in April 1988, a 12-member delegation from Environment Canada travelled to
Tblisi to discuss pollution detection techniques with their Soviet counterparts. Toronto Star,
18 April 1988.
Canada, Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 89/3, Vienna, 19 January
1989, p. 7.
“Soviet-Arctic cooperation,” International Canada 17 (December/January 1988), p. 13.
International Canada (February/March 1987), p. 14.
Montreal Gazette, 22 December 1988.
W.M. Dobell, “Soviet Relations and Canadian Defence,” International Journal 46 (Summer
1991), p. 545.
Dobell, “Soviet Relations and Canadian Defence,” p. 551; Allan L. Kagedan, “Canada and
the Soviet Union,” in Fen Osler Hampson and Christopher J. Maule, eds., Canada Among
Nations, 1990-91: After the Cold War (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1991), pp. 202205.
Carl H. McMillan, “Canada's Response to the `New Detente' in East-West Economic
Relations,” in Maureen Appel Molot and Fen Osler Hampson, eds., Canada Among Nations,
1989: The Challenge of Change (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1990), p. 73.
McMillan, “Canada's Response to the `New Detente',” pp. 71, 73.
The Globe and Mail, 24 and 25 November 1986.
Ottawa Citizen, 23 June 1988; The Globe and Mail, 25 June 1988.
International Canada (September/October 1988), pp. 41-42.
The Globe and Mail, 28 June 1988; 29 September 1988.
Lenard J. Cohen, “The Soviet Union and Eastern Europe in Transition: Trends and
Implications for Canada,” in Molot and Hampson, eds., Canada Among Nations, 1989, p.
35.
For a discussion, see Kim Richard Nossal, “Political leadership and foreign policy: Trudeau
and Mulroney,” in Leslie A. Pal and David Taras, eds., Prime Ministers and Premiers:
Political Leadership and Public Policy in Canada (Scarborough: Prentice-Hall Canada,
1988), pp. 117-118.
See the anecdotal account of the frustration of Moscow-based diplomats with this
attachment to “old thinking” in Martin, Breaking with History, pp. 88-89.
Canada, Department of National Defence, Challenge and Commitment: A Defence Policy
for Canada (Ottawa: Supply and Services Canada, 1987).
See, for example, the selections in “Challenge and Commitment: Comments on the Defence
White Paper,” Behind the Headlines 45 (September 1987).
James Eayrs, “Assessing the Ice-pack Rationale,” Peace and Security 2 (August 1987),
p. 11.
Challenge and Commitment, p. 5.
International Canada (April/May 1985), p. 10.
The Globe and Mail, 3 October 1987; Dobell, “Soviet Relations and Canadian Defence,”
p. 545.
The Globe and Mail, 24 August 1987.
Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches, Hamilton, 31 October 1988.
In his criticism of Pierre Trudeau's peace mission, Mulroney argued that “History has shown
— and current events have confirmed — that the Soviet Union does not respond to fine
words or to philosophical musings.” Quoted in The Globe and Mail, 28 October 1983.
Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 89/2, “East-West Relations: The
Way Ahead,” Calgary, 13 January 1989, pp. 1-2, 5.
Defence Newsletter, Dalhousie University Centre for Foreign Policy Studies, 8 (November
1989), p. 11.
“Meeting him halfway,” The Globe and Mail, 25 January 1989.
The Globe and Mail, 31 January 1989.
Dobell, “Soviet Relations and Canadian Defence.”
Cohen, “Soviet Union and Eastern Europe in Transition,” p. 37.
The Globe and Mail, 4 May 1989.
The Politics of Circumspection: Canadian Policy
towards the USSR, 1985 to 1991
37. Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 89/12, Toronto, 3 May 1989, p. 6.
38. Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 89/17, “Canada and the World,”
Ottawa, 11 May 1989, p. 4.
39. The Globe and Mail, 27 September 1989.
40. McMillan, “Canada's Response to the `New Detente',” p. 70.
41. The Globe and Mail, 9 November 1989.
42. The Globe and Mail, 21 November 1989.
43. See Kagedan, “Canada and the Soviet Union,” pp. 200-205.
44. The Globe and Mail, 4 January 1990.
45. Ottawa Citizen, 25 February 1990.
46. Toronto Star, 18 June 1990.
47. Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 89/17, Ottawa, 11 May 1989, p. 4.
48. The Globe and Mail, 27 November 1989.
49. The Globe and Mail, 22 November 1990.
50. See, for example, the tributes paid to Andrew Sarlos, Thomas Bata and the Reichman
brothers in speeches by Joe Clark (Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches
90/3, Montreal, 5 February 1990, p. 8) and John Crosbie, the minister for international trade
(Department of External Affairs, Statements and Speeches 90/7, Bonn, 10 April 1990, p. 4).
51. See, for example, Bush's negative comments cited in The Globe and Mail, 24 May 1991.
52. Madelaine Drohan, The Globe and Mail, 22 June 1991.
53. The Globe and Mail, 29 May 1991.
54. The Globe and Mail, 14 June 1991.
55. The Globe and Mail, 16, 17, 19 July 1991.
56. Charlotte Gray, “New Faces in Old Places: the Making of Canadian Foreign Policy,” in
Hampson and Maule, eds., Canada Among Nations, 1992-93, p. 15.
57. Lenard J. Cohen, `Post-Communist Transitions: The Background, Challenges, and
Canadian Response,' in Fen Osler Hampson and Christopher J. Maule, eds., Canada Among
Nations, 1992-93: A New World Order? (Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1992), p. 275.
58. The Globe and Mail, 21 August 1991.
59. The Globe and Mail, 23 August 1991.
60. The Globe and Mail, 31 August 1991.
61. The Globe and Mail, 1 October 1991.
62. For a broader examination of Canadian sanctions policy, see Kim Richard Nossal, Rain
Dancing: Sanctions in Canadian and Australian Foreign Policy (Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 1994).
63. The Globe and Mail, 20 August 1989.
64. The Globe and Mail, 21 August 1991.
65. The Globe and Mail, 13 March 1990; The Hamilton Spectator, 13 March 1990.
66. Toronto Star, 1 April 1990; The Globe and Mail, 20 April 1990.
67. Clark's address to the House of Commons, 21 January 1991, Department of External Affairs,
Statements and Speeches 91/4, Ottawa, 21 January 1991; Mulroney's letter cited, pp. 6-7.
68. The Globe and Mail, 24 August 1991.
69. The Globe and Mail, 3 September 1991.
70. For a discussion, see Cohen, “Post-Communist Transitions,” pp. 277-78.
71. The long-standing, but unsuccessful, attempt of the Canadian-Ukrainian community to shift
the Canadian government's position on the Ukraine is surveyed in Samuel J. Nesdoly,
“Changing Perspectives: the Ukrainian-Canadians' Role in Canadian-Soviet Relations,” in
Aloysius Balawyder, ed., Canadian-Soviet Relations, 1939-1980 (Oakville: Mosaic Press,
1981), pp. 107-27.
72. The Globe and Mail, 30 August 1991.
73. The Globe and Mail, 31 August 1991.
74. Comments of Ukrainian-Canadians and Ukrainian officials cited in Edward Greenspon,
“Quebec fears felt in Ukraine,” The Globe and Mail, 5 September 1991; McDougall's
comments in ibid., 9 September 1991.
75. The Globe and Mail, 31 August 1991.
76. The Globe and Mail, 31 August 1991.
77. The Globe and Mail, 3 December 1991.
78. Office of the Prime Minister, Release, 25 December 1991.
41
IJCS / RIÉC
79.
80.
42
Toronto Star, 13 July 1984, quoted in David Taras, “Brian Mulroney's Foreign Policy:
Something for Everyone,” Round Table 293 (1985), p. 40.
For accounts, see Nossal, Rain Dancing, chap. 7; James Bayer, “Sanctioning the Soviets:
The Afghanistan Intervention, 1979-80,” in Don Munton and John Kirton, eds., Canadian
Foreign Policy: Selected Cases (Scarborough: Prentice-Hall Canada, 1992), pp. 286-98.
Helena G. Komkova
Canadian Studies in Russia
Abstract
Canada has always stimulated the interest of Russians. In fact, Russians have
been familiar with Canadian literature from their early school years. Even
during the height of the Cold War, official Soviet propaganda portrayed
Canada in quite sympathetic terms. By the same token, there has long been a
scholarly interest in Canada. The Institute of the USA and Canada has played
the leading role, but important research has also been pursued at other
Moscow institutions. Recently, collaboration with Canadianists elsewhere
has been spurred by two international conferences.
Résumé
Le Canada a toujours suscité l'intérêt des Russes. De fait, dès le bas âge
scolaire, les russes détiennent une bonne connaissance de la littérature
canadienne. Même durant la période la plus intense de la Guerre froide, la
propagande officielle dépeignait le Canada en termes plutôt bienveillants.
Pareillement, les universitaires s'intéressent au Canada depuis longue date.
L'institut des États-Unis et du Canada a certes joué le rôle de chef de file, mais
d'autres instituts de Moscou ont également mené d'importantes recherches.
Récemment, deux conférences internationales ont stimulé des échanges avec
les canadianistes à l'étranger.
Canada has always evoked a great deal of interest in Russia and the former
USSR. Even in the worst times of the Cold war its image in our country has
been rather more positive than negative. This is partly due to the fact that little
Soviet children began their discovery of Canada with the realistic Animal
Stories by Ernest Seton-Thompson, who spent his boyhood in Ontario. As
teenagers they saw Canada through the prism of the severe North, the Gold
Rush, beautiful nature, and noble struggles of Indian tribes for survival,
wonderfully depicted in the books by Jack London and Fenimore Cooper. As
adults, they continued their acquaintance with Canada by reading humorous
sketches by Stephen Leacock, “nature” stories by Farley Mowat and novels by
Margaret Atwood.
Later on, when Soviet citizens were exposed to a flood of negative information
about Canada (depicting the so-called evils of Canadian capitalism, the
desperate state of the Canadian unemployed, the dominance of transnational
corporations over her economy, and permanent attempts by American
imperialism to subjugate Canadian culture, etc.), it was in most cases balanced
by facts of another kind, considered “positive” by the Soviet officialdom.
Thus, at the time of the Vietnam war, Soviet mass media showed Canada as a
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
place of refuge for American draft evaders; in the Khrushchev years a lot of
attention was paid to Canadian achievements in agriculture and the possibility
of using this experience in the USSR. Popular themes in Soviet newspapers
and magazines ranged from optimistic articles about the activities of the
Communist Party of Canada to information about the growing strength of
Canadian trade-unions and the ascendant curve in the number of strikes. The
situation in Quebec, which was regarded as a manifestation of the general
crisis of capitalism and its failure to resolve ultimate problems, was also a
favorite subject of Soviet journalists and politologists.
At that time another very important point for scholars involved in Canadian
research was to draw a clear distinction between Canadian and American roles
in international affairs. Unlike the USA, Canada has never been considered in
the USSR as a potential rival or as an enemy power. Failure to dissociate
Canadian foreign policy from the American one was regarded by Party
censorship as a serious political mistake and a sign of immaturity of scientists
with all related consequences.
After the collapse of the USSR and the emergence of a new sovereign Russia,
the process of the abolishing censorship, and the concomitant release of
writers from the restrictions of ideological dogma and Marxist-Leninist
requirements, one entire orientation of Canadian studies changed. Instead of
“exposing, denouncing and criticizing,” they are now guided by the more
practical goal of learning from positive Canadian experience. It is worth
noting, that this transition has been quite smoothly executed by practically the
same contingent of Canadianists who had worked under the old regime. To my
mind, this perfectly demonstrates the degree to which such dogmas and
requirements were alien to normal research. However, the continuity provided
for relatively high level of applied research and allowed researchers to avoid
the pitfalls of oversimplification. Proceeding from the obvious similarity of
the two neighboring countries, Russian Canadianists succeeded in
overcoming the temptation to prescribe a similar recipe for the Russian ailing
economy.
Canadian Studies research in Russia inherited in full the achievements of the
old Soviet Canadiana1. Among its patriarchies were the well-known
personalities such as Academician Abram G. Mileikovsky — author of the
famous monograph Canada and Anglo-American Contradictions (Moscow,
1958), Professor Vladimir V. Sushchenko, who wrote a classic book
Monopolistic Capital in Canada (Moscow, 1964) and late Professor Leon A.
Bagramov, who was not only a gifted researcher, journalist and editor, but also
a founder of the Soviet Association for Canadian Studies (1989) and of its
successor — the Russian Association for Canadian Studies (1992). He was as
well the first Head of the Canadian Department at the Institute of the USA and
Canada (ISCAN).
Since 1974, the best part of Canadian Studies research has been done by
scholars associated with the newly created Canadian Section (Department
since 1979) within the framework of ISCAN. Using ISCAN's advantageous
position and high credibility at home and abroad (its first director —
Academician George A. Arbatov, who is still in office — was at that time a
48
Canadian Studies in Russia
member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the USSR and
foreign policy adviser to the General Secretary), the Department recruited the
best available specialists — graduates of the Moscow State Institute of
International Relations and of Moscow State University. Besides, ISCAN
succeeded in establishing its own system of post graduate studies — the socalled aspirantura. As a result, the majority of the Institute's holders of Ph.D.
degrees prepared and presented their theses at the Institute. From the very
beginning the Institute managed to publish a bi-monthly bulletin and a
monthly learned journal USA: economics, politics, ideology.
No wonder that Canadian studies flourished in the second half of the 1970s80s. At its peak, the Canadian Department of ISCAN — the leading Canadian
Studies center in Russia and the USSR — numbered 17 scholars (now it is
reduced to 10). During these very years, there were prepared and published
about two dozen individual studies as well as a series of collective
monographs: Canada on the Threshold of the 80s: Politics and Economics,
edited by Leon A. Bagramov (1979); Canada and the USA: Economic and
Political Relations, edited by Sergei F. Molotchkov and Vitalii B. Povolotsky,
(1983); Contemporary Domestic Policy of Canada, edited by Sergei F.
Molotchkov (1986); and The State and the Economy of Canada, (1986). The
fifth book from the series, Canada in World Policy and Economy, which was
completed by the end of the 1980s has been never released due to financial
constraints.
Research on Canada in Russia is also carried out at the Institute of General
History of the Russian Academy of Sciences, the Institute of the World
Economy and International Affairs (both of the Russian Academy of Sciences
of Moscow), as well as at the Moscow State University. Another two or three
dozen actively working Russian Canadianists are scattered over different
Moscow scientific and educational institutions. The fact that Canadian Studies
has been concentrated in Moscow is one of the striking peculiarities of the
process. This was due to both political and economic reasons. It is a task for the
newly founded Russian Association for Canadian Studies (RACS) to
overcome this pattern and to support the development of Canadian studies
beyond the Moscow area.
The crisis in Russia of today has adversely affected the Academy of Sciences
of Russia, with its network of more than 200 research institutes, as well as
Russia's universities. Having been previously l00% subsidized from the
federal budget, these institutions quite unexpectedly found themselves in a
very poor financial situation. Suffice it to say that at the end of 1993 many of
them received government money only to pay rather modest salaries to its
staff. All other expenditures, crucial for the institutes' survival, including rent,
heating, electricity, water supply, telephone service, and so on, received no
funding at all. Budgetary financing to the main Academy of Sciences'
Publishing House, Nauka, was also cut. Nowadays it functions as a
commercial enterprise and is not much interested in purely academic, and
hence non-profit, works.
The withdrawal of Nauka from the academic arena coincided with the
termination of ISCAN's bulletin publication. The only learned journal
49
IJCS / RIÉC
published now by the Institute, USA: economics, politics, ideology, faces
serious financial difficulties which might lead to its bankruptcy by the middle
of this year.
The reaction to these adverse conditions of the Russian scientists was quite
varied. Some of them quit scientific work for better-paid positions in private
business, governmental institutions and joint ventures. Some got
advantageous contracts in the West and now teach and live abroad. Others
have had to accept extra employment to sustain themselves.
But the majority of Russia's Canadianists opted to set up a club of specialists in
their field, which might support its members and develop Canadian Studies in
Russia. To this end the Soviet Association of Canadian Studies was
established in 1989 which after the collapse of the USSR was transformed into
the RACS (1992). Both associations received timely support from the
Canadian government. Such assistance, alongside its members' fees and
voluntary contributions from various private and non-governmental
organizations, provided for RACS Charter's activities.
The First International SACS Biennial Conference entitled “Canada-USSR:
National and Ethnic Problems” (Chernovtsi, Ukraine) was held in 1991 with
the participation of the Ukrainian Association of Canadian Studies. It was
considered to be a success.
The Second International RACS Conference “Canada Viewed From East and
West” took place in 1993 in Moscow. It was attended by 47 participants from
13 countries. Its work was conducted in three parallel sessions and eight
discussion panels.
Among 18 Russian participants there were representatives of ISCAN (11
speakers), Moscow State University (2), the Institute of Geography, the AllRussian Institute of Finance and Economics, the Institute of Youth, the
Diplomatic Academy and the Moscow State Institute of International
Relations. Professor Leon A. Bagramov, who was the initiator and the
Chairman of the Organizing Committee of the Conference was to deliver an
address under the indicative title “Russia and Canada: Doomed to
Partnership.” But due to unexpected illness he was unable to attend.
Within the focus of the Moscow Conference discussion were all aspects of
Russian-Canadian relations, to which an entire session and two days of
interesting debates were devoted.2 In the process reports were made by Dr.
Arkady Tcherkassov (Chair of the Session), “Historical, Human and Political
Geography of Canada and Russia: Some Parallels;” Mrs. Olga Shapyrina,
“Framework for Russian-Canadian Environmental Cooperation”; Dr.
Antipova, “The Compilation of Ecological Maps for Russia and Canada”; Dr.
Tatiana Zabelina, “Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the Modern
World”; and Dr. Helena Komkova, “Prospects for Russian-Canadian
Cooperation in the Asia-Pacific Region”. All these presentations could be
referred to as comparative studies. Two other papers by Russian participants,
though delivered at other parallel sessions, logically fall into this very
category. I am referring to “Modern Federalism in Global Transition: the Case
50
Canadian Studies in Russia
of Canada and Russia,” by Dr. Slava E. Shealo, and “Local Governments in
Canada: Some Lessons for Russia,” by Dr. Ludmila A. Nemova.
Another group of reports, which did not actually include the name Russia in
their titles, were closely related to the first category. Analyzing Canadian mass
movements and social issues, Russian speakers, voluntarily or not, had in mind
similar problems facing Russia, and in their conclusions they implicitly meant
our country. This is particularly true, if we speak of such presentations as
“Changing Labour Policy in Canada,” by Prof. Oleg S. Soroko-Tsupa;
“Canadian Education: Main Features and Problems,” by Associate Professor
Victoria Khoroshilova; and “Mass Media in Canada,” by Dr. Svetlana
Orekhova.
The third group of papers was of a more academic character and apparently
devoted entirely to Canadian realities. Among them were “Canada and the
Free-Trade Zone in North America,” by Mr. Konstantin Baranovsky; “Les
débats Ottawa-Québec : les problèmes du fonctionnement du fédéralisme
courant ou changement du statut actuel,” by Dr. Nikita Bantsekin; “Liberal and
Conservative Parties Leadership: Some Socio-Cultural Evaluations,” by Dr.
Sergei Danilov; “Foreign Policy of Canada During the Mulroney Period,” by
Dr. Sergei Molotchkov; “The International Business of Canadian Banks in the
1980s and the Beginning of the 1990s,” by Prof. Vladimir Sushchenko;
“Canada and Nuclear Non-Proliferation,” by Dr. Yevgenia Issraelyan; and
“Landscape as an Important Element of Canadian Identity,” by Mrs. Olga
Fedosyuk. But even listening to these apparently purely Canadian case studies
an informed listener could not help but feel that none of these issues were alien
to Russia.
Debates at the conferences demonstrated that there are many things that make
Canada especially attractive to Russian scholars. The two neighbouring
countries have much in common in terms of geography, climate, nature and
resource endowment. Both have vast territories and complex infrastructures.
They possess rich forest lands and water resources. They are great northern
countries and pay special attention to the development of communication,
mineral reserves and agriculture.
There is a strong interest in Russia regarding Canadian experiences in the areas
of federalism, federal-provincial relations and local government. Both
countries are multi-ethnic societies, and many Canadians are of Russian and
Ukrainian origin.
In the international arena Canada is known as an honest broker with a
particular capability for accommodating conflicting interests. Canada
pioneered peacekeeping, and is famous for her commitment to stay nonnuclear.
All this means that Russia and Canada are very much alike and can share each
other's knowledge and experience.
The Second Biennial RACS Conference was the largest gathering of
Canadianists ever held in Russia. It helped assess the present qualitative level
of Canadian Studies in Russia, exchange opinions, establish useful contacts
51
IJCS / RIÉC
with foreign Canadianists, and identify Russian researchers active in Canadian
Studies. Proceedings of the Conference are to be published in Moscow, and we
are hopeful that this will contribute to the development of Canadian Studies in
Russia, as well as in other country-members of the International Council for
Canadian Studies.
Notes
1.
2.
52
The various books cited below, in English, were, of course written in Russian and are
available only in Russian — ed.
All papers at the Moscow conference were delivered in English or French, and are available
in one of those two languages — ed.
John B. Hannigan1
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet
Union and Russia: A Natural Partnership?
Abstract
This paper explores the history of northern cooperation between Canada and
the USSR/Russia from the mid-1950s to 1993. It first examines why this
important dimension of Canadian-Soviet/Russian relations took so long to
launch. While there appeared to be many similarities that favoured
cooperation, differences in approach to northern development and a series of
foreign policy and security obstacles made agreement on a program of joint
activity difficult. Once begun in 1984, however, bilateral cooperative activity
expanded in the latter part of the 1980s to include new subject areas and
actors, leading to the 1989 signing of the Agreement on Cooperation in the
Arctic and the North. This relationship was reaffirmed in 1992 by the Russian
government subsequent to the disintegration of the Soviet Union. At that time,
there appeared to be a good footing for the continuation of this cooperation.
There was a greater range of common interests and no foreign policy or
security constraints. By the beginning of 1994, however, a lack of funding was
inhibiting further development of Canadian-Russian northern cooperation,
and emphasis was being placed on Canadian technical assistance to Russia
for northern development.
Résumé
L'article trace l'histoire de la coopération nordique entre le Canada et
l'URSS/Russie de 1950 jusqu'à 1993. En premier lieu, l'auteur examine
pourquoi cet important aspect de la relation entre le Canada et l'URSS/Russie
tarda à être mis sur pied. Quoiqu'il semblât y avoir plusieurs similitudes
favorisant la coopération, des différences d'approches quant au
développement nordique et une série d'obstacles sur le plan de la politique
étrangère et de la sécurité gênèrent la réalisation d'une entente de programme
d'activités conjoint. Or, une fois établi en 1984, le secteur de coopération
bilatéral prit de l'expansion jusqu'à la fin des années 1980 pour inclure de
nouveaux domaines et de nouveaux acteurs et aboutir, en 1989, à la signature
de l'Accord de coopération dans l'Arctique et le Nord. En 1992, à la suite de la
désagrégation de l'Union soviétique, le gouvernement russe réaffirma la
solidité de cette relation. Il semblait y avoir, à ce moment-là, une base ferme
qui assurerait la continuité de cette coopération, par exemple davantage
d'intérêts communs et aucune contrainte au niveau de la politique étrangère
ou de la sécurité. Par contre, dès le début de l'année 1994, un manque de fonds
entravait le développement de la coopération nordique du Canada et de la
Russie, et une plus grande insistance était mise sur une aide technique du
Canada
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
In the relatively small volume of literature published on Canadian-Soviet
relations in the post-war period, there are a few themes that recur: wheat,
hockey, spies and the North. Within the context of the northern theme, similar
climates and an abundance of mineral resources in northern regions made cooperation seem as natural as the coming of the dark, cold winter above the
Arctic Circle. Canada and the Soviet Union may have been adversaries along
the East-West divide, but they were also circumpolar neighbours; the Cold
War would not deter cold-climate cooperation.
One post-WWII Canadian view of northern neighbours was articulated in
1956 by R.A.J. Phillips, then executive officer in the Department of Northern
Affairs and National Resources: “There are two major Arctic powers in the
world today, and each is looking north as never before. They are the Soviet
Union and Canada. The Soviet Union and Canada are no longer separated by
the continent of Europe and the Atlantic Ocean. They are only a Pole apart.”2
Thirty-five years later, the Canadian government still subscribed to the theme
of northern affinity between Canada and the Soviet Union. A 1991 publication
of the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development noted that:
“Geographical, ecological and cultural similarities link Canada and the USSR
across the Pole.”3
The Canadian perspective on northern ties between Canada and the Soviet
Union (and now Russia) had not changed very much in three and one-half
decades. By 1991, however, there was a history of state-to-state, cooperative
projects on northern-related matters and several examples of tangible results
from joint research. The record therefore seems to show what everyone had
assumed: northern cooperation between Canada and the Soviet Union is a
natural outcome, evolving from similar geography, boreal ecology and
perhaps an intangible quality that one scholar has characterized as
“nordicity.”4
If it is accepted that a cold-weather partnership should come naturally to the
two countries, it may come as a surprise to learn that the first program of
northern cooperation between Canada and the Soviet Union was finalized only
in 1984,5 many years after numerous bilateral agreements in other areas had
been signed. Agreements on trade (mainly regarding wheat) and science came
in the latter part of the 1950s; the accord on the industrial application of science
and technology (INDEXAG) and the general exchanges agreement
(GENEXAG) were signed in 1971; and a long-term economic, scientific and
technical cooperation agreement was negotiated in 1976. Granted, there was
an Arctic component in the INDEXAG, notably with respect to cooperation in
oil and gas development and architecture, and GENEXAG did confirm that the
two countries were prepared to cooperate on Arctic matters. But an active
program of Arctic cooperation did not materialize until 1984.
If northern cooperation is so natural for the two countries, why did it take so
long to reach a formal arrangement? There are a number of reasons. Some
relate to the need to “stickhandle” the file through several layers of
bureaucracy, a time-consuming process that is often interpreted, not always
correctly, as stalling. Intransigent positions taken by certain institutions and
officials involved in the negotiations could also draw out the talks. For
54
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
example, the Soviet State Committee on Security (KGB) and the Soviet
Ministry of Defence undoubtedly objected to the participation of Canadian
scientists in research projects in the militarily sensitive northern regions of the
USSR.6 It is also possible that, despite ministerial visits by both sides in
support of northern cooperation, there was not enough backing generally
within the governments of both countries. As the Canadian Department of
External Affairs and the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs did not have the
lead on these negotiations, it is possible that one, or both, did not push for an
agreement as hard as they otherwise might have.
A number of other factors, not directly related to northern cooperation, also
arose during the course of the negotiations and set back the discussions. As part
of the Canadian government's response to the Soviet military invasions of
Czechoslovakia in 1968 and Afghanistan in 1979, negotiating with the Soviet
Union on any form of cooperation was out of the question around these time
periods. Officials at Canada's National Research Council, some of whom were
involved in the negotiations on northern cooperation, also refused to deal with
the Soviet Union when physicist and human rights advocate Andrei Sakharov
was exiled to the closed city of Gorky.
All of the above factors probably played a role, to varying degrees and at
different times, in extending the talks and making agreement difficult. There
is, however, another possible reason. This is simply that the shared interests
necessary for cooperative efforts were not as common as many had assumed.
There have been crucial differences in the two countries' approaches to
northern development,7 and at times these have overshadowed the similarities
and stood as obstacles to the negotiation of a bilateral program on northern
scientific cooperation.
The underlying premise of this argument is that attitudes and policies toward
northern development conditioned the general thrust, specific type and
colouring of the cooperation sought by the two countries. These attitudes and
policies were generally reflected in the priorities and objectives attached to
potential areas of cooperative endeavour. When the two countries' priorities
and objectives were dissonant, the chances for pursuing any meaningful
cooperation were slight.
Once cooperation began, however, it seemed to take on a life of its own and
expand into more areas that involved new actors. Whereas it took decades to
reach the initial understanding, the nature and scope of collaborative activity
changed noticeably and sometimes rapidly during the ten years from the
signing of the first program of northern scientific exchanges in 1984. Reasons
for this change in attitude will be examined.
Throughout this paper, the thematic focus is cooperation on science, the
environment, indigenous peoples and economic development. Military and
security issues will not be discussed directly, but it is recognized that these
constitute the ever-present backdrop to any examination of the history of
Canadian-Soviet northern relations.
55
IJCS / RIÉC
Post-World War II Natural Resource Boom and the Role of Science
Following the end of World War II, natural resource development in Canada
expanded rapidly to meet international demand. In the Soviet Union, the
industrialization drive begun in the latter part of the 1920s continued apace,
fueled in large part by the exploitation of its extensive natural resource base.
Both countries looked northward in their search for and development of
minerals and oil. This in turn necessitated the construction of transportation
infrastructure, settlements and sources of electric power.8
While the underlying philosophies of economic development were
antipathetic (the market versus central planning, and private versus state
ownership), both countries were applying post-war advances in science and
technology to facilitate the survey, exploitation and transportation of minerals
located in northern regions. There was, therefore, common ground for
northern cooperation in science and technology for natural resource
development.
By the mid-1950s, prior to the crushing of the October 1956 Hungarian
reforms by Soviet military forces, the political situation between East and
West had eased somewhat, opening up the potential for international
exchanges with the Soviet Union. It was in this more relaxed climate that
Lester B. Pearson, secretary of state for External Affairs, visited the Soviet
Union in October 1955 to discuss bilateral relations. Although northern issues
were not a high priority for the visit, the communiqué did note the possibility
for the “exchange of information on scientific research in Arctic regions.”9
The potential for cooperation with the USSR on northern scientific matters,
especially information exchanges, was raised again in 1959 by Prime Minister
John Diefenbaker. This suggestion was in keeping with his earlier “vision of
the North” speeches and Roads to Resources program.
These overtures by the Canadian government did not lead to any specifically
northern, cooperative activity. The National Research Council of Canada did
begin a program of exchanges in areas of pure science with the Soviet
Academy of Sciences in 1959, but there was no special emphasis on northern
issues. The lack of response from the Soviet government to Canadian
overtures for northern cooperation was probably related to security concerns
and suspicions about Canadian intentions.10 The underlying reason soon
became academic, however, as the Canadian government's attitude toward
developing relations with the USSR changed. By the beginning of the 1960s,
Diefenbaker had adopted a strong anti-communist stance, especially after the
U-2 incident in 1960 and the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. The possibility of
pushing for new cooperative arrangements with the USSR became remote.
The idea of northern cooperation with the Soviet Union was resurrected,
however, under the Pearson government. After months of efforts by the
Canadian government, ministerial visits to and from the Soviet Union on
northern-related matters were arranged in 1965. Arthur Laing, minister of
Northern Affairs and National Resources, travelled to the Soviet North at the
invitation of the Soviet State Committee for Construction, and a return Soviet
delegation toured northern Canada.11 The fact that the Canadian delegation
56
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
was permitted to travel to a few centres in the Soviet North seemed to mark a
changed attitude toward northern relations on the part of the new Soviet regime
under the leadership of Leonid Brezhnev and Aleksei Kosygin.
Ten years had elapsed between Lester Pearson's visit to the Soviet Union to
discuss bilateral issues and the ministerial visits on northern matters. During
this time, the focus for northern cooperation between the two countries had
essentially remained scientific. Natural resource development remained an
objective of these contacts, but other dimensions of scientific cooperation,
especially relating to environmental matters such as climatology and wildlife
preservation, were also being considered.
The prerequisites for a program of northern cooperation appeared to be falling
into place. The 1965 exchange of delegations provided the political will, and
science and technology remained the common substantive ground upon which
to build the contacts. Granted, the Soviet government was more interested in
gaining access to technology with industrial applications whereas Canada's
interest was generally in pure and applied science. But the prospects were
clearly more favourable than they had been for several years.
Following Mr. Laing's visit to the Soviet Union, the Department of Indian
Affairs and Northern Development (DIAND), successor department to
Northern Affairs and National Resources, followed up its interest in northern
cooperation by hiring a Russian-speaking analyst to monitor developments in
the Soviet North.12 In 1967, DIAND invited two delegations of Soviet
officials to come to Canada to visit some of the northern regions and explore
the potential for a bilateral exchange program.13 These talks were informal.
The anticipated movement toward formal talks was abruptly halted, however,
in the summer of 1968 when the Warsaw Pact countries, led by the Soviet
Union, invaded Czechoslovakia. At that time, Canada suspended all of its
scientific agreements with the Soviet Union.
In the latter part of 1969, however, attention was again turned to the question of
international cooperation with the Soviet Union, including northern
exchanges.14 This renewed interest led to the July-August 1971 visit by Mr.
Chrétien, minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, to the
northern regions of Siberia. During this trip, at a meeting with Mr. L.N.
Yefremov, first deputy chairman of the Soviet State Committee on Science
and Technology, there was mutual agreement that “a cooperative basis to
Arctic research was necessary.”15 Although scientific matters and natural
resource development remained important components of potential bilateral
collaboration, Mr. Chrétien also stressed cultural development and education
for northern peoples as areas for bilateral exchanges. This people-to-people
dimension was accentuated when Mr. Chrétien extended an invitation to the
Yakut government to send observers to the 1972 Arctic Winter Games in
Whitehorse, Yukon, and to make a Canadian Inuit art exhibit available for
display in the Soviet Union. A commitment was also made to supply musk-ox
from northern Canada in an attempt to re-introduce them to northern Russia.16
This venture, undertaken with the assistance of Inuit from Sachs Harbour,
proved successful.
57
IJCS / RIÉC
The extension of bilateral Arctic cooperation to socio-cultural themes
involving indigenous peoples was significant. On the domestic front, Canada
was in the midst of recasting its priorities in northern development and
redefining its stewardship and political authority over the northern territories.
These changes appeared to be influencing the kind of northern cooperation
Canada was seeking with the Soviet Union.
The Rise of Social and Environmental Issues in the 1960s and 1970s
In western democracies, the 1960s brought issues of human and civil rights
and environmental protection to the fore. Economic development was no
longer viewed as unconditionally good for society. What mattered was the
kind of economic activity, the distribution of wealth and power, and greater
respect for the natural environment. The Soviet Union, in contrast, remained
largely unaffected by such social and political pressures.17 With regard to
economic development, it was business as usual, which meant increasing
exploitation of natural resources.
In Canada, the noticeable shift in public attitude away from unbridled nonrenewable resource development influenced the government's policy on
northern development. In March 1972, Mr. Chrétien outlined the
government's new northern policy. In doing so, he noted the necessity of
balancing priorities between people, resources and the environment. But
meeting the needs of people was more important than resource development,
and economic activity had to maintain an ecological balance.18 The mid-1970s
public inquiry and subsequent moratorium on construction of a gas pipeline
along the Mackenzie Valley best exemplifies the consequences of this
changing attitude toward natural resource development in the north.19 In
contrast, the Soviet Union was pouring billions of rubles into the exploitation
and transportation of oil and gas out of the northern regions of West Siberia,
with essentially no regulatory process for environmental review.20
Changing policies toward northern development in Canada had a direct impact
on attitudes toward scientific activity in northern regions. This also influenced
approaches to international scientific cooperation. At a government seminar
on northern science, held about six months after Mr. Chrétien tabled the new
priorities for northern development, subject areas for international scientific
collaboration were identified according to those new objectives. Thus, most
attention was given to scientific study relating to people, the natural
environment and renewable resource development.21
In the Soviet Union, the role of science and technology in northern
development continued to be tied primarily to increasing the production of
natural resources. This was so fundamental to the Soviet economy that it was
referred to as an “economic law of socialism.”22 Economic development was
viewed in the context of overcoming obstacles. If resources were located in
remote, northern regions, then science would find a way to exploit, transport
and process those resources for the economic benefit of Soviet citizens. For the
Soviet Union, the North was a frontier that would continue to be conquered by
science and the economic laws of socialism.
58
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
At the beginning of the 1970s, therefore, Canada and the Soviet Union had
diverged in their respective approaches toward northern development and the
role of science within it. The common ground for cooperation that was more
evident during the 1955-68 period had shifted, and while certain interests were
still compatible, they were not as extensive as they had been.
It was within this new context that the ministerial visits of 1971-72 took
place.23 The political climate for Canadian-Soviet cooperation had rarely been
better, aided in part by the general relaxation in East-West relations.24 The
legal framework for an exchange program on northern science was also in
place since the two countries had signed a General Exchanges Agreement in
1971, under which scientific cooperation could be implemented.25 The
summer 1971 visit of Mr. Chrétien to the USSR sparked a rapid succession of
bilateral meetings between government officials to determine potential areas
for scientific exchanges. By November 1972, Canadian and Soviet negotiators
had identified seven areas of scientific cooperation. Significantly, the last two
related to the study of the contemporary life of northern indigenous peoples.26
After the seven areas had been identified, separate working groups met to
formulate programs of joint activity. This process continued over the next
three years, with numerous obstacles and differences arising along the way.
But the impasse which proved to be unbreakable was the part of the program
dealing with northern indigenous peoples. Soviet officials maintained that
joint projects in social and environmental sciences were too difficult to
coordinate in conjunction with the physical sciences.27 Canadian officials
cited its “people first” northern policy which necessitated a social science
component to northern cooperation. If this dimension were not included in the
program of exchanges, then the recently established Canadian government
objectives would not be met. Neither side compromised on its stand, and
negotiations ended in 1975.
This standoff illustrates some of the fundamental differences between the two
countries in their approach to northern development. By the early part of the
1970s, Canada saw northern development in terms of satisfying the needs of
northern residents while balancing economic activity with social and
ecological concerns. The Soviet Union was stuck in an economic development
framework wherein the study of the impact of industrialization on northern
indigenous peoples and the environment was not a priority, and may even have
been considered counterproductive. In this respect, the overriding interests
and priorities of the two countries were not harmonious.
Between 1975 and 1979, there was no movement on a specific program of
Canadian-Soviet northern cooperation, although there were some exchanges
with a northern focus that fell under the auspices of other bilateral agreements
such as INDEXAG. Even this limited activity came to a standstill, though, at
the end of 1979 when the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan and Canada
suspended all programs that fell under the formal, bilateral agreements.
59
IJCS / RIÉC
Implementing a Program of Northern Cooperation in the 1980s
Discussions between Canada and the Soviet Union on a program of northern
scientific cooperation resumed in 1982. Although Canadian-Soviet relations
were still frosty at this time, some of the mechanisms for bilateral exchanges
were being resuscitated and Canadian government officials were travelling to
the Soviet Union once again to discuss the resumption of cooperative
programs.28 In September 1982, during the visit of a Quebec delegation to
Siberia, the Canadian government delivered an Aide-mémoire to the Soviet
Union on the subject of “Cooperation in Arctic and Sub-Arctic Research.”29
This was presented to Soviet officials in response to their enquiries about
reviving the talks on northern scientific exchanges. Repeating its position of
the mid-1970s, the Canadian proposal included social science research in its
categories of interest.30 Other areas of potential cooperation were permafrost,
Arctic petroleum developments, oceanography, northern construction and the
environment. The Soviet Union agreed to discuss this proposal.
The reason for the Soviet Union's change in attitude toward the social science
component of the program has remained for the most part unanswered. Walter
Slipchenko, who had been involved in negotiations on this subject since the
mid-1960s, attributes the change to the promotion of Mr. Yuri Marchuk to the
chair of the Soviet State Committee on Science and Technology, to the
influence of Mr. Alexandr Yakovlev, the Soviet ambassador to Canada, and to
the leading role played by the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Mr.
Marchuk, head of the Soviet agency that would be responsible for
implementing an exchange program, was believed to be more flexible with
regard to international cooperation. As a Siberian and head of the Siberian
Branch of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, he was undoubtedly more attuned
to northern issues than his predecessor. Mr. Yakovlev's influence on Soviet
policy was rising again following the death of Leonid Brezhnev in November
1982. (Mr. Yakovlev, a leading Communist Party official, had earlier fallen
out of favour and been banished to Canada by Brezhnev.) In 1982, the Soviet
Ministry of Foreign Affairs was also more directly involved in the discussions
and appeared to be more positively disposed toward this type of cooperation, a
position which also may have been influenced by Mr. Yakovlev.31
While these developments undoubtedly underpinned the change in the Soviet
position toward cooperation on social issues, it is also possible that the new
approach was in part influenced by a reassessment within the Soviet Union of
its policies toward northern indigenous peoples. This can be deduced from
publications that appeared around the beginning of the 1980s. It suggests that
perceptible, albeit undramatic, shifts in domestic policy may have helped in
clearing the way to cooperate on social issues at the international level.
In 1980, a decree was issued by the Central Committee of the Communist Party
of the Soviet Union and the USSR Council of Ministers entitled, “On measures
for furthering the economic and social development of districts inhabited by
northern ethnic groups.”32 It admonished ministries to implement economic
programs in northern regions, to give greater attention to the traditional
economies of northern indigenous peoples, especially reindeer herding, and to
continue the assimilation of indigenous people to a settled way of life. Studies
60
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
published by institutes of the Soviet Academy of Sciences also indicated that
scientific research on the contemporary social situation of northern indigenous
peoples, as opposed to more neutral ethnographic studies, was becoming more
acceptable.33
To a considerable extent, the decree and the academic studies were typical of
Soviet documents of the time, including due recognition of the wisdom of
Leninist policies. They noted how successful Soviet policies had been in
advancing the living standards of indigenous peoples in the North, and
displayed concern over the lag in the development of a working class among
them. The authorities were unsatisfied with the progress by northern
indigenous people in adapting to a more settled lifestyle and establishing a
cadre of workers within Soviet institutions such as collective and state farms.
From the Soviet government's perspective, policies of socialization and
acculturation of northern ethnic groups were not achieving the desired results.
The decree accordingly directed authorities to complete the process of
transition of nomadic peoples to a settled way of life and even set a date of 1990
for this to be done.
The higher priority attached to social issues in northern development and the
scientific (empirical) approach being adopted by research institutes in the
study of those issues can be interpreted as a minor change in Soviet policy
toward northern development. The Soviet approach was still fundamentally
different from Canada's people-first policy, but it was an indicator that social
science and sociological study of northern indigenous peoples was on the
Soviet agenda of northern development issues. The acceptance of this as a
domestic issue made international cooperation in this area more feasible.
Regardless of why the Soviet Union was prepared in the early part of the 1980s
to negotiate a program of scientific cooperation that included sociological
studies of the contemporary situation of northern indigenous peoples, the
move meant that a major obstacle to reaching agreement in the mid-1970s was
removed. Talks reopened and in April 1984 a program of scientific
cooperation on Arctic and northern issues — which came to be known as the
Arctic Science Exchange Program — was signed. It included four major areas:
geoscience and Arctic petroleum; northern and Arctic environment; northern
construction; and ethnography and education.
The program had elements of pure science, technology, policy-related issues
and culture. The social dimension was concentrated primarily in the theme of
ethnography and education, which had topics of study ranging from
archaeology to the contemporary social problems of northern indigenous
peoples. Social issues were also apparent in programs dealing with the
northern environment, especially concerning the Arctic ecosystem and food
chains, and in construction, through an emphasis on the residential component.
The Soviet interest in access to northern technology was assured largely
through the theme on northern construction.
Northern cooperation between Canada and the Soviet Union was supposed to
have been a natural partnership. Yet it had taken three decades since Lester
Pearson raised the issue with senior Soviet officials before the common ground
61
IJCS / RIÉC
for an exchange program could be found. Bureaucratic processes,
international politics and security concerns were hindrances along the way, but
it was also the difficulty in reconciling disparate policies and attitudes toward
northern development that constituted a major stumbling block to the
realization of this cooperative program.
The Impact of Perestroika and New Thinking
After implementing the 1984 program, Canada and the Soviet Union remained
generally satisfied with the identified areas of northern cooperation. When
reviewing and renegotiating the Arctic Science Exchange Program in
February 1987, no changes were made to the broad thematic categories, and
although certain identified topics of collaboration had been dropped, new ones
were added. Leaders in both countries publicly cited the Exchange Program as
a positive model of cooperation.34
In general, the northern interests of Canada and the Soviet Union remained
compatible enough to pursue a range of joint projects. There were, however,
signs of change coming from both Canada and the Soviet Union that began to
cast a new light on bilateral cooperation on northern-related topics. Three
aspects of this new context can be identified: a broader thematic focus, new
actors and the rise of multilateral relations.
In the latter part of the 1980s, the possibility of expanding Canadian-Soviet
northern cooperation beyond the scientific domain was explored. This led to
the November 1989 signing of the bilateral Agreement on Cooperation in the
Arctic and the North. In addition to existing cooperation on scientific matters,
a new program area — northern economic development — was identified and
the topic relating to social issues was expanded to include cultural questions
and the facilitation of direct contacts between northern indigenous groups
living in the two countries.35
Another noticeable change in the nature of cooperation between the two
countries was that joint programs on northern-related themes were being
implemented that did not directly involve the national governments. Subnational governmental bodies were entering into cooperative arrangements,
for example, between Quebec and the Russian Soviet Federated Socialist
Republic, and between the Northwest Territories and the Yakut Soviet
Socialist Autonomous Republic. There was also a privately-sponsored
expedition involving a Soviet-Canadian team that skied across the North Pole;
and discussions took place on possible exchanges between universities in
Canada and the Soviet Union which specialize in northern and Arctic studies.
Northern relations were clearly expanding beyond the state-to-state level,
albeit with the assistance or as a result of the governmental agreements in place
between Canada and the Soviet Union.
The third dimension of the changing landscape of Canadian-Soviet northern
cooperation was the increasing importance attached to multilateral Arctic
relations. Negotiations at the multilateral level led to the creation of an
International Arctic Science Committee, and to a Declaration and Strategy on
Protection of the Arctic Environment.36 Canada and the Soviet Union are
62
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
parties to both. In addition, both countries were major actors in discussions on
the creation of an Arctic Council, an international organization of Arctic-rim
states proposed by Canada as a coordinating body for cooperative activity in
the Arctic.
The motivation for the revised Soviet perspective on northern cooperation lay
primarily in the Gorbachev-led new thinking in foreign policy, especially in
regard to Soviet attempts to engage Western countries in talks on arms
limitation in the Arctic. This is abundantly clear in the speech Gorbachev gave
in Murmansk on October 1, 1987.37 Concerns over military activities in the
northern regions were cited by Gorbachev as the primary reason for Arctic-rim
countries to come together to discuss security issues. Developing cooperation
in the north was seen as a way to establish safeguards for northern security. In
short, the underlying motive for a new Soviet emphasis on northern
cooperation stemmed mainly from foreign policy and security concerns.
In 1989-90, the Canadian government was prepared to promote and support a
wide range of Arctic or northern cooperation with the Soviet Union. In
addition to signing the 1989 Agreement on Arctic and Northern Cooperation,
which expanded the areas of joint activity and also encouraged contacts among
agencies and organizations outside of government, the two governments
signed a Memorandum of Understanding on Cooperation Relating to the
Prevention and Control of Arctic Marine Pollution. Other bilateral agreements
of November 1989, such as the one on environmental cooperation, also had the
potential to include northern-related matters. At the level of multilateral
negotiations dealing with the Arctic, the Canadian government made positive,
supportive contributions to the successful conclusion of the agreements for the
International Arctic Science Committee and the Declaration and Strategy for
Protection of the Arctic Environment.
By the summer of 1991, there were numerous avenues for governmental and
non-governmental bodies to cooperate with the Soviet Union on northern
issues, either within a bilateral or multilateral context. Some areas were wellestablished, such as scientific cooperation, while others were just getting off
the ground. Long-time proponents of Canadian-Soviet northern cooperation
could look at what had been wrought with a sense of real accomplishment.
The 1990s: From Soviet to Russian
The prospects for international cooperation with the Soviet Union became
clouded following the failed coup of August 1991, and the disintegration of the
Soviet Union by the end of the year. Even before the August 1991 coup
attempt, political turmoil in the Soviet Union was making the implementation
of bilateral programs more difficult. Organizations and officials that had been
responsible for northern cooperation were changing, lines of communication
were becoming increasingly fractured, administration was more problematic,
and funding was more uncertain. Much of the confusion related to the so-called
“war of laws” between the central authorities and the republics, and to the
political dog-fight between Mikhail Gorbachev and Boris Yeltsin.
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Joint research activity that had been established earlier under the Arctic
Science Exchange Program proceeded regardless of the turmoil, but efforts to
get new areas launched, such as economic cooperation, were proving to be
difficult. Regardless of the near standstill in the two governments' northern
cooperation on economic matters, northern-related commercial activity
between companies in Canada and the Soviet Union was increasing, thus
beginning to realize a potential that had long been anticipated.38 And in the
area of cultural relations, the Inuvik-based Inuvialuit Regional Corporation,
with political, administrative and financial support of the Government of the
Northwest Territories, was in the process of establishing working relationships
with northern indigenous groups (Yuit and Chukchi) in the Chukotka region of
the Far East. Thus, while state-to-state cooperation was encountering some
obstacles, non-governmental northern contacts were expanding.
The final disintegration of the Soviet Union in December 1991 cleared the way
for an affirmation and clarification of bilateral cooperation between Canada
and Russia. This was done initially in February 1992, with the signing by
Prime Minister Brian Mulroney and President Boris Yeltsin of the Declaration
of Friendship and Cooperation between Canada and the Russian Federation. In
the paragraph of the Declaration dealing with Arctic bilateral cooperation,
economic relations are identified as a priority, as is the promotion of “direct
contacts between local and regional governments and aboriginal peoples of
Northern Canada and Russia, on the basis of their working arrangements.”39
Scientific cooperation is not directly mentioned.
In June 1992, a new bilateral agreement on Cooperation in the Arctic and the
North was signed by the governments of Canada and the Russian Federation.
There were some changes to the structure and administration of the program
but, for the most part, the specific topics of cooperation remained unchanged.
Emphasis was again placed on economic cooperation. Does this mean, then,
that Canada's northern cooperation with Russia will proceed in much the same
way and with a similar emphasis as it had with the Soviet Union?
Although it is still early to judge, it would appear that direct state-to-state
cooperation at the national level will continue along established lines. This is
mainly because most of the joint projects currently underway were defined
more than a decade ago and although organizational affiliations may have
shifted, many of the individual participants on both sides remain the same.
There is, therefore, an established momentum to the functioning projects.
They can be expected to continue for the current term, that is, until 1997. Most
of this co-operation deals with scientific topics (including the social sciences),
construction and the education of aboriginal peoples. The shift toward
cooperation among local and regional governments, northern aboriginal
groups and non-governmental organizations, a trend which was noticeable in
the latter part of the 1980s, has also been retained.
Economic development has been identified in the 1992 agreement as a priority
for cooperative efforts. However, it may prove difficult to formulate and
implement cooperation in this area. In keeping with the main argument of this
paper, the chief reason relates to the question of common interests. The two
countries' approaches to northern economic development are largely
64
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
incompatible, regardless of Russia's attempts to move toward a market-based
economy. In Canada, and especially in the Northwest Territories, there is a
strong policy orientation toward community-level economic development and
keen interest in environmentally and socially sustainable development. In the
much more populated, extensively industrialised and mineral-rich Russian
north, policies on northern economic development will undoubtedly continue
to focus on the exploitation of oil and gas, minerals and forests. Russian
officials have also indicated that northern regions are overpopulated, and are
discussing the formulation of a policy aimed at “de-populating” the north.40
These are not the current priorities of northern development policies in
Canada.
Up to the latter part of the 1980s, cooperative activity was realized largely
through inter-governmental agreements; now, the possibilities for other forms
of cooperation involving non-governmental bodies are much greater. This
does not, however, diminish the need for state-to-state cooperation agreements
on northern issues. The role to be played by the national governments is
changing, though, and they will probably become more involved with the
facilitation and coordination of collaborative projects than as direct players.
The exception to this will remain in the areas of science and the environment,
where much of the research falls within the realm of the federal governments.
Another area where the Canadian government is directing its attention is
technical assistance. This is currently a major component of Canada's bilateral
relationship with Russia. In the early part of 1993, the government identified
northern development in Russia as one of the areas for such assistance to be
provided.41 Insofar as the program has $10 million in funding over a three-year
period, this dimension of the Canadian government's northern cooperation
with Russia may in the future become increasingly significant.
Conclusion
The question was raised at the outset about the degree to which northern
cooperation between Canada and the Soviet Union/Russia is a natural outcome
of geographic, ecological and cultural affinities. It was suggested that while
there are numerous similarities, differences in approach to northern
development could outweigh what was shared, with the result that cooperation
remained unrealized. This was especially apparent when Canada's northern
policy shifted in the early 1970s toward social and environmental issues.
When the Soviet government's attention toward the social issues of northern
indigenous peoples seemed to increase in the early part of the 1980s, the base
of shared interests expanded and the prospects for cooperation increased.
This more common base was not, however, sufficient to reach a final
agreement on a program of cooperation. Foreign policy and security concerns
also had to be conducive. These considerations frequently dominated the
question of cooperation along the way. This was apparent during 1955-68
when there was a relatively strong similarity in the two countries' northern
development policies but the Soviet Union was unwilling, undoubtedly for
security and foreign policy reasons, to respond to Canadian requests for
collaboration on northern matters. In 1968 and 1979, Canadian sanctions on
65
IJCS / RIÉC
the Soviet Union in response to the invasions of, respectively, Czechoslovakia
and Afghanistan temporarily froze any movement toward agreement. Foreign
policy was again predominant in the latter part of the 1980s, with the
endorsement by the Soviet government of northern co-operation in economic,
scientific and environmental areas, not due to changes in northern
development strategies but because it was part of an overriding foreign policy
objective to demilitarize the Arctic region.
Since the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Canadian-Russian northern cooperation has continued to develop along the lines broadly established in the
latter part of the 1980s. In principle, the extent of common interest between
Canada and Russia on northern development issues seems broad. Scientific
matters, although not the focus they were in previous decades, remain
important for both countries, especially in terms of their contribution to an
understanding of ecological problems in the Arctic region. The attention that
the Russian government is according northern aboriginal peoples, even if it
offers little in the way of resources for direct assistance, is closer to Canada's
than it has been previously. Even the question of aboriginal self-government is
now a subject for joint research. On the economic front, commercial relations
on northern-related projects, which are assisted in part by government
involvement, are already yielding benefits for both sides.
Nevertheless, while there seems to be a relatively sure footing for the two
governments to continue cooperation on northern topics, there is a strong
probability that the amount of joint activity on projects will decline because of
a lack of funding. In Canada, funding is increasingly being directed toward
technical assistance programs rather than scientific or cultural cooperation. In
Russia, there is simply a shortage of government funds to meet many of the
basic demands of the Russian population, let alone conduct a program of
international cooperation.
At the beginning of 1994, therefore, the fate of Canadian-Russian northern
cooperation is no longer dependent on the presence of common approaches to
northern development, or the clearing of foreign policy and security concerns.
Ironically, ten years into a program on Arctic exchanges, the predominant
inhibiting factor is the availability of funding.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
66
I would like to thank the Donner Canadian Foundation for the financial support to pursue
research on northern relations between Canada and the Soviet Union/Russia. I also want to
extend my special appreciation to Walter Slipchenko for discussing with me his first-hand,
twenty-five years' experience in negotiating with Soviet officials on Arctic cooperation.
This paper would not have been possible without his assistance. My thanks also go to Camil
Simard of the Circumpolar Liaison Directorate of the Department Of Indian Affairs and
Northern Development for his comments.
R.A.J. Phillips, “Canada and Russia in the Arctic,” Behind the Headlines, vol. XVI, no. 4,
October 1956, p.1.
Building International Relations in the Arctic: 25 Years of Canada-USSR Cooperation,
Ottawa: Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, 1991.
Louis-Edmond Hamelin, Canadian Nordicity: It's Your North, Too, Montreal: Harvest
House, 1979. (Translation of Nordicité canadienne.)
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
This was the Protocol of Canadian-Soviet Consultation on the Development of a Programme
of Scientific and Technical Cooperation in the Arctic and the North, signed on 16 April 1984
in Moscow.
The roles of these two organizations in the negotiations have not yet been publicly discussed,
to the best of this author's knowledge.
As used here, the term “development” refers primarily to the introduction of new economic
activity into a region and the resultant growth in population and settlements. It also takes into
account the impacts on societies, cultures and the environment. It is actual differences in
policies and programs of development, rather than ideological diversity, that will be
examined.
For a summary of natural resource development in the Canadian North, see Morris Zaslow,
The Northward Expansion of Canada, 1914-1967, Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1988,
pp. 234-260. The Soviet history is given in S.V. Slavin, The Soviet North: Present
Development and Prospects, Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1972. For a geographical
comparison of the northern regions of the two countries see, James R. Gibson, “The
Canadian and Russian Northlands: Critical Contrasts,” North/Nord, March/April 1973, pp.
11-22.
As cited in R.A.J. Phillips, “Canada and Russia in the Arctic,” op. cit., p. 11.
The reasons behind Soviet reluctance to respond to Diefenbaker's suggestion for northern
cooperation have not, to this author's knowledge, been definitely determined. The most
probable reason is that the northern regions were strategically important for the defence of
both countries, and Canada's signing of the NORAD agreement with the U.S.A. in 1958
raised Soviet concerns about Canadian intentions for cooperation on northern issues.
Walter Slipchenko, “Canada-USSR Arctic Science Exchange Programme: An historical
Perspective of Arctic Cooperation,” in Lawson W. Brigham, ed., The Soviet Maritime
Arctic, Annapolis, Maryland: Naval Institute Press, 1991, pp. 235-257.
The analyst was Walter Slipchenko, a specialist in cold-weather engineering. Hired in 1965,
Mr. Slipchenko worked in DIAND for the next 25 years, remaining directly involved in the
negotiation and implementation of a program on northern cooperation between Canada and
the Soviet Union.
There was one delegation of permafrost specialists and another from the State Committee for
Construction. Walter Slipchenko, Siberia 1971, A Report on the Visit of the Honourable
Jean Chrétien. Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development and Official
Delegation to the Soviet Union, July-August 1971, Ottawa: Information Canada, 1972,
p. 94.
Ibid, p. 94.
Ibid, p. 95.
Ibid, p. 95.
There was some concern in the Soviet Union over industrial pollution, which reached a
tunning point in the latter part of the 1960s and early 1970s, with the public and scientific
community's reaction to the increasing environmental degradation of Lake Baikal. But its
extent did not approach that in western democracies.
“A Report to the Standing Committee on Indian Affairs and Northern Development on the
Government's Northern Objectives, Priorities and Strategies for the 70's,” Introductory
Remarks by the Honourable Jean Chrétien, Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern
Development. Included as Annex 2 in, Science and the North (A Seminar on Guidelines for
Scientific Activities in Northern Canada 1972), Ottawa: Information Canada, 1973, p. 273.
Mr. Justice Thomas R. Berger, Northern Frontier, Northern Homeland, (The Report of the
Mackenzie Valley Pipeline Inquiry), Ottawa: Supply and Services Canada, 1977.
Oil and gas were discovered in the Middle Ob' region of West Siberia in the 1950s, with
large-scale development taking place in the 1960s and 1970s. During that time, little was
known about the actual environmental measures being practised by the oil and gas
industries, but there was considerable speculation and several indications that the situation
was deplorable. See, for example, Zeev Wolfson, “The Environmental Risk of Developing
the Oil and Gas Industry in Western Siberia,” Research Paper No. 52, Soviet and East
European Research Centre, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem October 1983. Since
Gorbachev's policy of glasnost and the disintegration of the Soviet Union, there is
widespread evidence of the extent of environmental destruction in this area caused by oil and
67
IJCS / RIÉC
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
68
gas development. See, Lina Zelikman, “A Large-scale Ecological Disaster is Threatening
from the North,” Environmental Policy Review, vol. 8, no. 2, July 1989, pp. 1-8; and Piers
Vitebsky, “Gas, Environmentalism, and Native Anxieties in the Soviet Arctic: The Case of
Yamal Peninsula,” Polar Record, vol. 26, no. l56, 1990, pp. 19-26.
Science and the North, Ottawa: Information Canada, 1973, pp. 27-30.
One Soviet northern specialist wrote in the early part of the 1970s: “The basic economic law
of socialism—the law of the continuous growth and improvement of socialist production on
the basis of superior techniques for the purpose of satisfying to the fullest the constantly
growing material and cultural requirements of the whole of society—determines the need to
draw new raw material and power resources into economic use.” See S.V. Slavin, op. cit.,
p. 60.
The year after Mr. Chrétien travelled to the Soviet north, Mr. I.T. Novikov, deputy chairman
of the USSR Council of Ministers and chairman of the State Committee on Construction
toured the Canadian north.
See the discussion of Canadian-Soviet relations in the early part of the 1970s in Leigh Sarty,
Detente, Cold War, and Perestroika: Canadian-Soviet Relations Since 1980, Occasional
Paper No.1, Centre for Canadian-Soviet Studies, Carleton University, Fall 1991, pp. 5-7.
Canadian-Soviet cooperation on topics related to northern science could also have fallen
under the Industrial Exchanges agreement, signed in the same year. The Soviet Union
actually wanted this, but the Canadian government preferred to see northern scientific
cooperation placed under the General Exchanges Agreement, at least in part to strengthen
the content of that agreement.
For details of the negotiations and list of areas of co-operation. see Walter Slipchenko.
“Canada-USSR Arctic Science Exchange Programme”, op. cit, pp. 236-240.
Ibid, p. 240.
Leigh Sarty, op. cit., p. 18.
Walter Slipchenko. Notes on Visit to Siberia with Quebec Delegation, September 1-15. 1982
(unpublished, draft text).
Ibid. Specifically, the Aide-Mémoire cited four topics under the general heading of social
and ethnographic developments in the Arctic: “northern occupations and traditional
pursuits, northern education, satellite communications systems technology for northern
education, and demographic research on northern peoples.”
Interview with Walter Slipchenko. December 28, 1993.
“Postanovlenie Tsentral'nogo Komiteta KPSS i Soveta Ministrov SSSR o merakh po
dal'neishemu ekonomicheskomu i sotsial'nomu razvitiyu raionov prozhivaniya narodnostei
severa”, in Sobranie postanovlenii pravitel'stva Soyuza Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh
Respublik, No. 7, 1980, pp. 155-163.
One such study is Vladimir I. Boiko. ed., BAM i Narody Severa, Novosibirsk: Institute of
History, Philology and Philosophy, Siberian Branch of the Academy of Sciences, 1979.
Another example is Ethnic Groups of the North: Problems and Prospects for Economic and
Social Development, a translation from Russian of the published collection of summaries,
reports and presentations from an All-Union scientific conference held in Novosibirsk in
Oclober 1983. Four institutes of the USSR Academy of Sciences sponsored the conference:
the Institute of History, Philology and Philosophy, the Institute for Medical Problems of the
North, the Scientific Research Institute for Agriculture in the Far North, and the Institute of
Ethnography. (The unedited translation was done by the Secretary of State, Ottawa, Canada
for information only. There is no published version.)
In the June 1986 Report of the Special Joint Committee on Canada's International Relations,
called Independence and Internationalism, it was noted that “an arctic exchange program
with the Soviet Union is an effective way to increase Canadian knowledge of the north as
well as provide a basis for improving East-West relations” (p. 156). In October 1987,
Mikhail Gorbachev, in his “Murmansk Speech,” cited the example of the Arctic sciences
exchange program between the Soviet Union and Canada as a positive development in
circumpolar relations. See, The North: A Zone of Peace, Ottawa: Press Office of the USSR
Embassy, 1988, p. 9.
See Article 1, Agreement between the Government of Canada and the Governmnent of the
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on Cooperation in the Arctic and the North, 20
November 1989.
Canada's Northern Cooperation with the Soviet Union and
Russia: A Natural Partnership?
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
See, “Protection of the Arctic Environment—Declaration and Strategy Signed” and “IASC
and its Role in International Science in Arctic Regions,” in MAB Northern Sciences Network
Newsletter, No. 2, October 1991, pp. 8-14.
See The North: A Zone of Peace, op. cit. It is possible that Alexandr Yakovlev, then a key
advisor to Gorbachev, had a hand in the crafting of the speech.
See, Business Opportunities in the Soviet North, A Report based on the Proceedings of a
Workshop held in Whitehorse, Yukon, October 3, 1991, Report 91-03, Circumpolar and
Scientific Affairs Division, Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, 1991; and Carl H.
McMillan, “Joint Ventures in Arctic Resource Development,” in Northern Perspectives,
vol. 16, no. 4, 1988, pp. 17-19.
Declaration of Friendship and Co-operation between Canada and the Russian Federation,
February 1, 1992, paragraph 6.
This policy was announced by Vladimir Kuramin, Chair of the Russian State Committee for
the Social and Economic Development of the North, at the Sixth Congress of People's
Deputies of the Russian Federation. Foreign Broadcasting Information Service, Central
Eurasia: Daily Report, (FBIS-SOV-92-078-S), April 22, 1992. p. 34.
Press release of the Office of the Prime Minister, “Canada Urges Greater Assistance to
Russia,” April 2, 1993.
69
Mary Ann Van Meenen
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward the Native Peoples of
Siberia and the Northwest Territories
Abstract
Educational systems for the northern native peoples of the Soviet Union and
Canada were created when the respective governments independently decided
to develop the regions occupied by these peoples. Efforts were made to build
modern school systems but within the context of government interests and
objectives which either partially or totally took precedence over those of the
native peoples. This paper provides an historical tracing of government
policies, their implementation, the results and common problems which afford
the opportunity to juxtapose two different approaches without attempting a
direct, comparative analysis. The focus is on the Chukchi and Eskimosy of
northeastern Siberia and the Inuit of the Northwest Territories. The position is
adopted that, however well intentioned government polices were toward their
northern native peoples, the interests of these peoples were suborned to the
objectives of the governments and concludes that while an educational system
that accommodates the native peoples has been put in place in both countries it
has not and does not address their needs.
Résumé
Les systèmes d'éducation des peuples autochtones du Nord de l'Union
soviétique et Nord du Canada ont été créés lorsque les gouvernements
respectifs de ces deux pays décidèrent de développer les régions qu'occupaient
ces peuples. Des initiatives gouvernementales ont établi des systèmes
scolaires modernes, mais dans un contexte où les intérêts et objectifs des
gouvernements avaient en partie ou en totalité la préséance sur ceux des
peuples autochtones. Le présent article trace l'historique des politiques
gouvernementales, leurs applications, leurs résultats et les problèmes
communs qui en découlèrent. Celui-ci permet à l'auteure de juxtaposer deux
approches différentes sans toutefois faire d'analyse comparative qui soit
directe. L'étude porte sur les Chukchi et les Eskimosy du nord-est de la Sibérie
et les Inuit des Territoires du Nord-Ouest. L'auteure adopte le point de vue
que, aussi bien intentionnée que fût les politiques gouvernementales envers les
peuples autochtones, les intérêts de ceux-ci ont été subornés par les objectifs
des gouvernements, et bien que des systèmes scolaires adaptés aux peuples
autochtones aient été mis sur place dans les deux pays, ils n'ont jamais su
répondre aux besoins de cette population.
Until the 20th century, the native peoples of the Arctic regions of Siberia and
the Canadian Northwest Territories (NWT) lived in geo-political isolation.
Official Russian and Canadian attitudes toward these peoples were based upon
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
policies of non-interference. In this environment, centuries-old traditions and
customs continued without significant exposure to external values or beliefs.
This changed when their respective governments recognized the economic
and strategic significance of the Arctic.
Motivated by issues of sovereignty and the desire to develop natural resources,
both governments formulated policies to extend their influence into the North.
These policies included plans to minimize the impact of the ensuing
encroachment upon the indigenous populations by having them participate in
the development. Education was considered the most expedient and efficient
means of preparing the natives peoples for the impending changes.
Accordingly, the Soviet Union and Canada focussed on the creation of
educational systems in the north, albeit from different ideological perspectives
and more than twenty years apart.
The educational systems were designed by government officials and reflected
their values and objectives. Consequently, the native peoples existed within
social frameworks in which government interests often appeared to take
precedence. In response, the native peoples struggled for social parity with
little influence in how they were governed.
The following discussion provides a history of the considerations that
prompted the Soviet and Canadian governments to establish educational
systems for their northern native peoples, outlines the strategies used to
implement them and traces their development to 1990. Although there are 26
Siberian nationalities1 and legislation is directed toward them as a group, this
essay focusses upon the Chukchi and Eskimosy of Northeastern Siberia, and
upon the Inuit of the Canadian NWT.2
Soviet Educational Policies: 1917 to 1948
Until the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, missionaries provided all schooling in
Siberia. These schools were small, underfunded and served about one percent
of the population. Instruction focussed on religious teaching, basic counting,
elementary grammar and some guidance on hygiene. It was rare for any
student to advance beyond basic levels.3
The signal for change among Siberian native peoples occurred with the
Bolshevik rise to power in October 1917. The process began formally on 15
November with the “Declaration of the Rights of the Peoples of Russia” which
proclaimed the “free development of national minorities and ethnic groups
populating Russian territory.”4
From the outset, the primary objective of the Soviet government was to
consolidate power through economic stability and the spread of socialism. The
development of Siberia was an integral component of the strategy but its native
population — considered by Bolshevik standards to be culturally,
economically and politically backward — posed a problem. After debating the
benefits of isolating the native peoples on reservations, ultimately they were
included in the planned development. Since the “correct” education would
both integrate the native peoples into socialism and provide them with the
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
necessary training to participate in the development of their homelands, the
government initiated plans to establish a school system throughout Siberia.
Initially, civil war and the ensuing foreign intervention limited government
activity in Siberia. Effective action on behalf of the Chukchi and Eskimosy
was not possible until control of Chukotka was established in 1923.5
The creation of the educational system in Siberia began in 1924 with the
formation of the Committee of Assistance to the Small Peoples of the North
commonly known as the Committee of the North. This Committee was
mandated to institute programs, including education, to help the native peoples
advance in accordance with Soviet expectations.6
The People's Commissariat for Education had passed a decree in 1918 which
stated that “all nationalities living in the RSFSR had the right of education in
their own language.”7 This posed a problem because the native languages had
no written forms and few of the native peoples had any knowledge of Russian:
in 1926-27, eleven percent of the Chukchi and 1.6 percent of the Eskimosy
were able to converse in Russian.8 Literacy levels9 were even lower with 77 of
12,331 Chukchi and 128 of 1,292 Eskimosy considered literate.10 For the
entire native population, literacy rates varied from 0 to 3-4 percent for nomads
and approximately 10% for the settled population.11 Since most teachers were
Russian, a fundamental requirement was to eliminate the language barrier
between teachers and students, a factor which posed a serious disruption to the
educational process until the 1930s.12
Despite these problems, a school system following the curriculum of Russian
schools was initiated. In 1926, a special syllabus was issued,13 followed by the
first ABC book (primer) and the first reading text; all were in Russian but
designed for use in northern schools.14 Work also began on the creation of
alphabets. The preparatory work was entrusted to a special commission that
included members of the Commissariat for Education and the Academy of
Sciences. By 1932, written forms based on Latin were produced for thirteen
languages. To ensure their dissemination, the New Alphabet Committee was
established.15 In addition, with the assistance of representatives of the native
peoples, the creation and publication of textbooks and literature was
undertaken.16 By the end of 1932, the first primers in the Chukchi and
Eskimosy languages had been issued.17
Special programs were also initiated to train Russians and selected members of
the native population in all professions, including teachers, for service in the
North. The process began in 1925 with nineteen northern people, representing
eleven northern nationalities, attending Leningrad University. In 1926, a
special Northern Faculty to train northern peoples was organized at the
Leningrad Oriental Institute and in its first year, 74 students from among the
native peoples were enrolled.18 In 1929-30, the Northern Peoples Institute was
organized in Leningrad. In 1930, it accepted 195 students representing 19
nationalities.19 The Herzen Pedagogical Institute in Leningrad, which also
trained people for work in the North,20 had a basic five-year course which
included study of native languages, ethnography and geography of the
North.21
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Schools began opening in Siberia in 1925. Six opened that year and by 1927
there were 56. By 1930, there were approximately 123 northern schools
educating an estimated 20 percent of school-age children,22 with about 300
children from the indigenous populations attending the 11 schools in
Chukotka.23
In 1930, the XVI Congress of the All-Union Communist Party adopted a
resolution to introduce universal compulsory education.24 Its implementation
in the North in 1931 launched an extensive school building program. As a
result, by 1933-34, there were 37 schools in Chukotka.25 The number of
schools in the North had increased to 338 with an estimated attendance level of
60 percent.26 In 1934, literacy in Chukotka was estimated at 17 percent27 and
for all northern peoples, 24.9 percent.28
Attendance levels varied among regions, depending upon the availability of
schools and the willingness of parents to ensure their children's participation.
Nomadic people were particularly reluctant because their children provided
essential labour services and prolonged separation from home denied children
the opportunity to learn traditional occupations. Two factors increased
attendance: collectivization which freed children from domestic duties29 and
the appearance of teachers with shared or similar ethnic backgrounds.30
Populations in the more remote regions remained, to a large extent, outside
Soviet influence. Consequently, the Committee of the North created Cultural
Bases. These “cultural emissaries” introduced educational, medical, technical
and social facilities to the native peoples.31 The first cultural base was
organized in 1927 and, by 1935, there were fifteen operating in the North with
three in Chukotka.32 The majority of workers in these complexes endured
severe hardships, including shortages of essential supplies. Workers often
spent more time ensuring their survival than discharging their duties.33 Red
Tent organizations, which had the same general function as cultural bases,
were established in the sparsely inhabited areas of Siberia for nomads. These
tents were usually found either at trading stations or travelling with nomad
populations.34
In 1934, a program was adopted that called for instruction in the native
languages during the first two years of school with Russian studied as a second
language. From the third grade, Russian became the language of instruction
with the native language used only for explanation.35 However, a shortage of
textbooks and teachers with the requisite language skills prevented full
implementation of the program.36
By the mid 1930s, some of the early goals of the northern educational system
had been achieved with the training of teachers, building of schools and
dissemination of written languages. Any assessment of these successes
should, however, be tempered with an appreciation of the deficiencies. In
1936, for example, two-thirds of planned school construction remained
uncompleted, publication of native language literature had ceased, and there
was a serious shortage of teachers.37 Moreover, about 70 percent of illiterate
adults in the North were not attending classes.38
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
The educational system suffered a short-term reversal on February 11, 1937
when a government decree replaced the Latin alphabet used for native
languages with one based on Cyrillic letters.39 This conversion was intended
to provide the northern and Russian peoples with a common alphabet since the
two-alphabet system presented difficulties for children.40 However, the new
alphabet resulted in the destruction of a large amount of printed material in the
native languages.41 Allegedly, it eliminated the progress of literacy in the
North.42 After 1937, only seven written languages, including Chukchi and
Eskimosy, were developed.43
On March 13, 1938, a subsequent decree introduced the compulsory study of
Russian as a second language in schools. The purpose was to provide a
common language and to allow minority groups access to scientific
knowledge which as a rule was published only in Russian.44
Notwithstanding the problems inherent in the educational system, by 1939,
literacy levels in Chukotka for people aged 9 to 49 had risen to 46.8 percent45
and an estimated 74.4 percent of school-age children were attending school.46
Exigencies caused by World War II limited the advancement of the school
system in Siberia. While the number of schools increased, teacher training was
disrupted and native language publications ceased.47 However, in the post-war
period, the northern school system continued to expand. By 1948, national
schools were operating throughout the North48 and the introduction of
universal primary education was complete.49
Canadian Educational Policies to 1960
Until World War I, government activity in the Canadian North was limited to
exploratory expeditions and the establishment of three police posts to enforce
laws and collect customs.50 After the war, the number of police posts increased
and annual ship patrols were made to the Eastern Arctic. Inuit education was
left to Anglican and Catholic missionaries with government involvement
limited to the provision of annual grants.51
In 1929, the Anglican Church opened the first boarding school for the Inuit52
and by 1937 seven such schools operated in the Arctic.53 The missionaries at
each school established the curriculum and decided the method of instruction:
some taught in the native languages while others prohibited its use.54 The
primary objective, one that conformed with the government's policy of
keeping “the natives, native,” was to teach Christian values, not to provide a
formal education.55
The government regarded formal education for the Inuit as unnecessary. This
view was based on four principal suppositions: the Inuit were able to earn a
living through the traditional methods of hunting, fishing and trapping;
education would disrupt their lifestyles; employment requiring education was
virtually non-existent and informal education was available for the Inuit at the
day or residential schools of various church missions.56
The first major change in government attitudes toward the Inuit occurred
during World War II. As the strategic importance of the Arctic increased and
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Canada entered into joint projects with the United States, the Canadian
government became increasingly aware of the problems of the Inuit. These
problems were largely related to the enhanced contact with white culture. The
government's solution was to educate the Inuit to enable them to adapt to the
impending changes.
The process of bringing education to the North began formally in 1944 with a
review of the ownership and operation of schools. This led to a survey of the
educational facilities in the Mackenzie District of the NWT.57 The
appointment in 1946 of an Inspector of Schools constituted the initial step in
the creation of an educational system in the NWT.58 The following year a subcommittee was set up to advise government on educational policy and further
surveys were undertaken throughout the Arctic.59
In 1947, the first government school for the Inuit opened at Tuktoyaktuk.60
Attendance, which was not compulsory, was at best inconsistent. In many
cases, it was left to the discretion of the child.61 To overcome the general
ambivalence of the Inuit toward education, “welfare teachers” were
introduced. These teachers were to conduct regular school duties and serve as
leaders in the community. In return for added remuneration, they were also
expected to remain in the community for the entire year.62 Their mandate
included encouraging the Inuit to learn English while helping them to retain
pride in their own culture and language.63
At this time, lack of a defined policy limited activity to the construction of
schools and resolving problems as they arose.64 Nevertheless, by 1950, in
addition to mission schools, there were six federal schools serving the Inuit in
the NWT65 though most offered less than 16 hours of classes a week.66 In that
year, 117 Inuit were receiving full-time schooling.67 The literacy rate in
English was an estimated five percent.68
In 1952, the Eskimo Affairs Committee was created with the goal of devising
ways to help the Inuit adapt to changes that were occurring in the Arctic. Later
that year, a sub-committee on education, which served in an advisory capacity
to the main committee, was formed. It consisted of professional educators and
representatives from church and government. At their first meeting, the subcommittee members agreed that though the Inuit economy was limited to
hunting, fishing and trapping they should not be permitted to remain illiterate.
Specifically, the Inuit “should be furnished with that degree and kind of
education which will enable them to live a fuller life in their own environment
and, at the same time, be able to take advantage of opportunities which may
arise from the encroachment of outside civilization.”69 The methods included
itinerant teachers travelling from camp to camp, building residential schools,
tent hostels which reflected the traditional lifestyle and summer schools in
settlements where the summer population warranted it but the winter
population did not.70
During the early 1950s, the curricula, based on southern standards, varied
among schools but included reading, writing, arithmetic “and such other
subjects as it is found possible to introduce.”71 The Book of Wisdom, a manual
that the government published for the Inuit in 1947, was also widely used.72 In
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
addition, film strips had been distributed and part-time schools were supplied
with lessons for the first two grades.73
As of 1954, about fifteen percent of Inuit children were attending federal
schools with 400 more receiving instruction in part-time mission schools.74
These low numbers were, in part, the result of the government's dilemma
between educating the Inuit and leaving them to their traditional lifestyles,
and, in part, to the fact that the cost to government and inconvenience to the
Inuit did not justify providing schools in remote areas.75
Throughout this period, the Inuit standard of living continued to deteriorate.
Relief payments increased from $10,800 in 1945-46 to $158,000 in 1953-54, a
problem which stemmed primarily from the decline of the fur trade by 75
percent from 1950-51 to 1953-54.76 This situation demoralized the Inuit and
placed a tremendous financial burden on the government. This occurred at a
time when the government was making plans for the development of the
Arctic, and was increasing its defence profile in the area. The government
believed that the economic problems of the Inuit could be resolved if they
received the education necessary to allow them to participate in these
activities.
Accordingly, in 1955, the government announced a six-year program for
school construction with priority given to areas with potential for wage
employment, especially the Mackenzie District. It included the provision of
education to children outside the system either because their parents lived a
nomadic existence or their area was too remote with too few students to justify
the cost. To accommodate these students, boarding schools were to be built:
primarily in the Mackenzie District with one in the eastern Arctic.77
In addition, a three-person staff was employed to devise a suitable curriculum
for northern schools. They were to create three curricula: academic, intended
for children who would complete high school; all-purpose, for children whose
stay in school would be limited; and pre-vocational, designed to produce
skilled trades people.78 The next year the mandate was extended to design a
basic English program for adult instruction and trial programs for teaching
English in Inuit schools.79 Nevertheless, by 1957, a satisfactory curriculum
had yet to be developed. At the eighth meeting of the sub-committee on
education on April 11, 1957, a recommendation was made to set up a subcommittee to study the planning of the curriculum. Although established on
May 8, 1958, its first meeting did not occur until May 1959.80
Up to this point, the Inuit had not been consulted on any part of their
educational system. This attitude changed to some extent in 1959 when the
government invited Inuit representatives to attend the tenth meeting of the
Eskimo Affairs Committee. The Inuit participants agreed that their way of life
was changing and education was essential if they were to benefit from the
changes.81
At the same meeting the option of teaching the Inuit in their native language
was discussed. The Sub-committee on Education, in 1954, had recommended
that children from remote areas should be taught in their native language,
especially for the first two years.82 The following arguments were used against
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the recommendation: specifically that the native language would have to be
modified to address the technical age, there was a lack of teachers with
knowledge of the native language, and learning in the native language would
be a deterrent to entering wage employment or advanced education.83 At that
time, most Inuit were literate in their own language84 and the estimated
literacy rate of the Inuit in English was eight percent.85 Nevertheless, English
continued as the language of instruction. However, to focus special attention
on Inuit cultural values, the government began publication of a native
language magazine (Inuktitut).86
By 1960, the Canadian government was still attempting to define an allencompassing policy for Inuit education. The official policy was to provide
schools in areas with sufficient population to justify them. Boarding schools
were established for children who lived in settlements without schools, for
nomadic groups and for secondary education needs. As a result, in 1960, there
were about 230 Inuit children attending boarding schools at Inuvik in the
western Arctic and approximately 82 at Chesterfield Inlet in the eastern
Arctic.87 In total, 60 percent of Inuit children had access to educational
facilities either from the 25 full-time federal schools or the 17 part-time
mission schools.88
Soviet Educational Policy: 1948 to 1980
Until the post-war period, the principal focus of the northern educational
system had been the creation of primary educational facilities. With this
accomplished, the government shifted emphasis to other components of the
system, particularly teacher training and teaching programs. In 1948, a special
faculty for northern peoples was organized at Leningrad University, with a
department of Russian as well as departments for northern languages,
literature, history, ethnography, economics and geography. A Northern
Department was also established at the Herzen Institute in Leningrad.89
Courses at this institute included “Foundations of Marxism-Leninism,” and
“Stalin on Questions of Linguistics,” as well as lessons in teaching the
grammar of native languages.90 A department for training teachers for the
North was also opened at the Institute of Education at Khabarovsk.91 As of
1949, 40 percent of teachers in northern schools were recruited from the
North.92
During 1945-48, native-language and Russian textbooks for preparatory and
primary classes and new programs for native language teaching were
introduced93 including a preparatory class for children who did not know
Russian.94 In addition, northern schools were divided into four types
according to the extent of native-language instruction which depended upon
the ethnic composition of the student body and the availability of native
language textbooks. Based upon these criteria, in the majority of schools all
instruction was in Russian. In those schools with native language instruction
(national schools), it was limited to the preparatory, first and second grades.95
In all schools, from grade five, the standard Russian syllabus was used.96
Throughout the 1950s, the factor which dominated language policies for
northern schools was the shift in demographics. The expansion of industrial
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
development had led to an extensive in-migration of workers from other areas
of the USSR so that by the end of the decade the native peoples were minorities
in all national districts.97 In Chukotka, according to the 1959 census, native
peoples accounted for only 26 percent of the population and fell to eleven
percent by 1975.98 This led to a further growth in Russian and ethnically mixed
schools and a decline in the number of national schools. For example, in the
ten-year period between 1947 and 1957, the number of schools in Chukotka
remained relatively the same though the number of national schools declined
from 55 to 32.99 Thus fewer and fewer native peoples were being taught in
their native languages.
During 1957-1958, the government issued a number of decrees intended to
promote the development of the northern native peoples. The first, issued on
March 16, 1957, called for an increase in native language publications,100 the
training of more native peoples, the elimination of illiteracy and an expansion
of the school system.101 Subsequent legislation in 1959, “On reinforcing the
connection between school and life and the further development of the
educational system in the RSFSR,” provided the option for parents to choose
the language in which their children would be taught if teachers were available
and there were sufficient children to form classes.102
Notwithstanding these initiatives, after 1957, the common practice was to
follow the trends existing within the rest of Soviet society103 and educational
legislation for the North became little more than a paper exercise.
Subsequently, teachers, throughout the North, punished children if they spoke
any language but Russian at school. Parents were asked not to speak their
native language to their children to assist the children in adapting to the “future
mono-ethnic Soviet state.”104
One area of policy that remained relatively consistent was the teacher training
program. Between 1952 and 1969, over 700 teachers from the northern
peoples were trained at the Herzen Institute.105 Significant training also took
place in the national areas: the teachers' college at Anadyr trained more than
one-third of the 870 teachers working in Chukotka in 1967.106 As of 1970,
there were 5,950 teachers with advanced education working in the north,
including 1,500 members of the northern nationalities.107
The continuous training of teachers from the northern nationalities did not
translate into increased instruction in native languages. By 1970, only one of
the 26 northern languages was used for instruction and this was limited to
primary grades. Chukchi and Eskimosy were taught as subjects but most
native languages played no role in the educational process.108 As of 1972, use
of the Eskimosy language in education was limited to being taught as a subject
in pre-school; Chukchi schools adopted a similar approach.109
As of January 1, 1975, there were approximately 463 northern schools
providing general education to 138,000 students including 26,500 children of
northern nationalities.110 While the government claimed that illiteracy had
been virtually eliminated in some regions, including Chukotka,111 it also
recognized that only 25 percent of the smaller nationalities had reached the
secondary educational level.112 This led to a new policy designed to raise the
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educational levels of the northern peoples and in 1977 universal secondary
education was introduced.113
In February 1980, the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet
Union and the Councils of Ministers of the USSR adopted a resolution that
directed the Academy of Sciences to begin intensive investigations of northern
native languages and to ensure that each language had a written form. In
addition, the resolution outlined the requirement for textbooks, visual aids and
dictionaries for northern schools.114
At the beginning of the 1980s, the Soviet government had achieved many of its
objectives with regard to the northern native peoples. Schools were in place,
teacher training programs firmly established and the native peoples were
participating in the process. However, the policies were initiated without a full
understanding of the cultural barriers that existed. Thus, while state objectives
tended to be achieved, particularly the integration of the native peoples into the
social-political system, it was not until the mid-1980s that the cultural and
social needs of the native peoples were considered. Even then the program
attempted to integrate the needs of native peoples into the educational system
in accordance with state requirements.
Canadian Educational Policies: 1960 to 1980
The expansion of the federal school system in the NWT and the concomitant
decline in the influence of mission schools continued throughout the 1950s. By
1960, mission schools no longer played a significant role in the education of
the Inuit.115
One of the innovations of the federal school system was the classroom
assistants' program which allowed the Inuit to participate in the educational
process as educators. These assistants were to aid teachers and, at the same
time, train as potential teachers to work in remote areas where the population
did not warrant a regular federal day school.116 The program began in 1958
with two assistants. During the 1961-62 school year, more than ten Inuit were
employed either as classroom assistants or special instructors.117
From the outset, the government emphasized vocational training because it
was perceived as the most efficient path to wage employment. Trade skills
were considered so essential they were integrated into the regular school
program wherever possible. Between 1953 and 1969, approximately 4,475
Inuit received some vocational training.118 Part of this figure is attributable to
the creation in 1964 of a three-year training program for the Inuit at the
Churchill Vocational Centre.119 They also received training in other southern
institutions, for example, between April and September 1969, 126 Inuit were
enrolled in special training courses in the south.120
Still, the majority of Inuit entered wage employment at the lowest levels. The
extent of the problem was demonstrated by the experience of the Hudson Bay
Company. In 1965, it had more than 70 Inuit employees, but because of low
educational levels there were no Inuit store managers or executives.121
According to the 1961 census, only about 22 percent of the total population of
the NWT had reached grade eight.122 This figure included the non-native
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
population who occupied virtually all positions requiring advanced education.
Even as late as 1968, 34 percent of adults in the NWT had no formal
education.123
By 1965, 25 percent of Inuit children in the NWT were not enrolled in school
compared with one percent for the non-native population.124 Part of the
problem for Inuit children was that over 16 percent had no access to
schools.125 To address this, on November 22, 1965, the government approved
a five-year plan to provide primary school facilities for all school-age children
in the North before 1970.126
A second part of the plan focussed upon the causes of the high drop-out rate
among Inuit students: many Inuit children started school at a later age than
normal and had only reached grade four or five by their late teens;127 most
children who entered the system with little knowledge of English took two to
three years longer to complete eight grades of school; and until 1967,
community schools only offered instruction to grade six. To obtain higher
education the children had to leave their families. Consequently, plans were
initiated to have local schools offer higher grades, to introduce experimental
programs for teaching in the Inuit language during the first two years of school
and to develop a more effective means for teaching English.128
At the root of most problems in the northern educational system was the
difficulty of finding a suitable curriculum that met the needs of the Inuit. It had
to be useful for children who wished to follow the traditional way of life, and at
the same time provide opportunities for those with the ability and interest to
pursue more advanced studies. Despite efforts to bridge these two
requirements, no definitive curriculum had been developed, though some
progress had been made. In 1962, supplementary readers which emphasized
northern activities and new courses in social studies, health and physical
education were produced as well as an accelerated academic program for older
students.129 By 1965-1966, at least ten school programs developed by
northern teachers were in use and there were 85 publications specifically
designed for northern teachers.130 In addition, local curriculum committees
had been formed and their recommendations were used in course
development.131 Nevertheless, wide dissatisfaction continued with the
curriculum, in part, because it was based on southern standards and, in part,
because of the cultural differences between students and teachers.
In 1967-68, an estimated 85 percent of school-age Inuit children were
attending schools. At that time, nine large residences were in operation, as well
as seven small residences in which the children were cared for by an Inuit
house mother and father.132 By 1970, every community with more than 100
people was provided with school facilities to grade six.133 At that time, more
than 1,000 or approximately 25 percent of northern children attended boarding
schools.134 Yet few Inuit students had achieved university level education. For
example, from 1967 to 1971, only five Inuit from the NWT attended
university.135
Large-scale changes in northern education occurred in the 1970s after the
NWT government assumed responsibility for education. One significant
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difference was the recognition that a transplanted southern education did not
solve the problems of the Inuit but added to them.136 As a result, teaching
programs were revised to reflect the native people's culture and values through
the introduction of film strips, books and stories in the Inuit language.137 In
addition, several studies recommended native-language instruction in the
elementary grades.138
This recommendation could not be implemented because of the lack of
teachers with the requisite language skills. Although a program to prepare
teachers from the native peoples to work in northern schools had been
introduced in 1969, it had limited success. In fact, only 12 Inuit were trained
between 1972 and 1976.139 By 1978, 33 native northerners were teaching in
northern schools.140 In the interim, to bridge the gap, the classroom assistants'
program was intensified. As a result, the number of assistants increased from
48 in 1969-70 to 123 in 1974-75.141
A separate but inter-related factor that influenced the educational system was
the founding in August 1971 of an official organization for the Canadian Inuit
called the Inuit Tapirisat of Canada (ITC). This organization afforded the Inuit
access to the highest levels of government and allowed them to take the
initiative on issues affecting them. These changes marked the beginning of a
system that was more responsive to eliminating the cultural barriers in Inuit
schools.
By 1978, some progress had been made in creating a primary educational
system for the North. The extension of grades in local schools had reduced the
number of students in residential schools from 1,180 in 1970 to 439 in 1977.142
Still, most Inuit students had to leave their homes to attend high school, usually
travelling long distances to established centres. For many students, the
separation from their families was too stressful and they left the educational
system. In 1978, experimental, grade ten programs were established in two
communities and their success led to the expansion of the program.143
Concurrently, a two-year pilot project was initiated to train teachers in the
Eastern Arctic and to provide a teacher training program that allowed
classroom assistants to become fully qualified teachers.144
Thus, by the end of the 1970s, the educational system had made a modest
beginning in addressing some of the basic needs of the Inuit. However, the
inadequacy of the curriculum and lack of local secondary education facilities
were contributing factors in many Inuit students leaving the system prior to
graduation.
Educational Policies to Today
By the 1980s, there were sufficient educational facilities to accommodate the
aboriginal populations in both Siberia and the NWT. In Siberia, as of 1982,
there was 639 schools serving more than 30,000 children from the northern
native peoples.145 Up to the fifth class, the curriculum was modified for use in
northern schools. After this, the curriculum was based on those used in other
parts of the Soviet Union.146 In the NWT, in 1988, there were 71 schools in 60
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Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
communities. The curriculum in the primary grades was designed for use in the
North; in subsequent grades, it reflected the program of southern schools.
Despite the advances made in the educational system of the NWT, problems
still existed in meeting the needs of the Inuit. In 1980, only one Inuk in Canada
attended university,147 a symptom of problems in the lower levels of
education. Moreover, between 1981 and 1985, only 17 Inuit graduated from
academic and 84 from diploma programs at the grade twelve level in the
NWT.148
The effects of this situation were evident from employment statistics. In the
mid 1980s, Inuit held 45 percent of the jobs with the government of the NWT.
However, 73 percent of these jobs were at the two lowest pay levels with only
one Inuk employed at the senior management level.149 The extent of the
problem is best illustrated by examining the Nunasi Corporation which was
formed in the mid 1970s by the ITC. This company was responsible, inter alia,
for investing funds that accrued from Inuit land claim settlements. As of 1986,
only eight percent of its management personnel were Inuit.150
In Siberia, similar problems were encountered. As late as 1959, most native
peoples had not finished primary school. The greatest advances in the
educational system occurred in the 1960s so that by 1970 the majority of native
peoples had not only primary but secondary education.151 In 1980,
approximately 55 percent of the Chukchi and 76 percent of the Eskimosy had
either incomplete152 or complete secondary education.153 One example of the
advancement is reflected in the educational levels within the agricultural
sector of Chukotka. As of 1982, 92 percent of those under 30 (mostly Chukchi
and Eskimosy) had at least seven years of education and 20 percent had higher
education.154
Another problem common to both countries was the lack of teachers from
among the native populations. In Siberia, programs to train native teachers had
always been an integral part of the educational system and included specific
courses for the north. For example, at the Northern Peoples Department of the
Herzen Pedagogical Institute, in 1981-82, there were 238 aboriginal students.
The majority studied the methods of teaching the grammar of aboriginal
languages and of Russian at the secondary level. Courses were offered in 18
native languages, including Chukchi and Eskimosy.155 In spite of many such
initiatives, the supply of native teachers did not meet the demand.
In the NWT, the lack of teachers from among the native population was more
pronounced than in Siberia. By 1982, 46 of 741 teachers were of native
origin156 and the Inuit language was taught in 27 of 70 schools.157 A
contributing factor to the paucity of Inuit teachers was that training was
available only in the western Arctic. The creation of the Eastern Arctic Teacher
Education program (EATEP)/McGill program in 1982 provided a partial
solution. In 1983, the first 6 certificates were awarded with eleven more the
following year and158 in 1984 the EATEP had an enrolment of 100.159
The inadequacy of native language instruction in the school systems of Siberia
and the NWT, with the concomitant emphasis upon Russian and English,
contributed to the erosion of the native languages. In Siberia, from 1979 to
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IJCS / RIÉC
1989, the number of native peoples who considered Russian their mother
tongue increased from 28.5 percent to 36.4 percent. Similarly, in the same
period, the number who considered the language of their nationality their
mother tongue decreased from 61.7 percent to 52.3 percent.160
The Chukchi and Eskimosy followed this trend. From 1979 to 1989, the
number of Chukchi who considered their native language to be their mother
tongue decreased from 78.3 percent to 70.4 percent. For the Eskimosy, the
decrease was from 60.2 percent to 51.6 percent. By contrast, in 1979, 38.2
percent of Eskimosy considered Russian their mother tongue and by 1989 the
number had increased to 45.9 percent. For the Chukchi, the percentages were
21.2 and 28.3 percent respectively.161
Despite the lack of native-language training in NWT schools, the loss of the
native language among the Inuit was not as significant as in Siberia. This may
be because the Inuit have remained the majority in almost all the communities
they inhabit and the educational system was not available to all Inuit until the
1960s. In 1986, of the 24,665 Inuit in the Canadian North, 20,965 or 85 percent
considered their native language their mother tongue.162
The problem in both Siberia and the NWT stems from the early school
systems, largely consisting of boarding schools, which did not adequately
consider the unique traditions of the native population. As a consequence, it
has been suggested that the children were often ill-equipped to cope with the
traditional lifestyles.163 Moreover, their values and expectations and, in some
cases, even their language differed from their parents.164 In both countries
severe alienation between generations resulted.
Recently, a number of initiatives have been undertaken which may correct the
situation.
In Canada, one of the most important developments was the creation of local
school boards throughout the NWT which had control over decisions on
school organization, finance and curriculum.165 An equally important step
was the creation of the Arctic College in 1984 which provided post-secondary
education, adult education and training programs throughout the NWT.166 In
1990, the adult education program was consolidated as part of the college
system so that it administered community learning centres in more than 30
communities.167
During the 1980s, emphasis was placed on the teaching of native languages in
NWT schools. To support the Inuit language program, sets of readers, pupil
workbooks and a variety of other learning aids in the Inuit language were
produced.168 In addition, a committee of Inuit teachers representing three
regions created an Inuit language curriculum for grades two to six.169
In Siberia, it was only after 1985 that changes occurred in government
policy.170 One of the most important steps was the conversion of some
boarding schools into ordinary day schools.171 Moreover, the number of
children being taught their native language rose from 23 percent in 1988 to 45
percent in 1989. In addition, as of 1989, alphabets were being published in 17
languages and dictionaries in 16 languages.172 The impact of these
84
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
modifications was that between 1980 and 1989 there was an 82 percent
increase in the number of native students studying their mother tongue.173
However, this did not indicate that Russian had declined in importance, only
that emphasis was being given to the instruction of both Russian and native
languages.
The northern people intend to ensure the perpetuation of their culture and work
out a program for their continued development.174 On March 30-31, 1989, the
native peoples of Siberia met to establish their first national association. This
meeting, held in the Kremlin, afforded the native peoples the opportunity to
speak for themselves in a national setting.175
It remains to be seen whether the measures taken in either country can provide
support for the native traditions, especially in light of the problems that still
need to be resolved.
Conclusion
The development of educational systems for the native peoples of Siberia and
the Northwest Territories have been evolutionary processes in response to
specific political objectives. In both countries, this translated into systems that
emphasized government objectives rather than the requirements of the native
peoples. As a result, many northern peoples in Siberia and the NWT, after
participating in the respective educational systems, were unable to cope either
in mainstream society or their own culture.
Initially, the Siberian system focussed upon instruction in native languages
and training of native teachers. This was an expedient method to inculcate the
aboriginal population with socialist values, not a commitment to the
preservation of native cultures. As a result, in the post-war period the massive
in-migration of people from other areas led to an increased emphasis on
Russian and a corresponding decrease in the importance of native languages.
Despite the various decrees that called for the advancement of the culture of
the native peoples, in practice, until the glasnost period when the native people
began voicing their concerns, little practical attempt was made to develop a
system that responded to the needs of the native peoples.
The Canadian approach had a different orientation. From the outset, the
government followed a contradictory philosophy of advocating the
preservation of traditional Inuit lifestyles but established a system based on
southern standards with English as the language of instruction. No consistent
attempts on the part of government to address the special needs of the Inuit
occurred until the Inuit took an active role in policy development. As in
Siberia, it was not until the 1980s that any meaningful attempts were made to
develop an educational system that was relevant to the Inuit.
Thus, the most significant development in the educational systems in both
countries in the last decade has been the increased responsiveness of
governments and the increased role the northern peoples have taken in their
own educational systems. This mutual cooperation is essential if future
government policies are to provide an educational system that is based upon
85
IJCS / RIÉC
the social and cultural values of the native peoples, i.e., the preservation of
cultural heritage has to be an integral part of both systems.
Notwithstanding the deficiencies and interrelated problems associated with
the respective educational systems, the native peoples have achieved levels of
education that allow them to assess and articulate fully their requirements.
This generation must assume an increased role in and responsibility for the
further development of the educational systems if it is to meet the needs of the
native peoples of the NWT and Siberia.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
86
In 1925, the Central Executive Committee of the USSR and the Council of People's
Commissars [Sovnarkom] issued a decree that designated these 26 groups as “Malye narody
severa,” [Small Peoples of the North]. A. I. Pika and B. B. Prokhorov, “Bolyshie problemy
malykh narodov,” [Big Problems of Small peoples] Kommunist 16 (November, 1988): 76;
See Sergeev, M. A. “Malye narody severa v epokhn sotsializma,” [Small Peoples of the
North in the Era of Socialism] Sovetskaia etnografiia 4, (1947): 128; See also Poul Thoe
Nielson, “An Appraisal of the Importance of the National Languages Among the North
Siberian Peoples,” Folk (1972/73): 205-213.
“Inuit” is a self-designated term of the aboriginal peoples of Arctic Canada. The word
“Eskimo” is only used to ensure the accuracy of a quotation or citation.
I. S. Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie narodnostei severa v sovetskii period [Ethnical
Development of the Peoples of the North in the Soviet Period] (Moscow: Nauka 1987), 155.
D. K. Zelenin, “Narody krainego severa posle velikoi oktiabr'skoi sotsialisticheskoi
revoliutsii,” [Peoples of the Far North after the Great October Socialist Revolution]
Sovetskaia etnografiia 1 (1938): 15.
I. S. Vdovin, “Politique législative, économique, sociale et culturelle de l'U.R.S.S. en faveur
du développement des Esquimaux et des Tchouktches,” Inter Nord 11 (December 1970):
120.
Terence Armstrong, “Administration of Northern Peoples: USSR,” in The Arctic Frontier,
ed. R. St. J. Macdonald (Toronto: University of Toronto Press 1966), 67; T. A. Taracouzio,
Soviets in the Arctic: An Historical, Economic, and Political Study of the Soviet Advance into
the Arctic (New York: MacMillan Co. 1938), 264-65.
As cited in Taracouzio, Soviets in the Arctic, 263; Nielsen, “An Appraisal,” 221. This right
was reaffirmed in Article 13 of the 1925 constitution. I. P. Tsamerian and S. L. Ronin,
Equality of Rights Between Races and Nationalities in the USSR (Paris: UNESCO 1962), 28.
As cited in S. S. Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics of the Peoples of the Soviet
North,” trans. Alan Wood, Polar Record 19:119 (1978): 131.
At that time literacy was defined as being able to sign your name and read by syllables.
Chuner Taksami, “Izmenenie sotsial'nogo sostava malykh narodov dal'nevo vostoka,”
[Changes in the Social Composition of the Small Peoples of the Far East] Sovetskaia
etnografiia 2 (April-May, 1970): 71.
K. Luks, “Problema pis'mennosti u tuzemnykh narodnostei severa,” [The Problem of
Written Languages Among the Native Peoples of the North] Sovetskaia sever 1 (1930): 43;
Vdovin, “Politique Législative,” 120, states that less than 1 percent were literate. It should be
noted that discrepancies exist with statistics on the Soviet educational system. Whenever
possible, conflicting sources have been cited.
P. Terletsky, “Kw'tbazy komiteta severa,” [Cultural Bases of the Committee of the North]
Sovetskaia sever 1 (1935): 39.
As cited in Steven P. Dunn and Ethel Dunn, “Transformation of Economy and Culture in the
Soviet North,” Arctic Anthropology 1:2 (1963): 21.
As cited in Kerstin E. Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North: Soviet Ethnography and
Nationality Policy (Stockholm: Uppsala 1985), 61.
V. Uvachan, “Perekhod malykh narodov severa ot rodovogo stroia k razvitomu
sotsializmu,” [Transition of the Small Peoples of the North from Patrimonial Level to the
Development of Socialism] Letopis' severa 8 (1977): 29; Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 139.
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
15. Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie 137.
16. I. S. Gurvich, “Osushchestvlenie leninskoi natsional'noi politiki u narodov krainego severa
SSSR,” [Realization of Lenin's National Policy among the Peoples of the Far North of the
USSR] Sovetskaia etnografiia 1 (January-February, 1970): 23.
17. Vdovin, “Politique législative,” 120.
18. L. V. Belikov, “Training of Teachers for the Far North of the USSR” in Education in the
North: Selected Papers of the First International Conference on Cross-Cultural Education
in the Circumpolar Nations and Related Articles ed. Frank Darnell (Arctic Institute of North
America (AINA) and the University of Alaska 1972), 283. The author has taught in the
Siberian North and prepared textbooks in the native languages.
19. Armstrong, “Administration of Northern Peoples,” 72.
20. I.S. Vdovin, “Malye narodnosti severa na sotsialisticheskom puti razvitiia za 50 let sovetskoi
vlasti,” [Small Peoples of the North on the Socialist Path of Development After 50 Years of
Soviet Power] Sovetskaia etnografiia 5 (September-October, 1967): 88.
21. Belikov, “The Training of Teachers,” 285.
22. A. Danilov, “Cultural Situations and Education in the Soviet North,” in Education in the
North Selected Papers of the First International Conference on Cross-Cultural Education in
the Circumpolar Nations and Related Articles ed. Frank Darnell ((AINA): University of
Alaska, 1972), p. 64. Armstrong, “Administration of Northern Peoples,” 73 reports the
number of schools in 1930 was 131; V. Uvachan, The Peoples of the North and Their Road to
Socialism trans. S. Shcherbovich (Moscow: Progress Publishers 1975), 122, states there
were 62 boarding schools for native children in the North in 1930.
23. As cited in Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 156.
24. N. I. Melyakov, “Leninskaia natsional'naia politika i prosveshchenie narodnostei severa,”
[Leninist Nationality Policy and the Education of the Peoples of the North] Letopis' severa, 8
(1977): 40.
25. E. Orlova, “Desiat' let sotsial'no-kul'turnogo stroitel'stud na severa DVK,” [Ten Years of
Socio-Cultural Construction in the North DVK] Sovetskii sever 3-4 (1935): 51.
26. Armstrong, “Administration of Northern Peoples,” 73; Savoskul, “Social and Cultural
Dynamics,” 132; according to Melyakov, “Leninskaia natsional'naia politika,” 40, the
number of schools in 1934 was 296 and approximately 55 percent of children attended.
27. Orlova, “Desiat' let,” 51.
28. As cited in Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 132.
29. Vdovin, “Politique législative,” 120. A detailed discussion of collectivization and its full
impact upon the native peoples of Siberia is beyond the scope of this paper. For further
reading see Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 106-135.
30. As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 63.
31. Terletsky, “Kul'tbazy,” 36.
32. Ibid., 36-38.
33. As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 66.
34. Sergeev, “Malye narody,” 137.
35. Vdovin, “Politique législative,” 120.
36. Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 148.
37. As cited in Taracouzio, Soviets in the Arctic, 311.
38. Uvachan, The Peoples of the North, 163.
39. As cited in Walter Kolarz, The Peoples of the Soviet Far East (Archeon: 1969), 73.
40. As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 61; as cited in Dunn and Dunn,
“Transformation of Economy,” 23.
41. Kolarz, The Peoples of the Soviet Far East, 73.
42. As cited in Dunn and Dunn, “Transformation of Economy,” 23.
43. Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 61.
44. E. Koutaissoff, “Literacy and the Place of Russian in the Non-Slav Republics of the USSR,”
Soviet Studies 3:2 (October, 1951): 123.
45. Armstrong, “Administration of Northern Peoples,” 76.
46. As cited in Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 156.
47. As cited in Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 135.
48. As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 60.
49. Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 135.
87
IJCS / RIÉC
50.
51.
52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
88
Diamond Jenness, Eskimo Administration II: Canada, Technical Paper No. 15 (Montreal:
(AINA) 1964), 19-20; National Archives of Canada (hereafter NAC), Northern Affairs
Program Records, RG 85/651/A-1009-3-5 (1), “Canada and Our Eskimos,” Jean Lesage,
March, 1955.
Richard Diubaldo, The Government of Canada and the Inuit 1900-1967 (Ottawa: Indian and
Northern Affairs 1985), 85-86.
As cited in Robert Carney, “The Canadian Inuit and Vocational Education: If not Reindeer
Herding, How About Small Appliance Repair?” Études/Inuit/Studies 7:1 (1983): 93. This
school opened in 1927 according to “Education North of 60,” The Canadian Superintendent
(Toronto: Ryerson Press 1965), 62.
Jenness, Eskimo Administration II, 68.
Keith J. Crowe, A History of the Original Peoples of Northern Canada Revised Edition.
(Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press 1991), 167.
As cited in Shelagh D. Grant, Sovereignty or Security: Government Policy in the Canadian
North, 1936-1950 (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press 1988), 34; NAC,
RCMP Records, RG 18 Accession 85-86/048/32/G804-1A (1945) “Summary of Report by
Major P. D. Baird, Eastern Arctic Patrol,” 1944.
NAC, Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development (DIAND) Records, RG
22/271/40-10-4 (2) Memorandum for Cabinet from Jean Lesage, March 4, 1955.
See Andrew Moore, “Survey of Education in the Mackenzie District II,” Canadian Journal
of Economics and Political Science 11:1 (February, 1945): 61-82.
NAC, RG 22/871/40-10-4 (1) Report presented to the NWT Council on October 22, 1947 by
the Sub-Committee on Education, [based on discussions of educational matters at meetings
held on Oct. 16 and 20, 1947]; RG 22/871/40-10-4 (1) “Educational Policy for the Northwest
Territories,” J. W. McKinnon, Inspector of Schools, October, 1947.
NAC, RG 22/126/40-10-4A “Report on Educational Facilities in the Eastern Arctic,”
Prepared for the NWT Administration by H. R. Lamberton, November 1, 1948; NAC, RG
22/120/40-10-4A “Report on Education in the Eastern Arctic,” sent to R. A. Gibson from
Carter B. Storr, June 29, 1949.
Jenness, Eskimo Administration II, 79.
W. T. Larmour, “Eskimo Education,” Arctic Circular 3:5 (November 1950): 51; NAC, RG
85/213/610-4 (1) “Education of Eskimo Children in the Arctic Regions of Canada,” n.d.
NAC, RG 22/171/6-1-7B Welfare Report, Dorothy Robinson, Welfare Teacher,
Tuktoyaktuk, NWT, December 31, 1949; NAC, RG 22/871/40-10-4 (1) Memorandum for
Cabinet, March 16, 1950.
NAC, RG 85/1875/610-1 (1) Letter to Douglas Lord, Welfare Teacher, Coppermine from R.
A. Gibson, October 6, 1950; NAC, RG 85/1131/254-2 (1-B) Letter to Archibald A. Day,
Department of External Affairs, from G. E. B. Sinclair, July 19, 1951.
R.A.J. Phillips, Canada's North (New York: St. Martin's Press 1967), 233.
Jenness, Eskimo Administration II, 79.
As cited in Jean-Phillippe Chartrand, Inuktitut Language Retention Among Canadian Inuit:
An Analysis of 1971 and 1981 Census Data, (Ottawa: Dept. of Sociology and Anthropology,
Carleton University n.d.), 25.
Phillips, Canada's North, 233; according to Chartrand, Inuktitut Language Retention, 25,
there were 110 Inuit children attending school full-time.
Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre, (hereafter PWNHC) Yellowknife, NWT,
Alexander Stevenson Papers, N92-023, “unsorted.” “The Changing Canadian Eskimos”,
Alexander Stevenson, prepared for the International Conference organized by the French
Foundation for Northern Research, Rouen, France, November 27, 1969.
NAC, RG 18 Accession 85-86-048/42/D-1512-2-4-Q-27 Report of First Meeting of the
Sub-Committee on Eskimo Education, September 26, 1952.
Ibid.
NAC, RG 22/253/40-8-1 (2) Minutes of Eskimo Affairs Meeting, May 19-20, 1952;
PWNHC, N92-023 “unsorted.” Summary of Proceedings of the Eskimo Affairs Committee,
May 19-20, 1952.
NAC, RG 85/1131/254-2 (1-B) Letter to Archibald A. Day, Department of External Affairs,
from G. E. B. Sinclair, July 19, 1951; NAC, RG 85/941/12607 (2) “Administration of the
NWT,” 1952.
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86.
87.
88.
89.
90.
91.
92.
93.
94.
95.
96.
97.
NAC, RG 22/270/40-8-1 (6) Minutes of the Sixth Meeting of the Sub-Committee on Eskimo
Education, April 15, 1955.
NAC, RG 22/271/40-10-4 (2) Memorandum for Cabinet from Jean Lesage, March 4, 1955.
NAC, RG 22/805/40-8-9 (1) Memorandum for the Deputy Minister, Department of
Northern Affairs and National Resources, (hereafter DNANR) from the Director, April 30,
1954.
NAC, RG 22/271/40-10-4 (2) Memorandum for Cabinet from Jean Lesage, March 4, 1955.
Ibid., Memorandum for Cabinet from Jean Lesage, March 4, 1955; Ibid., “New Education
Program in the Northwest Territories,” Press Release No. 3555, DNANR, March 28, 1955.
Ibid. Memorandum for the Director, DNANR, from J.V. Jacobson, Superintendent of
Education, March 22, 1955.
NAC, RG 22/805/40-8-9 (1) Minutes of the Seventh Meeting of the Sub-Committee on
Eskimo Education, March 15, 1956.
NAC, RG 22/869/40-8-9 (2) Statement by Gordon Robertson concerning the Report of the
Education Sub-committee on Aims and Objectives of Education and Training Programmes,
March 28-29, 1960.
NAC, RG 85/653/1012-9 (2) Minutes of the Tenth Meeting of the Committee on Eskimo
Affairs, May 25, 1959; Ibid., Remarks of Eskimo Delegates at the Tenth Meeting of the
Eskimo Affairs Committee, May 25, 1959.
NAC, RG 22/805/40-8-9 (1) Minutes of the Fifth Meeting of the Sub-Committee on Eskimo
Education, October 29, 1954.
NAC, RG 85/653/1012-9 (2) Minutes of the Tenth Meeting of the Committee on Eskimo
Affairs, May 25, 1959.
Unlike the Siberian native peoples, the Inuit had systems of writing. In the western Arctic,
the English alphabet was used; in the eastern Arctic they used syllabics, a form of phonetic
shorthand. Almost all Inuit in the eastern Arctic knew the system and had acquired the ability
without formal schooling. NAC, RG 22/126/40-10-4A Report on Educational Facilities in
the Eastern Arctic prepared for NWT Administration by H. R. Lamberton, November 1,
1948.
NAC, Henry Larsen Papers, MG 30 B75/4/Publications, “An Introduction to the Canadian
North,” R. A. J. Phillips, Arctic Division, [First in a series of lectures entitled the New North
sponsored by the Institute of Canadian Studies, Carleton University, Ottawa], October 26,
1957.
NAC, RG 85/653/1012-9 (2) Minutes of the Tenth Meeting of the Eskimo Affairs
Committee, Ottawa, May 25, 1959.
RG 85/1052/A-1012-9 (1) Minutes of the 11th Meeting of the Sub-Committee on Eskimo
Education, March 3, 1960. For a description of conditions at residential schools in the
Canadian north see Charles W. Hobart, “Some Consequences of Residential Schooling of
Eskimos in the Canadian Arctic,” Arctic Anthropology 6:2 (1970): 123-135.
NAC, RG 18 Accession 85-86/048/51/T-400-4 (1) Northwest Territories Council
Commissioner's Opening Address, (Sessional Paper No. 1, 1961. PWNHC, N92-023
“unsorted.” “Report on the Arctic” by Gordon Robertson, Chairman, Eskimo Advisory
Board, Commissioner of the NWT, at the Eskimo Advisory Board, March 28, 1960. At that
time, approximately 90 percent of Inuit students were in the first three grades. NAC, RG
85/1052/A-1012-9 (1) Minutes of the Eleventh Meeting of the Sub-Committee on Eskimo
Education, March 3, 1960.
Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 64.
As cited in Kolarz, The Peoples of the Soviet Far East, 74.
As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 64.
Koutaissoff, “Literacy and the Place of Russian,” 122.
Neilson, “An Appraisal,” 230-31; Danilov, “Cultural Situation and Education,” 64.
James Forsyth, History of the Peoples of Siberia: Russia's North Asian Colony, 1581-1990
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1992), 406.
As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 62; Nielson, “An appraisal,” 233.
On May 11, 1955, a new teaching program was introduced. It increased the study of Russian
and decreased the study of native languages by one hour. Neilson, “An Appraisal,” 234.
Armstrong, “The Administration of Northern Peoples,” 73-74.
89
IJCS / RIÉC
98.
99.
100.
101.
102.
103.
104.
105.
106.
107.
108.
109.
110.
111.
112.
113.
114.
115.
116.
117.
118.
119.
120.
121.
122.
90
Vladilen V. Leontyev, “The Indigenous Peoples of the Chukchi National Okrug: Population
and Settlement,” Polar Geography 1:1 (January-March 1977): 9.
Nielsen, “An Appraisal,” 243.
Armstrong, “The Administration of Northern Peoples,” 81.
Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 136.
Forsyth, “A History,” 406; Barbara A. Anderson and Brian D. Silver, “Some Factors in the
Linguistic and Ethnic Russification of Soviet Nationalities: Is Everyone Becoming
Russian,” in The Nationalities Factor in Soviet Politics and Society eds. Lubomyr Hajda and
Mark Beissinger (Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press 1990), 101; Jacob Ornstein, “Soviet
Language Policy: Continuity and Change,” in Ethnic Minorities in the Soviet Unioned. Erich
Goldhagen (New York: Frederick A. Praeger 1968), 126.
Demitri B. Shimkin and Edith M. Shimkin, “Population Dynamics in Northeastern Siberia,
1650/1700 to 1970,” Musk-Ox 16 (1975): 17.
This policy was never officially announced or published. Nikolai Vakhtin, Native Peoples of
the Russian Far North, Minority Rights Group International Report, 92/5, (August, 1992),
18.
Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 64; Danilov, “Cultural Situation and Education,” 70.
Vdovin, “Politique Législative,” 119.
Danilov, “Cultural Situation and Education,” 69.
Vakhtin, Native Peoples, 18.
Terence E. Armstrong, “Soviet Government Policy Towards Northern Peoples of the
USSR,” in Arctic Policy Conference ed. M. A. Stenbaek (Montreal: McGill University Press
1985), 145.
V. N. Uvachan, “Perekhod malykh narodov severa ot rodovogo stroia k razvitomu
sotsializmu,” [Transition of the Small Peoples of the North from Patrimonial Level to the
Development of Socialism] Letopis' severa 8 (1977): 33. According to Melyakov,
“Leninskaia natsional'naia politika,” 47, in 1975-76, there were 135,400 students including
over 27,000 native children attending 469 schools in the seven national areas.
Melyakov, “Leninskaia natsional'naia politika,” 39. In 1975, 97.2 percent of school-age
children were attending secondary school, including 99.1 percent of those of the indigenous
peoples. L. G. Tynel' and B. A. Zhuravlev, “Sovershenstvovanie kompetentsii soveta
avtonomnogo akruga,” [Perfecting the Competence of the Soviet of an Autonomous
District] Sovetskoe gosudarstvo i pravo, 11 (November, 1977): 48.
Terence Armstrong, George Rogers, and Graham Rowley, The Circumpolar North: A
Political and Economic Geography of the Arctic and Sub-Arctic (London: Methuen &
Company Ltd. 1978), 50.
As cited in Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 158.
Ibid., 144.
NAC, RG 22/487/40-13-2 (1) “Education in the NWT,” J. N. Hefler, February 22, 1962.
NAC, RG 22/485/40-8-19 (1) Minutes of the Eighth Meeting of the Sub-Committee on
Eskimo Education, April 11, 1957.
NAC, RG 85/1962/A1012-3 (1) “Northern Notes”, July 26, 1962.
N92-023 “unsorted.” Memorandum to Cabinet “National Objectives for Northern Canada,”
submitted by the Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, November 9, 1970.
NAC, Arctic Institute of North America Papers MG 28 I79/133/nfn. “Parameters of Human
and Industrial Resource Development in the Canadian North, 1980-85,” Thomas J. Raveson,
August 25, 1970. In 1966, more than 200 students from the eastern Arctic studied at the
Churchill facility. NAC, RG 22/688/AC-125 Submission to Commission on the
Development of Government in the NWT from B. K. Kristensen, Community Teacher,
Padloping Island, NWT, March 25, 1966.
PWNHC, N92-023 “unsorted.” “Report to NWT Council,” Session 40, Baker Lake, NWT,
October 6-10, 1969.
NAC, RG 22/688/AC 102 Submission to Commission on the Development of Government
in the NWT from D. H. Pitts, General Manager, Northern Stores (Hudson Bay Company),
February, 28, 1966.
NAC, RG 22/692/Territorial-Political Administration, Memorandum to Cabinet “Five Year
Education Plan for the NWT and Northern Quebec, 1965-1970,” from the Minister of
DNANR, June 1, 1965.
Educational Policies of the Soviet and Canadian
Governments Toward Native Peoples
123. As cited in David Judd, “Canada's Northern Policy: Retrospect and Prospect,” Polar Record
14:92 (1969): 600.
124. NAC, Sir Robert Alexander Sim Papers, MG 30 D 260/9/9-2 Report of Executive Director of
Indian Eskimo Association of Canada to the Sixth Annual Meeting, Toronto, October 21,
1965.
125. NAC, RG 22/692/Territorial-Political Administration. Submission of a Five Year Education
Plan for the NWT and Northern Quebec, 1965-1970, to Treasury Board from DNANR,
October 1, 1965.
126. NAC, RG 85/2075/600-1-5 (8) “Achievement Report Northern Education 5-Year Plan,”
February 25, 1969.
127. NAC, RG 85/2069/160-7 (13) “Economic Development of the North,” An Address by
Arthur Laing, Minister, DNANR to the Annual Meeting of the Indian-Eskimo Association
of Canada, Toronto, October 21, 1965.
128. PWNHC, N92-023 “unsorted.” “Educational Facilities in the NWT in 1955 and 1965,”
Education Division, DNANR.
129. Government of the NWT (GNWT), Annual Report of the Commissioner, 1961-1962
(Ottawa, Queen's Printer 1962), 23.
130. PWNHC, N92-023 “unsorted.” “Educational Facilities in the NWT in 1955 and 1965,”
Education Division, DNANR.
131. RG 22/487/40-13-2 (1) “Education in the NWT,” J. N. Hefler, February 22, 1962.
132. D. K. Wattie, “Education in the Canadian Arctic,” Polar Record 14:90 (1968): 297-298.
133. N92-023 “unsorted.” Letter to Tagak Curley, President, Inuit Tapirisat of Canada, from B.
C. Gillie, Director of Education, Yellowknife, NWT, September 30, 1971.
134. This includes all native children in the NWT. Robert E. Johns, “History of Administration of
Schools, N.W.T.,” Musk-Ox 18 (1976): 50.
135. Carney, “The Canadian Inuit and Vocational Education,” 108.
136. PWNHC, N92-023 “unsorted.” “Eskimos of Canada,” Reference Paper No. 71, Information
Division of External Affairs, July, 1975.
137. Ibid.
138. N. C. Bhattacharya, “Education in the Northwest Territories,” Alberta Journal of
Educational Research 19:3 (September, 1973): 243-44.
139. Lynn D. Nash, “Drop-out Among Senior High School Inuit Students in Frobisher Bay,”
Multiculturalism 2:2 (1978): 13.
140. PWNHC, NWT Commissioner, Collector, G79-529/001 File (13)0001, Opening Address of
Commissioner Stuart M. Hodgson to the 64th Session of the Council of the NWT, 1978. This
number included all groups of native peoples in the NWT.
141. N92-023 “unsorted.” “The Eskimos of Canada,” Reference Paper No. 71, Information
Division of External Affairs, July, 1975.
142. GNWT, NWT Department of Education Annual Report, 4. This number includes all native
groups in the NWT.
143. E. Duggan, Dan Johnson, and M.S. Naidoo, “Secondary Education in the NWT with
Suggestions for the Universities,” in Education, Research, Information Systems and the
North ed. W. Peter Adams [Developed from the Proceedings of the Association of Canadian
Universities for Northern Studies (ACUNS) meetings in Yellowknife, 17-19 April, 1986]
(ACUNS: 1987), 34-35; GNWT. Annual Report of the Government of the Northwest
Territories, 1979, 5.
144. GNWT, Annual Report of the Government of the Northwest Territories, 1979, 5.
145. Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 158.
146. As cited in Kuoljok, The Revolution in the North, 62. Specialized curriculum for the northern
native peoples involves the teaching of native languages as a subject and the classes in native
handicrafts and home economics and art. John Hannigan, Summary Report of a Visit by a
Canadian Delegation to the USSR to Study Education of Northern Native Peoples October
22-November 5, 1986,” (Ottawa, Circumpolar Affairs Directorate, DIAND November 28,
1986), 16.
147. R. Quinn Duffy, The Road to Nunavut: The Progress of the Eastern Arctic Inuit Since the
Second World War (Kingston, Ont.: McGill-Queens's University Press 1988), 127.
148. Robert Higgins, “The Inuit Tapirisat of Canada: Bridging the Gap, the Need for New
Approaches to Northern Research and Education,” in Education, Research, Information
91
IJCS / RIÉC
149.
150.
151.
152.
153.
154.
155.
156.
157.
158.
159.
160.
161.
162.
163.
164.
165.
166.
167.
168.
169.
170.
171.
172.
173.
174.
175.
92
Systems and the North ed. W. Peter Adams [Developed from the Proceedings of the ACUNS
meetings in Yellowknife, 17-19 April, 1986] (ACUNS: 1987), 38.
Ibid.
Abraham Tunraluk, “Managerial Training in Nunasi Corporation,” in Education, Research,
Information Systems and the North, ed. W. Peter Adams [Developed from the Proceedings
of the Association of Canadian Universities for Northern Studies (ACUNS) meetings in
Yellowknife, 17-19 April, 1986] (ACUNS: 1987), 101.
Savoskul, “Social and Cultural Dynamics,” 138.
Those students finishing an eight-year school are considered to have an “incomplete
secondary education.” Hannigan, “Summary Report,” 6.
Gurvich, Etnicheskoe razvitie, 159.
Arkadi Cherkasov, “The Native Population of the Soviet North: Language, Education, and
Employment,” Musk-Ox 30 (1982): 68.
Dennis and Alice Bartels “Language Education Programmes for Aboriginal Peoples of the
Siberian North: The Soviet Experience,” Canadian Journal of Native Education 16:1
(1989): 25.
This statistic includes all groups of aboriginal peoples in the NWT.
As cited in Duffy, The Road to Nunavut, 122.
As cited in Jack Cram, “Northern Teachers for Northern Schools,” McGill Journal of
Education: An Inuit Teacher-Training Program 20:2 (Spring, 1985): 122.
GNWT, Annual Report of the Government of the NWT, 1983, 48.
Canada, Statistics on the Economic and Cultural Development of the Northern Aboriginal
People of the USSR for the Period 1980-1989 (Ottawa: DIAND), 13. The 1979 and 1989
censuses asked whether a person could “freely command another language of the peoples of
the USSR where `freely command' meant `freely converse'.” However, no tests of ability
were given. Anderson and Silver, “Some Factors,” 96.
Canada, Statistics on the Economic and Cultural Development, 13.
Alan M. Maslove and David C. Hawkes, Canada's North: A Profile (Ottawa: Supply and
Services March, 1990), 24.
Vakhtin, Native Peoples, 22; Kathleen Mihalisko, “Discontent in Taiga and Tundra,” Radio
Liberty 296:98 (July 7, 1988): 3-4; The educational system led to contempt for the traditional
occupations such as fishing and cattle or reindeer herding. James Forsyth, “The Indigenous
Peoples of Siberia in the Twentieth Century,” in The Development of Siberia: Peoples and
Resources, eds. Alan Wood and R. A. French (London: Macmillan Press 1989), 90; Duffy,
The Road to Nunavut, 125.
Chuner Taksami, “Opening Speech at the Congress of Small Indigenous Peoples of the
Soviet North,” Indigenous Peoples of the Soviet North trans. Peter Jessen, Inge Larsen and
Poul G. Pedersen [IWGIA Document No. 67] (Copenhagen: IWGIA 1990), 36; Nikolai
Vakhtin, “Native Peoples,” 22; Pika & Prokhorov, “Bolyshie problemy,” 80; Duffy, The
Road to Nunavut, 125.
Geoffrey B. Isherwood, Knute Sorensen and Eric Colbourne, “Educational Development in
the North: Preparing Inuit Leaders for School Board Control,” Education Canada 26:3
(1986): 9-10.
W. H. Stapleton, “Challenge and Change: The Development of Post Secondary Education in
the NWT,” in Education, Research, Information Systems and the North ed. W. Peter Adams
[Developed from the Proceedings of the Association of Canadian Universities for Northern
Studies (ACUNS) meetings in Yellowknife, 17-19 April, 1986] (ACUNS: 1987), 93.
GNWT, Northwest Territories Education Annual Report, 1990, 5.
GNWT, Annual Report of the Government of the NWT, 1980, 14.
GNWT, Annual Report of the Government of the NWT, 1983, 48.
Vakhtin, Native Peoples, 28.
Taksami, “Opening Speech,” 37.
Ibid.
Canada, Statistics on the Economic and Cultural Development, 3.
Taksami, “Opening Speech,” 23.
Jens Dahl “Introduction,” in Indigenous Peoples of the Soviet North, trans. Peter Jessen, Inge
Larsen and Poul Pedersen [IWGIA Document No. 67] (Copenhagen: IWGIA 1990), 11, 19.
Tatiana Zabelina and Yevgenia Issraelyan
Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the
Modern World
Abstract
Despite the gains which they have recently made, especially in their legal
status, women in both Russia and Canada continue to face acute problems and
challenges at work, in the family and in everyday life. By many indicators, this
situation is much more severe in Russia than in Canada. Although women in
Canada now risk losing some of the economic gains they made in the sixties,
Russian women have already experienced a profound deterioration in their
economic condition. In Russia, this economic deterioration and loss of
daycare and other benefits is reflected in a rapid surge in family breakdowns.
Moreover, unlike the Canadian state, the Russian state has not even
recognized gender as an issue. Consequently, Russian women do not have
even the limited infrastructure available to Canadian women to help them deal
with violence against women and sexual harassment in the workplace.
Résumé
Malgré les gains qu'elles ont obtenu récemment, surtout en ce qui a trait à leur
statut légal, les femmes de la Russie et du Canada continue à faire face à des
problèmes importants et à relever des défis de taille à la maison, au travail et
dans la vie de tous les jours. Évidemment, la situation est beaucoup plus sévère
en Russie qu'elle ne l'est au Canada. Bien que les Canadiennes risquent de
perdre certains gains économiques obtenus lors des années 1960, les femmes
en Russie connaissent déjà une détérioration aiguë de leur condition
économique. En Russie, cette détérioration économique et la perte de services
de garderie se reflètent dans une augmentation rapide du taux de divorce. Par
ailleurs, contrairement à l'État canadien, l'État russe ne reconnaît pas la
question féminine en tant que telle. Par conséquent, les femmes en Russie ne
possèdent même pas l'infrastructure, si limitée soit-elle, dont disposent les
femmes au Canada pour prendre certaines mesures concernant la violence
faite aux femmes et le harcèlement sexuel dans le milieu de travail.
Some people might believe that Russian and Canadian women have achieved a
lot in the modern world. Indeed, women in both countries can choose to work
or stay at home, to pursue a carrer in politics, business or any other area, to
marry and to have children or not to do so. Both Canadian and Russian women
boast extensive constitutional and legal rights. Equality of the sexes is
provided for under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms adopted in
1982, which declares that all citizens of Canada are equal before the law
whatever their race, ethnic background, colour, religious affiliation, sex, or
age. Indeed, the 1993 Constitution of the Russian Federation supplemented
equal rights for both sexes with equal opportunities for their realization.
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
Beyond that, in both countries women have established themselves as key
contributors in the paid workforce (45% of all workers in Canada and 48% in
Russia are females)1.
Finally, it is encouraging that both Canada and Russia have ratified a number
of international documents concerning the status of women, including the
1979 Convention on Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against
Women. In ratifying the Convention, the Canadian and the Soviet
governments declared that they intended to observe every provision.
Yet, this “rosy” picture of the situation of women in Russia and Canada is
rather misleading, since women are still facing acute problems and challenges
at work, in the family and in every day life. This article will cover the main
economic and social problems facing Russia and Canadian women, examine
violence against them, and assess differences and similarities in their status.
(To be sure, the scope of this article cannot extend to such specific issues as
women and politics, women with special needs, and the health and education
of women.)
Women and Work
The transition to a market economy has had a most negative impact on Russian
women. It has become absolutely clear that democratization, as it has been
recently practiced in Russia, is very much a man's project. The position of
women in the economy has profoundly deteriorated. Surveys reveal increasing
gender discrimination in salaries, recruitment, promotion and dismissal as
well as growing professional segregation and feminization of poverty.
Unemployment in Russia has a female profile: it is estimated that 74% of those
officially recognized as unemployed are women, and they face greater
difficulties finding new jobs2. If they do find jobs, they are more likely to be
offered or to accept employment at a lower skill and pay level. Most of the
Russian unemployed were previously engaged in science, research,
administration and services, while 90% of the vacancies offered at the labor
exchange are for workers3. Thus, the female unemployed in Russia are
characterized by higher educational levels.
According to the 1993 Review of the Situation of Women in Canada, published
by the National Action Committee on the Status of Women, many of the
economic gains made by Canadian women since the sixties are now in serious
danger of being eroded. This seems to be a result of both restructuring of the
global and Canadian economies, and of the effects of the Canada-U.S. Free
Trade Agreement. This reduction is evident in the reversal of the long-term
trend of women entering the workforce: for the first time in more than twentyfive years, women's labor force participation rates dropped in 1991, 1992, and
19934.
In contrast to Russia, the tide of unemployment in Canada in hitting women as
hard as men, with the official women's unemployment rate sometimes even
higher than that of men. At the same time, women tend to be unemployed for
shorter periods than men. However, this tendency is due to the fact that much
of women's unemployment is hidden in part-time or temporary work while
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Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the
Modern World
more and more women who are working part-time actually need full-time
work. Statistics show that the number of underemployed women is almost as
high as the number of unemployed women5. Besides, women in this country
are being pushed into non-standard jobs, which provide little or no security,
medical, overtime, vacation, pension or other benefits, and give average
incomes of less than half of those in standard positions.
Both in Canada and in Russia, the wages of women remain far behind those of
men. Canadian legislation provides limited protection against discrimination
on the basis of sex. Provisions to this effect are included in the Canadian
Human Rights Act, the Canada Labour Code and in all provincial as well as
territorial legislation. However, Canadian women working full time earn on
average 70 cents for every dollar men earn, and this gap is much more for those
working part-time.
The same gender gap in earnings is registered in Russia and is still growing. As
for equal pay for equal work legislation, Russia is obviously behind Canada
having but a provision in the Russian Labour Code. The Women's Faction the
State Duma, which calls out for equal opportunities for men and women, has
only started working for legislation providing antidiscriminatory hiring and
firing practices.
There is another visible difference to be noted: contrary to Russia, where
women with higher education are the first victims of unemployment and are
not all valued, education in Canada gives substantial advantages to women in
the labor market. It is crucial to wage equality for women, since higher
education means smaller gender gaps in wages. Women with low educational
grades earn far less than men, while women with university degrees fare better,
but are still earning less than men in their categories.
Both in Russia and in Canada, certain occupations are highly feminized. These
sectors and occupations tend to be characterized by lower pay. In Russia, they
traditionally predominate in education and health, the so-called “budgetary
sector,” where wages that were already low in comparison with industry have
further fallen behind. The four most frequent occupations for women in
Canada are secretaries and stenographers; sales clerks; bookkeepers and
accounting clerks; and cashiers and tellers6. There are also relatively large
shares of women in nursing, and related health occupations, and teaching.
They make up more than 72% of Canada's ten lowest paid jobs and just 20% of
those in the ten highest paying occupations7.
Meanwhile, an encouraging trend may be detected in gender employment in
Canada. According to statistics, during the last decade women's representation
in managerial and administrative positions grew dramatically — between
1982 and 1989, the number of female managers and administrators more than
doubled. Though as much as 40% of the increase in the proportion of women in
this group may be attributable to new occupational definitions, there was still a
considerable growth in women's employment in this category8.
Undoubtedly, Russian women suffer from discrimination in wages,
recruitment and dismissals, and from being shifted to part-time and low-paid
jobs. But their main concern is to keep their jobs by any means, even for a
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IJCS / RIÉC
symbolic salary, and without proper security. The fact of the matter is that
withdrawal from the labor force, besides dramatic financial impact, deprives
them of the supports and benefits of working women, including access to the
day care centres provided by enterprises, and the chance to improve their
housing situation.
The economic crisis in Russia has intensified women's risk of poverty, which,
like unemployment, is likely to be increasingly feminized. The decline in real
income with inflation is felt particularly strongly by single parents relying on
one wage to support a family; single parents are predominantly women, who
are also at greater risk of losing jobs. Statistics show that 10% of registered
unemployed females are the only breadwinners in the family, and about half of
them have small children9. In Canada, the same trend of feminization of
poverty can be observed. Of the 874,000 families living in poverty in 1990,
60.6% were lone-parent families headed by women10.
For women to move forward in technology-dominated society, retraining and
skills upgrading are of crucial importance. In Russia, the educational level of
women starting their careers is usually equal or even higher than that of men.
Soviet women were always proud of their access to higher education, making
up as much as 60% of specialists with high-school diplomas. However, most
Russian women have difficulty combining household and child care
responsibilities with career activities. In addition, with limited resources for
training and retraining, women always have a harder time than men in gaining
access to training. As a result, at the beginning of the 1990s, women made up
only 37% of those who had upgraded their qualifications11.
After the Mulroney Government shifted most of the responsibility for job
training from the government-funded Canadian Jobs Strategy to the selffunded Unemployment Insurance Fund and reduced spending on training by
half from 1984-85 to 1993, many Canadian women were eliminated from
training and retraining programs12. Among them are the most disadvantaged
groups, such as part-time or non-standard workers, young women, new
entrants into the labor force, and immigrants.
Comparative analysis of the situation of women in Canada and Russia leads us
to the conclusion that women in these countries face several common
problems: feminization of poverty, unemployment, female-dominated
occupations, discrimination at work, low wages and salaries. Apparently,
Russian women are in a much more disadvantaged position than are Canadian
women. The most striking difference is in the status of women with a higher
education, which tend to be one of the most vulnerable social groups in Russia.
Beyond the immediate problems for the individuals involved, this deprives
society as a whole of the benefit of their education and experience.
Women and Family
In Russia, economic hardship and political instability are leading to severe
psychological stress and conflicts in private life, making families more fragile.
The divorce rate is rapidly growing: about half of all marriages were dissolved
in 1993 (by comparison, in 1970, the proportion was less than 30%).13 Young
98
Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the
Modern World
families are the most vulnerable: up to a third of married couples get divorced
during the first year of marriage.
The results of the survey conducted by the Moscow Youth Institute in 1992
show that one of the main reasons for divorce in Russia is poverty: most young
people get married without having even the minimum for subsistence and
depend entirely on their parents. In many cases, divorce is the result of the
housing problem: 43% of young families have but a room in their parents'
apartment, while 6.5 % share a room with their parents, and 21 % live in
hostels.14 Alcoholism was also named among the primary reasons for divorce.
Marriages caused by women's pregnancy are considered to be among the most
unstable — about 1/3 of them break up.
It is not surprising that, as a result of the economic crisis, unfavorable living
conditions and growth of criminality, many families abandon the idea of
having children. The birth rate in Russia is constantly falling, having dropped
in 1992 to the lowest rate since the World War II. In fact, the birth rate has
declined by 26% from 1989 to 1992, and is below the mortality rate.15
The marital status of Canadian women has undergone similar trends to that of
Russian women. Yet, the Canadian statistics are not as alarming since
Canadian women have not been under such severe economic pressure as their
Russian counterparts. Besides, in contrast with Russia, in Canada services
needed to reduce the home-work burden are widely available, providing
opportunities for women to combine economic activities with family
responsibilities. So, whereas the crisis of the Russian family is mainly a socioeconomic problem, the divorce rate growth and the fertility decline in Canada
presumably is more affected by the career orientation of Canadian females,
and their aspiration to independence.
From 1981 to 1988, the marriage rate in Canada fell from 52.6 to 45.6
marriages for every 1,000 single, divorced, and widowed women aged 15 and
over. However, while marriage rates declined among women under age of 30,
they rose slightly among older women. Between 1981 and 1988, the number of
divorces increased by 11%. The general fertility rate, that is, the number of
births per 1,000 women aged 15-49, fell from 56.7 in 1981 to 54.1 in 1988.16 In
part, this reflects a trend to later mothering.
Birth control is another acute problem for Russian women. In a country where
abortions have become a “mass production,” 202 abortions are performed for
each hundred births17, harmless hormone-based contraceptives are still in
short supply. In the past decades, abortions were widely available and free.
Now abortion is, in fact, put on the list of paid services and may become
inaccessible for many women.
As for Canadian women, who have had a wide access to various birth control
devices since 1969, the legalization of abortion was high on the agenda of the
women's movement until 1988. Then, the Supreme Court of Canada ruled that
Section 251 of the Criminal Code, which limited women's access to abortion,
is unconstitutional because it violates women's right to life, liberty, and the
security of the person. Yet, many provinces are still either overtly or covertly
opposing the operation and establishment of free-standing clinics that provide
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IJCS / RIÉC
abortions. Besides, as a result of the failed efforts of the Mulroney government
to re-criminalize abortion, a number of doctors, who feared criminal charges
should legislation be adopted, stopped performing the procedure. Thus the
matter of abortion has not been fully settled in Canada.
It is not surprising that many Russian politicians connect the economic and
demographic crises in ways that would return women to the family. They try to
persuade women that their sole mission is to be dedicated keepers of the family
and home. In fact, the trend of the last decade was to increase the number of
regulations directed specifically towards women, such as maternity leave,
leave for care of young children, leave for care of sick and elderly relatives, etc.
Now new steps are taken to “enable women to combine their family
responsibilities” with their economic activities, such as further extension of
child leaves, shorter working hours, and increased rights of mothers to parttime work. Though very attractive for women, these measures are aimed at
ousting females from the labor market, fuelling the perception that women are
less productive workers. Since the benefits and bonuses for women mainly
come from the budgets of enterprises, these measures, in fact, encourage
management to resort to gender discrimination in firing and hiring practices.
This campaign for a return to “family values” has resulted in a heavy additional
burden for Russian women. Many of them are working longer hours in the
home than at work, and trying to compensate for the drop in real incomes and
shortage of services by performing these services themselves. Women with
children were especially affected by the decline in the amount and quality of
child care and by the increase in its cost. All this burden disproportionally falls
on women. A survey conducted in various Russian regions has shown the
women's working hours (at work and in the home) exceed 76 hours per week,
compared with 59.4 hours of men.18
Quality of, support to, and access to child care is a problem for Canadian
women as well. Close to 3 million Canadian children under twelve years of age
have parents who require some form of supplemental child care and only 12%
of children with working parents are currently in regulated care.19 As in
Russia, gender remains a major factor in the organization of the household,
with women doing the main share of unpaid work in the home. While men are
technically eligible for parental leave, it is estimated that less than 5% actually
use these provisions due to low compensation rates. Canada is distinctive for
its low rate maternity leave: in many European countries, maternity benefits
are paid at 95% of women's earnings, while Canada's rate is as low as 57%.20
Again, as in the labor market, Canadian and Russian women are facing similar
problems in their family life. Yet, Canadian women seem to be much more
fortunate having a wide network of services for the household, and a system of
family support and allowances. By contrast, in Russia, priority is given to
measures directed specifically toward women, thus undermining their position
at the labor market and pushing them back into the kitchen. However, some
light appeared at the end of the tunnel for the Russian women after the
December elections to the Parliament. The newly-formed Committee on
Women, Family and Youth in the State Duma which concentrates on family
100
Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the
Modern World
and marital law, plans to take urgent steps aimed at increasing family budgets
and improving the child care system.
Violence Against Women
In contrast to Canada and other Western countries, speaking out against sexual
violence has long been anathema to Russian women. Incest, sexual
harassment, rape and marital violence were taboo topics for Soviet women.
Nonetheless, rape and other sexual abuses are one of the most acute problems
facing Russian women today. Aggressiveness and violence are stimulated by
social instability, degradation of moral values and despair. From January
through November 1993, 13,498 rapes were registered in Russia. But that is
only a small fraction of those actually committed.21
Russian specialists argue that the majority of Russian women have been
victims of sexual abuse or attempted abuse. About half of the women knew
their assailants — husbands, ex-husbands, boyfriends, neighbours, etc. Most
sexually-abused women are under 25, and more than half of them are minors.
Many are victims of incest. Most striking is the growing brutality of sexual
crimes intended to make the victim suffer severely.
The sexually abused usually prefer to avoid publicity, fearing they will be
misunderstood or censured for “provoking the rapist.” Only a small part of
those raped appeal to the courts or to the police. This biased attitude toward
victims seem to be rather typical not only of the general public but of the mass
media and even of the judicial bodies. What is more, the definition of rape
given in the Russian Criminal Code is so unclear and ambiguous that it leaves
many loopholes for avoiding punishment. As a consequence, only 5% of
especially brutal rapes result in maximum length punishments.22 Rapists, most
of them workers and students under 24, go unpunished, commit new crimes
and usually terrify or blackmail their victims.
As for violence in the family, including wife battering, only 10% of these cases
are currently reported. Many women try to avoid “washing their dirty linen” in
public: others hesitate to damage their husband's image or career. However,
concealment is dangerous, since up to 47% of murders and 30% of injuries are
committed in the family23, with the number of female victims going up every
year.
Until recently, no crisis centres, shelters of hot lines existed in Russia to give
women a helping hand and sympathy in periods of confusion and despair.
Thus, they were left entirely unprotected, helpless and deprived of
psychological support in case of sexual abuse and domestic violence. Some
improvement has come with the recent emergence of the Moscow Centre for
Sexual Assault Recovery “Sisters,” the Moscow Crisis Centre for Domestic
Violence Survivors, and project on violence against women launched by St.
Petersburg Centre for Gender Studies. In addition, “hot lines” have started
operating in many Russian cities.
Violence against women is a very acute issue for Canadian women as well.
According to the Angus Reid Group study conducted among 2000 respondents
in October 1992, 97% of women felt that violence against women was an
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important issue on which federal government should focus attention, and 67%
believed that violence against women has increased over the last ten years.24
One in four women are victims of sexual assault in Canada, half before the age
of seventeen. As in Russia women in Canada are usually attacked by people
whom they know well, and they also avoid addressing the courts or the police.
As for the rape crisis, sexual assault and support centres, the situation of
Canadian women is incomparably better than that of Russian women. There
are 376 transition houses or shelter facilities for battered women across
Canada.25
One of the major initiatives taken by the Canadian government in past years
was the 1991 Family Violence Initiative, which was “a call for action” to
involve as many different sectors of Canadian society as possible in addressing
the problem of family violence and to promote collaboration among them.
Over the past decade, significant amendments also have been made to
Canadian law to address the need of women as victims of crime, including
sexual assault. Among the measures is the creation of a victim assistance fund,
and an amendment to the Criminal Code to make the criminal trial and
sentencing processes more responsive to the needs of victims. Besides, sexual
harassment is prohibited in all jurisdictions by human rights codes, either
expressly or through judicial interpretations, as well as by the Canada Labour
Code.26 The Canadian commitment to further work against violence is
reflected in the 1993 UN Declaration on the Elimination of Violence Against
Women that was initiated by Canada.
Russia is far behind Canada in terms of legislation dealing with violence
against women. For example, “sexual harassment” is not mentioned or
prohibited in any legislation though specialists insist that such provisions must
be introduced. Russian women can only dream of the network of support
centres that women in Canada have at their disposal. The public is only
becoming aware of this problem; the government has yet to deal with it.
Generally speaking, Russia is just starting down on the path where Canada is
one of the pioneers. To share the Canadian experience in this field, the
Moscow Centre for Women, Family and Gender Studies organized a joint
Russian- Canadian seminar on violence against women (Fall, 1993).
This article does not claim to be a comprehensive coverage of all the problems
facing Russian and Canadian women. In viewing the challenges confronting
Russian women one might conclude that the “burdens” they assume are
incomparably greater than those of Canadian women. This results from social
and economic pressures in Russia; for most Russian women physical survival
is a challenge. In Russia, gender has never been recognized as an issue by the
state. Unlike Canada, Russia even lacks a national machinery for dealing with
women. Facing indifference on the part of the government, Russian women are
beginning to realize the need for joint efforts and political action. As for the
Canadian women's movement, it has already proved to be a visible political
force in Canadian society.
102
Russian and Canadian Women: Challenge of the
Modern World
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
Women in Canada: A Statistical Profile. Ottawa, June, 1993; Status of Women in Russia,
unpublished report of the Centre for Gender Studies of the Russian Academy of Sciences.
Moscow, 1993
Moskovskaya Pravda, 30 December 1993
Business World, Moscow, 1 - 7 November 1993
Review of the Situation of Women in Canada. Ottawa, 1993; NAC, Toronto, July 1993, p. 3
Op. cit., p. 5
Women in Canada, op. cit.
Review, op. cit., p. 11
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women. Third Report
of Canada, August 1992, p. 13
Business World, op. cit.
Women in Canada, op. cit.
Concept of the State Programme of Advancement of Status of Women, Family, Maternity
and Childhood. Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow, 1992, p. 16
Review, p. 20
Population in Russia, Moscow, 1993
Youth in Russia: Tendencies and Prospects. Moscow, 1993, p. 37
Report of the Centre on Demography and Ecology. Moscow, 1992
Convention, op. cit., pp. 3 - 5
Interlegal, April 1993, p. 5
Concept of the State Policy, op. cit., p. 18
Review, op. cit., p. 13; Women in Canada, op. cit.
Review, op. cit., p. 26
Information Bulletin of the Ministry of Interior Affairs of Russia, December 1993
Vy i My, No.8, 1993
Ibid.
Attitudes and Opinions Towards Women's Issues. December 1992, p. 3
Review, p. 37
“Nairobi: Forward Looking Strategies for the Advancement of Women,” Issues and
Canadian Situation, January 1992, pp. 101 - 106
103
Arkadi Tcherkassov
La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie
Résumé
La connaissance du Québec, en tant qu'entité politique et économique, en
URSS et en Fédération de Russie a toujours été relativement faible. Le grand
public, les médias, les milieux officiels et même la plupart des canadianistes
n'ont perçu « la Belle province » que dans le contexte de l'ensemble du Canada
et parfois ont exagéré le séparatisme comme le trait unique et spécifique de la
vie politique au Québec. L'auteur est convaincu que l'expérience québécoise
en ce qui a trait au développement des réformes économiques et même aux
changements de mentalité populaire (commençant par la Révolution
tranquille) est importante pour la Russie en voie de démocratisation, et ce,
comme modèle unique à suivre. Pour éviter les problèmes diplomatiques liés à
la perception stéréotypée d'un Québec « séparatiste », l'auteur propose
d'accentuer, dans le développement de la coopération russo-québécoise, les
liens inter-régionaux et la « diplomatie de citoyens ».
Abstract
The knowledge of Québec as a political and economic entity in the USSR and
the Russian Federation has always been relatively weak. The public, mass
media, official government quarters and even most Canadianists have
perceived “la Belle Province” only in the context of Canada-as-a-whole,
sometimes exagerating separatism as a unique and specific feature of the
Québec political life. The author is convinced that Québec's experience of
economic reforms and development, and of changing its population's
mentality (starting from the “Quiet Revolution”) is important as a unique
example for Russia, which is going through a process of democratization and
modernization. In order to avoid the diplomatic impasse linked to the
“separatist” stereotype in the perception of Québec, the author proposes to
emphasize, in the Russian-Québec cooperation development, the interregional links as well as the “citizens diplomacy”.
Il est très difficile d'écrire sur un sujet qui n'existe presque pas, du moins,
comme phénomène unique pour toutes les couches de la société soviétique/
russe. On peut parler séparément de la perception du Québec par le grand
public « des masses » (et voilà une chose presque inexistante en Russie et,
d'ailleurs, comme dans beaucoup d'autres pays); de la perception par la presse
et par les autres médias populaires et officiels; de la perception dans les
milieux officiels (le gouvernement, etc.); de la perception dans les milieux
scientifiques et, plus précisément, chez les canadianistes soviétiques/russes,
dont les idées nourrissent les perceptions précédentes (celles du
gouvernement, des médias et du grand public); et enfin de la perception
personnelle de l'auteur — naturellement très subjective.
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
Quant à la perception des « masses », le public soviétique/russe a toujours
voulu croire que le Canada était un pays uni (sans division intérieure),
anglophone et même anglo-saxon, très « britannique » : une « Angleterre
d'outre-mer » ou bien une « Amérique non américaine ». Ce point de vue a un
côté positif. Sous les conditions de la guerre froide, de la propagande officielle
antiaméricaine et de la censure omniprésente, les sentiments normalement
chaleureux des Russes envers les États-Unis (un pays « de liberté », « de cowboys » et « d'abondance ») ont été transformés et canalisés vers le Canada qui
n'était pas « notre adversaire principal », qui était « une bonne Amérique sans
bombe nucléaire » et qui, lui aussi, souffrait de l'expansionnisme américain.
C'était énormément moins dangereux, sous l'oeil du KGB, d'être amateur du
Canada que des États-Unis, l'« Empire du mal. » On était conscient de la
présence relativement plus forte au Canada des Amérindiens (gens très
sympathiques de l'avis du peuple russe). D'ailleurs, on était conscient de la
présence de Canadiens d'origine ukrainienne (que non seulement les
Ukrainiens soviétiques, mais aussi les Russes ethniques considéraient comme
étant « les nôtres »). « Le fait ukrainien » au Canada a toujours eu une
importance exagérée en URSS. Les autres « mots clés » de la perception
populaire russe du Canada ont été (et sont encore) « le froid », « la chasse »,
« le blé » et, bien sûr, « le hockey ».
Et le Québec, où était-il dans cette perception? Nulle part! On retenait de
l'existence des « Français canadiens » (plutôt que des Canadiens français) une
image tirée des romans de Fenimore Cooper, très populaires en URSS, mais
c'était une idée de l'« histoire » du Canada. Étant donné la faible connaissance
des langues étrangères en Russie, le public ne remarquait presque pas les noms
peu anglophones, comme Saint-Laurent, Trudeau ou Chrétien, et on les
prononçait « à l'anglaise ». Le joueur de hockey Guy Lafleur, par exemple, a
été appelé « Gaï Laaafler » par nos commentaires sportifs. Et le nom de la ville
de Québec reçoit même à présent la prononciation « Kvééébek-siti », ce qui
rend l'auteur de cet article fou! (L'explication de cette prononciation étrange
est simple : l'accent aigu est perçu en russe comme l'accent dynamique, et
« siti » veut dire « ville » « en canadien », c'est-à-dire « city » en anglais.) Je me
souviens qu'en 1978 je discutais avec une rédactrice au sujet d'un article sur la
politique énergétique du Canada que je soumettais à une revue. La rédactrice
était mécontente de mes citations trop nombreuses prises dans L'Actualité et Le
Devoir : « Vous écrivez sur le Canada, pourquoi donc autant de sources
françaises?» «Mais elles sont publiées au Canada!» «Au Canada, en français? »
Pour elle c'était une révélation.
Les Québécois (« Kvebektsy » — un néologisme encore mal compris dans la
langue russe) ne doivent pas nous en vouloir. Les non-Russes de l'ex-Union
Soviétique, eux aussi, ont toujours été perçus par le grand public mondial
comme des « Russes », malgré le fait que les Russes ethniques n'ont jamais
formé plus que la moitié de la population de l'URSS. Les autres 150 ethnies
vivent dans une cinquantaine de « Républiques de l'Union », « Républiques
autonomes », « Régions autonomes » et « Districts autonomes ». Pour les
étrangers, tous les « Soviétiques » étaient des « Russes », habitants d'un pays
« russophone ». Même maintenant, après le démembrement de l'Union
Soviétique, les Russes ethniques ne représentent que 81,5 p. 100 des
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La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie
« Russiens » (citoyens de la Fédération de Russie); 27,5 millions (un nombre
égal à la population du Canada!) de Russiens ne sont pas d'ethnie russe. Ceuxci parlent d'autres langues que le russe. Ce sont les langues officielles de vingt
et une républiques et de dix districts autonomes (qui font partie aujourd'hui,
avec les régions russes, de la Fédération de Russie). Donc, attention! Un
Adyghéen ou un Yakoute n'est pas un Russe (bien qu'il soit Russien); il parle sa
propre langue, et sa république (l'Adyghée ou la Saha-Yakoutie) n'a pas moins
le droit que le Québec d'être appelée « une communauté distincte »! Il faut
éviter les approches simplistes qui, malheureusement, sont caractéristiques de
la mentalité des masses dans le monde entier (comme le démontrent les règles
de « l'entropie croissante » et « la pensée des paresseux »).
Deux autres raisons expliquent le manque de connaissance du Québec et des
Québécois dans la presse populaire et officielle soviétique de même que dans
les milieux officiels de l'URSS.
Primo, dans les classifications géographiques officielles de divers organismes
d'État (le Ministère des Affaires Étrangères, les agences de presse TASS et
Novosti, etc.), le Canada figure toujours parmi d'autres pays anglophones, soit
ceux du Commonwealth, soit l'autre partie du tandem nord-américain. C'est
pareil dans les sciences : jusqu'à présent les recherches sur le Canada dans
l'Académie des Sciences de Russie se font surtout dans l'Institut des États-Unis
et du Canada. À l'Université de Moscou, depuis plusieurs décennies, les études
et l'enseignement portant sur la géographie du Canada sont liés aux études sur
l'Australie et la Nouvelle-Zélande, dont on s'occupe dans les mêmes cours.
L'Agence de presse Novosti comportait une section qui s'appelait « CANZ »
(le Canada, l'Australie et la Nouvelle-Zélande). Il en résulte que presque tous
les diplomates, journalistes et même scientifiques soviétiques qui
« s'occupent » du Canada sont, de formation, américanistes ou bien
spécialistes du monde britannique; le plus souvent ils parlent l'anglais et non
pas le français. Donc, ils ne peuvent pas se servir de sources francophones
d'information, et la « francophonie » d'un tiers du Canada est pour eux un
obstacle et parfois (je soupçonne) une gêne, voire même une forme d'irritation.
Secundo, l'unité de la Fédération (soit l'Union soviétique totalitaire, soit la
Fédération de Russie démocratique) a toujours été chose sacro-sainte à
Moscou. Le comportement des « nationalistes » (mot très négatif, presque un
juron en URSS) et des « séparatistes » québécois irritait les autorités
soviétiques qui les percevaient comme un « mauvais exemple à suivre ». À part
cela, il y avait toujours une crainte de compromettre, par les liens avec les
« séparatistes » (gouvernement René Lévesque) ou les « nationalistes » (tous
les autres gouvernements du Québec), les relations avec Ottawa, qui ont
toujours été meilleures qu'avec Washington. On peut parler d'un « complexe
de De Gaulle ». Comme la Russie/URSS avait toujours été un pays où régnait
le perfectionnisme et où toutes les idées, une fois développées, avaient
tendance à être appliquées avec un zèle excessif (p. ex. le communisme, la
censure, l'introduction du maïs par Khrouchtchev, etc.), dans ce domaine, les
autorités de Moscou se sont montrées « plus royalistes que le roi ». Jusqu'à
maintenant, il n'y a pas de délégation générale du Québec à Moscou (ce genre
d'organisme existe dans à peu près toutes les villes principales du monde, y
107
IJCS / RIÉC
compris Londres). Toute mention du Québec et du « peuple canadienfrançais » (on ne dit presque jamais « québécois ») dans la presse soviétique a
été censurée ou autocensurée pour le mettre dans le contexte du Canada et du
« peuple canadien » en général. D'ailleurs, dans les relations canadosoviétiques, il y avait un cas exceptionnel (protocoles Québec-RSFSR 19851988), dont on parlera plus tard dans cet article.
Il était permis d'exprimer de la sympathie envers les « travailleurs francocanadiens » dans leur « lutte des classes » contre les exploiteurs, les monopoles
soit anglo-canadiens soit, plus fréquemment, étrangers (américains). Mais les
idées d'indépendance et même de la « souveraineté-association » étaient
marquées d'un tabou et devaient toujours être dépeintes d'un point de vue
négatif. Par exemple, je me souviens qu'en 1973, dans le journal officiel
Pravda, René Lévesque avait été nommé « la glavar » des séparatistes. Ce
mot russe, proche de chieftain en anglais, sonne à peu près comme « chef de
brigands ». En général, on peut dire que la presse de grande circulation, la
« presse des masses », évitait de publier des articles sur le Québec comme tel.
Quant aux publications scientifiques, dans les écrits de beaucoup de
canadianistes russes, le Québec a été traité dans le contexte de l'ensemble du
Canada. D'ailleurs, la plupart de ces écrivains n'utilisaient que des sources
anglophones.
Il n'existe, dans la littérature soviétique/russe strictement scientifique, que
deux livres sur le Québec parus après 1970. L'un, écrit par une linguiste de
Léningrad (St-Pétersbourg), la Dre Elizavéta Référovskaïa, Le Français au
Canada, a été publié à Léningrad en 1972, à très petit tirage, et est devenu une
rareté bibliographique. L'autre, par Vadim Kolénéko (de l'institut de l'Histoire
générale) s'intitule Le Problème du Québec dans le Canada d'après-guerre
(Moscou, 1981). Ce livre, publié lui aussi à tirage infime, a été une source
idéale, pour l'époque de la censure marxiste, mais il est maintenant
complètement dépassé.1
Parmi les livres géographiques populaires à grand tirage, au sujet de l'histoire,
de l'économie, de la politique récente et de la démographie du Québec, on peut
en signaler trois. Deux sont des oeuvres d'auteurs anglophones traduites en
russe et munies de longs avant-propos et commentaires écrits par l'auteur de
cet article. Il s'agit de Le fleuve Saint-Laurent par Henry Beston (Moscou,
1985; 100 000 exemplaires), qui contient 30 pages de commentaires, et de Sept
fleuves du Canada par Hugh Maclennan (Moscou, 1990; 100 000
exemplaires), qui contient 60 pages de commentaires — pour la plupart,
traitant du Québec. Le troisième livre, Les douze visages du Canada, par
Serguei Danilov et Arkadi Tcherkassov (Moscou, 1987, 304 pages; 40 000
exemplaires), est consacré à la description de chaque province et de chaque
territoire du Canada et comporte des renseignements géographiques,
historiques, démographiques et politiques. Le chapitre sur le Québec (le plus
grand du livre) est devenu la source principale de connaissance du Québec
pour le public russe. Ce chapitre a été écrit par l'auteur de cet article en
collaboration avec Nikita Bantsékine, politicologue moscovite et chercheur à
l'Institut des États-Unis et du Canada (l'ISCAN) de 1975 à 1993. (Celui-ci est
maintenant fonctionnaire au Ministère des Affaires Étrangères de Russie). Il a
108
La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie
publié des chapitres traitant de la situation politique au Québec dans trois
monographies collectives du Département du Canada de cet Institut (Le
Canada au seuil des années 1980, Moscou, 1979; Le Canada et les États-Unis :
relations économiques et politiques, Moscou, 1983; et La politique intérieure
au Canada, Moscou, 1986). M. Bantsékine est aussi l'auteur de quelques
articles sur les problèmes politiques du Québec. Ses articles ont paru dans la
revue U.S.A.: l'économie, la politique, l'idéologie publiée par le même Institut.
Le plus récent, « Le problème canadien-français et la politique nationale du
gouvernement canadien », paraît dans le Numéro 5 de cette revue (1990).
Parmi les autres articles sur le Québec dans cette revue, on peut mentionner
« Le Québec » (géographie économique et politique) par Arkadi Tcherkassov
(No 7, 1986), « Le comportement du gouvernement canadien dans les
situations critiques » (sur le événements d'octobre 1970) par Serguei Danilov
(No 9, 1991), « Le Québec : le grand nationalisme des petites nations » par
Constantin Baranovski (No 12, 1991) et « Le Canada : bien qu'il ressemble à la
Russie... » par Arkadi Tcherkassov (No 6, 1992).
Le dernier de ces articles commente le séminaire international organisé en
février 1992 dans la fameuse Maison Blanche de Russie (c'est-à-dire le
Parlement de Russie) sous le titre « Canada-Russie : une analyse comparative
des problèmes ethniques et nationaux » par le Centre d'études québécoises de
l'ISCAN en collaboration avec la Société moscovite des Amis du Canada, le
Groupe Parlementaire du Soviet Suprême (défunt après octobre 1993) et
l'Ambassade du Canada en Russie. Au début, ce séminaire avait été conçu
comme un groupe d'études sur les relations entre le Québec et la Russie, avec la
participation de politologues célèbres tels Claude Morin et Henri Dorion (qui y
ont assisté). Plus tard, avec la participation de l'Ambassade du Canada, le cadre
des problèmes discutés s'est élargi pour inclure ceux du Canada entier.
Malheureusement, le Centre d'études québécoises, créé en 1990 par un groupe
de chercheurs du Département du Canada de l'ISCAN liés par leur
« francophonie » et leur intérêt pour le Québec (Nikita Bantsékine, Arkadi
Tcherkassov, Constantin Baranovski et Lucie Némova), n'a connu que deux
années d'existence avant d'être transformé en « Centre d'études interethniques
et interrégionales », hors du Département du Canada et sans la participation
des trois derniers canadianistes mentionnés ci-dessus.
Quand même, cette tentative (qui n'a pas encore été abandonnée) de créer un
centre d'études québécoises en Russie a révélé qu'un intérêt profond pour le
Québec existe dans notre pays, au moins au sein du Département du Canada de
l'ISCAN, qui est le centre principal d'études canadiennes en Russie et le siège
social de l'Association russe d'études canadiennes. Cet intérêt n'est pas
seulement académique et n'a rien à voir avec la perception dominante simpliste
(et fausse!) qui veut que le Québec soit une province « séparatiste », « rebelle »,
la « fautrice de troubles » de la Confédération. Au contraire, les
« québécologues » russes, dans leurs approches aux problèmes du Canada en
général, sont plutôt des « fédéralistes » fermes et dévoués, d'autant plus que le
démembrement récent de l'URSS et le séparatisme croissant au sein de la
Fédération de Russie leur ont montré très visiblement les périls économiques,
politiques, voire moraux liés à l'effondrement soudain d'une fédération formée
109
IJCS / RIÉC
au cours des siècles. De plus, selon les convictions de l'auteur de cet article,
c'est l'existence du Québec (le berceau du Canada) et de la francophonie
canadienne qui est le facteur principal de la « canadianité »; c'est ce qui rend
ce pays différent des autres, ce qui protège l'identité canadienne et cimente ce
pays en mosaïque qui ressemble tellement à mon pays, la Russie, de sorte que
le Canada peut montrer la voie d'un développement paisible et démocratique.
Mais de toutes les régions et de toutes les ethnies du Canada (et, peut-être, du
monde entier), c'est le Québec et les Québécois qui pourraient, à mon avis,
donner un exemple positif aux Russes d'aujourd'hui, être pour eux un modèle
parce que, de tous les peuples de souche européenne (comme les Russes le
sont), seuls les Québécois ont abordé la deuxième moitié du vingtième siècle
avec presque les mêmes problèmes et le même fardeau historique que les
Russes : la dominance d'une idéologie auto-isolationniste, un certain
complexe d'infériorité face au monde entourant (anglo-saxon dans le cas des
Québécois, occidental dans le cas des Russes), allié à un complexe de
supériorité (« notre morale catholique/communiste est meilleure ») — ce que
j'appellerais, pris dans l'ensemble, « un complexe Maria Chapdelaine »; un
abîme entre l'intelligentsia et les « masses » mi-paysannes; un manque de
cadres professionnels, d'hommes d'affaires, d'ingénieurs, etc.; une pauvreté
relative (si on les compare avec les ethnies voisines) dans un pays ayant autant
de richesses naturelles! Et ce sont les Québécois (et, peut-être aussi, les
Espagnols, mais leur pays et leur caractère national ressemblent beaucoup
moins à ceux des Russes) qui ont entrepris, il n'y a pas longtemps, une
pérestroïka qui s'appelait la Révolution tranquille (N.B. : tranquille!) qui a été,
malgré tous ses problèmes, une réussite, qui est parvenu à changer la mentalité
des petits-fils des « habitants » et qui leur a donné la possibilité de bâtir une
société prospère, démocratique, dynamique et bien distincte, sans perdre leur
identité culturelle (ce que craignent les nationalistes russes au cours de la
présente modernisation et « occidentalisation » de la Russie). N'est-ce pas un
modèle idéal pour mon pays?
De tous les Occidentaux, je crois, les Québécois sont aujourd'hui les plus aptes
à comprendre les aspirations et les problèmes des Russes, parce qu'ils ont subi
les mêmes processus il y a trente ans. De plus, leur développement
économique est sujet à des conditions géographiques et sociales similaires (la
« nordicité », les problèmes de communication, les forêts, la même abondance
de ressources minérales et hydrauliques, les contacts avec les Autochtones, la
mentalité spécifique des « masses » — d'où, par exemple, le mouvement
Desjardins). C'est pourquoi ceux qui connaissent le Québec sont partisans
d'une participation massive d'investisseurs et de spécialistes québécois dans la
modernisation de la Russie — leur expertise serait d'une grande valeur.
Cette valeur est évidente pour ceux et celles qui connaissent le véritable visage
du Québec, mais, comme j'ai tâché de le montrer au début de cet article, nous
ne sommes pas nombreux. La perception que le Québec est une province
« séparatiste » (ce cliché simpliste de ceux qui ne le connaissent pas) érige des
obstacles politiques.
En 1982, une délégation québécoise (!) menée par le grand connaisseur de la
Russie au Québec, le géographe Henri Dorion (qui est peu après devenu Sous-
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La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie
ministres (de la même RSFSR, non pas l'URSS) de la construction et de
l'agriculture (chargés des régions du Nord), le chef de l'administration d'un
district autonome nordique, et l'auteur de cet article comme représentant de
l'Académie des Sciences qui s'occupait des problèmes du développement du
Nord, a eu lieu en 1985 et a été aussi un véritable « périple nordique » (Val
d'Or, Fermont, Kuujjuaq, Povungnituk, Umiujaq, Chissassibi et Radisson).
Comme résultat de cet échange de visites, un protocole de coopération entre le
Québec et la RSFSR fut signé en 1985. Cet accord a été renouvelé en 1988 par
le gouvernement Bourassa. C'est un traité de coopération dans les domaines du
développement des régions du Nord, de la construction, des transports.2
Ce que le public mondial n'a pas remarqué — et la presse n'a pas prêté
suffisamment attention à ces protocoles ni en URSS, ni au Canada, ni même au
Québec — c'est que ce fut le premier traité international signé par la Russie
comme telle (bien que sous la guise de la « RSFSR ») depuis la formation de
l'URSS en 1922! On peut donc soutenir que le protocole signé dans le Château
Frontenac en juin 1985 par Henri Dorion et le premier vice-président du
Comité d'État de la RSFSR pour la construction Nariman Soukhanov est d'une
importance symbolique dans l'histoire de la Russie.
Oui et non. Si c'était comme ça, cela contradirait ce que l'auteur a dit au début
de cet article au sujet de l'attitude pro-fédéraliste des autorités soviétiques dans
leurs relations avec le Canada. Primo, la Russie comme telle n'existait pas. De
toutes les « républiques d'Union », marionnettes de l'ancienne URSS, la
RSFSR était la plus amorphe et considérée la moins sérieuse, car chaque
ministère de cette « république » n'était que rudimentaire et sous la pression
d'un « véritable » ministère (du même nom) qui faisait partie du « véritable »
gouvernement, celui de l'URSS, qui dominait partout, mais surtout en RSFSR.
Il suffit de dire, par exemple, que le « Ministère des Affaires Étrangères » de la
RSFSR, avec sa douzaine d'employés, était un quasi-chômeur à l'ombre de
l'omnipuissant Ministère des Affaires Étrangères de l'URSS, qui hébergeait
des milliers de diplomates. Quant aux protocoles de coopération avec le
Québec, on les signait au niveau de sous-ministres provenant des ministères
« de branches industrielles » avec un « accent nordique ». On pourrait dire que
les autorités soviétiques, en permettant à la RSFSR d'avoir ses propres
« relations internationales » avec « une province », ont remis la Russie à sa
place. Mais il est plus probable que ces activités « régionales » et très
spécialisées n'ont simplement pas été remarquées par les auteurs de la grande
politique globale de M. Gorbatchev.
En 1990, après que la Russie a proclamé sa souveraineté (encore comme la
RSFSR, dans les cadres de l'URSS), la possibilité existait de développer des
relations économiques et politiques directes entre la Russie et le Québec sur un
plan d'égalité, comme entre deux membres de deux confédérations (l'URSS et
le Canada). Mais l'effondrement de l'Union soviétique et l'indépendance totale
acquise par la Russie (désormais la Fédération de Russie, une bonne chose en
soi) a compliqué tout cela de nouveau. Maintenant Moscou, comme capitale
d'une Fédération indépendante, est à l'échelle d'Ottawa (avant, politiquement,
il y avait « deux Moscous » : la capitale soviétique et la « capitale régionale »,
c'est-à-dire russe, la dernière étant homologue de Québec), et, pour les
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politiciens extrêmement prudents des deux fédérations, la création de liens
directs entre Moscou et Québec signifiait un encouragement du
« séparatisme » québécois! Voilà une autre impasse dans ce monde politique
plein de préjugés! De plus, si l'on propose de développer des liens entre le
Québec et les régions russes (les oblast, qui, selon la nouvelle constitution de la
Russie, ont tous les droits de « sujets plénipotentiaires de la Fédération »), cela
pourrait faire mal à l'orgueil national des politiciens québécois qui
apparemment considèrent le Québec comme une entité située à un niveau plus
élevé qu'une simple région ou qu'une province.
En même temps, il y a au sein de la Fédération de Russie des unités sur le même
niveau que le Québec : ce sont les vingt et une Républiques, la plupart
desquelles ont proclamé leur souveraineté tout en restant dans les cadres de la
Fédération. Ces républiques non russes sont un véritable monde à découvrir
pour les Québécois (pour qui la Russie semble rester une entité homogène,
unilingue et monoculturelle, exactement comme le Canada pour les étrangers
mal informés). En été de 1993, les gouvernements de deux de ces Républiques
— celles de l'Adyghée et de la Kabardino-Balkarie (peuplées, entre autres, par
les fameux Circassiens-Tcherkesses du Caucase de Nord) — ont exprimé leur
intention d'établir et de développer des liens économiques et culturels avec le
Québec (ainsi qu'avec les autres provinces du Canada, si possible). La capitale
de l'Adyghée, la ville de Maïkop, a initié un projet de jumelage éventuel avec
une ville du Québec (encore à préciser) et une ville kabardine, Térek, voulait
faire de même avec Jonquière. (Le choix était basé sur une similitude
économique.) Dans les deux républiques, des succursales de la Société
panrusse des Amis du Canada ont été formées en 1993.
Cette société a été fondée le 1er juillet 1991 à Moscou par un groupe de
démocrates moscovites, y compris l'auteur de cet article, qui en est devenu son
premier président (1991-1993). Cependant la société a été reconnue
officiellement seulement après les événements d'août 1991, quand la
bureaucratie communiste a été écartée. La société a établi des liens étroits avec
le Regroupement Québec-Russie, fondé à Québec pendant la même époque
par un groupe de jeunes Québécois qui s'intéressaient au processus de
démocratisation en Russie. Les deux organismes ont mis sur pied un échange
de délégations composées d'hommes politiques, d'hommes d'affaires et
d'étudiants. Le fondateur et président du Regroupement Québec-Russie (qui
compte maintenant plus d'une cinquantaine de membres actifs), M. Pierre
Gaudreault, a effectué deux visites en Russie, et les deux sociétés ont fait la
découverte l'une de l'autre. La « diplomatie des citoyens » s'est montrée plus
rapide, plus efficace et moins limitée par des restrictions diplomatiques que
celle des fonctionnaires! Je suis sûr que la connaissance réciproque et les liens
amicaux entre les Russes et les Québécois (ainsi qu'entre les Russiens et les
Canadiens) vont continuer à se développer sous l'égide de telles sociétés
basées sur l'amitié. Ainsi les relations économiques, culturelles et politiques
entre nos deux peuples, avec toutes leurs richesses ethnoculturelles, vont se
poursuivre avec succès, car ces liens sont utiles à la fois pour la Russie et pour
le Canada, et leur développement est en bonnes mains.
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La perception du Québec en URSS/Russie
Notes
1.
2.
Des livres publiés plus tôt, on peut mentionner : N. Vannikova, La littérature canadienne en
français (1945-1965), Moscou, 1969; deux livres de S. Ryerson traduits de l'anglais
(Fondation du Canada; Moscou 1963 et Union inégale, Moscou 1970); ainsi que deux livres
de V. Tichkov: Le pays de la feuille d'érable : le début de son histoire (Moscou, 1977) et
Mouvement libérateur au Canada colonial (Moscou, 1978), traitant en grande partie de
l'histoire du Québec.
Ekho Planety (« L'Écho de la Planète », revue de TASS, Moscou), No 37 Décembre 1988,
p. 21.
113
Rémi Hyppia
Les relations Québec-Russie
Résumé
Dans cet article, l'auteur fait un survol des relations Québec-Russie. Quoique
récentes, ces relations se sont développées rapidement dans plusieurs secteurs
d'activités. Cependant, l'actuelle situation économique et le contexte politique
en Russie nuisent au développement de ces relations.
Abstract
In this article, the author provides an overview of Québec-Russian relations.
Although fairly recent, these relations rapidly expanded in several sectors of
activity. However, the current economic and political situations in Russia
hinder the development of these relations.
Ce n'est qu'au début des années soixante, dans la foulée de ce que l'on a appelé
la révolution tranquille, que le Québec s'est ouvert sur le monde. Comme le
notent Louis Balthazar et Gordon Mace :
Les relations extérieures du Québec de l'ère moderne prendront alors
une ampleur sans précédent sous la poussée conjuguée de la
modernisation et du nationalisme de la société québécoise, combinée
aux exigences d'une interdépendance de plus en plus incontournable1.
Dans la conjoncture de la montée du nationalisme québécois et des demandes,
de la part des divers premiers ministres québécois fédéralistes (Johnson,
Bertrand, Bourassa), d'un réaménagement de la fédération canadienne dans
lequel le Québec aurait un « statut particulier », le gouvernement fédéral, sous
l'administration libérale de P. E. Trudeau, exprima à maintes reprises son
agacement envers les initiatives internationales du Québec. Comme le
rapportent Balthazar et Mace :
Avant que se terminent les années soixante, toutefois, le mouvement
d'expansion de l'État québécois et l'incertitude quant à son statut sur
le plan international donneront lieu à ce qu'on appellera « la guerre
des drapeaux », au cours de laquelle le Québec saisira toutes les
occasions pour tester la fermeté des positions fédérales et pour se
tailler une place sur la scène internationale, tandis qu'Ottawa
cherchera à éviter tout précédent susceptible d'affaiblir son contrôle
des relations extérieures du pays. Les manifestations les plus
spectaculaires de cette période conflictuelle ont été, bien sûr, la visite
du général de Gaulle au Québec, mais surtout la tenue des
conférences des ministres de l'Éducation des pays francophones au
Gabon, au Zaïre et au Niger de 1968 à 19702.
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
L'élection du Parti québécois en 1976, qui, lui, prônait ouvertement
l'indépendance du Québec, ne fit qu'augmenter la méfiance d'Ottawa envers
les actions du Québec à l'étranger. Le gouvernement libéral de Pierre Eliott
Trudeau croyait que le Québec profiterait de ses contacts à l'étranger pour
obtenir des appuis dans la communauté internationale à son projet de
« séparation » du Canada3.
Nonobstant la question des relations France-Québec au cours des années
soixante-dix, qui semble être l'exception confirmant la règle, le Québec a
toujours respecté la prépondérance du gouvernement fédéral dans ses relations
avec l'étranger. Au lieu de prendre des initiatives internationales pouvant
devenir des sources de litiges avec Ottawa, la province de Québec a cherché
l'appui et l'approbation du gouvernement fédéral dans l'établissement de
contacts avec des gouvernements étrangers.
Les secteurs de coopération, privilégiés par le Québec dans ses « affaires
internationales », ne débordèrent presque jamais du champ des compétences
provinciales. De plus, Ottawa parraina des projets d'ententes commerciales,
scientifiques, techniques et culturelles entre une province canadienne et un
gouvernement étranger, dont celles entre le Québec et la République
fédérative socialiste soviétique de Russie (RSFSR), l'une des quinze
républiques de l'Union soviétique à l'époque. Il est intéressant de noter que la
RSFSR et le Québec étaient tous les deux membres d'un État fédéral4. C'est
sous le parapluie de leur État fédéral respectif que Russes et Québécois
établiront leurs relations.
Historique des relations officielles entre le Québec et la Russie
Hormis, quelques manifestations culturelles en URSS au cours des années
soixante et le début des années soixante-dix, les relations entre le Québec et
l'URSS se limitèrent à des échanges avec le Consulat général de l'Union
soviétique à Montréal.
En 1971, le Canada signa avec l'URSS une série d'accords, dont l'Accord
général sur les échanges (connu sous son acronyme anglais de GENEXAG).
Plusieurs domaines d'activités, dont certains relevaient de compétences
provinciales, étaient touchés par le GENEXAG :
Four articles in the text of this accord referred to the encouragement
of contacts and exchanges in the specific field of agriculture,
fisheries, wildlife, forestry, water, mining, energy, transport,
communications, urban development, northern development,
environmental management, pollution control, medical science and
public health, particularly in areas where “geography and climate create
similar conditions and problems.” Another six articles referred to
exchanges in the arts, athletics, education, and in various forms of the
communications media5.
L'accord permettait donc aux provinces d'entreprendre des relations
« intergouvernementales » et de signer des ententes de coopération avec
l'URSS et les quinze républiques qui la composaient à l'époque. Dans ce
contexte, le Québec et la RSFSR pouvaient éventuellement signer entre eux
116
Les relations Québec-Russie
des ententes de coopération et d'échanges scientifiques, techniques et
culturels.
Au cours des années soixante-dix, le Québec manifesta son intérêt pour
certaines formes de coopération avec la RSFSR. En effet, la lecture du rapport
annuel 1975/76 du ministère des Affaires intergouvernementales démontre
que le Québec aurait bien voulu participer aux réunions de l'accord-cadre entre
le Canada et l'URSS qui s'étaient tenues à Moscou6. Entre 1979 et 1984, les
relations entre le Canada et l'URSS furent considérablement réduites à la suite
de l'aventure afghane (1979) et de la destruction du Boeing 747 de la Korean
Airlines (KAL 007) en 1983, qui avait des citoyens canadiens à son bord.
En 1982, malgré le refroidissement des relations canado-soviétiques, le
Québec fut invité à Moscou par la RSFSR pour discuter des questions
nordiques. Un fonctionnaire fédéral du ministère des Affaires indiennes et du
Nord fit partie de la délégation québécoise. En 1985, Clément Richard,
ministre des Affaires culturelles, séjourna en URSS pour y organiser des
échanges d'expositions de peintres russes et québécois ainsi que pour mettre
sur pied des projets de coopération dans les domaines de la cinématographie et
de la télévision. En juin 1985, le Québec reçut une délégation soviétique qui
s'intéressait à l'expertise québécoise sur le plan du développement de diverses
infrastructures dans les régions nordiques. Plusieurs projets dans différents
secteurs furent proposés par le Chef de la délégation soviétique, le viceprésident du comité d'État pour la construction de la RSFSR (GOSSTROI).
Contrairement à ses relations avec la France, le gouvernement du Parti
québécois sembla accepter de bonne grâce la « tutelle » d'Ottawa dans ses
relations avec la RSFSR.
L'élection du gouvernement libéral de Robert Bourassa, moins porté que son
prédécesseur sur les « relations internationales », en novembre 1985, ne
modifia pas le rythme des contacts entre le Québec et l'URSS. En octobre
1986, le Québec joua un rôle actif au sein de la Commission mixte CanadaURSS sur les échanges culturels, académiques et scientifiques7.
Dans le contexte de la perestroïka de Gorbatchev, le gouvernement québécois
et le gouvernement soviétique entrevoyaient des débouchés intéressants pour
les firmes québécoises dans des secteurs tels que la réfrigération et l'agroalimentaire, l'insémination artificielle des bovins8. En 1987, l'URSS occupait
la trentième place et la cinquante-deuxième place à titre, respectivement, de
client du Québec et comme fournisseur de celui-ci9. On précisait aussi que :
Le bon dossier de crédit de l'URSS, la réduction du fardeau des
dépenses militaires et les ambitieux plans de modernisation de
Gorbatchev vont contribuer à faire du pays un des marchés les plus
dynamiques et les plus importants pour les entrepreneurs, les
manufacturiers de biens d'investissements et les sous-traitants.
Les préoccupations grandissantes pour l'environnement pourraient
créer des débouchés pour les entreprises spécialisées dans le matériel
anti-pollution.
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Le marché des biens de consommation est beaucoup plus difficile à
pénétrer. De ce côté, l'avenir est sans doute davantage à la production
sur place en co-participation10.
En février 1987, des représentants de la RSFSR et du Québec signèrent un
« protocole et un programme de coopération scientifique, technique et
culturelle11. » Le programme de coopération envisageait des échanges dans
des secteurs, tels que l'urbanisation, la pisciculture, la foresterie, la protection
de l'environnement, ainsi que des expositions sur l'art des peuples nordiques12.
En octobre 1988, la RSFSR et le Québec paraphaient une entente-cadre de
coopération d'une durée de quatre ans. Le préambule de cette entente débutait
de la manière suivante : « Prenant appui sur les principes et les dispositions de
l'accord général sur les échanges entre l'U.R.S.S. et le Canada conclu le 20
octobre 1971...13 ». Les secteurs de coopération étaient clairement définis dans
l'article premier de l'entente :
Article 1
Les Parties entreprennent de favoriser et d'encourager la coopération
dans les domaines économique, scientifique, technologique et
culturel, de même que les échanges dans ces domaines entre les
organismes et entreprises de la République socialiste fédérative
soviétique de Russie et du Québec14.
L'article 2 précisait les moyens (missions d'experts, stages, conférences,
échange d'information) mis en oeuvre pour le fonctionnement de l'entente qui
stipule que les parties doivent se réunir sur une base bisannuelle pour étudier
les diverses questions se rapportant à celle-ci (article 6). D'une durée de quatre
ans, elle est automatiquement prorogée pour des périodes de deux ans si
aucune des parties n'y met fin par écrit (article 8). Cette entente-cadre QuébecRSFSR, comme nous avons pu le constater, se plaçait directement sous le
parapluie de l'accord-cadre Canada-URSS de 1971.
En décembre 1988, le ministre des Affaires internationales d'alors, Monsieur
Pierre Gobeil, dirigea une mission commerciale et culturelle en RSFSR. Lors
de son séjour là-bas, le ministre Gobeil rencontra le président du Conseil des
ministres et les ministres des Affaires étrangères, de la Culture et des forêts de
la RSFSR. On profita du séjour du ministre pour signer le programme de
coopération pour 1989-1990. Le Québec offrit aussi son aide à l'Arménie qui
venait d'être dévastée par un énorme tremblement de terre. Entre-temps,
certains hommes d'affaires québécois, accompagnant le ministre, conclurent
des ententes commerciales avec des firmes soviétiques.15
Au début des années quatre-vingt-dix, le Québec et la RSFSR s'engagèrent
dans des programmes de coopération économique, scientifique, technique et
culturelle. Par exemple, sur le plan culturel, le Musée de la civilisation du
Québec et le Musée ethnographique de Léningrad (Saint-Pétersbourg)
organisèrent conjointement la tenue d'une exposition, intitulée « ToundraTaïga », au Québec et en Russie. De plus, des artistes russes vinrent participer
au festival « Juste pour rire » et au festival de folklore de Drummondville.
Toujours dans le volet culturel de la coopération Québec-Russie, des artistes
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Les relations Québec-Russie
russes purent participer à la tournée du Cirque du Soleil en 1990 et des jazzmen
québécois participèrent au festival international de Jazz de Moscou en
novembre 1991.
En 1990 et 1991, de nombreuses délégations russes visitèrent le Québec. En
juillet 1990, le sous-ministre de la Culture de la Russie visita le Québec afin de
se familiariser avec les milieux culturels québécois et élaborer des projets
d'échanges culturels. En mars 1991, le président du Comité d'État à l'économie
de la RSFSR vint au Québec. En septembre 1991, le président du Comité pour
la Santé de l'URSS visita le Québec. Pendant ce mois, deux autres délégations
russes (des parlementaires et le chef de la division des relations économiques
extérieures du ministère de l'Économie de la RSFSR) foulèrent le sol
québécois.
Le Québec envoya quelques délégations en Russie, dont la plus importante fut,
en juillet 1990, la mission du ministre de l'Industrie, du Commerce et de la
Technologie, Monsieur Gérald Tremblay. Celui-ci remplaçait le ministre des
Affaires internationales, John Ciaccia, retenu au Québec à cause de la
tristement célèbre crise d'Oka. Le ministre était accompagné d'une importante
délégation de gens d'affaires intéressés d'établir des contacts avec des firmes
soviétiques dans les domaines de l'agro-alimentaire, la première
transformation du bois, l'hôtellerie, la restauration et le logement. Outre des
rencontres ministérielles à Moscou et Léningrad, la délégation se rendit en
Sibérie.
Plusieurs propositions de coopération dans les domaines culturels et de
l'éducation furent présentées aux Québécois par les Russes. Dans une
déclaration commune, datée du 20 juillet 1990, le Québec et la Russie
s'engageaient à intensifier la coopération et à élargir celle-ci aux domaines de
l'informatique, l'électronique, le développement touristique et les
biotechnologies. Comme le rapportait un journaliste québécois, qui
accompagnait la mission du ministre, le sous-ministre des Affaires
internationales affirma que « [D]e toutes les provinces canadiennes, le Québec
est de loin la plus agressive sur les marchés de l'Est. Tant et si bien que, tout
récemment, les fonctionnaires ontariens téléphonaient à Québec pour savoir à
quelles portes frapper à l'Est16...»
Lors d'une conférence de presse à l'Ambassade du Canada, le ministre
Tremblay dut répondre à une question d'un journaliste soviétique qui lui
demandait si le fait de coopérer avec une république qui avait déclaré sa
souveraineté risquait de froisser le gouvernement de l'URSS17. Le ministre
nota que :
... que cette Entente de coopération ne peut être considérée en aucune
façon comme une ingérence dans les relations fédérales
républicaines de l'URSS puisque la coopération Québec-RSFSR date
de 1986, d'une part, et que, d'autre part, tous les projets du programme
de coopération de 1989-1990 ont été définis en consultation avec
l'Ambassade du Canada à Moscou et le Consulat général d'URSS à
Montréal. Enfin, la tenue d'une conférence de presse québécoise au
sein de l'Ambassade du Canada témoigne de la collaboration qui
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existe entre les gouvernements fédéral et du Québec pour le
développement de coopération économique Québec-RSFSR18.
La tentative de putsch contre Mikhaïl S. Gorbatchev, au mois d'août 1991,
souleva de nombreuses inquiétudes sur la conduite des relations futures entre
le Québec et la Russie. En effet, pendant les quelques jours d'incertitude que
causa la tentative de putsch, le ministère des Affaires internationales du
Québec émit un communiqué mettant en garde les Québécois, qui faisaient des
affaires en Russie, « contre les risques de résiliation de contrats. » Le Québec
songea à annuler une mission commerciale en URSS qui avait été planifiée
pour l'automne 199119.
En octobre 1991, la ministre des Communautés culturelles et de l'Immigration
fit un séjour d'une semaine à Moscou. Hormis quelques rencontres avec des
représentants de la communauté juive russe, la mission de la ministre
constituait à coordonner avec les représentants de l'Ambassade du Canada à
Moscou le processus de sélection des candidats immigrants russes pour le
Québec dans le cadre des ententes entre le Québec et le gouvernement fédéral
sur la sélection des immigrants.
La mort de l'URSS à la fin de 1991 ne modifia pas énormément les relations
entre le Québec et la Russie, ni celles entre le Canada et l'ex-URSS. La
fédération de Russie devint l'État-continuateur de l'URSS et toutes les ententes
avec le gouvernement du Canada et celui du Québec furent maintenues.
En juin 1992, le président de la Russie, Boris N. Eltsine, passa quelques jours
au Canada. Eltsine profita de ce court séjour à Montréal pour visiter la ferme
expérimentale de l'université McGill et quelques entreprises de haute
technologie. Il rencontra le premier ministre du Québec, Robert Bourassa,
avec lequel il fit le bilan des relations Québec-Russie Lors d'un dîner en son
honneur, le président de la Russie vanta devant les gens d'affaires québécois
les énormes possibilités du marché russe.
Splendeurs et misères des relations Québec-Russie
La mise en oeuvre de la perestroïka, caractérisée par une ouverture du marché
soviétique aux investisseurs étrangers, souleva l'intérêt chez plusieurs
entrepreneurs québécois qui pensaient pouvoir envahir rapidement ce nouveau
marché de plus de 280 millions de consommateurs. Le responsable du dossier
URSS au ministère des Affaires internationales fut débordé de demandes de
renseignements et d'aide financière pour « prospecter » le marché soviétique.
Certains entrepreneurs québécois qui se rendîrent sur place furent rapidement
confrontés à la réalité des changements dans le système soviétique.
Le remplacement des cadres et le démantèlement de nombreux ministères et
d'entreprises étatiques créèrent un climat d'instabilité dans lequel les gens
d'affaires étrangers avaient de la difficulté à y voir clair. Par exemple, nul
n'était certain de retrouver les mêmes interlocuteurs russes et de savoir si leurs
projets cheminaient ou étaient « gelés » dans les énormes imbroglios
administratifs qui résultaient du démantèlement des anciennes structures.
Personne n'osait, du côté soviétique, s'engager personnellement à concrétiser
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Les relations Québec-Russie
une entente ou un contrat, ce qui créait des situations où l'entrepreneur étranger
pouvait attendre des mois après une signature d'un responsable.
Plusieurs firmes québécoises se montrèrent intéressées à participer dans des
entreprises mixtes (joint ventures) avec les Russes. Toutefois, les Québécois
rencontrèrent un obstacle de taille : l'impossibilité du partenaire russe à
participer au financement de l'entreprise mixte à cause du manque de liquidités
en roubles et en devises.
Quelques entreprises québécoises ont décidé d'occuper des niches spécialisées
dans lesquelles les Russes doivent obligatoirement faire appel à l'expertise
étrangère. Par exemple, la firme d'ingénierie SNC-Lavalin participe à des
projets de pipelines. D'autres entreprises offrent des services-conseils en
matière de gestion administrative.
Un important promoteur immobilier québécois travaille présentement à
convertir en immeuble à bureaux pour firmes occidentales un édifice situé sur
la place Pouchkine. Plusieurs spécialistes de l'industrie du bois tentent de faire
des percées en Russie, afin de s'approprier une part du vaste marché du bois en
Sibérie.
Malheureusement, de nombreux entrepreneurs québécois ont déchanté devant
l'incapacité de payer des Russes et le chaos légal et administratif qui peuvent
retarder, voire compromettre, la concrétisation de projets commerciaux déjà
signés. Malgré ces difficultés, d'autres entrepreneurs persévérants semblent
avoir réussi à s'implanter en Russie. Ils reconnaissent les difficultés de faire
des affaires là-bas, mais ils ont décidé de miser sur le long terme20.
Conclusion
L'éclatement de l'URSS en quinze pays indépendants, qui ont tous besoin de la
coopération technique et économique des pays occidentaux, permettra tant au
Canada qu'au Québec de nouer des relations commerciales avec ceux-ci.
Actuellement, le Québec, en collaboration avec le gouvernement canadien,
semble intéressé à s'engager vis-à-vis de l'Ukraine dans le même type de
relations qu'il entretient avec la Russie. Les républiques d'Asie centrale et du
Caucase pourraient aussi, à plus ou moins long terme, constituer des
débouchés intéressants pour plusieurs firmes québécoises.
Quoique relativement récentes, les relations entre le Québec et la Russie se
sont développées rapidement. Toutefois, à cause de la précarité de la situation
économique en Russie, la coopération économique et les échanges
commerciaux n'ont pas encore donné les résultats escomptés. Sur le plan
culturel, plusieurs projets d'exposition ainsi que de la participation d'artistes
russes à des manifestations culturelles au Québec et d'artistes québécois en
Russie se sont concrétisées au cours des dernières années. Présentement, le
Québec cible des secteurs d'activités spécifiques, comme l'aérospatiale et la
recherche biomédicale ou la géomatique, dans ses relations avec la Russie.
Pour le Québec, les relations avec la Russie ont surtout reposé sur la poursuite
d'intérêts pragmatiques — recherche de nouveaux marchés et possibilités de
diffusion culturelle — dans le cadre strict de ses compétences provinciales,
121
IJCS / RIÉC
que ce soit sous les gouvernements péquiste ou libéral. À moins d'un
changement profond du statut du Québec dans un avenir rapproché, il est à
prévoir que ce sont ces mêmes intérêts qui guideront la politique internationale
du Québec vis-à-vis la Russie et les autres États issus de l'ancienne URSS.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
Louis Balthazar, Louis Bélanger, Gordon Mace et col., Trente ans de politique extérieure du
Québec 1960-1990, Québec, Centre québécois de relations internationales. Septentrion,
1993, p.13.
Ibid., p.15.
Lors d'une conversation avec Monsieur Claude Morin, qui fut ministre des Affaires
intergouvernementales de 1976 à 1981, celui-ci m'affirma que le gouvernement Lévesque
n'avait jamais eu l'intention de se servir de ses relations extérieures pour gagner des appuis au
projet de souveraineté du Québec.
Depuis janvier 1992, la Russie est devenue un État indépendant à la suite de la fin de l'URSS.
Aloysius Balawyder, Canadian-Soviet Relations 1939-1980, Mosaic Press, Oakville, 1981,
p.178.
Gouvernement du Québec, ministère des Affaires intergouvernementales, Rapport annuel
1975/76, pp. 74-75.
Ministère des Affaires internationales du Québec, « Le point sur les échanges Canada-URSS
et Québec-URSS », p. 6.
Ces informations m'ont été transmises lors de conversations en octobre et novembre 1988
avec M. Marc Lavigueur responsable des relations Québec-URSS au MAI du Québec.
André Grenier, Fiche synthèse sur l'U.R.S.S., ministère des Affaires internationales du
Québec, août 1988, p.3.
Ibid., pp. 3-4.
Ibid., p. 7.
Gouvernement du Québec, ministère des Relations internationales, Rapport annuel
1986/87, p. 73.
Entente de coopération entre le gouvernement de la RSFSR et le gouvernement du Québec,
Montréal, 28 octobre 1988, p. 1.
Ibid.
Hélène Galarneau, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec », Études
internationales, Vol.XX, no 1, Mars, 1989, pp. 183-184. ministère des Affaires
internationales, Rapport annuel 1988-1989, Québec, 1990.
Denis Lessard, La Presse, le 26 aôut 1990.
En juin 1990, le Soviet suprême de la RSFSR avait déclaré sa souveraineté.
Ministère des Affaires internationales, Rapport de la visite du ministre de l'Industrie, du
Commerce et de la Technologie en RSFSR, Québec, septembre 1990, p. 19.
Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations internationales du Canada et du Québec, Études
internationales, Volume XXII, no 4, décembre 1991, p. 825.
Nous recommandons l'excellent article d'Angèle Dagenais, « Québec sur Moskva », publié
dans la revue L'Actualité du 1er septembre 1992.
Bibliographie
BALAWYDER, Aloysius, Canadian-Soviet Relations 1939-1980, Oakville, Mosaic Press, 1981,
222p.
BALTHAZAR, Louis, BÉLANGER, Louis, MACE, Gordon et col., Trente ans de politique
extérieure du Québec 1960-1990, Québec, Centre québécois de relations internationales/Le
Septentrion, 1993.
DUHACEK, Ivo, et al, Perforated Sovereignty and International Relations, Greenwood Press,
1988.
GALARNEAU, Hélène et TESSIER Manon, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et
du Québec » in Études internationales, Volume XIX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII nos 1,2,3,4,
Québec, CQRI, 1988-89-90-91-92.
HERVOUET, Gérard et GALARNEAU, Hélène (éd.), Présence internationale du Québec:
Chronique des années 1978-1983, Québec, CQRI, 1984.
122
Les relations Québec-Russie
McKENNA, John W., East-West Relations at the Provincial Level: Quebec and the Soviet Union
Ottawa, Carleton University (M.A. Thesis), 1986.
MORIN, Claude, L'art de l'impossible, Montréal, Boréal, 1987, 465p.
PAINCHAUD, Paul (éd.), Le Canada et le Québec sur la scène internationale, Québec, CQRI,
1977, 637p.
PATRY, André, Le Québec dans le monde, Ottawa, Leméac, 1980, 167p.
Publications gouvernementales
GRENIER, André, Fiche-synthèse sur l'U.R.S.S., Québec, ministère du Commerce extérieur et du
Développement technologique, 1988, 10p.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1965/66, ministère des Affaires culturelles,
Québec, Éditeur officiel.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1968/69, ministère des Affaires culturelles,
Québec, Éditeur officiel.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1969/70, ministère des Affaires
intergouvernementales, Québec, Éditeur officiel.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1971/72, ministère des Affaires
intergouvernementales, Québec, Éditeur officiel.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapports annuels de 1974 à 1980, ministère des Affaires
intergouvernementales, Québec, Éditeur officiel (Nous les avons regroupés pour éviter de
nombreuses répétitions).
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1984/85, ministère des Relations
internationales, Québec, les Publications du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1985/86, ministère des Relations
internationales, Québec, les Publications du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1986/87, ministère des Relations
internationales, les Publications du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1988/89, ministère des Relations
internationales, les Publications du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1989/90, ministère des Relations
internationales, les Publications du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Rapport annuel 1992/93, ministère des Affaires
internationales, les Publicatons du Québec.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, Le point sur les échanges Canada-URSS et Québec-URSS,
ministère des Affaires internationales, 1988.
GOUVERNEMENTS DU QUÉBEC ET DE LA RÉPUBLIQUE SOCIALISTE FÉDÉRATIVE
SOVIÉTIQUE DE RUSSIE, Entente de coopération, Montréal, 1988.
GOUVERNEMENT DU QUÉBEC, MINISTÈRE DES AFFAIRES INTERNATIONALES, Le
Québec et l'interdépendance, Le monde pour horizon, Québec, MAI, 1991.
Personnes-ressources
Alain Bardoux, Directeur de la Direction Europe centrale et orientale, ministère des Affaires
internationales du Québec.
Nikita Bantsekin, Directeur du centre d'Études québécoises de l'Institut du Canada et des ÉtatsUnis (ISKAN).
Alexei Birioukov, Vice-consul aux Affaires culturelles et à l'Éducation au Consulat général de la
république de Russie (anciennement l'URSS).
Henri Dorion, Directeur de la recherche au Musée du Québec, anciennement du ministère des
Relations internationales.et très impliqué dans le dossier Québec-URSS sur les questions
nordiques et culturelles.
Konstantin Grichtchenko, Ancien vice-consul aux Affaires extérieures au consulat de l'Union
soviétique à Montréal.
Marc Lavigueur, Responable du dossier Québec-URSS au ministère des Affaires internationales
du Québec.
Claude Morin, Ancien sous-ministre des Affaires intergouvernementales (1963-1971) et exministre de ce même ministère de 1976 à 1983.
André Patry, Ancien conseiller du Gouvernement du Québec en matières internationales sous
l'administration Lesage et conseiller diplomatique sous l'administration Johnson.
Richard Turcotte, Conseiller en relations internationales, Russie et Ukraine, ministère des
Affaires internationales du Québec.
123
Donald Senese
James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian
Studies
Abstract
Although scholars in England and the United States were the first to establish
Russian history as a separate academic field, it was James Mavor, a professor
of Political Economy at the University of Toronto, who published in 1914 the
first scholarly survey of Russian history written in English, An Economic
History of Russia. Mavor, whose interest in Russia had been awakened by his
work with the Doukhobors, produced the book by drawing upon the research
of contemporary Russian scholars. His early entry into the field and the
critical acclaim that his work received from specialists mark him as a pioneer
in Russian studies.
Résumé
Il n'y a pas de doute que les universitaires de l'Angleterre et des États-Unis ont
été les premiers à instituer l'histoire de la Russie en tant que domaine d'études
distinct. Mais, ce fut James Mavor, professeur d'économie politique de
l'Université de Toronto, qui publia, en 1914, le premier survol savant de
l'histoire russe écrit en anglais, An Economic History of Russia. Mavor,
intéressé à la Russie suite à son travail avec les Doukhobors, produisit cet
ouvrage en se basant sur les recherches des savants russes de son temps. Son
entrée précoce dans le domaine et une réception favorable à son travail de la
part des spécialistes dans ce domaine font de lui un des pionniers des études
russes.
Despite a popular interest in Russia that had fueled the sale of books about that
country for over three hundred years,1 at the opening of the twentieth century
there existed practically no academic or scholarly tradition of Russian studies
in the English-speaking world. This situation was bound to change. The 1890s
saw the emergence of Russia as a Great Power whose actions would
henceforth have world-wide significance. Translations of Russian novels
awoke readers everywhere to the realization that they were witnessing a
significant chapter in Europe's literary history. On a darker note, the general
revulsion felt at the Russian government's treatment of Jews and domestic
political critics ensured that Russian affairs received extensive coverage in the
western press. All these factors served to move Russia so far to the forefront of
society's concerns that scholars in both England and the United States were
able to overcome the obstacles of academic inertia and establish the study of
Russia on a professional basis as an acknowledged scholarly discipline.
Archibald Cary Coolidge made his famous “Plea for the Study of the History
of Northern Europe” to the American Historical Association in December
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
1894, an appeal that is generally accepted as the beginning of the drive to
secure a place in American universities for the study of Russian history and
culture. Events proceeded apace in England, where, starting in 1898, Bernard
Pares began to shift his career interests into Russian studies. By the outbreak of
the Great War, each country could boast of Russian or Slavonic Departments
in several of its leading universities.2
In the field of Russian History, these pre-war years were a period of gestation.
Library collections were assembled, language skills were taught, suitable
Ph.D. candidates were carefully nurtured, theses and articles were written and
more ambitious projects planned. In both England and the United States, a
generation of scholars was being trained which, after the war, would gain
international acclaim and recognition for its contribution to the field.
It is important to note, however, that throughout this time no general history of
Russia was attempted by the academic establishment of either country.
Subsequently, the pioneers of Russian studies were to reflect upon the reasons
for this lacuna. Pares stressed the difficulty of doing research and finding
reliable sources in Tsarist Russia.3 R. J. Kerner wrote of the heavy teaching
load and onerous administrative obligations of American scholars.4 The
contemporaries of Coolidge emphasized the lengthy apprenticeship he
demanded of his students. Extensive language training and long residence in
Russia were expected before any writing could be contemplated.5 While a
realistic appreciation of the difficulties entailed in opening any new field is
laudable, one is nonetheless left with the impression that this first generation of
Russian historians was to an extent overawed by the size and difficulty of their
self-appointed task, and not eager to announce to the world that it had mastered
the field by publishing a general history.
Nothing overawed James Mavor. This was probably the most important reason
why he was able to publish, in the spring of 1914, the first scholarly general
history of Russia ever written in English, An Economic History of Russia,6 two
volumes outlining the history of Russia from prehistoric times to the twentieth
century. Mavor at that time held the Chair of Political Economy and
Constitutional History at the University of Toronto, a post to which he had
been appointed in 1892 and which he was to hold until his retirement in 1923.
Mavor possessed no academic degree except an honorary Ph.D. which
Toronto had conferred on him in 1912. He had attended schools and
universities in his native Scotland, but he was largely a self-taught man. It was
his natural genius and ambition that had made him not only one of the “top ten
or twelve most distinguished English economists”7 but a renowned polymath
whose advice was solicited on an improbable range of fields as remote from
the social sciences as religion, art criticism, agriculture and chess.8
Mavor was born in 1854 in the town of Stranraer situated at the head of Loch
Ryan eighty miles south of Glasgow. His father was master of the town's Free
Church (Presbyterian) school. The destiny of Scots, Mavor believed, was to be
missionaries of civilization and progress to the world. Blessed with an
abundance of well-educated and energetic young people of both sexes, but
possessing neither the industry or natural resources to give them employment,
Scotland's mission was to provide the world with scientists, engineers,
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James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies
physicians, administrators — leaders in every field — a category to which
Mavor emphatically assigned himself. This faith in his own worth helped him
overcome the several interruptions in his formal education occasioned by
illness and financial problems, and acquire a wide-ranging expertise in both
the sciences and the humanities. During the 1870s, in Glasgow, he was an
assistant to the physicist Sir William Thomson (later Lord Kelvin) and a pupil
of the philosopher Edward Caird, who characterized him as “one of the keenest
minds he had ever met.”9
The 1880s were the most eclectic years of Mavor's career and saw his active
involvement in areas as diverse as urban housing, art criticism and socialist
politics. By the end of the decade, however, he came increasingly to be viewed
and valued as an economic analyst. He believed economics to be a science, and
he had complete confidence in his ability as an impartial empiricist to gather
whatever material was relevant to an issue, analyse it dispassionately
according to the laws of economics, and arrive at useful conclusions. Others
too felt he had this talent. His scholarly reputation was largely based upon it,
and for the remainder of his life he never lacked for commissions from private
companies, boards of trade, local and even national governments to investigate
and propose solutions to economic questions ranging from work-relief
programmes in Germany to wheat growing in the Canadian West.
In his reminiscences, My Windows on the Street of the World, published just
two years before his death in 1925, Mavor recounted how as a young boy he
listened to the tales his mother told of her father's adventures in the Baltic trade
and her own sojourn in Russia during the ice-bound winter of 1839. He
claimed that through these stories “I became more interested in Russia than in
any other foreign country.”10
It is hard to find any evidence of this interest over the first two-thirds of his life,
except for his friendship with Russian emigres such as Peter Kropotkin and
Sergius Stepniak, and even these contacts were inspired more by Mavor's
literary interests than any concern for Russian affairs. Although Mavor was
frequently on the continent and was intimately familiar with France and
Germany, he was forty-five years old before he set foot in Russia.
This trip was undertaken in connection with the settlement of the Doukhobors
in Canada in 1899. Kropotkin had written to Mavor the preceeding year to ask
his assistance in moving Dukhoubor communities to the Canadian prairies,
and Mavor in turn appealed directly to Clifford Sifton, the Minister of the
Interior, to grant the guarantees and immunities necessary to make the resettlement possible. It is for his work on behalf of the Doukhobors that Mavor
is best remembered in Canada today.
In the spring of 1899, he journeyed to the North-West Territories to oversee
personally the arrival of the first immigrants, and, in August of that year, he
travelled to Russia where at Yasnaia Poliana he met with the guardian angel of
the sect, Leo Tolstoi. Although he was only in the country for three weeks, it is
from this trip that we can date the growing fascination with Russia, its history
and its people, that was to re-shape the rest of his career.
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Sometime in early 1907, he began seriously researching the project which
would ultimately be entitled An Economic History of Russia, a title that does
not truly represent the breadth and scope of the book's contents. It is an
economic history in that it does not purport to deal in detail with battles,
treaties or palace intrigues, but what it does examine is the core and motive
force of the nation's history: the development of Russia's human and material
resources and the link between this process and her distinctive political
institutions. Mavor's discussion of the relationship between peasant
agriculture, government policy and populist revolutionary program in the
1870s is as valuable and insightful today as when it was written. Likewise his
account of the events surrounding the 1905 Revolution remains one of the best
treatments of the subject available in English.
An Economic History of Russia is as monumental in size as it is in scope.
Seventy-odd chapters and over twelve hundred pages in length, it surveys and
interprets the whole of Russian history from its beginnings down to the
establishment of a constitutional regime in 1906. The book is split into two
volumes on roughly chronological lines, the division coming in 1861 with the
emancipation of the serfs. There is a topical division as well; the first volume
deals primarily with the rise and fall of “bondage right,” Mavor's quirky term
for serfdom, while the second volume is devoted to political institutions and
the rise of the revolutionary movement.
In volume I, Mavor develops his interpretation of the mutual interdependence
between the political and social forms of Russian life and its characteristic
labour system. New demands of an expanding Muscovy led to the
establishment of serfdom, while the reforms of Peter the Great in the
eighteenth century were largely responsible for fixing serfdom's final shape as
well as determining that the institution should expand beyond the realm of
agriculture and furnish the work force of Russia's nascent industries.
Volume II is the more lively and topical half of An Economic History of Russia.
Essentially, it deals with the run-up to the 1905 revolution and presents a
detailed and nuanced history of the growth of political dissent and opposition
in Russian society. The reviewer for the English Saturday Review described
the volume as “politics pure and simple” and scolded Mavor for abandoning
his economic focus.11 In fact, Mavor was always at pains to stress the link
between the economic condition and aspirations of respective segments of
Russian society and the political movements that arose within them.
The review in the Times Literary Supplement noted this strain of economic
determinism in Mavor. “So closely, says the professor, have economical
movements in Russia been associated with political movements that
exposition of the one necessitated exposition of the other.” The reviewer
concluded that in terms of “minute knowledge of ideas, breadth of view, and
clearness of exposition,” Mavor's account of the development of Russian
institutions could only be compared to Kliuchevskii's recently translated Kurs
russkoi istorii, high praise indeed.12
How did Mavor do it? How did a man with little personal knowledge of a
country, no prior acquaintance with its culture and unable to speak or read its
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James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies
language manage to produce a creditable and respected general account of its
history and development? He did it by approaching it in the same way he
approached all the other questions which he had successfully investigated
ranging from the modalities of employers' liability to the moisture content of
prairie soil. He assembled the sources, examined the evidence, and drew
conclusions based on empirical judgement. He might have described his
methodology by paraphrasing Archimedes, “ Give me the data, and I will find
the truth.”
In this case, he began by asking his ever-widening circle of Russian
acquaintances, people of varying professions and political convictions to
recommend the best titles on essential topics in Russian history, economics
and government.13 Securing these books by gift or purchase, he employed
Russian-speaking assistants to outline their contents and make translations of
critical portions.14 This turned out to be an enormous and time-consuming
process which challenged even his limitless self-assurance,15 but when it was
completed, he could summarize the facts and arguments presented by his
sources and write up his conclusions, confident that he had produced a study
that was both scholarly and definitive.
To understand how Mavor could have planned and carried through the
production of a history of Russia in this way, two things about him have to be
borne in mind. The first was his faith in the social sciences which for him were
true sciences, i.e., disciplines that employed rigorous and dispassionate
techniques and discovered verifiable truth. He was convinced that the social
sciences could successfully bring to bear on society the same methods that the
natural sciences employed to explain the physical world.16 Allied to this was
Mavor's belief in himself. He possessed a breathtaking faith in his own powers
of intellect and freedom from bias. One has only to read the chapters in My
Windows that are devoted to Leo Tolstoi and Goodwin Smith to appreciate the
immense, almost arrogant confidence he had in his own judgement.17
Few people today would consider Mavor's qualifications or methodology
acceptable. But it should be remembered that Mavor began working on the
book in 1907 at a time when the scholarly world had not entered into the era of
compartmentalization and professionalization and when specialist credentials
and mastery of languages were not yet regarded as indispensable prerequisites
for creditable work. Very instructive in this regard was the reaction of the
young Russian specialists who had been working to make the nascent field of
Russian studies an established academic discipline. One might expect them to
have shown some resentment towards the sudden appearance of a Canadian
“spoiler” who had rushed into print with a book so much more ambitious than
anything they had yet ventured to undertake. Instead, almost without
exception, they had high praise for An Economic History.
Writing in the American Historical Review, R. J. Kerner, a Harvard Ph.D.
trained in the Archy Coolidge tradition, described the book as a “pioneer
work,” and predicted that it would “long remain the best general account of the
economic history of Russia in the Western European languages, if not in any
language.”18 Samuel Northrup Harper of the University of Illinois seemed to
welcome Mavor into the brotherhood of professional Russian studies. While
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pointing out what he considered Mavor's errors and omissions in a review
written for the American Political Science Review, he concluded by observing
that “such books are necessary at the beginning, and we are at last at the
beginning of an effort to develop the serious study of things Russian, both in
England and in America.”19
The most laudatory scholarly review was written by Alexander Kaun of the
University of California for the Political Science Quarterly. Kaun, a Russian
emigre, was intimately acquainted with contemporary Russian historical
writing. He wrote that “Professor Mavor's work is even broader than its title
indicates; in breadth of scope and up-to-dateness, in fact, it has no parallel even
in the Russian language,” adding later in the review an observation that must
have been particularly gratifying for Mavor, “He enjoys an important
advantage over Russian writers — the clear perspective of an impartial
observer.”20
All of the scholarly reviews noted the scrapbook, compilitory nature of the
work. Thus, Harper wrote: “There are certain books which every student of
Russian history must use....Mr. Mavor has done a great service by giving full
excerpts and citations from these books.”21 Kerner quoted from Mavor's
preface to stress that the aim of the book was “to present to English readers the
main results of recent historical researches which have been conducted by
various Russian scholars.”22
Far from being a focus of criticism, however, Russian specialists welcomed
Mavor's marshalling of sources as an aid to their own research and teaching.
When he learned that Mavor was planning a second edition of An Economic
History, Kerner wrote, “We are all your debtors. You have done the Englishreading public a great service. My students are constantly being assigned
portions of your work in courses on Russia and Contemporary Europe.”23
Kaun who was just completing his magisterial translation of Kornilov's
Modern Russian History, wrote, “I have quoted your Economic History of
Russia, particularly revolutionary documents which I have not been able to
obtain in the original, or where your translation appeared to be ne plus ultra.”24
On the eve of his departure for Russia in 1925 on a research trip that would
result in the classic study, Rural Russia under the Old Regime, Geroid
Tanquary Robinson wrote to Mavor asking him to suggest the names of active
scholars working on the agrarian problem in Russia. Referring to An Economic
History, he assured Mavor that “this work has been of very great service to me
in the conduct of my lectures on Russian history at Columbia University.”25
One criticism voiced by all scholars in reviews and correspondence was
directed at Mavor's transliteration of Russian terms. In a field that was striving
to achieve professional status and common tools of communication this was a
much more important issue than it is today, and Mavor's transliteration, or
rather transcription, of Russian terms was inconsistent and frequently
senseless. Still, the storm of criticism that descended on him over this
essentially technical point seems strangely disproportionate especially
considering the substantive methodological problems in An Economic History
that either went unnoticed or were passed over in silence.
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James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies
Leo Wiener of Harvard, admittedly a difficult and prickly personality, sent to
Mavor's publisher a “letter of almost rabid criticism” of his transliteration and
handling of Russian terms. Wiener's prophesy that because of these errors the
book would “be attacked in some of the principal papers in America” threw the
publishers into a panic.26 Even the sympathetic Kerner felt constrained to
criticise Mavor's transliteration in his AHR review, and, when Mavor wrote to
complain, held his ground, saying, “I am sure I cannot agree with your
position.”27
Mavor was forced to yield this point. In the preface to the second edition of the
book published in 1925, he acknowledged that his “system” of transliteration
was “probably more open to criticism than any of the others,” and confessed
that if the current edition could be totally re-set, he would adopt the system
then employed by the School of Slavonic Studies of the University of
London.28
His retreat on the matter of transliteration in all likelihood was connected with
feelings of inadequacy, quite uncharacteristic of him, which resulted from his
inability to read Russian. Mavor never hid this fact, but all his North American
and English reviewers, for some reason, chose to believe he had personally
done the research and translation himself. Along with comments on his
extensive residence in Russia (he had revisited Russia in 1910, but his total
personal experience with that country did not exceed ten weeks), reviews
frequently mentioned his command of the Russian language. Not a person to
sail under false colours and proud of his ability in other European languages,
Mavor felt keenly his lack of skill in Russian and planned to remedy that
defect.
Although An Economic History was not marketed in Russia, Mavor was eager
that the book be reviewed in the Russian press. By-passing his publishers,
Mavor relied on the judgement of his principal Russian collaborator,
Panteleimon Petrovich Nikolaev, to choose journals that might be expected to
review the work favourably. Nikolaev had worked on the manuscript with
Mavor in Toronto for almost two years and after returning to Moscow had
continued to correct page proofs that Mavor sent him. Now he personally
delivered copies of the book to reviewers of select Russian journals.29
In general, Russian reviews of An Economic History of Russia were strongly
positive, though not to the same degree as North American and English
reviews. A goodly portion of the reviews were taken up with criticism of minor
errors of fact or interpretation. More importantly, it was noted the greater part
of volume I was drawn from the work of only a handful of Russian scholars.
Reviewers were aware that Mavor could not read Russian and had limited
personal experience with the country. Thus George Vernadsky [G. V.
Vernadskii] wrote that he was struck by the absence of serious errors and
confusion in the handling of documents that were of a language and culture
foreign to the author,30 and V. I. Semevskii pointed out that Mavor had gained
his acquaintanceship with Russian scholarly literature through the oral
translations of his Russian assistants.31
131
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The reviews all stressed that the great value of the book lay in its accurate
portrayal of Russia's past to English readers. Semevskii, a specialist on peasant
and agrarian history, compared the importance of Mavor's work to that of
Donald Mackenzie Wallace and to English translations of Stepniak [S. M.
Kravchinskii] and Paul Miliukov adding “but in terms of its scope nothing like
Mavor's work has yet appeared in English on Russian history.”32 George
Vernadsky, himself destined to become an important interpretor of Russia to
the English-speaking world after his emigration to the United States in 1927,
wrote that “ Professor Mavor's work holds great interest for the WesternEuropean and American reader.”33
There was unanimity as well in the reviewers' assessment of the value An
Economic History had for the Russian reader. Volume I, drawn as it was from a
few standard and readily available sources,34 was judged to hold little or no
interest for Russians. The case was far different with volume II. Centering
upon issues still current and controversial and based upon a wide range of
material, some of it as yet unpublished in Russia, volume II was deemed to
have the potential for wide appeal inside Russia. At the conclusion of his
review, Semevskii urged that it be translated and published in Russian.35
Mavor was already exploring that possibility. Indeed, that was chiefly why he
was so eager to have the book reviewed in the Russian press. In late 1913, when
the manuscript was still in galleys, he induced his publisher, J. M. Dent, to set
up in cyrillic typescript a Russian translation of a single page from volume I.
Impressively handsome as this page was, production costs were prohibitive.
Dent estimated that a Russian-language edition would run to “practically three
times the cost of doing it in English,” and added wryly, “I am afraid that your
philanthropic friend will be rather startled at the cost.”36
Mavor's philanthopic friend was Nikolai Petrovich Shakhov, a wealthy
resident of Moscow and financial backer of educational initiatives, who had
led Mavor to believe that he would underwrite the cost of translating and
printing An Economic History in Russian. Nikolaev who was living in
Moscow and revising the proofs for the book agreed to act as Mavor's
intermediary in dealing with Shakhov. According to Nikolaev's account,
Shakhov began at once to find difficulties with the plan and to put so many new
conditions on his participation that negotiations dragged on into the summer of
1914 when the outbreak of war forced the abandonment of the entire project.37
The war caused Mavor to abandon as well his plans for another trip to Russia.
Tentatively scheduled for that summer, it was to be of far longer duration than
his previous visits and was to have a dual purpose, gathering material for a
third volume of An Economic History and, more significantly, immersing
himself in Russian life, language, customs and culture. Nikolaev volunteered
to personally tutor him in Russian.38
One must marvel at Mavor's courage in making these plans at the age of sixty
and wonder how far he might have gone in shifting his professional career into
Russian studies had the war not intervened. Certainly in 1914 he was moving
towards the assumption that had guided professional Slavists from the
beginning: that any attempt to understand Russia should proceed from a basis
132
James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies
of profound and personal knowledge of that country and its culture. As it was,
he remained until his death Canada's “foremost authority on Russia,”39 in great
demand as a lecturer and author of occasional pieces on contemporary
developments in Russia and the policies of the Soviet regime. Even after his
retirement from the University of Toronto, the academic world of Russian and
Slavic specialists continued to seek his membership on editorial boards and
solicit his recommendations for faculty appointments.
One question which remains unanswered is why Mavor did not do more to
advance the cause of Russian studies within his bailiwick at the University of
Toronto. As Professor of Political Economy and Constitutional History, he
was “permanent monarchical Head of the nascent Department” with broad
powers to shape its curriculum and an authority over hiring which was subject
only to the veto of the University's President.40 A study of Mavor's papers does
not yield any definitive answer to this question, but several tentative
explanations may be offered. First, the shortage of money during Mavor's
tenure forced him to carefully priorize new appointments. The Department
expanded, but only in well-defined directions. His most cherished curriculum
innovation was the introduction of a Commerce and Finance program in 1909.
In the years that followed, growth of the Department's teaching staff was
closely tied to the establishment and strengthening of this ground-breaking
initiative.
Perhaps just as important was Mavor's dislike of teaching specialties. He
wanted his staff to be “generalists” able to range freely across artificial barriers
of culture and discipline, and endow their undergraduate lectures with a wider
and more varied vision. This dislike of the “specialist” was one of the sources
of his feud with the Canadian historian George Wrong who worked under
Mavor in the Department of Political Economy until 1905 and who irritated
him by advocating specialized teaching fields within a tutorial format.41
Finally, it is quite possible that Mavor felt that Political Economy had no need
of another expert in Russia since he already possessed all the knowledge of that
country that the Department could use.
It is the failure to further the establishment of formal Russian studies at the
University of Toronto that justifies the harsh judgement made of Mavor that he
“founded no school and left no successors.”42 This is entirely correct, and it
might with equal justice be noted that his contribution to Russian studies, the
Economic History, was produced by a process of compilation and synthesis of
secondary works that essentially added nothing to the specialist's knowledge
of Russia. On the other hand, the very fact that he was the first scholar to
attempt a general treatment of Russian history in English, as well as the
universal acclaim with which this book was greeted by the best qualified
Slavists of the day, ensure his place as a genuine pioneer of Russian studies, not
only in Canada, but in the English-speaking world.
Notes
1.
The accounts of Jerome Horsey and Giles Fletcher were published in England before the end
of the sixteenth century.
133
IJCS / RIÉC
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
134
Harvard, Columbia, Chicago, and the University of California (Berkeley) in the United
States. Oxford, Cambridge, Liverpool, Manchester and the University of London in
England.
Bernard Pares, “English Books on Soviet Russia,” The Slavonic and East European Review,
10 (April 1932): 525.
Robert J. Kerner, “Slavonic Studies in America,” The Slavonic and East European Review, 3
(December 1924): 249.
Robert F. Byrnes, “Archibald Cary Coolidge: A Founder of Russian Studies in the United
States,” Slavic Review, 37 (December l978 ): 656-658.
(London & Toronto: J. M. Dent & Sons, 1914).
William J. Ashley, his predecessor in the Chair of Political Economy, quoted in S. E. D.
Shortt, The Search for an Ideal: Six Canadian Intellectuals and their Convictions in an Age
of Transition (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976), p. 122.
In addition to Shortt, The Search for an Ideal, biographical material on Mavor has been
drawn from his reminiscences, My Windows on the Street of the World, 2 vols. (London and
Toronto: J.M. Dent & Sons, 1923), Edgar Pelham, “James Mavor,” Proceedings and
Transactions of the Royal Society of Canada, Series III, 20 (1926), and obituaries in the New
York Times, 2 November 1925, and The Times (London), 3 November 1925. His papers are
in the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library of the University of Toronto: Ms Collection 119,
Mavor, James, hereafter cited as Mavor Papers.
Shortt, The Search for an Ideal, p. 121.
Mavor, My Windows, p. 26.
“A Great Book on Russia,” Saturday Review, 8 August 1914, p. 178.
“Russia and Her Revolutions,” Times Literary Supplement, 9 July 1914, p. 327.
Mavor Papers, letters of P. Kropotkin, Box 10B, File 9, F. Volkhovsky, Box 17, File 58, V.
Sviatlovski, Box 16, File 92, A. Gryaznov, Box 7A, File 87.
Mavor Papers, letter of Mavor to N.P. Shakhov, 21/8 February 1914, Box 2B, File 24.
Mavor Papers, letter of Mavor to Kropotkin, 8 March 1910, Box 10B, File 17.
Shortt, The Search for an Ideal, p. 128.
In his review of My Windows Maurice Hutton commented wryly on Mavor's penchant for
cold-bloodedly analysing his friends. Canadian Historical Review, 5 (March 1924): 80.
Vol. 21 (April 1916): 578.
Vol. 9 (February 1915): 176.
Vol. 32 (June 1917): 333-334.
American Political Science Review, 9 (February 1915): 175.
American Historical Review, 21 (April 1916): 575.
Mavor Papers, letter, 20 August 1923, Box 10A, File 35.
Mavor Papers, letter, 26 October 1916, Box 10A, File 17.
Mavor Papers, letter, 18 August 1924, Box 14, File 112.
Mavor Papers, letter, 18 January 1916, Box 4B, File 53.
Mavor Papers, letter, 2 May 1916, Box 10A, File 35.
(London and Toronto: J.M. Dent & Sons, 1925) 1: vii-viii.
Mavor Papers, letter of A. Brime [pseud. of P.P. Nikolaev], 29 December 1915 (o.s.), Box
2B, File 24.
Russkaia mysl', 36 (September 1915): 5.
Golos minuvshego, 3 (November 1915): 304.
Ibid., p. 303-304.
Russkaia mysl', 36 (September 1915): 4-5.
Indeed, over ninety percent of the citations in volume I were taken from just four Russian
authors: V.O. Kliuchevskii, A.A. Kornilov, V.I. Semevskii, and M. I. Tugan-Baronovskii.
Golos minuvshego, 3 (November 1915): 309.
Mavor Papers, letter with enclosure, 17 December 1913, Box 4B, File 52.
Mavor Papers, letter of A. Brime, 29 December 1915 (o.s.), Box 2B, File 24.
Mavor Papers, letter of A. Brime, 2/15 December 1913, Box 2B, File 24.
Mavor Papers, letter of A.B. Bennett to Mavor, 7 May 1919, Box 2A, File 26.
Ian M. Drummond with the assistance of William Kaplan, Political Economy at the
University of Toronto: A History of the Department, 1888-1982 (Toronto: Faculty of Arts
and Science, University of Toronto, 1983), p. 30.
James Mavor: Canadian Pioneer of Russian Studies
41.
42.
Robert Bothwell, Laying the Foundation: A Century of History at the University of Toronto
(Toronto: Department of History, University of Toronto, 1991), p. 38.
Thomas M. Prymak, “George Simpson, the Ukrainian Canadians and the `Pre-History' of
Slavic Studies in Canada,” Saskatchewan History, 41 (Spring 1988): 64, note.
Bibliography
“A Great Book on Russia.” Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In
Saturday Review, 118 (8 August 1914): 178.
Bothwell, Robert. Laying the Foundation: A Century of History at the University of Toronto.
Toronto: Department of History, University of Toronto, 1991.
Drummond, Ian M. with the assistance of William Kaplan. Political Economy at the University of
Toronto: A History of the Department, 1888-1982. Toronto: Faculty of Arts and Science,
University of Toronto, 1983.
Dzhivelegov, A. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In Russkie
vedomosti, 24 January 1915, pp. 12-14.
Harper, Samuel N. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In American
Political Science Review 9 (February 1915): 174-176.
Hutton, Maurice. Review of My Windows on the Street of the World, by James Mavor. In
Canadian Historical Review 5 (March 1924): 79-84.
Kaun, Alexander S. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In Political
Science Quarterly 32 (June 1917): 333-335.
Kerner, R. J. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In American Historical
Review 21 (April 1916): 575-578.
________. “Slavonic Studies in America.” Slavonic and East European Review 3 (December
1924): 243-258.
Kropotkin, P. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In The Nation
(London), 16 (January 30 1915): 560-562.
Mavor, James. Ms Collection 119 at the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto.
________. An Economic History of Russia. 2 vols. London & Toronto: J.M. Dent & Sons, 1914.
________. An Economic History of Russia. 2 vols. 2nd ed, London & Toronto: J.M. Dent & Sons,
1925.
________. My Windows on the Street of the World. 2 vols. London & Toronto: J.M. Dent & Sons,
1923.
Pares, Bernard. “English Books on Soviet Russia.” Slavonic and East European Review 10 (April
1932): 525-546.
Pelham, Edgar. “James Mavor.” in Proceedings and Transactions of the Royal Society of Canada
Series 3, 20 (1926): xiii-xvi.
Prymak, Thomas M. “George Simpson, the Ukrainian Canadians and the `Pre-History' of Slavic
Studies in Canada.” Saskatchewan History, 41 (Spring 1988): 52-66.
“Russia and her Revolutions.” Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In
Times Literary Supplement, 13 (9 July 1914): 327.
Semevskii, V. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In Golos minuvshego 3
(November 1915): 303-309.
Shortt, S.E.D. The Search for an Ideal: Six Canadian Intellectuals and their Convictions in an Age
of Transition. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976.
Vernadskii, G. Review of An Economic History of Russia, by James Mavor. In Russkaia mysl' 36
(September 1915): 4-6.
135
Jean-Guy Lalande
Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
Résumé
D'abord peu sympathiques envers la Russie tsariste, les journaux canadiens,
une fois la guerre déclarée, adoptent une attitude favorable à l'endroit de ce
nouvel allié, maintenant engagé dans une lutte décisive contre l'autocratisme
prussien. La presse canadienne a fait preuve d'imagination et d'hypocrisie en
s'efforçant de découvrir une nouvelle Russie, régénérée et transformée par les
pressions et le fléau de la guerre.
Abstract
Although initially reticent towards Russia, Canadian newspapers had to
change their opinion about that country since both Canada and Russia were
now fighting on the same side of a decisive war against Prussian autocracy.
The press showed a great deal of imagination and hypocrisy in its efforts to
discover a new Russia, regenerated and transformed by the stress and the
exigencies of a world war.
The vigorous campaigns against Russia have merely resulted in a
state of affairs that might be illustrated by a picture of a giant
wounded by the darts of an army of dwarfs. The darts, though
numerous and well-aimed, merely puncture the skin of the giant,
whom the dwarfs can never bring down (Vancouver Sun, 20-X-1915,
p. 4).
When your house is afire you cannot stop to examine the moral
credentials of all who volunteer to throw a ladder or handle a bucket
(Christian Guardian, 14-X-1914, p. 7).
Toute guerre d'envergure, en raison de ses terribles exigences, soulève
d'intenses passions. Naturellement, celles-ci se manifestent d'abord dans
l'arène nationale, mais, du fait de l'omniprésence et des enjeux de la guerre,
elles débordent rapidement les frontières du pays et colorent peu à peu la
perception des différents belligérants sur la scène internationale. Que pensent
les Canadiens d'alors de la Russie impériale? L'histoire orale ne pouvant être,
en ce cas, que d'une utilité très marginale et à une époque où les sondages
d'opinion publique n'existent pas, une réponse à cette question réside peut-être
dans l'étude des pages éditoriales des nombreux journaux et revues publiés à
cette époque. Bien que très révélateur, un tel exercice ne revêt toutefois aucune
valeur scientifique — ne serait-ce qu'en raison de la faible connaissance de
l'histoire de ce pays, des limites imposées aux éditorialistes canadiens par la
réalité de la censure et des difficultés à déchiffrer, derrière l'épais nuage de
rhétorique, de mythes et de demi-vérités créé et entretenu par un climat de crise
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
aiguë, la pensée véritable des hommes qui se dissimulent sous le couvert de
l'anonymat d'éditoriaux non signés (la seule exception étant Le Devoir). Si
aucun des journaux canadiens ne défend une ligne de pensée précise et
élaborée, l'ensemble des opinions, remarques et commentaires glanés dans les
pages éditoriales de journaux et de revues fort divers quant à la langue
(anglaise et française), à leur allégeance politique (conservateurs et libéraux),
à leur provenance géographique (Maritimes, Québec, Ontario et Prairies) et à
l'auditoire ciblé (catholiques et protestants, fermiers, ouvriers, hommes
d'affaires et intellectuels) permet néanmoins de tracer une image fort
intéressante de ce grand pays. À un moment où la Russie (non plus celle des
tsars, certes!) cherche à tisser des liens à la fois plus solides et plus amicaux
avec le Canada, il me semble intéressant de retracer — ne serait-ce que pour
nous convaincre de la nécessité de toujours maintenir un esprit critique à
l'endroit de la presse écrite et électronique — les principales coordonnées
d'une telle perception, si partielles et partiales soient-elles. L'étude portera sur
deux thèmes bien précis : les décisives opérations militaires de 1915 et la
perception d'ensemble de la Russie tsariste durant les années de guerre1.
* * *
Inquiets des effets qu'une avance trop prononcée des Russes dans les Carpates
aurait sur la volonté de résistance de l'empire des Habsbourgs
(particulièrement la Hongrie), désireux d'écarter toute possibilité d'invasion de
l'empire allemand par la route menant de la Pologne (russe) à la Silésie, puis à
Berlin, et préoccupés par l'initiative alliée aux Dardanelles (son succès, en
renforçant la Russie, rendrait impossible toute négociation de paix séparée
avec l'empire des tsars), les Allemands lancent, de concert avec les AustroHongrois, une grande offensive, le 2 mai 1915. L'endroit est bien choisi : la
frange nord des Carpates — là où les Russes se rapprochent le plus de Cracovie
—, plus précisément entre Tarnow et Gorlice. La XIe armée allemande et la
IVe armée austro-hongroise y bénéficient d'une supériorité d'artillerie; cela
leur permet d'anéantir rapidement les tranchées ennemies (moins formidables
que sur le front occidental), les fils de fer barbelés et les lignes téléphoniques
des Russes, surpris par l'ampleur de l'attaque. L'impact de ces bombardements
(et de l'avance ennemie qui se développe sur un front de plus en plus large) est
terrible : les Allemands font subir à la IIIe armée russe — stratégiquement
isolée, manquant de réserves et d'obus, mal protégée sur ses arrières — des
pertes énormes; de plus, les Russes doivent, pour ne pas être encerclés sur leurs
arrières, se retirer, non sans difficultés, des passes des Carpates où certaines
unités s'étaient avancées assez loin. Malgré quelques courageuses contreoffensives, les VIIIe, IXe et XIe armées russes abandonnent la Galicie :
Przemysl est évacuée au début de juin et la IIe armée austro-hongroise entre à
Lemberg, le 22 du même mois. Rassuré par la situation de ses armées sur les
fronts franco-britannique et italien, Falkenhayn décide de poursuivre son
offensive sur le front oriental. Les forces russes situées en Pologne sont
maintenant menacées par un mouvement de pinces à partir de la Prusse
orientale et de la Galicie. La Stavka (le quartier général), d'abord opposée à
l'abandon de la Pologne (pour des raisons politiques, surtout) et confiante que
le réseau de forteresses pourra arrêter les poursuivants, ne se décide qu'assez
138
Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
tard et à contrecoeur à battre la retraite. Elle s'y résout parce que l'avance
allemande est irrésistible : venant du Sud, Mackensen s'empare, fin juillet, de
Lublin et de Cholm; venand du Nord, la XIIe armée allemande repousse les 1re
et XIIe armées russes. Varsovie capitule, le 4 août 1915. Le mois d'août allait
apporter au kaiser d'autres bonnes nouvelles : ainsi, l'une après l'autre, les
forteresses, jusque-là réputées imprenables par plusieurs membres du hautcommandement russe, tombent — Kovno, Novogeorgievsk, Osovets et BrestLitovsk, dans la seconde moitié du mois d'août; Grodno, le 2 septembre, et
Vilna, le 18 du même mois. L'insuffisance des armements et des munitions,
une coopération inadéquate entre commandants de corps russes, de même que
l'imagination d'un commandement ennemi toujours en éveil et prêt à exploiter
ses premiers succès expliquent ces pertes de terrain considérables. L'avance
allemande et austro-hongroise est finalement contrée en octobre — en raison
de la fatigue des poursuivants, de leurs problèmes d'approvisionnement, de la
température qui, alliée à la topographie du sol, rendent maintenant difficile
tout mouvement en avant d'envergure, de la résistance des Russes, tant au Nord
qu'au Sud, et, enfin, des réticences de Falkenhayn, peu enclin à s'engager
davantage en territoire russe où il ne voit pas, contrairement à Hindenburg et à
Ludendorff, la possibilité de gagner la guerre, et surtout désireux, en retirant à
la Serbie le contrôle du chemin de fer menant à Constantinople, d'apporter à la
Turquie, son alliée, les approvisionnements dont elle a grandement besoin.
Malgré ce temps d'arrêt, les Allemands peuvent se réjouir des succès
remportés : les Russes ont perdu, en quantité, du matériel militaire, du terrain
(Courlande, Lituanie, Pologne (russe), Galicie, sauf Tarnopol et ses environs,
et Boukovine) et plus de deux millions d'hommes, dont environ la moitié allait
aider, en tant que prisonniers de guerre, à la poursuite des hostilités; en outre,
cette série de revers a sérieusement affecté le moral des troupes. Finalement, la
situation fut très pénible pour des milliers de réfugiés, surtout polonais et juifs,
refoulés souvent de force (à cause de la politique de la terre brûlée pratiquée
par les retraitants) en territoire russe et traînant, pour autant que le choléra les
eût épargnés, leurs misères et leurs pénates le long de routes peu nombreuses,
en plusieurs endroits en assez mauvais état et surtout encombrées.
L'ampleur des revers subis par les armées russes, tout au cours des mois de mai
à septembre 1915, est telle que la presse canadienne ne peut — à contrecoeur,
certes — qu'en reconnaître le caractère inquiétant : ainsi, au lendemain de la
chute de la forteresse de Kovno, Le Devoir (19-VIII-1915, p. 1) reconnaît que
« la situation de l'armée russe est pleine de péril »; de façon plus dramatique
encore, le Mail and Empire (30-VIII-1915, p. 6) conclut : « [W]ithout a doubt
the Russian forces have received a battering with scarcely a parallel in
history. »
Ces quelques remarques, toutefois, n'expriment pas toute la pensée de leurs
auteurs; en effet, ces mêmes éditorialistes, tout en signalant ces reculs de
l'armée russe, s'empressent d'avancer un nombre impressionnant d'arguments
dans le but de rassurer l'opinion canadienne. Leur verdict est unanime : la
situation militaire de notre alliée russe est loin d'être désespérée.
L'explication que la presse canadienne donne de ces revers est bien simple : la
Russie paie le prix d'une trop lente industrialisation. Ses insuccès sont dus
139
IJCS / RIÉC
essentiellement à l'insuffisance de ses munitions de guerre et à un système
ferroviaire inadéquat; d'ailleurs, note avec assurance le Hamilton Spectator (5VII- 1915, p. 6), « [i]f there had been plenty of munitions for the guns and
ammunition for the small arms, we feel sure there need have been no retreat at
all. » Heureusement, cependant, cet épineux problème est maintenant en voie
d'être résolu, tant à l'intérieur de la Russie par une mobilisation de ses
industries de guerre qu'à l'extérieur par l'aide matérielle de ses alliés (leur
initiative dans la région des Détroits, par exemple).
Il existe, toutefois, une réalité plus fondamentale : blessée, la Russie n'est ni
démoralisée ni vaincue. Le Manitoba Free Press (31-VIII-1915, p. 9) exprime
l'opinion générale lorsqu'il écrit : « [b]y all the rules of the game the Russian
army should be down and out, at the mercy of the Teutonic conqueror. But the
Russian army remains unbeaten, its lines unbroken, its spirit unquenched. »
Battue donc, la Russie ne peut l'être de façon définitive en raison de son effort
militaire, mais aussi de ses espaces infinis : « [t]erritory is nothing to them (...).
They have the greater part of two Continents behind them over which to
manoeuvre » (Canadian Courier, 10-VII-1915, p. 10); de sa topographie et de
son climat bien particulier : « [l]ike a bear assailed by bees, Russia recoils,
totters, half-blinded, but the winter kills the bees and the bear will get over his
wounds » (London Advertiser, 6-IX-1915, p. 4); du facteur temps : « as it is a
test of endurance, she (la Russie) will be able to wear Germany down »
(Journal of Commerce, 31-VII-1915, p. 4); et, surtout, de ses ressources
humaines et matérielles, énormes, inépuisables et supérieures à celles des
Allemands et des Austro-Hongrois.
De plus, ce repli en bon ordre, ce recul volontaire (l'impression se dégage
parfois que celui-ci n'a pas été provoqué par l'ennemi!), en attirant plus avant
ce dernier en pays russe, étirent ses lignes de communication tout en
l'éloignant de ses bases de ravitaillement et, surtout, épuisent ses armées et ses
munitions; par contre, les armées russes, tout en rectifiant la ligne de leur front,
se rapprochent de leurs sources d'approvisionnement et ne reculent qu'en
laissant leurs empreintes sur l'ennemi : « [l']ours moscovite ne recule jamais
sans jouer des griffes » (La Presse, 5-VIII-1915, p. 2). Ce thème de la retraite,
comme bien d'autres, donne lieu, dans la presse canadienne, à des
exagérations, lesquelles se manifestent aussi bien au début du recul des armées
russes :
[i]n the ordinary war a retreat is considered a disgrace. In this war,
however, which is not at all ordinary, Grand Duke Nicholas, of the
Russian army, has shown how a great retreat, properly managed, can
be made more disastrous to the opposing force than it is to the
retreating army (Calgary Herald, 28-V-1915, p. 6; Vancouver
Province, 2-VI-1915, p. 6)
qu'au terme de cette grande marche-arrière :
[t]he Russian armies, all through this long period, have been
retreating, but they have remained intact and have inflicted losses on
the aggressors within a fraction as heavy as they have themselves
sustained (Edmonton Journal, 27-IX--1915, p. 4).
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
Enfin, argument ultime (tiré de l'histoire et donc absolument convaincant!) : le
souvenir de l'année 1812, celui de la Russie vainqueur de Bonaparte! Or,
soutient le Manitoba Free Press (22-IX-1915, p. 9, : « the spirit of 1812 lives
again today » et, s'il est vrai qu'une guerre moderne se mène différemment, la
Russie actuelle « is [s]till the Russia that [b]affled Napoleon » (Toronto
Telegram, 22-VII-1915, p. 8).
Si de tels arguments ne parviennent pas à éliminer les doutes des derniers
incrédules, ils peuvent toujours s'en remettre à la lecture de ces lignes, souvent
enflammées, célébrant les qualités multiples du soldat russe : sa bravoure, sa
persévérance, sa patience, son courage, son patriotisme authentique, son
ardeur au combat, son obéissance, sa grande force de récupération, son esprit
de sacrifice, sa foi religieuse, simple, sincère, profondément enracinée dans
tout son être : « [t]his war is a kind of holy war to him », soutient le Vancouver
Sun (26-VII-1915, p. 4) et, développant le même argument, le Vancouver
Province (29-VII-1915, p. 6) conclut :
[w]ith these men patriotism is a religion; a death on the battlefield is a
thing to be desired rather than shunned. For it must always be
understood that the element of religion enters into Russian fighting.
Strong as giants, simple as children, mystically superstitious, they go
into the fray with a zeal surpassing even that of Cromwell's praying
soldiers.
Qui plus est, ces qualités, manifestées de brillante façon et dans des conditions
de lutte absolument pénibles, sinon impossibles, justifient parfaitement le
choix de l'ours comme emblème national! Bref, cet ensemble impressionnant
de qualités assure, hors de tout doute, à l'armée russe de meilleurs lendemains :
si, même handicapée, la Russie s'est bien comportée, l'ennemi n'a qu'à bien se
tenir lorsqu'elle sera vraiment prête!
En effet, cet ensemble d'avantages que possède la Russie, doublé de la volonté
générale de poursuivre la guerre jusqu'à la victoire finale, constitue la
meilleure assurance que notre alliée pourra, dans un premier temps, supporter
courageusement les assauts répétés de l'ennemi, pour ensuite reprendre
l'offensive de façon convaincante, voire décisive. Inspiré par le souvenir tout
récent de l'automne 1914, ce thème d'un retour en force revient d'ailleurs à tout
moment au cours de ces mois tragiques. Dès les débuts de la percée ennemie, le
Ottawa Citizen (5-V-1915, p 12) donne le ton :
[e]very defeat of the bear in this war has been followed, almost at
once, by a counter-attack and advance by the supposedly
demoralized Russian armies. The present instance will no doubt see a
similar development.
La contre-offensive reste, pour la presse canadienne, une certitude puisque la
Russie a les hommes et aura, bientôt, des munitions en quantités suffisantes.
Cette conception toute mécanique de la guerre, le Halifax Chronicle (19-X1915, p. 6) l'exprime très clairement lorsqu'il écrit : « Russia is simply a
military `punching bag'. The more forcibly she is driven back, the swifter and
harder is her return. » Ainsi donc, même aux heures les plus sombres de l'année
1915, l'image, si rassurante, du rouleau-compresseur russe ne s'était pas encore
estompée! Certes, elle a perdu de son éclat, mais il était impossible alors
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d'oublier que, même immobile, l'armée russe retenait l'ennemi sur le front
oriental et, de ce fait, empêchait tout transfert important des forces ennemies
d'Est en Ouest.
Forte de toutes ces assurances, la presse canadienne estime que la situation
d'ensemble, en dépit des difficultés passagères, reste favorable à notre alliée
slave. Vue sous cet angle, la retraite — momentanée — des armées russes
prend une tout autre signification : admirablement bien réussie, elle devient
« far more a matter of strategy than of necessity », soutient le Western
Methodist Recorder (July 1915, p. 8). Choisir délibérément la retraite, se
refuser à risquer une bataille décisive dans des conditions désavantageuses,
cela ne s'appelle-t-il pas du grand art militaire? À la limite, une telle approche
touche, à nouveau, à l'exagération : « [a]s a military feat the retreat of the Grand
Duke is almost more remarkable than the advance of the Germans »
(Vancouver Province, 28-VIII-1915, p. 6).
Ce torrent d'appréciations favorables se déverse également sur le responsable
de ce mouvement vers l'arrière des armées russes : le grand-duc Nicholas N. Ce
Charles XII du XXe siècle, ce « second Kutusov » (Manitoba Free Press, 2-X1915, p. 13), cet homme génial qui, dans l'art si difficile et si impopulaire de la
retraite, « is in a class by himself » (Calgary Herald, 12-VIII-1915, p. 6), la
presse canadienne le félicite pour avoir, comme ses illustres prédécesseurs,
bien saisi tout le caractère tactique, voire stratégique que revêt la retraite de ses
armées; en effet, soutient le Montreal Star (29-VI-1915, p. 10), « [l]oss of
territory means nothing. That can be recovered. But trained troops cannot be
hastily improvised. » Ce premier avantage, déjà considérable, deviendra
ultimement irrésistible parce que doublé d'un emprunt au livre de
Vercingétorix : « [t]he Russians have fired villages, crops and even haystacks
as they fell back, and thus have added vastly to the difficulties of the German
offensive (Manitoba Free Press, 2-X-1915, p. 13). Somme toute, conclut le
Mail and Empire (30-VIII-1915, p. 6), « [w]ith dextrous poise, he stalls and
parries like a gook boxer until the whirlwind rain of blows passes, and he can
set himself for the return rush. »
La décision du tsar Nicholas II, inspirée à la fois par une crainte jalouse de la
popularité, en certains milieux, du grand-duc Nicholas N. et par la conviction
profonde que son devoir lui commande de se rapprocher de ses soldats qui
viennent de subir une série de revers, de remplacer le grand-duc Nicholas N. à
la tête des armées russes et d'assumer lui-même cette lourde tâche (5-IX-1915,
n.s.), étonne et suscite, au départ, un certain remou, voire une profonde
inquiétude dans la presse canadienne, elle qui s'était jusque-là (et avec quel
empressement!) surtout attardée à célébrer les mérites et les vertus de l'ancien
commandant en chef. Mais qu'à cela ne tienne : ce n'est pas là la première
surprise révélée par cette grande guerre; aussi la presse canadienne saura-t-elle
s'adapter assez facilement à la situation nouvelle, ou plutôt adaptera la
situation nouvelle à ses préoccupations et à sa lecture du déroulement des
opérations sur le front oriental. Le général déchu n'en reste pas moins l'une des
figures les plus remarquables de cette guerre (son transfert au Caucase en fera,
estime-t-on, la preuve une autre fois!); son remplacement — geste politique,
non militaire — n'altérera pas le cours de la guerre sur le front oriental puisque
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
le tsar laissera vraisemblablement la conduite des opérations militaires entre
les mains de ses généraux les plus habiles et les plus expérimentés. Rassurée
sur ce point, la presse découvre de nouvelles possibilités : n'est-il pas
raisonnable d'espérer un meilleur effort de guerre maintenant que le tsar s'est
rapproché de ses troupes?; n'est-il pas improbable que l'on ait permis au tsar de
prendre le commandement suprême de ses armées si la retraite devait se
continuer? car alors, le prestige du tsar n'en serait-il pas grandement affecté?
En outre, le tsar possède sur son prédécesseur l'avantage que lui confère sa
filiation historique — par le parallèle, par exemple, que Le Soleil (11-IX-1915,
p. 4) établit avec l'action d'Alexandre 1er au moment de l'invasion
napoléonienne. Voilà bien de belles assurances à l'effet que « the Russians will
now fight as the French fought a hundred years ago, under the inspiration of
liberty » (Toronto Star, 17-IX-1915, p. 6); finalement, ce changement
témoigne de la volonté de poursuivre la lutte et contredit — suggère, en termes
chaleureux, l'impérialiste et guerrier Montreal Star (8-IX-1915, p. 10) — les
rumeurs à l'effet que le tsar ait remplacé le grand-duc pour pouvoir mieux
signer une paix séparée avec l'Allemagne :
[w]hen Germany is spreading abroad the poisonous and wholly
unfounded suggestion that Russia may soon be open to proposals for
a separate peace, the Russian Czar buckles on his sword and starts for
the front. No other act could so thrill the Russian armies or inspire the
Russian people.
Les efforts répétés de la presse canadienne en vue d'atténuer l'ampleur des
désastres subis par les armées russes révèlent clairement la préoccupation
première de cette dernière, à savoir : perpétuer l'illusion d'une armée russe
toujours aussi vigoureusement engagée dans la poursuite — et ce, jusqu'à la
victoire finale — de cette terrible guerre. Un tel exercice est parfois mené de
façon habile, subtile même (comme, par exemple, de devancer, pour en
diminuer l'impact, l'annonce de l'abandon d'une place-forte, ou encore d'écrire
que la situation actuelle n'a rien de si tragique puisque la retraite aurait pu être
plus désastreuse encore!), mais, plus souvent qu'autrement, son caractère
mécanique (dont le plus bel exemple est sans doute la merveilleuse puissance
de récupération de l'armée russe) touche à la malhonnêteté, voire à l'absurdité;
celle-ci s'exprime, par exemple, dans les commentaires de ceux qui
soutiennent que, même sérieusement ébranlées, les armées russes sont — et
surtout resteront — victorieuses sur les champs de bataille. Le repli d'une
armée sur des positions plus solides ne peut être logiquement suivi, à bref
intervalle, d'un autre repli, puis d'un autre repli. Autre paradoxe : comment
concilier l'importante réorganisation militaire, suite à la guerre récente contre
le Japon, et les défaites majeures subies en 1915? De plus, chaque revers russe
n'a toujours qu'un impact militaire limité, jamais déterminant sur le plan
psychologique. Comme le langage aurait été différent si, à l'inverse, il s'eût agi
d'une retraite des armées allemandes! Certes, tout recul, même significatif,
d'une armée n'est pas, en soi, nécessairement mauvais; les Français et les
Anglais n'en ont-ils pas, en août et septembre 1914, donné une preuve
éclatante? Sauf que celui de 1915, en raison de son ampleur, allait mener à la
déconfiture de l'armée russe. Ayant attaché tellement d'importance à l'image
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du « rouleau- compresseur », la presse canadienne pouvait difficilement
reconnaître que cette guerre n'était pas simplement une question de chiffres!
Au fait, qu'en est-il de cette armée russe? quelles caractéristiques manifeste-telle tout au cours de cette Première Guerre mondiale? Au niveau de la
direction, cette armée est placée sous les ordres d'un quartier général qui
n'exerce pas vraiment les fonctions de commandement suprême; cet étatmajor est mal préparé aux tâches de commandement, ossifié, routinier, plus
médiocre que talentueux, à l'occasion compétent mais très rarement brillant,
trop souvent accaparé par les détails de l'administration et parfois même
victime d'incompétence et de corruption; en outre, il existe une méfiance parmi
les officiers supérieurs, de même qu'entre la Stavka et le ministère de la Guerre.
Quant à la stratégie d'ensemble de l'armée russe, elle témoigne d'une confiance
exagérée dans la cavalerie, pourtant dépassée dans cette guerre moderne. Qui
plus est, cette armée russe, mal préparée, surmobilisée (d'où l'engorgement des
arrières, le mécontentement des plus âgés et un entraînement inadéquat), sans
véritable plan de guerre (à preuve, cette perpétuelle hésitation quant au choix
du principal théâtre des opérations — les fronts nord/nord-ouest contre les
Allemands ou le front sud-ouest contre les Austro-Hongrois) et mal appuyée
par des services auxiliaires (espionnage, communications, vols de
reconnaissance, tanks, infirmerie) dont le personnel et le matériel resteront
toujours insuffisants, s'en remet trop souvent à l'emploi inconsidéré du
principal atout de la Russie — sa supériorité numérique. De plus, cette
inclination, toute chevaleresque et moyen-âgeuse, à se porter au secours d'un
allié en péril sans avoir, au préalable, mesuré adéquatement les conséquences
d'un tel dévouement, devait contribuer à saper le moral d'un soldat russe,
certainement très courageux, solide, durable, mais peu flexible, peu
expérimenté, laissé à lui-même, méprisé même par certains de ses supérieurs,
soumis à de dures privations, choqué du caractère primitif des traitements
réservés aux blessés, inquiet de la situation des membres de sa famille à
l'arrière et, surtout, qui ne peut s'expliquer — et encore moins comprendre
(cela explique que l'enthousiasme patriotique des premiers jours se soit
rapidement estompé ) — les raisons de tels massacres.
Ces déficiences aux niveaux du commandement et de la stratégie provoquent,
à la longue, une crise d'autorité au sein de l'armée, crise qu'accentuent
l'insuffisance du nombre d'officiers (en raison des très lourdes pertes subies au
cours des premiers engagements d'importance) et les insolubles problèmes
d'approvisionnement (et, en ce sens, l'élément « géographique », pas plus
d'ailleurs que le système de transports, ne jouaient à l'avantage de la Russie).
Les éditorialistes qui croient que la Russie pourra, rapidement et en temps de
guerre, compenser, soit par elle-même, soit par une aide extérieure, les sérieux
retards de son développement industriel, particulièrement évidents en matière
de chemins de fer et d'armements, se bercent d'illusions. Or, ces lacunes, dont
les effets ne seront jamais éliminés malgré de valeureux efforts, se
répercuteront directement sur la qualité de l'effort de guerre russe.
L'explication d'un comportement aussi tendancieux de la part des éditorialistes
canadiens est bien simple : la Russie étant l'alliée de la Grande-Bretagne, donc
du Canada, il ne faut pas s'attendre à retrouver, dans la presse canadienne, une
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
description fidèle et complète de ces reculs majeurs et de ces revers des armées
russes. Si cette réalité ne peut, en raison de son ampleur, être niée
complètement, elle peut cependant être présentée sous un éclairage autre que
celui servi aux lecteurs allemands de Berlin, par exemple. Une telle approche,
en période de guerre, ne surprend pas du tout; cette guerre n'est-elle pas
mondiale? n'est-elle pas la première à mobiliser, sur une aussi large échelle,
toutes les énergies d'une nation, tant sur la ligne de feu qu'à l'arrière? n'est-elle
pas aussi la première à utiliser, si abondamment, les techniques de la
propagande pour maintenir, en dépit de multiples difficultés, l'enthousiasme
de la population? Or, il est bien connu qu'en temps de guerre, aucun
éditorialiste, et il en va de même (et surtout!) pour ceux qui contrôlent
l'information, ne peut, sans risque aucun, faire connaître à son public-lecteur
les lacunes graves d'un allié engagé dans une lutte aussi décisive; une telle
reconnaissance de la réalité pourrait avoir des effets néfastes sur le moral de la
population canadienne, elle-même engagée dans cette guerre. En d'autres
termes, la victoire sera acquise si la nation reste unie; la nation restera unie si le
gouvernement contrôle l'opinion publique.
***
À la veille de la Première Guerre mondiale, la presse canadienne donne de la
Russie une image assez peu flatteuse. Les quelques éditoriaux pertinents
s'attardent surtout à dépeindre les problèmes actuels de ce pays : la gravité de
la tare, à la fois morale et sociale, que constitue la consommation excessive de
vodka; le maintien de mesures discriminatoires, tant religieuses
qu'économiques, à l'endroit des Juifs : « (d)arkest Russia once more gives
evidence of possessing the mind of the Middle Ages », s'insurge le Journal of
Commerce (19-VI-1914, p. 4); les retards dans le domaine de l'éducation; les
politiques de russification (à l'endroit de la Finlande, par exemple); une
bureaucratie à la fois « despotic, tyrannous and brutal » (Saskatoon Phoenix,
9-VI-1914, p. 6); les grèves déclenchées par des ouvriers de St-Pétersbourg;
les restrictions imposées à la gauche, à la Douma (le parlement russe); le
comportement belliqueux de l'autocratie russe sur la scène internationale, en
un mot, de conclure le Ottawa Citizen (24-III-1914, p. 14), « Russia (is) the
most reactionary power in the world ». Au tout début de la guerre, bien que la
Russie soit l'alliée de la Grande-Bretagne, et donc du Canada, une certaine
presse canadienne (particulièrement celle d'inspiration ouvrière/socialiste et
libérale) entretient toujours des réserves à l'endroit de la Russie : pour un, le
Globe (25-VIII-1914, p. 4) qualifie ce pays de « great reactionary of Europe ».
Dans la même veine, en raison de l'image que le public canadien se fait de la
Russie :
Russia, dark, ignorant, and superstitious, with the mass of its people
no better than serfs, with its autocratic contempt for human life or
liberty, ever menacing the civilized world with war, at one time
moving in the Balkans, at another near the Indian frontier, or in
Persia, or China, or destroying the brave nation of Finland, and
threatening Norway and Sweden;
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le Ottawa Citizen (13-VIII-1914, p. 12) conclut que « the Russian rulers with
an insatiable lust for power and a hatred of democracy, have not seemed to all
British people to be the best ally of Britain and France ». Tout aussi critique, le
Voice (5-II-1915, p. 1), journal ouvrier de Winnipeg, commentant les buts de
guerre de la Russie tsariste, soutient que derrière ce rôle de défenseur de la
cause slave se cachent des objectifs bien précis :
when the Czar talks about destroying at one blow the enemies of the
related Slavs he is really exhorting the Slav peoples to aid Russia in a
mighty effort to establish the geographical conditions necessary to
her commercial greatness.
Dans ces conditions, de renchérir le Globe (17-VIII-1914, p. 4), les Alliés se
doivent de surveiller attentivement la Russie, car leur victoire ne sera complète
et la paix future du monde, assurée, que si « the despot power of the Czar and
his bureaucrats does (...) follow the dethroned despotism of Kaiser Wilhelm
and his ally, in the Dual Empire ».
Cette évaluation plutôt sévère de la Russie, essentiellement fondée sur une
certaine lecture de l'histoire de ce pays et sur la peur des conséquences
qu'aurait une victoire russe, cède assez rapidement le pas, pour la grande
majorité des éditorialistes canadiens, à une approche beaucoup plus positive,
celle d'une Russie qui renaît! La violence et, plus encore, la durée de la guerre
rendent de plus en plus impérieuse la nécessité de redécouvrir la Russie. La
tâche sera d'autant plus facile que l'empire des tsars combat maintenant pour la
cause de la liberté, au même titre que la Grande-Bretagne et la France!
Quelques commentaires de la presse canadienne à propos des questions
polonaises et de la prohibition illustreront une telle mutation.
La presse canadienne se réjouit de la promesse d'unification territoriale et
d'autonomie faite aux Polonais, en août 1914, par le grand-duc Nicholas N.
Plein d'enthousiasme, le Montreal Star (17-VIII-1914, p. 10) qualifie le geste
de « nothing short of a stroke of genius just as war opens in a territory almost
wholly Polish ». Cet enthousiasme devient, cependant, excessif sous la plume
d'un éditorialiste du Toronto Star (8-IX-1914, p. 6) qui, tout en admettant que
la Russie a, dans le passé, commis des erreurs, n'en dégage pas moins ce qu'il
croit être la portée véritable du geste du grand-duc, lorsqu'il écrit : « Russia is
evidently making a crusade as a champion of the rights of nationalities and
races »2.
La presse canadienne, surtout celle d'inspiration religieuse et libérale,
approuve chaleureusement l'initiative de Nicholas II qui, dès la mobilisation
des troupes, instaure en son pays un régime de prohibition. Le geste du tsar est
d'autant plus méritoire qu'il entraînera d'énormes pertes de revenus pour le
trésor public, compensées, il est vrai, par une amélioration de la productivité,
un climat plus serein à la maison, un accroissement des épargnes dans les
institutions bancaires et un soldat russe plus efficace parce que plus sobre. En
outre, l'initiative du tsar assurera l'avenir de son empire (la presse se refusant à
envisager la possibilité d'un retour de ce fléau, une fois la guerre terminée) :
« Russia sober must become Russia great and powerful » (Ottawa Citizen, 30VII-1915, p. 12; Regina Leader, 3-VIII-1915, p. 4). À la limite, la décision de
Nicholas II relativise l'impact de la guerre : non seulement les pertes en
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
hommes seront-elles ainsi moins élevées, mais la Russie s'assurera d'une place
de choix au panthéon de l'histoire « not because of what the Russian armies
may accomplish in the war against the Kaiser, but because of the victory
achieved over King Alcohol » (Regina Leader, 30-XII-1914, p. 4).
Avec cette ardeur et cette conviction propres aux néophytes, la presse
canadienne cherche donc à corriger certains stéréotypes :
(t)o most people Russia is a barbarous country, peopled by illiterates
just one stage removed from serfdom. The real facts are that there is
no country in the world which has made such rapid strides in the past
few decades as Russia (Journal of Commerce, 16-XII-1914, p. 4).
Ce travail d'éducation populaire est d'autant plus nécessaire, remarque le
Catholic Record (11-XI-1916, p. 4), que « there is no country in Europe so
little known to the average Canadian as the great Muscovite Empire » (sic!).
Dans le portrait qu'elle trace maintenant de la Russie, la presse canadienne ne
s'attarde plus à rappeler les souvenirs du passé : l'autocratisme d'un Nicholas I,
le fléau des pogroms, les désolations de l'exil sibérien, la cruauté toute récente
du Dimanche Sanglant (1905), les recours trop fréquents à la violence
(Cosaques, knout, police secrète, etc.), mais plutôt à illustrer les
transformations majeures que la guerre opère en cet immense pays. Ainsi,
cette nouvelle Russie est-elle celle qui, dans le passé, a protégé l'Europe du
danger des hordes asiatiques et qui, dans le présent, en fait autant contre le
militarisme prussien; celle qui a donné au monde littéraire, artistique (ballet,
musique, peinture) et scientifique des découvertes et des chefs-d'oeuvre qui se
comparent très avantageusement aux plus belles réalisations de l'Occident, et
l'on n'hésite pas, comparant les cultures russe et allemande, à donner l'avantage
à la première puisque, souligne le Mail and Empire (10-IV-1915, p. 16),
« (f)aults that distinguish the Russian character are the faults of ignorance, not
the faults of a cruel and ruthless intelligence »; celle qui possède « the thing
most necessary of all for the working out of her future development, an ample
supply of able, honest, and patriotic men, devoted to her service » (University
Magazine, December 1914, p. 591) — le rôle capital joué par les
parlementaires russes dans les multiples changements de ministres durant la
guerre n'est-il pas la meilleure preuve à l'effet que le ferment démocratique est
à l'oeuvre en ce pays? —; celle qui révèle au monde la vigueur et le dynamisme
de son mouvement coopératif; enfin, celle dont le système scolaire accuse, il
est vrai, certains retards, mais qui est en voie de s'améliorer. Au sommet de
cette pyramide politique et sociale trône l'empereur Nicholas II; en termes
toujours chaleureux, parfois même slavophiles, la presse canadienne présente
un homme tout à fait conscient de la gravité de la situation actuelle et rappelle
ses initiatives en faveur de la paix, qui reste son idéal, lorsqu'il a lancé l'idée qui
devait aboutir, à la fin du siècle précédent, à la première conférence de La
Haye.
Ce tableau favorable de la Russie et de ses habitants (idéalistes, religieux et
d'esprit foncièrement démocratique) illustre donc le changement qui s'opère
dans la mentalité de plus d'un éditorialiste canadien : de cette Russie jusque-là
obscurantiste, superstitieuse, arriérée et qui, s'étant tenue à l'écart des grands
courants de la civilisation européenne, s'était refusée à emboîter le pas dans la
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voie qui mène au progrès, il ne reste à peu près plus rien; au contraire, la presse
canadienne présente une Russie régénérée par la guerre, une Russie qui, mieux
encore qu'en 1861, se dépouille des dernières reliques de l'époque féodale, une
Russie moins barbare (même le Cosaque apparaît sous un nouvel éclairage!),
moins autocratique et, suprême accolade, une Russie qui est véritablement
devenue une nation européenne!; La Presse (28-X-1915, p. 4) ira même
jusqu'à parler de « transfiguration russe »! Vue sous cet angle, la guerre
présente ne constitue en rien, pour la Russie, une calamité puisqu'en ébranlant
les fondations de l'ancien régime elle « will do more for the cause of
democracy in that country than a century of peaceful evolution » (Manitoba
Free Press, 21-IX-1915, p. 9). En un mot, une ère nouvelle se lève pour ce
valeureux pays!
Cette transition est sans doute plus frappante encore chez ceux qui, au départ,
exprimaient des réserves à l'endroit de la Russie tsariste : ainsi, le Ottawa
Citizen (4-VIII-1915, p. 12), pourtant très sévère au début de la guerre,
reconnaît — se référant à la promesse faite à la Pologne et à la retraite russe,
menée de belle façon — que « (w)hatever reputation she may have earned by
her past history, she has acted during the great war in a way to gain the respect
of the world ».
La mutation s'étend au domaine, beaucoup plus délicat, et donc plus
révélateur, de la politique étrangère de la Russie. L'étude des causes de la
Première Guerre mondiale a donné naissance à un nombre considérable
d'ouvrages historiques. Les points de vue et les interprétations de journalistes,
de militaires, de diplomates, de politiciens, d'économistes et, naturellement,
d'historiens sont tellement variés et, souvent, contradictoires qu'il est possible
de tenir, à des degrés divers, chacune des grandes puissances de l'époque
responsable du déclenchement de cette grande guerre. Ainsi, s'il existe une
école de pensée pour exonérer la Russie de tout blâme (reportant ce dernier sur
les épaules des Puissances Centrales), il en existe une autre qui attribue à la
Russie une part, souvent non négligeable, de la responsabilité. Les tenants de
cette école soulignent, à l'appui de leur thèse, les ambitions expansionnistes
séculaires de la Russie dans la région des Détroits et des Balkans (rendues plus
manifestes, voire plus belliqueuses en raison du déplacement des
préoccupations russes vers cette région, suite au temps d'arrêt qu'imposent à la
Russie les défaites subies, en 1904-1905, aux mains du Japon), la faiblesse
politique de l'empire ottoman, les encouragements, voire l'appui, en certains
milieux, à l'égard des aspirations nationales de la Serbie, ce petit pays de
langue slave et de religion orthodoxe à la recherche d'un puissant appui, et, en
dernier lieu, le fait que la Russie ait été la première grande puissance à
ordonner une mobilisation générale de ses armées (30 juillet 1914), au moment
où l'Allemagne s'efforçait de convaincre l'Autriche-Hongrie d'accepter une
proposition de médiation au problème soulevé par l'assassinat, à Sarajevo, de
l'archiduc-héritier François- Ferdinand.
Pour l'ensemble de la presse canadienne, toutefois, la question de la
responsabilité du déclenchement de la Première Guerre mondiale ne pose
aucun problème historiographique : le seul et unique coupable, c'est
l'Allemagne; conséquemment, la presse s'efforce d'atténuer, voire d'éliminer
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
toute trace de blâme à l'égard des Alliés, la Russie incluse. En fait, dès avant
l'entrée officielle de cette dernière dans le conflit, la presse canadienne prépare
déjà son public-lecteur : ainsi, elle lui rappelle que l'imbroglio actuel dans les
Balkans constitue, pour la Russie, une question de prestige, d'influence, voire
d'intérêts historiques :
(f)or a century and a half Russia has fought and intrigued to free the
Balkan Slavs from Turkish dominion. It is inconceivable that she
shall stand idly by and see the Pan-Germans reap the fruit of her
labors and overwhelm the Slavs of the South (Globe, 30-VI-1914,
p. 6)
et que notre alliée slave ne peut, au risque de subir une autre humiliation
diplomatique, rester immobile et laisser toute l'initiative à l'Autriche-Hongrie
et à sa puissante alliée, l'Allemagne; au contraire, il faut s'attendre à voir la
Russie, dont le rôle de protectrice de ses frères slaves est brusquement remis en
question, intervenir dans ce conflit de façon décisive. Une fois la guerre
déclarée entre l'Allemagne et la Russie, l'approche de la presse canadienne
reste sensiblement la même : celle-ci, tout en reprenant l'argumentation de la
période d'avant-guerre, s'applique à démontrer que la Russie n'a pu provoquer
la guerre : « whatever sins the Czar may have to answer for at the last day, it is
certain that responsibility for the outbreak of the war does not rest upon him »
(Mail and Empire, 14-VIII-1914, p. 6) puisqu'elle n'était pas prête : « Russia is
still in a stage of political and economic transformation and was in no good
position to become a ready or willing aggressor at present » (Queen's
Quarterly, October 1914, p. 187); que durant les négociations précédant le
début des hostilités, elle a tout fait pour tenter d'éviter la guerre, manifestant
ainsi son désir de paix : « Russian diplomacy has a bad name for lying, but its
offers were fair, and no attempt was made to take advantage of them » (Queen's
Quarterly, October 1914, p. 229); et, en dernier ressort, qu'elle n'a mobilisé ses
armées que pour se protéger contre une attaque de l'une et/ou de l'autre des
deux Puissances Centrales.
Dès le début des hostilités, le Toronto Star (7-X-1914, p. 6) pose la question du
comportement futur de la Russie : celle-ci se voit offrir la chance de jouer un
rôle de leader dans le monde de demain; saura-t-elle profiter de cette chance
que lui offre la guerre de remplacer l'Allemagne qui s'est, en quelque sorte,
disqualifiée parce qu'obsédée par le culte de la force brute? La Russie possède
déjà un avantage : « (i)t has the body », mais cela ne suffit pas : « it must show
that it has the intellect and the soul that will qualify for leadership ». La guerre
allait précisément fournir aux éditorialistes canadiens des raisons de croire que
la Russie ne serait plus jamais la même : pour un, le Manitoba Free Press (23XI-1914, p. 9) estime que les dizaines de milliers de Russes, morts pour la
cause de la liberté, prouvent « that the race is fit for freedom »; ce thème
revient, de façon plus grandiose encore, sous la plume d'un éditorialiste du
Calgary Herald (23-XII-1914, p. 6) qui voit dans ce baptême de sang et de feu
l'assurance d'une transformation qui, ultimement, fera de la Russie « a much
improved country ». De plus, si la presse canadienne reconnaît que la Russie a,
dans le passé, commis des erreurs qui lui ont coûté certaines amitiés, elle
s'empresse d'ajouter, tout en s'en réjouissant, que l'alliance de la Russie avec la
Grande-Bretagne et la France, bien qu'elle fasse de ces nations de « strange
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bedfellows » (British Columbia Federationist, 30-X-1914, p. 2; London
Advertiser, 4-VIII-1914, p. 6; Mail and Empire, 14-VIII-1914, p. 6), ne pourra
avoir, sur tout l'empire des tsars, que des effets bénéfiques, en le dégageant
d'un passé et d'alliances militaro- autocratiques peu recommandables. Cette
heureuse évolution permet, d'ailleurs, à la presse canadienne de rejeter, parce
que non justifiées, les craintes exprimées par certains, en août 1914, à l'effet
que la Russie, vainqueur de l'Allemagne, deviendrait, plus que cette dernière
encore, un dangereux rival pour l'empire britannique. Au contraire, de
conclure le Charlottetown Guardian (5-X-1914, p. 4), « when the terms of
peace are settled among the Allies none of them will display a spirit of greater
magnanimity than Nicholas, Czar of all the Russias ».
Consciente de l'héritage de peur qu'elle a elle-même entretenu auprès de son
public-lecteur, la presse canadienne cherche donc à exorciser cette équation :
Russie = péril slave; ce dernier n'existe plus (les Slaves, peuple foncièrement
pacifique, ne possèdent-ils pas déjà suffisamment de territoires où s'étendre?);
au contraire, le véritable péril qui menace la civilisation, c'est l'Allemagne
prussienne puisque l'esprit de la nouvelle Russie :
may be regarded as essentially opposed to all that the German spirit
has shown itself to be — opposed, that is, to desire for power,
opposed to desire to conquer by military force in the fields of politics
or commerce, and trusting rather in the irresistible force of the mind
(University Magazine, April 1915, p. 167).
Somme toute, conclut le Regina Leader (19-II-1915, p. 4) :
we cannot escape the conviction that from this war there will emerge
a New Russia, (...) a Russia that will rapidly take its position in the
ront ranks of the great civilized and progressive nations of the world
».
Le fait qu'un nombre important d'éditorialistes canadiens, même dans des
commentaires parfois empreints d'une certaine timidité (et ceux — l'exception
— qui se refusent carrément à emboîter le pas révèlent la persistance de vieilles
craintes, nourries de l'histoire passée et plus récente de la Russie)3, acceptent
de réviser leurs positions sur la très importante question de Constantinople et
des Détroits (concédés à la Russie, en 1915, par la France et la GrandeBretagne) montre bien jusqu'à quel point l'effort de guerre russe et l'ensemble
des transformations qu'il suscite rendent maintenant tout à fait périmées
certaines idées. Certes, le fait que l'actuel propriétaire, la Turquie, soit notre
ennemi commun facilite une telle conversion, mais il y a plus que cela. Des
raisons d'ordre géographique et économique justifient la présence russe en ces
endroits : en effet, privée d'un port de mer qui soit libre de glaces à l'année
longue, la Russie — dont le blé d'exportation est surtout produit en des régions
qui touchent à la mer Noire, dont les matières premières se répandent à travers
le monde et qui a également besoin de marchés adéquats pour stabiliser ses
finances — peut exiger le contrôle et/ou la possession de l'ancienne capitale de
l'empire byzantin, de même que ses régions avoisinantes; ensuite, s'ajoutent
des motifs d'ordre militaire et politique : soit de contrer toute influence
teutonne future dans les Balkans, soit encore (mais ici la préoccupation est
nettement plus impérialiste qu'altruiste) de noter que, dans de telles conditions,
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
«Russia will have no need to reach southward toward India for an outlet »
(Mail and Empire, 26-II-1915, p. 6). Étonnante acrobatie de la presse
canadienne qui lui permet ainsi d'éliminer un siècle de rivalités anglo-russes en
Orient!
Le contraste de cette nouvelle Russie, plus unie qu'en 1904-5 derrière le tsar et
dans la poursuite de la guerre (la présence du tsar à l'ouverture du parlement
russe, en février 1916, en est une autre preuve éclatante!), est d'autant plus
frappant que la situation de ce pays était, avant le déclenchement des hostilités,
si critique qu'il ne fallait pas écarter la possibilité d'une révolution.
Heureusement, la guerre, dont les enjeux ont été bien compris « the Russian
people fully realize that their political emancipation is bound up with the
defeat of Germany » (Catholic Record, 9-XII-1916, p. 4), a permis à la nation
russe de refaire l'indispensable unité : « Russians of all classes (...) feel today,
even more than they felt when Napoleon launched his armies against them, that
they are fighting a holy, as well as a national war », soutient le Ottawa Journal
(4-VIII-1915, p. 6). En outre, l'opposition séculaire entre Slaves et Teutons,
qui confère à la guerre, sur le front oriental, un caractère un peu spécial,
contribuera également à unir les différentes composantes de la nation russe.
Autre signe encourageant : cette unité ne se limite pas au tsar et au peuple
russe, elle englobe également d'autres groupes et nationalités (Juifs,
Finlandais, Polonais), ce qui permettra, d'ailleurs, à la Russie « to bring greater
strength into the present struggle than any in which she has been hitherto
engaged » (Edmonton Journal, 31-VIII-1914, p. 4). Allusion sans doute très
subtile à la politique de russification d'Alexandre III et de Nicholas II! Mais
n'est-il pas exagéré de prétendre que la guerre ait pu faire oublier un passé aussi
récent? L'année 1917 allait fournir une réponse des plus affirmatives...
En raison de cette fusion des énergies et de leur totale implication dans cette
grande guerre (fini, en effet, « the spectacle of a cruel autocracy driving its
sullen subjects into the battlefield »! (Ottawa Citizen, 17-VIII-1915, p. 12), la
presse canadienne s'imagine mal comment les initiatives allemandes,
parvenues ici sous forme de rumeurs, en vue de détacher la Russie de ses alliés
occidentaux pourraient aboutir. Au contraire, la certitude de la presse à l'effet
que la Russie ne succombera pas à l'idée de signer une paix séparée — n'a-telle pas déjà prouvé (en août-septembre 1914, par exemple, alors qu'elle s'est
littéralement sacrifiée afin d'enrayer l'avance allemande sur le front
occidental!) qu'elle méritait la confiance de ses partenaires d'armes? —
s'enracine dans un arsenal d'arguments propres à convaincre les plus
sceptiques (encore que derrière certains de ceux-là, qui ressemblent à
l'occasion davantage à des conseils servis aux Russes en vue de les convaincre,
il soit possible de déceler une certaine inquiétude à propos de la fidélité de la
Russie à l'Entente). Cette crainte d'un retrait définitif des armées russes était,
du reste, tout à fait fondée (objectivement, s'entend), en raison de l'ampleur des
défaites subies sur les champs de bataille, de la présence d'influences
allemandes à l'intérieur du pays, des efforts diplomatiques de l'Allemagne et
des relations traditionnellement étroites entre les empires allemand et russe.
Cette volonté russe de se battre jusqu'à la victoire finale, la presse la retrouve
dans les déclarations rassurantes du tsar Nicholas II et de Sazonov, le ministre
russe des affaires étrangères; l'immensité des efforts et des sacrifices consentis
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à ce jour et le maintien du prestige et de l'influence de la Russie dans les
Balkans constituent également d'indéniables gages. Rassurée, mais non
totalement convaincue, la presse canadienne s'emploie, en fait, à exorciser le
spectre d'un retrait définitif des Russes sur le front oriental. Moralisateur et
reprenant la phrase célèbre du chancelier allemand Bethmann-Hollweg, le
Mail and Empire (21-X-1914, p. 6), pour un, estime que le gouvernement russe
« is in honor bound to stay in the war to the end in order that its pledged word
may not also become a `mere scrap of paper' »; en outre, soutient le Montreal
Star (28-VI-1915, p. 10), l'importance des enjeux ne laisse aux Russes aucune
autre alternative :
Russia is fighting for the right of the Slavs to enjoy their liberty under
the shadow of Austro-German arrogance and ambition; and we may
be very sure that she will not dream of peace until she has broken and
debased that arrogance and firmly fortified the liberties of the whole
Slav family.
Le prix d'un abandon de la cause alliée serait des plus prohibitifs : désertant ses
alliés et les laissant se faire battre un à un par l'Allemagne, la Russie,
inévitablement, se retrouverait seule face à un empire allemand beaucoup plus
puissant; d'autre part, la fidélité aux alliés ne constitue-t-elle pas la méthode la
plus sûre et la plus rapide, pour la Russie, d'obtenir à la fois Constantinople et
un accès à la mer Méditerranée, puisque, rappelle le Saint John Globe (16VIII-1915, p. 4), « the best terms Germany could offer would be less than
Russia is certain of securing from the triumph of her Allies ». Somme toute, de
conclure le London Advertiser (30-XII-1914, p. 4), la Russie « cannot afford to
consider any situation short of victory » : les relents de militarisme prussien à
l'intérieur de la haute bureaucratie russe ne pourront s'estomper définitivement
et la paix ne sera assurée en permanence que si l'Allemagne est vaincue!
Certes, cet immense tableau contient encore certaines teintes sombres; ainsi,
occasionnellement, la presse canadienne manifeste-t-elle certaines
inquiétudes : « the smouldering fires of revolution (...) are never quite
extinguished in Russia », écrit le Maritime Baptist (29-XI-1916, p. 1). À cela
s'ajoute la présence d'influences et de sympathies allemandes dans le domaine
économique, dans la conduite des affaires de l'État, de même qu'à la cour (la
femme du tsar n'est-elle pas d'origine allemande?); une telle influence est
néfaste (comme l'est également celle de cet étrange personnage, Raspoutine)
puisqu'elle ne peut avoir que des conséquences désastreuses sur la conduite de
la guerre. Il y a, ensuite, cette bureaucratie russe, intrigante et déloyale, trop
souvent lourdaude et maladroite, inefficace et corrompue et qui a « grossly
mismanaged the war as far as supplies are concerned and which is so blind and
so wedded to the privileges it has always exercised that it refuses to bow to the
popular will », soutient le Vancouver Province (16-X-1915, p. 6), au soir de la
grande retraite des armées russes sur leur front occidental. Une telle nervosité
s'exprime avec encore plus d'acuité dans les tout derniers mois du régime
tsariste. Tout en reconnaissant éprouver certaines difficultés à déchiffrer
l'écheveau de la vie politique russe, la presse canadienne n'en laisse pas moins
percer un certain malaise, suite, par exemple, aux rapports faisant état d'une
insuffisance de farine dans les villes et de l'arrestation de représentants des
ouvriers au comité des industries de guerre de St-Pétersbourg, ou encore des
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canadienne, 1914-1916
relations tendues entre le gouvernement et la Douma. Mais la gravité de la
situation politique, économique et sociale ne saurait, même à la veille de
l'abdication du tsar, vraiment altérer l'optimisme des éditorialistes canadiens :
ainsi, l'éveil du Russe, son goût de la liberté et la conscience d'une guerre qui
est la sienne garantissent la mise à l'écart de ce vieux système bureaucratique;
en outre, les difficultés de transport et d'approvisionnement en denrées et en
combustible, sans doute exagérées, seront surmontées; pour sa part, le
Montreal Star (4-XII-1916, p. 10) ne s'inquiète guère du caractère tumultueux
de la vie politique russe :
(w)e know something of political divisions and accusations and even
insinuations of pro-Germanism among the governing classes of our
own Empire. Such accusations are especially likely to be heard in the
darker days of some temporary discouragement [au sujet de la défaite
de la Roumanie].... We should make allowances for the universal
tendency to shoot at leaders who fail.
D'autant plus, de soutenir le Mail and Empire (12-I-1917, p. 6), que « whatever
Ministries rise and fall on internal questions, the full power of Slavdom will be
thrown against the hated Teuton »; enfin, signe des plus encourageants, chaque
changement de gouvernement représente une victoire pour la démocratie en
Russie : s'il est vrai que l'entrée de la Russie dans son sillon ne se fera sans
qu'elle n'éprouve certaines difficultés (mais cela ne va-t-il pas de soi puisque
« (y)ou can not pour new wine into old bottles and you can not build entirely
new constitutions on old foundations » (Vancouver Province, 9-XII-1916, p.
6), l'issue finale ne peut être mise en doute car, de conclure le London
Advertiser (5-I-1917, p. 6), la Russie ressemble à « some captive who is
gradually loosening the chains which bind him. One by one the cords of
bureaucracy are being broken from about the Russian nation, giving freedom
and democracy »4.
Il y a quelque chose de paradoxal dans les commentaires de la presse
canadienne à l'égard de la Russie. Ceux-ci s'efforcent surtout de présenter un
beau tableau, une image idyllique presque de ce pays, à la fois uni, trempé et
recréé par la guerre. Cet exercice, tout réussi qu'il soit — et plus les couleurs du
tableau deviennent brillantes, plus le paradoxe devient évident —, reflète,
implicitement bien sûr, les perceptions de la Russie qui prévalaient avant le
début des hostilités. En d'autres termes, plus cette offensive de la presse
canadienne se fait insistante, plus elle témoigne de sa préoccupation, devenue
maintenant une nécessité, d'effacer cette perception d'une Russie dont la
noirceur et le caractère arriéré se perdaient presque dans la nuit des temps. Le
moyen, qui sert d'excuse (trop facile dans la mesure où l'ensemble des
commentaires sur la Russie d'avant-guerre s'inspirait des mêmes sources
d'information), consiste à feindre l'ignorance de l'histoire de ce lointain pays
et, conséquemment, à proposer la nécessité de mieux saisir et comprendre la
réalité actuelle.
Le caractère utilitariste d'une telle démarche est évidemment manifeste :
l'approche de la presse canadienne doit s'adapter à la situation présente, celle
d'une Russie qui est maintenant notre alliée. Les réticences de certains
éditorialistes à l'endroit de la Russie, une fois la guerre déclarée, illustrent le
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caractère progressif de cette mutation et laissent clairement entrevoir
l'orientation, ou plutôt le ton, qu'aurait adopté la presse canadienne si la Russie
s'était retrouvée aux côtés des Puissances Centrales. L'ampleur de cette
menace, essentiellement allemande, de même que les craintes qu'elle suscite
sont telles, le vocabulaire réservé aux Teutons est si machiavélique qu'il
devient relativement facile, pour la presse canadienne, de célébrer, en
comparaison, les mérites et les vertus de la nouvelle Russie. Dans la même
veine, d'ailleurs, s'explique la réconciliation de cette presse à l'idée que
l'Allemagne, battue sur les champs de bataille (cette certitude n'a jamais été
mise en doute, même aux jours les plus sombres), entrera dans une période de
déclin et laissera, sur la scène européenne, un rôle de leader à cette nouvelle
Russie. Si celle-ci ne peut encore prétendre au statut de membre à part entière
du club des nations européennes dites « civilisées », il ne s'agit là que d'une
question de temps. En effet, par ce parallèle à la fois logique et simpliste d'une
Russie qui se libère de l'influence autocratique et prussienne, tant sur les
champs de bataille que sur ceux, moins violents mais non moins importants, de
l'arène politique, la presse canadienne (et ici, son comportement ne saurait être
à la fois plus hautain et plus moralisateur) laisse clairement entendre que la
Russie est sur la bonne voie, car cette lutte commune, menée au nom de la
liberté en Europe, aura, par un phénomène d'osmose, des effets bénéfiques sur
la structure et le mode de fonctionnement du gouvernement russe. Nul besoin,
donc, pour les Canadiens d'origine britannique ou française, de s'excuser
d'avoir la Russie comme alliée!
La persistance de la presse canadienne à établir une équation entre les
aspirations de la Douma (trop rapidement identifiée à un parlement de type
britannique en devenir) et celles du peuple russe, de même que ses efforts, de
plus en plus accentués dans les derniers mois du régime tsariste, à établir une
nette distinction entre, d'une part, le peuple russe, toujours aussi fidèle et résolu
à poursuivre le bon combat, et, d'autre part, l'autocratisme gouvernemental et
bureaucratique (qui touche même à l'inconscience la plus totale, voire à la
trahison) relèvent davantage d'une simplicité à la fois naïve (dans le mesure où
s'exprime très ouvertement le schéma classique du bon versus le méchant) et
intéressée (dans la mesure où l'activité gouvernementale n'est louable que si
elle facilite la poursuite de la guerre) que d'un véritable effort pour saisir toutes
les composantes de la réalité russe. Cette dernière remarque s'applique, avec
encore plus d'à-propos, aux efforts, souvent maladroits, de cette même presse
en vue d'atténuer l'ampleur de la crise politique qui sévit en Russie; en effet, la
presse canadienne simplifie outrageusement lorsqu'elle attribue les difficultés
politiques aux seuls bureaucrates réactionnaires — à la fois écartés des centres
de décision, mais toujours influents! — et qu'elle se console à la pensée que
celles-ci ne sont, en dernier ressort, pas très graves puisque, d'une part,
contrant l'influence de ces sympathisants pro-allemands, la Douma, c'est-àdire la démocratie, fait des progrès sensibles, et, d'autre part, le support du
peuple russe pour la guerre reste inébranlable.
Cette idée d'une nation russe, en union étroite avec le tsar et la Douma, et
travaillant à la victoire d'une cause commune si chère à tous, constitue, en fait,
un mythe. S'il est vrai que le déclenchement des hostilités, non seulement
mettra un terme à une agitation ouvrière qui, en d'autres circonstances, aurait
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
très probablement revêtu un caractère tragique et, de façon plus positive,
cimentera les forces vives de la nation russe derrière le tsar, cette union sacrée
en sera une de courte durée. L'ampleur des désastres militaires, en révélant
l'incurie gouvernementale, aura tôt fait de scinder l'homogénéité de la nation
russe et, du même coup, d'en accélérer le fractionnement politique. La presse
canadienne se berce donc d'illusions lorsqu'elle prétend que le Russe
comprend et accepte, dans son coeur, cette guerre et désire, avec toute l'énergie
dont il dispose, la mener jusqu'à la victoire finale. Un tel maquillage de la
réalité a certainement berné plus d'un lecteur, même si, en temps de guerre, un
phénomène de polarisation, voire une indéniable partialité envers une
puissance alliée restent inévitables5.
Cette rupture se manifeste de façon répétée, à des niveaux et en des
circonstances divers : il y a, d'abord, cette grande méfiance que le
gouvernement entretient à l'endroit des multiples comités et organisations
(comités des industries de guerre, zemstva, zemgor, Croix-Rouge) qui, animés
de sentiments patriotiques sincères, cherchent à parer aux carences évidentes
de l'administration tsariste; il y a, également, l'opposition entre les militaires,
qui veulent mener cette guerre à leur façon, et les civils, profondément irrités
par certaines décisions prises par la Stavka, lesquelles, selon eux, mettent en
péril le pays (tel est le cas, par exemple, de la politique de la terre brûlée). En
outre, des désaccords sérieux existent, d'une part, entre le tsar et la Douma à
propos de l'étendue des prérogatives et des droits de cette dernière (les
prorogations de la Douma, décrétées par Nicholas II, témoignent à la fois de la
méfiance du tsar, de l'impuissance de cette institution parlementaire et de
l'ampleur de la crise de confiance qui s'installe progressivement dans le pays)
et, d'autre part, entre la Douma, choquée par le renvoi, injustifié à son avis, de
certains ministres bénéficiant de son appui, et la plupart des ministres, jugés
trop réactionnaires et réfractaires à l'idée d'une collaboration étroite entre le
parlement et le pouvoir exécutif. Dans les derniers mois du régime tsariste,
cette rupture devient de plus en plus totale et irrémédiable. Finalement, ce flot
d'appréciations favorables, voire de louanges, déversé si généreusement sur
les membres de la Douma touche presque à l'imposture. En effet, l'une des
caractéristiques majeures de la vie politique russe de cette période aura été le
regroupement, suscité en grande partie par la retraite des armées russes à l'été
de 1915, de politiciens de tendances modérées au sein d'un même bloc; mais,
en raison de l'hétérogénéité de ses composantes (d'où la nécessité de
temporiser les ardeurs belliqueuses des uns et d'aiguillonner le conservatisme
des autres), de la peur générale qu'une opposition trop prononcée n'entraîne, à
sa suite, désordre et anarchie, de leurs divisions (le plus bel exemple en étant la
préférence des uns pour un ministère jouissant de la confiance populaire,
opposée à celle des autres, favorables à l'idée d'un cabinet responsable devant
la Douma) et de leur timidité (malgré l'autorité morale que leur conférait leur
situation privilégiée), le bloc progressiste, malgré de louables efforts, ne
parviendra, finalement, qu'à révéler une impuissance quasi totale à s'attaquer
résolument à certains problèmes majeurs (les questions juive et ouvrière;
l'inflation; l'administration locale) et à influencer les actions d'un
gouvernement, nommé et contrôlé par le tsar, lequel restera sourd aux appels
lancés en sa direction par ceux qui, jusqu'à la fin presque, espéreront qu'il
155
IJCS / RIÉC
confie les rênes de l'administration de l'État à des hommes nouveaux, moins
attachés au passé et, donc, plus éveillés et plus conscients de la nécessité de
procéder à des changements en profondeur.
Cet exercice, qui consiste à se refuser à voir la réalité russe sous tous ses angles,
me semble davantage manifeste à propos de la crise économique et sociale,
plus importante encore que la crise politique. Les commentaires de la presse
canadienne sont à peu près inexistants sur les questions suivantes, pourtant
d'une importance vitale à la survie du régime en place : 1) des finances
gouvernementales bouleversées (surtout à cause de la baisse des revenus
qu'entraînent l'adoption de la prohibition et la fermeture des voies habituelles
d'échanges commerciaux, et des coûts astronomiques liés à la poursuite de la
guerre); 2) une inflation, encouragée par les politiques fiscales du
gouvernement et par la rareté des produits, et une spéculation, mal contrôlée
par le gouvernement, qui frappent surtout les habitants des villes; 3) une
production agricole en déclin et un mécontentement des paysans qui, d'une
part, ne peuvent obtenir de la ville les produits manufacturés dont ils ont besoin
et, d'autre part, particulièrement dans les derniers mois du régime tsariste,
doivent se soumettre à une politique de réquisitions et de fixations des prix
(leur réaction, renforcée par la perte de valeur du rouble, sera alors de garder
pour eux-mêmes leurs denrées agricoles, contribuant ainsi à rompre l'équilibre
entre la ville et la campagne); 4) des transports désorganisés par les exigences
du front en matière d'hommes, de chevaux et de denrées de toutes sortes, par
les progrès de l'ennemi (qui se font précisément dans les régions où le réseau
ferroviaire, insuffisant en temps normal, est le plus développé), par la
confusion entraînée par la double administration, civile et militaire, par l'usure
et le non-remplacement de pièces défectueuses et, finalement, par la
diminution sensible de la production de charbon; 5) une production
industrielle assez largement monopolisée par les appétits voraces de la guerre
et perturbée en raison de la mobilisation d'une partie importante de la maind'oeuvre mâle qualifiée (elle-même remplacée, en partie, par l'emploi de
femmes et d'enfants dont la productivité n'est, forcément, pas la même), du
déplacement de certaines industries vers des endroits qui ne sont pas exposés à
l'avance ennemie et de problèmes d'approvisionnement; et 6) un prolétariat
industriel, renouvelé par les exigences de la guerre, rendu remuant par
l'inflation, mobilisé au sein d'organisations ouvrières et travaillé par la
propagande révolutionnaire.
Somme toute, s'il y a du vrai dans ce qui, finalement, ressemble à un exercice
de marketing en faveur de notre alliée slave (inévitable dans la mesure où la
Russie ne pouvait pas, dans cette grande guerre menée au nom de la démocratie
et contre l'autocratisme allemand, ne pas être récupérée par ceux qui
s'efforçaient de façonner l'opinion publique), il manque également à ce tableau
un certain nombre de couleurs. Or c'est précisément ce caractère irréel qui, s'il
a réussi à convaincre le lecteur canadien, a dû, en même temps, provoquer chez
lui un certain émoi lorsque les dépêches rapportèrent, au milieu du mois de
mars 1917, l'étonnante nouvelle de l'abdication du tsar Nicholas II.
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Perceptions de la Russie tsariste dans la presse
canadienne, 1914-1916
Conclusion
En dernière analyse, comment expliquer une telle incompréhension de la
réalité russe, de la part de la presse canadienne? L'éloignement géographique,
le caractère très restreint des contacts entre les deux pays, l'absence de
reporters sur place, la réalité de la censure (légitimée par la justesse de la cause
pour laquelle le pays se bat) qui, tant en Europe qu'au Canada6, filtre
l'information et le fait qu'en temps de guerre la propagande devient
inévitablement, en raison de l'importance des enjeux, un atout important de
l'arsenal militaire et que, conséquemment, la vérité écope, expliquent, en
partie, un comportement aussi biaisé.
Mais n'existe-t-il pas une explication plus fondamentale? Sous l'influence du
darwinisme social, de la seconde révolution industrielle et de l'impérialisme
(le partage de l'Afrique et de l'Asie en zones d'influence), l'Occident baigne
alors dans un climat intellectuel bien précis. Peuples et cultures sont engagés
dans un perpétuel combat d'où émergeront, vainqueurs, les plus forts. En
raison même de sa nature, la Grande Guerre ne peut que renforcer une telle
conception belliqueuse des relations internationales, exacerbée encore par la
vigueur et l'intransigeance du sentiment national! Qualifiée de « juste », menée
contre un ennemi cruel et au nom d'un monde meilleur, la guerre ne constitue
pas alors un recul moral pour la civilisation européenne. Au contraire : elle
symbolise l'humanité en marche vers le progrès! Concrètement, cela veut dire
le parachèvement du triomphe de la démocratie (déjà réalisé en France et en
Angleterre) sur l'autocratie! la destruction du méchant Boche, symbole d'un
despotisme prussien à la fois arrogant et dominateur, et la récupération d'une
Russie trop longtemps asservie, enchaînée à un passé condamné — inéluctable
loi de l'Histoire — à disparaître! Évidemment, le jeu des alliances militaires
facilite, voire conditionne les réactions de la presse canadienne face à notre
allié russe. Mais si cruelle soit-elle, la guerre acquiert ainsi son véritable sens :
semblable à une croisade, elle devient l'épreuve, le fourneau, qui purifie et
renouvelle! Les désenchantements ne surgiront qu'une fois les hostilités
terminées...
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
Des considérations pratiques limitent les renvois au plus strict minimum; le lecteur intéressé
trouvera de plus amples références dans ma thèse de doctorat : « Russia and the Soviets as
Seen in Canada : une étude de l'opinion politique de la presse canadienne, 1914-1921 »,
McGill University, 1981. D. Morton et J.L. Granatstein, Marching to Armageddon:
Canadians and the Great War 1914-1919, Toronto: Lester & Orpen Dennys, 1989, vii-288p.
est un ouvrage récent tout à fait remarquable.
Certains droits et libertés civils accordés aux Juifs reçoivent un même traitement favorable.
Tel est le cas de la presse catholique qui condamne la persécution des Uniates de Galicie par
l'Église orthodoxe russe, en 1915.
Cette découverte de la nouvelle Russie s'accompagne de considérations qui, quoique se
prêtant mal à de grandes envolées littéraires, n'en restent pas moins très importantes; cellesci se retrouvent, naturellement, dans la presse à vocation économique et des grandes villes
commerciales et/ou portuaires. Le Monetary Times (24-IX-1915, p. 9) résume bien l'impact
de la guerre au niveau des échanges commerciaux entre le Canada et la Russie, lorsqu'il note :
157
IJCS / RIÉC
5.
6.
158
(c)omparatively few of our exports have gone to Russia in past years. The
filling of war orders for that country by several important Canadian firms
has awakened a remarkable interest in the Russian market.
Ces contacts accrus auront, à long terme, des effets bénéfiques pour les deux pays; en effet
(et la réaction de ces éditorialistes est ici très largement influencée par le parallèle établi avec
le Canada de l'ère Laurier), la Russie est un pays immense, jeune — donc assez peu
développé quant à sa structure industrielle —, très riche en ressources naturelles, mais qui a
et aura, encore davantage une fois la guerre terminée, besoin de produits de toutes sortes afin
de réaliser ses immenses possibilités, particulièrement dans le domaine de l'énergie, des
transports, des instruments aratoires, des mines et de bêtes de qualité (surtout de chevaux
dont les pertes, en temps de guerre, sont considérables); de plus, le fournisseur principal de la
Russie, l'Allemagne, ne jouira plus, en raison de la guerre, de cet ensemble d'avantages que
lui conféraient, jusque-là, sa position géographique, son développement technologique et
son organisation commerciale et financière — d'où les encouragements de la presse
canadienne à l'endroit des hommes d'affaires d'ici pour qu'ils prennent avantage de cette
« (1)and of (p)romise » (Globe, 18-IX-1914, p. 4).
Enfin, pour que l'expérience rapporte le plus de dividendes possibles, au niveau commercial,
bien sûr, mais aussi culturel, certains journaux, regrettant les carences dans ce domaine,
suggèrent que des cours de langue russe soient offerts (pour certains, de préférence à
l'allemand) dans certaines écoles et universités canadiennes, car, de noter le Maritime
Merchant (23-III-1916, p. 25), « henceforth Russia will play an increasingly important part
in the affairs of the world ».
Le commentaire du (Antigonish) Casket (18-I-1917, p. 1), tout à fait remarquable
d'authenticité et d'à-propos, constitue l'exception :
Russia was never half so bad as British opinion pictured her. She is not now
any better than she was any time these last forty years. If millions of men in
this empire have reversed their opinion of her since 1914, it is merely
because she has been on our side.
En ce domaine, l'étroite collaboration du consul général de la Russie impériale à Montréal,
Serge de Likatscheff (homme extrêmement préoccupé de la moindre allusion peu favorable
à son pays et à son monarque, en terre canadienne) avec Ernest J. Chambers, censeur en chef
de la Presse, et Joseph Pope, sous-secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, est très
révélatrice. Archives publiques du Canada. LI-RA-MA Collection : vol.16, dossier 160
507, où, dans une lettre adressée à Likatscheff, Chambers définit très clairement son
mandat : « in administering the Press Censorship I have constantly in view the importance
of discouraging or preventing the publication in Canada of matter distasteful to the Allied
Powers »; Archives publiques du Canada. Secrétariat d'État. RG 6, E, vol. 559, dossier 2091; vol. 638, dossier 104, parties 1 et 2, dossier 104-1; vol. 639, dossiers 104-2 et 104-5; David
Davies, « The Pre-1917 Roots of Canadian-Soviet Relations » in Canadian Historical
Review, vol. LXX, no 2 (June 1989), pp. 198-200; W.H. Kesterton, A History of Journalism
in Canada, Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1967, pp. 245-247.
Sergei Yu. Danilov
Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-19451
Abstract
When Canada and the USSR became allies for the first time in 1942, many
years of mutual dislike and distrust at the official level needed to be undone.
The author describes this process from the Soviet perspective, outlining how a
new image of Canada as a productive, increasingly industrial, and
dependable ally was created for Soviet readers. In order to maintain morale at
home, ideology was downplayed in the USSR and capitalism was even credited
as a force able to generate the means to defeat German fascism. This image
was short-lived, ending in 1945 as the Cold War soon brought the Soviet
perception of Canada back to what it had been before the War.
Résumé
En 1942, lorsque l'URSS et le Canada devinrent alliés pour la première fois,
plusieurs années de méfiance et d'antipathie mutuelles, qui existaient aux
échelons officiels, devaient être défaites. L'auteur décrit ce processus à partir
d'un point de vue soviétique en détaillant comment l'image d'un Canada
productif, de plus en plus industrialisé, et allié fiable, avait été créée à
l'intention du lectorat soviétique. Afin de maintenir un bon moral, l'URSS
minimisa l'importance de l'idéologie et alla jusqu'à reconnaître que le
capitalisme constituait une force susceptible de produire les ressources
nécessaires pour arrêter le fascisme allemand. Cette image du Canada fut de
courte durée, se dissipant en 1945, lorsque la Guerre froide ramena
rapidement la perception soviétique à ce qu'elle était avant la Guerre.
During the Second World War, the intensity of the struggle with Germany
caused a significant reduction in the subjects for discussion in books and
periodical literature as well as in the quantity of publications in the Soviet
Union. Many organs stopped printing altogether and others appeared less
often. Society was militarized and government policies became pragmatic,
subordinating everything to the war effort. Under such conditions, it is
therefore interesting to establish in what manner, and in what quantity, the
Soviet government considered it advisable to report to its population about the
distant and little known Canada.2
There were no more than ten Soviet writers on Canada during the war —
diplomatic specialists and publicists. Among them were: investigators from
the prestigious Institute of World Economy and International Relations
[IMEMO], and consultants to the government, S. Vishnev and A.
Voskresenskii; commentators for the USSR Peoples' Commissariat of
Defence, General M. Galaktionov and Colonel M. Tolchenov; an employee of
the Peoples' Commissariat of Foreign Affairs, A. Goikhbarg, and journalist I.
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
Berezkin.3 Canada was noted in dozens of unsigned chronicle notes in Soviet
newspapers and journals.4 The press also included some materials written by
Canadians of Slavic origin, such as G. Okulevich.5
The information and judgements about Canada which appeared in Soviet
literature and periodicals during the war can readily be divided into several
thematic groups: 1) General information about the country — geographical
data, natural conditions, population statistics and the way of life; 2) economic
development; 3) participation in the international division of labour and world
policies; 4) participation in the war and military strength; 5) comments on the
military strength of the USSR, and salutations to the Soviet government and
people. In the second half of the war, a new theme appeared on the Slavic
societies of Canada, their family links with Russia and Ukraine, and their
relationship to postwar normalization.
General Information about Canada
The origins of the word “Canada” is unknown, it was said in the only wartime
Soviet book devoted to Canada.6 The story of the Indian word “kanata”
(village, region) as the source of the name of the country is not mentioned in
the book. Understandably, almost nothing is said about the early history of the
country before the seventeenth century, since, at that time, Soviet society had
little interest in the events of early history.
On the other hand, the Soviet author allocated considerable space to the natural
conditions of the country. In discussing them, he drew a number of analogies,
above all to his fatherland. In describing the abundance of lakes, rivers and
swamps on the crystalline base of the Canadian shield, Professor Alexandr G.
Goikhbarg compared them with the landscape of the “Karelo-Finnish Soviet
Socialist Republic.”7 The equable climate of the St. Laurence River valley
reminded him of north and middle Ukraine. In order to give his readers an
impression of the “Canadian Corillera” (Rocky Mountains), he wrote that they
surpassed the Ural Mountains by four times at the widest part of its spine.
The Soviet author depicted the extent of Canada, its immensity. “The Hudson
Bay is vast, and almost in every way an open sea,” he wrote.8
The resemblance between the natural conditions of Canada and Russia was
picked up again by I. Berezkin, who gave in 1944 a very compressed but
nonetheless interesting overview of Canada and its inhabitants. “A familiar
view . . . fir, birch, pine, as if we were travelling from Moscow to Kazan,” he
wrote, reminiscing on his railroad trip from Montreal to Ottawa.9
From the perspective of Soviet authors the climate of Canada did not seem
cold, as it would for many visitors from the East, Europe, or Latin America. On
the contrary, they judged it favourably. “The land to the north from Lakes
Ontario and Erie is difficult to cultivate, . . . however, it has a productive
agriculture because of its good climate.” Speaking about the climate of the
Pacific Ocean shores of British Columbia, one Soviet author compared it to the
climates of England and Western France.10 In describing the landscape and
nature, Goikhbarg made some errors, which for the most part were the result of
bad translations from foreign languages. In particular, Northern Ontario and
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Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945
Manitoba were characterized as “desert,”11 which misled readers
considerably.
The majority of Soviet authors on Canada during the war wrote about Canada
as a single people of indeterminate numbers and without any reference to the
national-ethnic differences. The size of the country's population and its actual
make-up were examined only in the work of Berezkin and Goikhbarg. The
latter even contained a short, undetailed list of Canadians by ethnic and
religious characteristics. Eight ethnic groups were reported, including Dutch,
Irish, Scandinavian, German, Poles, and Ukrainians.
It was an officially unrecognized law then not to note the multi-ethnic make-up
character of the population of the country, so a blind-eye on this was kept by
Soviet journalists, experts and editors. Goikhbarg, for example, occasionally
used the terms “franco-Canadians” and “franco-Canadian”, but never used the
term, “anglo-Canadian”. All of the non-franco-Canadians in the country, he
called Canadians. Similarly, “asymmetrical dualism” was authorized by the
state publisher of political literature,12 leaving Soviet readers with only a
vague idea of the problems of the relations between English- and FrenchCanadian society.
The question of “national unity” was raised, however, in the journal Voina i
rabochii klass [War and the Working Class] by its correspondent Berezkin. He
saw in Canada a country with a “French and English population;”13 that is,
symmetrical-dualism in ethnic relations. His formulation gave strength to the
image of Canada as a country in which there was peaceful coexistence between
English-speaking and French-speaking citizens, but he said nothing about
other ethnic groups.
It was characteristic that both the above-named authors, and the remaining
Soviet authors of the period, said nothing about Canada as a two-nation
society, and about the self-determination of any nationality or province in the
country. Canada was perceived not only as a single country, but as a unitary
country from its founding. Almost nothing was said about its Aboriginals or
Inuits. Very little was said about the rights of its nine provinces, at that time,
and their complicated relations with the central government. Goikhbarg, for
example, merely skimmed over the possibility of any “constitutional
hindrance to sending Canadian troops to any place where they deemed it
unnecessary,”14 not saying what the essence of the problem was. Nothing was
said in his work about the isolationist government of Maurice Duplessis.
Berezkin was even less clear about the question of distribution of authority
between the two levels of power in Canada. Only in the most general way did
he acknowledge that each province had its own laws, that “an entire series of
questions about the definition of provincial powers and the competence of
federal and provincial governments are strictly demarcated.”15 The latter of
these statements probably was based on out-of-date information, for in the
1940s there was still no clear demarcation of federal or provincial prerogatives
in a number of spheres, for example, in the question of the protection of civil
rights, social insurance, and labour.
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In so far as the Canadian way of life was concerned, Soviet visitors were struck
most of all by the norms of a democratic open society. They were surprised at
the casualness of the procedures called for by border guards on the CanadianAmerican border: before the war, an American visa was not even required in
order to cross it, and during the war the only further information that was
necessary was the economic circumstance of the travellers: they were required
to have American dollars, or to have an account in one of the United States
banks.16 Needless to say, such procedures must have seemed a fanciful
privilege to a Soviet citizen. Soviet authors were not able to mention such
aspects of Canadian realities as changing local currencies for other basic
currencies in the world (besides hostile states).
It was impossible to pass over such obvious Canadian phenomena as the multiparty system. The Soviet authors studiously listed almost all of the existing
parties: Liberals, Conservatives, Co-operative Commonwealth Federation
[CCF], and the Social Credit Party (for the purpose of the 1940 election
campaign the latter party was named New Democracy).17 The striking
abundance of ethnic organizations of different political persuasions, the
presence of immigrants from different countries and the wide spread between
the two ends of the political spectrum were reported as facts, but without
comment. Nor was much said about the unarguable tolerance of the Canadian
authorities towards different (but not all) political opinions.
A feature of the wartime atmosphere of joint activities of the democratic states,
including Canada and the USSR, against a common enemy was a more
balanced, conciliatory attitude of Soviet authors and editors towards Canadian
affairs. Experts and publicists attempted to describe both the strengths and
weaknesses of Canadian democracy. Class-revolutionary partiality and
predilection yielded pride of place to a greater objectivity. There was no real
criticism directed against Canadian Liberals and Conservatives as political
forces connected with big business and monopoly. Nor were there attacks on
the Senate of Canada as an appointed organ not controlled by the electorate;
rather it was said only that the Senate did not have the right to elect its own
speaker.
Soviet authors, even in the years as allies with the western state, avoided
acknowledging the high standard of living in Canada. However, they gave
readers the idea that Canada was basically a prosperous, comfortable country.
Specifically, it was noted that Canada had a low mortality rate.18 Precise
statistics were provided (a rare circumstance in Soviet mass literature!) on the
annual wage found in Canadian industry. Supplemented with statistics on the
numbers of workers and employers, and about annual cost of production,19
such information had the inevitable result of showing that capitalism even in a
peripheral state with a small population was able to guarantee a productive
current economy and a reasonably good life among the working people. Soviet
visitors at that time admitted that there was no unemployment in the country.
“We have no unemployment, we are living better in wartime than we did
before,” Berezkin quoted an anonymous Montreal worker.20 It is noteworthy
that there were no didactic judgements accompanying this to the effect that
Canada's flourishing economy was due only to the world war.
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Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945
It is true that during the war Canada could not boast of a healthy environment.
Berezkin maintained that he found smog in Montreal. But he was enraptured
by Montreal's Notre-Dame — a “remarkable building” and the beautiful vista
from Mount Royal. He lamented the limited number of historical relics in the
country (bearing in mind that he saw only a small part of Central Canada, was
not in the Maritime Provinces, and in Quebec saw only Montreal). However, in
Ottawa, the parliamentary assembly made a strong impression on him (“very
beautiful”). Berezkin also liked the Peace Tower, the equivalent of which was
in Russia rather than in the USA or Europe. There was a somewhat ticklish
moment when he saw listed in the Book of Remembrance the date when
Canadian troops were sent along with Englishmen to the Russian North in
1918. Berezkin mentioned it, but without commentary.21
The Soviet writers spoke of the Canadian capital city favourably. The only
illustration in Goikhbarg's book was a bird's eye view of Ottawa's parliament.
Berezkin praised the botanical environment in Canada's capital. Looking from
the Peace Tower, he remarked: “The homes are almost invisible, they are
hidden by trees.”22
The testimony of Berezkin is valuable because this was the only report by a
Soviet journalist from Canada itself during the war. The entire Soviet
reportage illustrating life in Canada, both before and after the period under
discussion, indeed right up to the 1980s, was much more meagre than reporting
about life in Europe, the USA, countries of the Middle East, Iran and
Afghanistan.
Both Berezkin and Goikhbarg felt it necessary to emphasize such traits in
Canadian society as the absence of a tradition of militarism and aggression,
and the desire for a peaceful life. “Although we now live well, it would be
better if our children would return home sooner,” a worker told the Soviet
journalist.23 Goikhbarg also provided details of Canadian love for peace and
the sentiment in society above all for a peaceful civilized life: the absence of a
general military conscription in wartime, the limitation of the military after the
First World War, and the utilization between the wars of military planes in
civilian service, and the benefits of a militia system — which made it possible
to put another person forward, for a prescribed sum. The author tacitly said that
Canadian “pacifism” was not tantamount to cowardice or the inability to join
battle, for he then said: “In the war of 1914-1918 Canadian troops, in spite of
their inexperience, provided a model for courage and steadfastness.”24
The pacifist mood in its society and the excellent quality of its soldiers and
officers, combined to shape the civil and educated nature of Canadians.
“Public education in the country is at a sufficiently high level . . . there are
widespread technical and trade schools . . . and 37 state museums and up to one
hundred others . . .”25 The exact number of universities was not mentioned, but
from the text it seemed that there were at least ten, six state and four private. It
was said that the universities in Quebec were French-speaking, and that the
teaching in them was placed “in the hands of the clergy.” McGill was ignored.
Small brochures about national parks also provided information to the author,
but he provided no explanation in his text, and stated only that Canada “is
famous for national parks.” Berezkin praised Canadian documentary films as
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IJCS / RIÉC
“very graphic and convincing,” although again without definition or detail. It
would seem, indeed, that he saw only one film, dedicated to the military forces
of Canada as part of the anti-Hitler coalition.
“Canada has its own literature, beginning with Thomas Haliburton, a judge
and historian of Canada who died in England, where he was a member of the
House of Commons,” it was said in the book by Goikhbarg, who traced this
literary growth to the end of the nineteenth century. At that time, he said,
Canada had many poets. From anglo-Canadian literati, he selected [Charles
G.D.] Roberts, Campbell [possibly Duncan Campbell Scott], and [Bliss]
Carman; of the franco-Canadians, he mentioned Octave Crémazie, Louis
Fréchette, Philippe de Gaspé. A few works were named, and the dates of the
lives of some of the writers included. Nothing was said about the theatre. In so
far as social-cultural matters were concerned, he named only Toronto's Maple
Leaf Gardens, but did not say what it was.26
In illustrating the main facts of Canadian history, Soviet authors of that time
willingly drew from non-Marxist investigations — Russian and Canadian.
They recognized the decisive role played by John A. Macdonald in
establishing the federation. In reference to the North-West rebellion of Louis
Riel, Goikhbarg did not say that the suppression of the second rebellion came
with “unprecedented cruelty” — as the Bolshaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia
[Great Soviet Encyclopedia] had described it in 1935. It was admitted that the
suppression of resistance by Indians and Métis eliminated the obstacles in the
way of settlement in the prairies later “of immigrants from Russia, Central and
Eastern Europe.” In 1943, the Kratkaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia [Short
Soviet Encyclopedia] barely noted the founding of the Communist Party of
Canada, not even naming the year, and Goikhbarg ignored it completely.27 Not
one word about the Canadian communists appeared in Berezkin's piece.
Economic Development
Canada was changing into an industrial-agrarian country — although its rural
population in 1931 was still larger than its urban population — Goikhbarg
informed his readers. The Short Soviet Encyclopedia for 1943 went further and
maintained that Canada was already an industrial-agrarian country. Professor
A. Voskresenskii recalled it as a “rapidly growing country in its economic
relations”, parallel with states of Latin America. This was typical of
assumptions expressed in Soviet wartime periodicals.28
The majority of observers of the Canadian economy began with an overview of
the agriculture sector. Without exception Soviet authors were favourably
impressed by it. Even such laconic sources as the Short Soviet Encyclopedia
did not forget to describe the high level of mechanization of wheat farming in
Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta, the cultivation of oats and barley for the
development of cattle-breeding in Eastern Canada, the fisheries on the ocean
shore lines, and the fur industry in the North.29
Goikhbarg waxed eloquently about Canadian agriculture. He turned the
attention of readers to the high level of wheat production in relation to the
amount of land, the vast amounts of bacon and butter, in which Canada was
166
Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945
nearly as productive as Denmark, and the factories for condensed milk, which
was very scarce in the USSR at that time.
In surveying the industrial sector, Goikhbarg provided information on both the
extractive and primary manufacturing sector and on the war industries. The
beginning of the oil-extraction industry in Alberta did not escape his attention
—that is, up to 1.5 million tons annually. The oil products of Canada almost
reached the level of France, 4-5 million tons per annum. He provided statistics
on annual production in the industrial sector (more than 3 billion dollars) and
the annual wages paid by it — 600 million dollars. However, the author
virtually ignored the manufacturing branch of industry. The Short Soviet
Encyclopedia, on the other hand, discussed the secondary industrial sector in
comparative detail, noting that it encompassed 445 thousand workers and
office personnel. The most important branches were non-ferrous metallurgy,
automobile construction, electro-technology, and the food, chemical and
rubber industries.30
The transport sector in Canada attracted the particular attention of Soviet
experts. Colonel M. Tolchenov saw in Canada an example of exceptional
potential and already a rapidly progressing aviation power, having in sight
civilian aviation in the postwar years. “The beneficial geographical conditions
and the widely distributed aviation industrial work and airports, all give the
basic industrial [more accurately, business — S.D.] circles of Canada the
ambition to play a significant role in the exploitation of future international air
lines,” he wrote, citing the prediction of the current president of Trans-Canada
Airlines, H.J. Symington. Example of such future air routes included North
Atlantic (he meant the northern parts of North America — S.D.); Western
Europe, Yukon, Alaska, Asia, Vancouver; Pacific Ocean — Asia.31
Voskresenskii of IMEMO said much the same thing. In War and the Working
Class, he wrote that Canada was already ranked fourth among the aviation
states of the world. It had a chance to be converted into a global transport crossroad, or at the very least into a “central link in the imperial air service.”32
It was unusual to see information in the Soviet press about such factors in the
development of the transport sector as the construction through its territory of
the Alaskan Highway, connecting the USA and Alaska — which, after the war,
was acquired by Canada. But it was mentioned.33
Soviet authors noted, not without respect, the power of Canadian banks, which
in the 1940s played a role in the economies of Newfoundland, Cuba, Puerto
Rico, British Guyana and several other countries in the Western hemisphere.
On the pages of Soviet publications, one could come across such Canadian
phenomena as state corporations — Canadian National, Trans-Canada
Airlines, Polymer Corporation. There was also a brief overview of such sectors
of the Canadian economy as the service sector, which was completely outside
the field of vision and analysis of Soviet authors (this position remained the
case up to the present). The fact that it was ignored was probably determined
by a lesser degree of concentrated information on the sector, and its
comparatively little influence. During the war Soviet authors did not write
about the cooperative movement in Canada.
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IJCS / RIÉC
Given the peculiar ideological armistice with capitalistic democracy, Soviet
propaganda was softened to a great extent in 1941-1944. It was fully tolerant of
the capitalist character of the Canadian economy, including the receipt by
owners and monopolies of shares in the profits — the traditional object of
harsh enmity of the Marxists. In 1914-1918 vast military profits extracted by
Canadian capitalists created in the country a large money market; the
recipients of these profits gave 80 percent of the sum for the huge war loan . . .
“In 1942 1.2 million subscribers to the second `victory loans' gave around 1
billion dollars.”34 Such information later only rarely appeared in Soviet
literature, right up to the end of the 1980s when once again it became possible
to write not only about the exploitive function of capital, but also about the
creative possibilities and achievements of the private and mixed economies of
democratic countries.
Integration into International Cooperation. Canada's War Effort
The encyclopedia issued by the USSR in those years defined Canada as a
“dominion of the British Empire.” It was emphasized that after 1867 the
country achieved a large degree of independence, and after the First World
War it added considerable autonomy in questions of war and peace and the
right to conclude international treaties apart from England. Although it was
also stated that in the 1940s Canada became more dependent on “North
American” than British capital, in all external policies it much more often
relied on England. The USA still ranked second in foreign affairs (for example,
it was reported that in the Second World War, Canada participated “on the side
of England”).35 In this regard it is noteworthy that the agreement about
establishing direct Canada-Soviet diplomatic relations, 12 June 1942, was
signed in London.
In relation to the degree of Canada's independence in foreign policy, Soviet
readers did not have the opportunity to judge such facts as its independence
from both England and the USA in the declaration of war against Japan, signed
by it as a separate, equal state on 1 January 1942. Other independent acts
included Canada's part in the declaration of 26 states in the joint struggle
against aggressive countries, the approval by Canada of the declaration of
Mexico as a combatant, and Canada's separate Annex to the statement of the
British government abrogating the juridical force of the Munich agreement of
1938. In the reports of the People's Commissariat of Foreign Trade about aid
received by the Soviet Union from Lend-Lease, Canada was listed as a
separate donor, although without an exact statement about its role in such
assistance.36
Short notices also were printed about Canada's agreement with the Chief of the
Italian government, Pietro Badoglio, as an ally and as a belligerent, on
Canada's participation in United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation
Administration, and on the Canada-China agreement on military deliveries.
All this helped create a basic assumption among Soviet readers of Canada as a
state whose conduct reflected an independent and active policy.
Soviet authors wrote very little in the war years about the fact of the integration
of Canada and the USA. Information about the creation of a Canadian-
168
Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945
American Permanent Joint Board on Defence in 1940, or about the
construction of the USA-Alaska Highway was scanty and was presented
solely from the perspective of a need for a joint struggle by the democratic
states against the axis countries.37 Information about Canada's war effort, its
contribution in the struggle with Germany, was more detailed. The potential of
the country was estimated in very positive tones. The authoritative words of
economists S. Vishnev and A. Shpirt: “A significant part of the enterprises of
Great Britain were Canadian enterprises, for example, the Dominions (Canada
and others), which were practically inaccessible to enemy aircraft, made
available numerous, fresh, almost unlimited armies,” were presented in
Bolshevik, an organ of the CPSU Central Committee, as the standard Soviet
opinion of the significance of Canada's war effort.38
Although the good feeling generated by the Soviet wartime press towards
Canada did not survive the war, the overall theme of Soviet writing at that time
provided an interesting foretaste of the subsequent pragmatic vision of Canada
and the Soviet Union as neighbours in the North. The notion of Canada as a
victim of the crisis in capitalism, caught in the struggle between Britain and the
United States for resources, never fully overwhelmed the notion that Canada had
a thriving existence of its own — and that the similarities between Russia and
Canada would always be there as stepping stones for a future modus vivendi.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Editor's note: This paper was sent to CRCR by Professor Danilov as part of research he is
undertaking for the Centre on Soviet perception of Canada. It has been translated from the
Russian by J.L. Black.
The paper does not consider the USSR's pre-war years, that is, up to the time of the German
invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941. Before that time the standard Soviet view of
Canada was a reflection of the Leninist vision of the world as one divided between two
immutably hostile camps: socialism and imperialism. Nor does it cover the immediate
postwar years when the emerging Cold War saw a resuscitation of pre-war opinions on both
sides. It is a survey of Soviet published material about Canada as a wartime ally, 1942-1945,
when the Soviet public for the first time could read about Canada as a natural partner. This
vision was to be resurrected seriously only in the early 1970s during détente and then again,
more permanently, as the era of perestroika reached its climax in 1989.
Unless they are designated as “Editor's note,” all further footnotes are Danilov's.
Such “unifying links” between the Soviet and Canadian people as hockey competitions and
regular deliveries of grain did not then exist.
Details on the professions and places of work of these authors were impossible to determine
because of the tradition of secrecy in the USSR.
Among these were: Pravda [Truth, the organ of the CPSU], Izvestiia [News, the organ of the
Soviet government], Krasnaia zvezda [Red Star, paper of the Ministry of Defence],
Kommunisticheskii internatsional [Communist International, 1919-43, a Comintern
magazine], Voina i rabochii klass [War and the Working Class, founded 1943, predecessor
of the New Times], Slaviane [magazine of the Slavonic Committee of the USSR, 1942-58],
and Bolshevik [CPSU CC journal].
Editor's note: Grigorii Okulevich, secretary of the Federation of Russian Canadians. Author
of Russkie v Kanade [Russians in Canada], Toronto, 1952.
A. G. Goikhbarg, Kanada (Ogiz, 1942), 11. [The booklet of 47 pages was published by the
State Political Publishing House, in a run of 30,000 copies — ed.]
Editor's note: The Goikhbarg book appeared after the Soviet-Finnish War, November 1939
to March 1940, during which the USSR took some 16,000 sq. miles of territory from Finland
169
IJCS / RIÉC
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
170
and added it to a newly-formed Karelo-Finnish SSR. The republic was downgraded to its
pre-war status as an autonomous republic (ASSR) within the RSFSR in 1956.
Goikhbarg, 4-6.
I. Berezkin, “Neskol'ko dnei v Kanade (Travel Notes)” [A Few Days In Canada (Travel
Notes)], Voina i rabochii klass, No. 19 (1944), 24-27, cited here, 24.
Goikhbarg, 6, 14.
Goikhbarg, 16.
We bear in mind that up until the 1980s the point of view of any Soviet author was expected
to be identical to the point of view of the publisher or editor of periodic organs.
Berezkin, 25.
Goikhbarg, 45.
Berezkin, 26, 27.
Berezkin, 24.
Goikhbarg, 10.
Goikhbarg, 7-8.
Goikhbarg, 32.
Berezkin, 25.
Berezkin, 26-27.
Berezkin, 26.
Ibid.
Goikhbarg, 42-45.
Berezkin, 25-26; Goikhbarg, 40-41.
Goikhbarg, 41-42.
Goikhbarg, 18; Kratkaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia (Moscow: Sovetskaia entsiklopediia,
1943), 601.
Kratkaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia (1943), 600; Goikhbarg, 23; Bolshevik, No. 4 (1944),
22.
Kratkaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia, 600, 601.
Goikhbarg, 32; Kratkaia Sovetskaia Entsiklopediia, 601.
Bolshevik, No. 11 (1943), 25.
Voskresenskii, “Poslevoennye problemy grazhdanskoi aviatsii” [Postwar Problems in Civil
Aviation], Voina i rabochii klass, No. 12 (1944), 11-15, cited here, 15. [See also
Voskresenskii, ibid., No. 4 (1944), 22-27].
Goikhbarg, 20; Pravda (29 June 1942).
Goikhbarg, 44.
Editor's Note: It could hardly have been said that Canada “participated on the side of the
USA” when Canada declared war against Germany in September 1939, shortly after Britain
did so, and the USA entered the fray officially only after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor in
December, 1941.
Editor's note: Details on Canadian aid to Russia were, in fact, available in such specialized
publications as Vneshnaia torgovlia [Foreign Trade], e.g., No. 2/3 (1944), 29-32; No. 3
(1945), 23-28; and Mirovoe khoziaistvo i mirovoi politika [World Economy and World
Policy], e.g., No. 9 (1944), 36-41.
Editor's note: In 1940, while the Molotov-Ribbentrop Non-Aggression Pact was still in
force, the Soviet press had taken a very dim view of the Canada-USA joint defence
arrangements concluded at Ogdensburg, New York. See, for example, Pravda (20, 23
August; 5, 26 October 1940).
Editor's note: It is worth noting, because of its implications for later relationships, that there
was one brief departure in the favourable wartime Soviet reporting about Canada. When, in
March 1943, the Ukraine Canadian Committee (UCC) called for the establishment of an
independent Ukraine after the war, the Soviet government reacted immediately. A formal
protest was lodged with the Canadian government and strongly-worded press releases were
distributed to the Canadian press. But it wasn't until six weeks after the event that the Soviet
press carried a flurry of articles accusing the UCC of “treason” and serving as Nazi
“lackeys.” See A. Bogomolets, “Sovetskaia Ukraina i Ukrainsko-nemetskie natsionalisty v
Kanade” [Soviet Ukraine and Ukraino-German Nationalists in Canada], Pravda and
Izvestiia (13 May 1943); P. Tychyna, “Proch' griaznye ruki ot Ukrainy!” [Take Your Dirty
Hands off Ukraine], Pravda and Izvestiia (14 May 1943). These two pieces also were
Soviet Perceptions of Canada, 1942-1945
summarized in Slaviane, No. 5 (1943), 44-45. But the issue was not raised again in the Soviet
mass media until after the war.
171
Matt Bray
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident
in Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations*
Abstract
In the 1930s, the International Nickel Company of Canada [INCO] invested
several million dollars in the development of valuable nickel deposits in the
Petsamo district of northern Finland. With World War II, and particularly
with German control of continental Europe in the spring of 1940, INCO was
faced with a dilemma. Germany and the Soviet Union both pressed Finland to
force INCO to direct the flow of nickel from Petsamo to their respective
industrial complexes. For its own peculiar reasons Great Britain was
prepared to authorize INCO to sell nickel even to Germany, but the Canadian
government of William Lyon Mackenzie King adamantly refused to consider
any such possibility. Forced to choose between its own business interests and
those of Canada, INCO opted for the latter, surrendering the Petsamo
properties to Finnish-German control for the duration of the war, and then
watching helplessly as the Soviet Union annexed the Petsamo district in the
fall of 1944. Over the long term the decision was a costly one, for while INCO
was compensated $20 million for the loss of the concession, Petsamo
(renamed Pechenga) inaugurated the Soviet Union's nickel industry, one that
by the 1970s had seriously cut into INCO's world market share.
Résumé
Durant les années 1930, la International Nickel Company of Canada (INCO)
investissait plusieurs millions de dollars dans l'exploitation des riches dépôts
de nickel situés dans la région de Petsamo au nord de la Finlande. La
Deuxième Guerre mondiale et surtout l'emprise allemande sur l'Europe
continentale au printemps de 1940 créèrent pour INCO un dilemme.
L'Allemagne et l'Union soviétique pressaient la Finlande de forcer INCO à
orienter l'approvisionnement de nickel de Petsamo vers leur complexe
industriel respectif. Pour des raisons qui lui étaient propres, la GrandeBretagne était même disposée à autoriser INCO à vendre son nickel à
l'Allemagne. Mais le Gouvernement canadien de William Lyon Mackenzie
King refusa catégoriquement d'envisager une telle possibilité. Contrainte à
choisir entre ses intérêts commerciaux et les intérêts du Canada, INCO opta
pour ceux-ci et céda, pendant la durée de la guerre, son exploitation de
Petsamo au contrôle finno-allemand. Puis, à l'automne 1944, l'Union
soviétique annexa la région de Petsamo. À long terme, cette décision s'avéra
coûteuse, malgré la compensation de 20 millions de dollars que INCO reçue
pour la perte de cette concession. Petsamo (rebaptisée Pechenga) lançait
l'industrie du nickel de l'Union soviétique, qui, dès les années 1970, s'était
taillée une bonne part du marché international que détenait INCO.
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
According to conventional wisdom, transnational business organizations like
the International Nickel Company of Canada (INCO1) have little loyalty to
their host state beyond that required by legal exigencies and the realities of
power. A Canadian corporation with headquarters in New York, INCO in the
1930s was largely American-owned, but with a significant minority of British
and Canadian shareholders. The company's mining and smelting operations
and copper refinery were located in Sudbury, Ontario, and its nickel refining
facilities in Port Colborne, Ontario, Huntington, West Virginia, and Clydach,
Wales. Controlling roughly 80% of the world's nickel market, its sales were
concentrated mainly in the United States, Great Britain and Europe. Given this
multi-national character and a situation in which INCO was free to choose
between its broader corporate interests and those of Canada, the choice would
appear obvious.
Historical fact does not always conform to theoretical hypothesis. In the
summer of 1940, this scenario did arise. Faced with the alternatives of
retaining or losing control of a valuable nickel concession in northern Finland,
INCO chose to comply with the wishes of the Canadian government and
withdraw from Petsamo. The decision was all the more surprising in view of
the fact that, for its own peculiar reasons, Great Britain preferred INCO to hold
onto the Petsamo property at virtually any cost.
The largely unexamined history of these developments reveals much about the
perplexities of a Canadian company doing business in a European world first
on the brink of, and then precipitated into, war, and about the CanadianBritish-Finnish-Soviet diplomatic context of those events. It also sheds new
light on a small but important aspect of Great Britain's war strategy in the
fateful summer of 1940, and on Canada's role in modifying that policy.
***
International Nickel originated in 1902 as a New Jersey, incorporated holding
company with two major subsidiaries, the Canadian Copper Company [CCC],
with mining and smelting operations in Sudbury, and the Orford Copper
Company [ORC], whose nickel refining works were located in Bayonne, New
Jersey. Both Canadian Copper and Orford Copper dated from the mid-1880s.
Until 1904, INCO shared the world nickel stage with Le Nickel, the French,
Rothschilds-controlled company with mines and a smelter in New Caledonia
and refineries in Europe and Great Britain. That year, however, the two, along
with the newly minted Mond Nickel Company of Great Britain, renegotiated a
secret and steadfastly denied market-sharing and price-controlling agreement
that shifted the balance very much in INCO's favour. From this point onward,
INCO advanced from strength to strength, while Le Nickel declined and Mond
struggled to keep pace.
World War I threw the collusive nickel agreement into disarray because one of
the three selling agents by which it was implemented was German,
Metallgesellschaft of Frankfurt. Immediately after the conflict, efforts to
revive the agreement failed, largely because Mond Nickel attempted to
challenge INCO's dominance of the industry by entering the hitherto closed
174
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
American market. In 1923, INCO, Mond and Le Nickel were finally able to
come to terms once again, with a new market-sharing and price-controlling
arrangement recognizing Mond's right to a share of U.S. sales. But Mond's
efforts to exercise that right ended in failure, so much so that in 1928, Mond's
president and majority shareholder, Lord Melchett, the former Sir Alfred
Mond, initiated discussions with INCO that led to the merger of the two
companies in 1929. Thereafter, Mond Nickel continued to exist only as a
wholly-owned INCO subsidiary.
The union of the world's two largest nickel producers created a near-monopoly
situation in the industry, which from INCO's perspective was both highly
desirable and fraught with potential legal difficulties given the American antitrust laws in effect at the time. To avoid those difficulties, INCO performed an
intricate but ingenious corporate gymnastic exercise. In 1918, it had
incorporated under Canadian law a subsidiary, the International Nickel
Company of Canada, and folded into it the Canadian assets of the Canadian
Copper Company, as well as its new Ontario nickel refinery at Port Colborne.
In the autumn of 1928, therefore, it transposed the roles of INCO, Canada and
INCO, New Jersey, making the former the parent and the latter the subsidiary.
At a stroke, the U.S. anti-trust problem disappeared because Mond merged
with INCO, Canada, formally a Canadian company, if one of convenience.
***
INCO, Canada first learned about the nickel deposits in the Petsamo district of
northern Finland in October 1930 from Metallgesellschaft, once again its
European selling agent.2 The Great Depression delayed an evaluation of the
property, but by 1933, two contrasting trends — rapidly expanding nickel
markets worldwide but a precipitous drop in INCO's share of European sales
— disposed the company more favourably to it.3 In August, J.C. Nicholls,
general manager of INCO's Sudbury operations, undertook a preliminary
examination of the deposits.4 His assessment of their potential, as
communicated to Paul Merica, assistant to INCO President, Robert Stanley,
was guarded. Only one ore body was large, and the metal content of the core
samples was relatively low. “Nevertheless,” Merica wrote, “in view of the
present high price of nickel in Europe and the interest of Krupps and others,
including I G [Farbenindustrie], in deposits of this nature, we are inclined to
feel that we should take some step at least to secure control over them for a few
years.”5
To facilitate negotiations, Professor J.J. Sederholm, former director of the
Finnish Geological Commission and discoverer of the Petsamo deposits in
1924, and J.O. Soderhjelm of the firm of Serlachius and Ryti in Helsinki, were
engaged as consulting engineer and legal counsel respectively. Standing very
much in Soderhjelm's favour was the fact that he was a Finnish member of
parliament, and his partner, Serlachius, the Minister of Justice.6
INCO officials spent the latter part of October and early November 1933
working on the details of a draft proposal for concession of the Petsamo ores.
On the recommendation of D. Owen Evans, the Delegate Director of INCO's
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IJCS / RIÉC
British subsidiary, Mond Nickel, the agreement was formally arranged with
Mond rather than INCO. One reason was simply geographic; it was more
convenient to deal with Finland from London than New York. Secondly, the
currency exchange between Finland and England was then favourable. Lastly,
the company sought to take advantage of friendly relations between Finland
and Great Britain.7 Still, INCO, Canada closely supervised Mond negotiations
with the Finnish government.
Those negotiations proved to be more protracted than first anticipated. The
major difficulty was that the two parties had very different objectives. Like
other depression-bound countries, Finland faced high unemployment and
looked to the Petsamo mines to help alleviate the problem. Its chief concern
was to ensure that a maximum number of jobs were created in the shortest
possible time.8 INCO's goal was quite the reverse, particularly given the
indifferent assay reports which it continued to receive. According to Merica,
the company sought to avoid “undertaking any commitment with respect to the
operation of [the] Petsamo plant,...”9
INCO/Mond officials believed that they held the upper hand in the
negotiations because Finland had few other options. Government operation of
Petsamo was a theoretical but not a realistic possibility given the poor record of
the state-owned Outokumpo Copper mine.10 Besides, argued Evans' assistant
and a Mond negotiator, Edgar Pam, “[state ownership] would be satisfactory
for us owing [to] governmental inefficiency resulting [in] slow progress.”11
Furthermore, the only other company to show a serious interest in the deposits,
the Krupps of Germany, had reportedly withdrawn from the field because of
Petsamo's remote and uneconomic location.12
At first, therefore, INCO was not in any particular rush to conclude an
agreement, but in mid-January 1934, the company's attitude abruptly changed.
New assays of the Petsamo core samples by INCO metallurgists revealed that
the Finnish Geological Commission had underestimated by as much as
seventy percent the amount of nickel and by twenty-five percent the amount of
copper in the deposits. Edgar Pam was ordered to hasten proceedings, but also
cautioned not to let Finnish authorities know about this development as “it
would only increase their idea of the value [of the ore] and...make negotiations
difficult”.13
Speeding up the process proved easier said than done. Over the next several
months, the discussions were characterized by a series of thrusts and parries,
points and counterpoints, as each side sought to craft the agreement in terms to
its best advantage. Even when the two were finally satisfied, Finnish
negotiators still had the delicate political task of getting it accepted by their
governmental colleagues. Not until June 7, 1934 was Evans able to cable
Merica that the “Finland government unanimously approved agreement
today.”14
In general terms, the Agreement, formally signed on June 22, provided for a
three-year exploratory period to commence no later than May 31, 1935, with
an additional two-year option. During these periods, Mond Nickel was
required to spend £10,000 and £5,000 respectively. At the end of exploration,
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INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
Mond was allowed four years to equip and organize its operations before
actually going into production. Conceivably, therefore, commercial
operations might not begin until 1944, and even then the company was
required to produce only 1,000 tons of nickel ore in the first year, 1,500 tons in
each of the second and third, and 2,000 tons per annum thereafter. The length
of the agreement was forty years from the date of the commencement of
commercial operations, with an option for an additional forty years. A 5%
royalty system of payment would come into effect when operations began.
Mond agreed to establish a Finnish subsidiary which, for taxation purposes,
would be treated like other Finnish companies. “The Event of War” section
covered two scenarios, a European conflict involving Finland, and one which
did not. Finally, Mond was permitted to cancel the agreement at any time on
twelve months notice.15
From the perspective of INCO president, Robert Stanley, the Petsamo
arrangements were extremely satisfactory. In a letter to Charles Hayden,
Chairman of the Board, on August 28, 1934, he noted that even the members of
the company's Executive Committee “failed to grasp the importance of the
agreement....The property is the most promising from the standpoint of
geology, surface sampling, and preliminary diamond drilling, that we have
ever examined outside of Ontario. Should this property have gotten into
German hands, with their low-cost refining processes, very serious inroads
into our foreign business would have resulted.” The agreement, he stressed,
gave the company ample time to explore the Petsamo deposits at a minimum
cost, required a maximum annual production of only 4 1/2% of INCO's present
rate, and could be cancelled at any time without penalty other than the
expenses already incurred. “From the standpoint of protecting the Company,”
Stanley concluded, “I consider the negotiations just closed with Finland to be
one of the most important the executives have undertaken.”16
Given this estimation of Petsamo's worth, it was not surprising that Mond
officials moved quickly to implement the agreement. A first step was the
creation of the Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y. [PNO], the Finnish subsidiary of Mond.
Capitalized at 250,000 Finmarks, the constituent meeting of PNO was held on
August 9, at which time the direction of the company was assigned to a threeman Board consisting of Edgar Pam, J.O. Soderhjelm, and Hendrik Ramsay,
chairman of the Board of the Finnish Steamship Company, and, like
Soderhjelm, well connected politically.17 Commencement of the first
exploration period began on December 31, 1934.
In a step taken for internal corporate reasons but which turned out to be critical
in the history of the Petsamo venture, all 250 shares of PNO were assigned by
Mond Nickel to INCO, Canada in November 1934, the price being their face
value, a little more than $5,500.00.18 The transfer was more than symbolic.
PNO nominally continued as a Mond subsidiary, but over the course of the
next five years the direction of work at Petsamo was firmly in INCO hands.
The INCO Executive Committee regularly allocated funds to the project, for
example, $50,000 in September 1934, $75,000 in December 1934, $100,000
in June 1935, $225,000 in August 1936, and another $100,000 in December
177
IJCS / RIÉC
1936, meeting the expenditure requirements of the concession agreement
many times over.19
INCO's year of decision on Petsamo was 1937. In February, the Executive
Committee approved the expenditure of $500,000 on development work for
the coming year, and in early June, PNO was instructed to exercise the option
on the second exploration period as of December 31.20 Clearly, the company
was planning to do much more than that. Over the course of the summer,
extensive testing on the ore demonstrated that electric smelting was the most
economical reduction process. In September, the INCO Executive Committee
authorized Stanley to begin negotiations with the Finnish government for
construction of a hydro-electric power plant in the vicinity of the mine, at a
projected cost of $2.5 million.21
On November 22, 1937, Stanley outlined Petsamo's immense potential to
Donald MacAskill, the vice-president of INCO, Canada. Somewhere between
six and seven million tons of ore “similar in nickel-copper contents but of
higher grade than Creighton ore” had already been proven, he asserted, and
more was likely to be found. Considering that INCO had prospered from the
Creighton ore body at Sudbury for over thirty-five years, this was high praise
indeed. Petsamo, he believed, could easily produce one million pounds of
nickel monthly, nearly half of German and one-third of Soviet consumption
that year, as well as a half million pounds of copper. Overall, the INCO
president saw nothing but benefits from Petsamo; “...aside from protecting our
European business,” he added, “this new source of nickel supply might prove
of inestimable value in meeting labour crises or trade barriers.”22
Late in December 1937, PNO director Hendrik Ramsay informed the Ministry
of Trade and Industry that, as of January 1938, the company would begin to
equip the Kaulatunturi mine.23 In May 1938, the INCO Executive Committee
approved in principle the more than $4 million needed to complete the project.
Aside from the mine, heavy expenditures were required for the development of
Kolosjoki, the new town constructed at the mine site, for the electric smelter,
and for the dam and hydro-electric power station at Janiskoski, fifty miles
southwest of Kolosjoki. Matte production was not scheduled to start until the
end of 1940 when hydro-electricity became available. Mining operations, on
the other hand, would begin a year earlier.24
To meet this schedule, a detailed development program was prepared during
the summer of 1938. Because of the similarity of the ore body to those in the
Sudbury area, officials at Copper Cliff were given responsibility for the design
of the mining systems and the smelter, although overall supervision of the
project was assigned to Edgar Pam in London.25 The company also drew
heavily on its Sudbury operations for supervisory personnel. Several officials
and their families, including the on-site superintendent, I.J. Simcox, moved to
Kolosjoki.26
By December 1938, only about a third of the $4 million had actually been spent
at Petsamo, although officials were still confident that production would begin
in the autumn of 1940.27 In May 1939, the INCO Executive Committee
approved revised expenditure estimates of over $3 million for the year.28 From
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INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
a technological perspective, Petsamo's mining and smelting facilities were
state-of-the-art. The smelter's two furnaces were the largest in the world at that
time, its converters the largest in Europe. To disperse the inevitable sulphur
fumes as widely as possible, a 500-foot chimney, the tallest in Europe, was
erected.29
***
Throughout 1939, work at Petsamo proceeded according to plan. And then at
the beginning of September came war. Article 12, clause 1, of the concession
agreement which provided for this circumstance, the outbreak of a general
European conflict in which Finland was not involved, was of limited use
because it assumed that the Petsamo plant would actually be in production.30
This not being the case, PNO's status was uncertain. From Helsinki, J.O.
Soderhjelm reported on September 4 that he intended to follow his instruction
of a year earlier, which was, in the event of war, to keep development work
going as long as possible. He added that shortages of gasoline and oil and
interrupted deliveries of supplies were already creating difficulties. With
respect to the general political situation, he speculated that if the conflict
persisted for any length of time, Germany would put increasing pressure on
Finland for access to the Petsamo ore, but he did not think this was an
immediate problem.31
INCO/Mond officials were not so sure. For reasons of economy and because of
the potential German, and possibly Russian, threat, they wanted to curtail if not
completely suspend operations at Petsamo, a decision communicated to
Soderhjelm by Pam on September 13.32 Soderhjelm immediately discussed
the situation with Ramsay and the Finnish Foreign Minister, Vaino Tanner,
both of whom objected to the company's plans on the grounds that neither
Germany nor Russia posed an immediate danger. Furthermore, Soderhjelm
argued that “prospects of full protection of Finnish Government better if we act
as Finnish Company and avoid increasing unemployment whilst cutting down
work would accentuate our foreign character.”33
Pam remained unconvinced, and on September 15 sought an interview with
Lawrence Collier of the British Foreign Office to discuss the situation,
intimating that INCO/Mond was even prepared to adopt a policy “amounting if
necessary to mild sabotage” if authorities so recommended.34 The meeting
took place a week later, with Evans, Soderhjelm and Simcox, quickly recalled
from Finland, representing Mond Nickel. Collier advised compliance with the
Finnish government's wish that PNO continue operations, if at a somewhat
reduced rate, but urged Soderhjelm to get a commitment in writing from
Finnish authorities that German pressure for access to the Petsamo nickel
would be resisted.35 With Foreign Office approval, Pam, Soderhjelm and
Simcox then prepared a program of reduced activities designed
simultaneously to preserve good relations with the Finnish government,
economize, safeguard INCO's investment and prevent Petsamo nickel from
reaching enemy countries.36 As D. Owen Evans cabled J.C. Nicholls, “whole
programme based on keeping our property less attractive to Germany Russia
and helping Finnish government to resist overtures by Germany.”37
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IJCS / RIÉC
At a PNO Board meeting in late September, Soderhjelm was authorized to
explain the policy fully to those members of the Finnish government he
thought appropriate.38 On October 2, he met with Vainio Voionmaa, the
Minister of Trade and Industry, and a week later received from him a strong
letter of support which, in Soderhjelm's rather awkward translation, read in
part:
...I beg to inform you that your plans are not contradictory to Finnish
interests nor to the endeavors of the Finnish Government. Answering
your enquiries in this respect I assure that the Finnish Government
irrespective of the severe conditions caused by the state of war will
protect the rights of Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y. under the concession and
other agreements as well as under Finnish law. The Government will
not force the company to any production in favour of any interests
strange to its head companies nor claim that the company should
leave their property to the use of such interests.39
Fears about the Finnish reaction to PNO's reduced activities were thus put to
rest.
By the time of the receipt of this letter, of course, the situation in Finland had
taken a decidedly more serious turn. On October 5, the Soviet Union called
Finnish representatives to Moscow to negotiate a readjustment of their
borders, the first step on the tortuous path to the outbreak of the Winter War of
1939-1940. As might be expected, Soderhjelm's next two letters to Pam, dated
October 12 and October 16 but delivered together, were preoccupied not with
Germany but with Russia and the likelihood of war. In this threatening
atmosphere, he reported, activities at Petsamo continued, but at a much
reduced pace. Construction of the hydro-electric dams had ceased, and many
workers at the other locations had either been called up for military duty, or
departed for their homes in southern Finland. Procedures to shut down
operations entirely if war broke out were in place. Visas to Norway and
Sweden had been obtained for PNO's non-Finnish employees. Fortunately,
those at Kolosjoki could easily escape to Norway within an hour.40
As relations between Finland and the Soviet Union deteriorated throughout
November 1939, the PNO's position became increasingly untenable.
Operations slowly ground to a standstill. By the middle of the month, Simcox
was even uncertain about what work to continue at the Kaulatunturi mine.
Pam's advice was simply to produce waste rock so as “to avoid putting more
temptation in the way of Russia or Germany, as, for instance, by building up a
stockpile of good grade ore.”41
The outbreak of the Winter War on November 30, 1939 between Finland and
the Soviet Union abruptly halted the Petsamo project. On December 2, Simcox
cabled that “Due to situation have stopped all work and have placed records we
think safe place stop Have sent to Norway all foreign families.”42 They
journeyed first to Kirkenes and then to Bergen, where in mid-December all but
one departed by sea for New York.43 The exception was Simcox who
remained in Norway and Sweden until early March 1940, to look after
company interests.44 In London, meanwhile, Evans again contacted Lawrence
Collier at the British Foreign Office, offering to sabotage the mine at
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INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
Kolosjoki, but neither he nor officials in the Ministry of Economic Warfare
thought this necessary.45
With Finland at war, the government, according to Article 12, clause 2 of the
1934 agreement, had “the right to take possession of and utilise according to
Finnish law all Mond's equipment and means of conveyance and
communications.”46 In the winter of 1939-1940, however, that right remained
largely theoretical. Because the district was left virtually undefended, most of
the Finnish forces being deployed far to the south of Petsamo, it fell quickly to
invading Soviet troops.47
The Soviet army inflicted only minor damages on the hydro-electric facilities
at Janiskoski and on the smelter at Kolosjoki, and were particularly careful not
to harm the Kaulatunturi mine.48 Soderhjelm informed Mond officials on
March 28, 1940 that mainly roads, docks, houses and barracks had been
destroyed, largely by bombing.49 Later he reported that, according to captured
Soviet pilots, the invading forces had been instructed not to attack PNO
facilities, and that the Finns who reoccupied Kolosjoki were even required by
the Soviet military personnel guarding the mine site to confirm that what they
described as the “American property” was undisturbed.50
Why the Treaty of Moscow, which formally concluded the Winter War on
March 12, 1940, provided for Soviet annexation of 10% of Finnish territory
but restored the Petsamo region has been the subject of some debate. After all,
until 1920, the area had been part of the Russian empire, and the nickel industry
in the U.S.S.R. was in its infancy. The Soviet foreign minister, V.M. Molotov,
gave at the time the logical, but rather unconvincing, explanation that it was
important for Finland, a northern country, to have an ice free port. More
plausible, particularly given the care taken by the occupying forces not to
damage the mine itself, was the contention of Field Marshall Gustaf
Mannerheim, the Finnish Commander-in-Chief, that the Soviets were
extremely sensitive to the foreign ownership of the Petsamo concession. The
British Foreign Office also believed that because the relative strengths of the
German and Allied military forces was uncertain, the Soviet Union hesitated to
alienate either the British or the neutral Americans.51
The restoration of Petsamo to Finland was certainly welcomed by
INCO/Mond officials, but it left them in a quandary as to how to proceed.
Soderhjelm, who had become Minister of Justice in the Finnish National
Coalition government formed during the war, urged on March 28, 1940 that
work be resumed “on a modest scale” in order to provide much needed
employment. Rumours circulating in Finland and Great Britain that both
Germany and the Soviet Union had designs on the Petsamo nickel counselled
caution, however. Mond's D. Owen Evans informed the British Ministry of
Economic Warfare on April 17 that they were inclined to limit expenditures
“to the lowest figure...feasible”.52 The Ministry strongly supported this policy,
partly because it provided an opportunity to plant secret agents among the
PNO workforce to sabotage the mine if Russia seized control of it.53
Deciding precisely what level of expenditure to adopt was not easy. On April
23, Soderhjelm estimated the cost of repairing the damages at Kolosjoki at
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IJCS / RIÉC
$375,000. He also urged that for employment purposes an additional $250,000
be allocated for the completion of the earthen dam at Janiskoski. This show of
good faith, he argued, was essential because the Finnish government was “very
anxious” for work to recommence.54 Two days later, Evans rejected this
advice, informing Soderhjelm that because no matte would be produced until
after the war, expenditures would be kept to an “absolute minimum,” and
approving only $12,500 for the clean-up of Kolosjoki.55 This reply did not
satisfy Soderhjelm, and at the end of the month he went on the offensive.
Unless INCO was intending to abandon the concession, he countered,
$600,000 would have to be committed immediately to Petsamo. Along with
the stick came a carrot. The Finnish government, he said, would probably pay
Mond $125,000 for war damages, and another $250,000 to $300,000 for
materials requisitioned during the Winter War.56
Evans was particularly impressed by this argument. At the end of April, he
cabled a copy of his correspondence with Soderhjelm to Robert Stanley, and
urged the INCO president to authorize the $600,000 expenditure. “We
believe,” he wrote, “the value of the concession is so great from broadest point
of view and chances of retaining it after war sufficiently good to make it worth
investing a further 10 per cent on outlay already expended.”57 In mid-May, the
INCO Executive Committee finally acceded to Evans' pleas. Expenditures of
£60,000 Sterling, in addition to whatever amount might be received from the
government of Finland, were approved, £37,500 of it for the Janiskoski hydroelectric project. The program, Stanley cabled Evans, had three objectives:
“One to show the government of Finland our desire and intent to complete and
subsequently operate our project in Finland. Two to furnish maximum
employment but with minimum expenditures for housing and equipment until
political situation is clarified. Three to cooperate with desires and objectives of
UK and Finland governments.”58 In return, the Finnish government was
requested to move back the date by which matte production must commence
by the length of the European war.
Events of late May and early June 1940 quickly overtook this plan. The rapid
fall of Denmark and Norway and the even more astonishing collapse of the
Netherlands, Belgium and France made startlingly apparent the superiority of
the German force of arms. With the diminution of the British presence in the
Baltic region, only two powers of significance remained, Germany and the
Soviet Union, and of the two, Finns feared Germany less.
According to Soderhjelm, Germany first made enquiries about access to the
Petsamo nickel in April, 1940.59 The Finnish government initially rejected
these overtures, but in early June it began to revise its position.60 Soderhjelm,
for example, learned that Finnish authorities interpreted Article 12 of the
Concession Agreement as giving them the right to expropriate the mine, a view
which he vehemently disputed.61 Still, the writing was on the wall, and the
Finnish trade delegation, which included PNO director Hendrik Ramsay, that
travelled to Berlin in the second week of June had few bargaining chips when
presented with a formal demand that control of the Petsamo works be placed in
German hands. To forestall this eventuality, Ramsay suggested that the
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INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
Finnish government might instead be willing to guarantee the sale of Petsamo
ore to I G Farbenindustrie, provided operations remained with PNO.62
Upon receipt of this information, Soderhjelm immediately contacted H.F.A.
Schoenfeld, the American Ambassador in Helsinki, to inquire whether
transferring PNO to American control, presumably INCO, Canada's New
Jersey subsidiary, would circumvent the obvious difficulties in selling to
Germany arising from PNO's British connection. Schoenfeld was noncommittal about the idea, and although Soderhjelm raised it again in early July
with Gordon Vereker, the British Minister in Helsinki, nothing came of it.63
Indeed, INCO officials quite deliberately steered clear of involving the
American government in the Petsamo question from this point onward.64
Two unpalatable alternatives faced INCO, explained Soderhjelm in identical
telegrams to Stanley and Pam on June 17. One was for an INCO-controlled
PNO to operate the works and sell to the Finnish government with a clear
understanding that the output would go to Germany. In this instance, the
company would generate revenue, avoid the danger of destructive, high-grade
mining, and, most importantly, retain ownership of the concession after the
war. If this option was refused, he wrote, the Finnish government was prepared
to take over the concession, in which case not only would INCO lose control of
Petsamo during the war, but it would most certainly have great difficulty in
recovering it afterwards. The Finnish authorities, Ramsay, and, reluctantly,
Soderhjelm himself, all recommended the first option “as most advantageous
which at this moment is attainable.”65
Upon receipt of this telegram on June 20th, Edgar Pam immediately took the
information to the British Ministry of Economic Warfare which that same day
convened a special inter-departmental meeting attended also by Hume Wrong,
First Secretary of the Canadian High Commission.66 The meeting concluded
that INCO must retain possession of the concession at virtually any cost. MEW
was even prepared to “sympathetically consider” financial assistance to INCO
for the construction of a temporary oil smelter at Kolosjoki which would
become redundant when the hydro-electric plant at Janiskoski was
completed.67 Accordingly, also on June 20th, Pam wired Stanley that
“[British] Authorities and ourselves consider Soderhjelm suggestions worthy
of earnest consideration.”68 Two days later, Wrong cabled the Canadian
Minister of External Affairs, Prime Minister Mackenzie King, that the U.K.
government considered the matter so important that it would “not regard any
deliveries [of nickel] to the Finnish Government which may ultimately reach
Germany as breach of Trading with the Enemy Act.”69
On first encounter, this British response appears incredible. Great Britain's
western European allies had just collapsed under the onslaught of the
seemingly unstoppable German juggernaut. The spectre of German attack on,
even invasion of, Great Britain itself loomed large on the horizon. The
country's few remaining allies were the relatively small and militarily
unprepared British Dominions. Prospects of assistance from other major
powers such as the United States or the Soviet Union were dim. And yet in the
midst of all this, British authorities insisted that Mond co-operate with Finland
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IJCS / RIÉC
to deliver such a vital war commodity as nickel to an enemy that desperately
needed it!
Why?
In fact, the objectives of the U.K. government were quite rational, although
highly risky. First and foremost, according to Wrong, the British reasoned that
as long as Petsamo remained in INCO hands, the flow of ore to Germany could
be so controlled that less nickel would actually find its way to the enemy than if
the concession was relinquished. INCO, therefore, would have to agree to
develop the property as slowly as circumstances allowed, and, if possible, to
avoid producing matte entirely.70 At the company's suggestion, it was also
decided that the price charged to Germany should be as high as possible, one
that “will result in rapidly recovering the cost and new capital expenditures
required.”71
Another, and perhaps key, reason for this monumental British gamble was
their control of the seas. Deliveries of the Petsamo ore to either German or
German-controlled smelters in Norway would have to be transported by ship,
and according to Commander Troup representing the Admiralty at the MEW
meeting on June 20th, “given 10 days notice, the Admiralty would be prepared
to sink any ship emerging from Kirkenes or Petsamo, provided Foreign Office
concurrence were obtained.”72 On June 26, Wrong expanded on this point,
explaining that Admiralty success depended upon securing accurate
information about the shipping dates of the ore. Such intelligence gathering, he
implied, was another benefit from continued INCO possession of Petsamo
which would be lost with the concession itself.73
On June 22, Soderhjelm cabled Stanley that Germany had modified its
position. The good news was that it now demanded only 75% of the Petsamo
ore to the end of December 1941, and had dropped the requirement for matte
production. The bad was that it insisted on a “detailed contract to be worked
out directly between Petsamo [sic] Nikkeli seller and I.G.Farbenindustrie
buyer.”74 This INCO found impossible to accept, arguing that it could supply
ore only to Finland, but neither it nor the British government viewed the issue
as one on which negotiations were likely to founder.75 Time was of the
essence, as the company had only until June 25th to agree to terms, otherwise
the Finnish government would hand over the concession to another, unnamed
organization, presumably I G Farbenindustrie.
Sunday, June 23, was a hectic day for INCO management. After reviewing the
latest information, and consulting with Canadian officials in Ottawa, President
Robert Stanley carefully spelled out the conditions under which the company
would comply with Finnish demands. In their order of presentation, these
were: that the British government recommended the program; that otherwise
Finland would hand the concession over to Germany; that it was approved by
the Canadian government; that, on instructions from the Canadian
government, no information on the subject would be publicly released; that
INCO's American and Canadian legal counsels both approved; that it was
formally adopted by the INCO Executive Committee; and that any monies
expended on Petsamo would be transmitted to Finland through the British
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INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
government. As a footnote, Stanley recommended that the U.S. government
not be consulted on the matter.76
The most intriguing aspect of these conditions is that they brought into the
game a player that up to this point had only been an observer, albeit a very
interested one, the government of Canada. As late as June 22, when reporting
developments to Prime Minister King, Hume Wrong had noted that “no action
by the Canadian Government is necessary,” the assumption being that because
PNO was a Mond subsidiary, Petsamo was strictly a British concern.77 The
subject took on a very different complexion on June 23rd when INCO
Secretary, H.S.Wingate, informed Assistant Deputy Minister of External
Affairs, Norman Robertson, that the shares of Petsamon Nikkeli were actually
registered in the name of INCO, Canada.78 Moreover, the British used that fact
to ask Canada to pay half of any costs incurred for the installation of the
temporary smelter at Kolosjoki.79
On Monday, June 24, the British Ministry of Economic Warfare authorized the
British ambassador at Helsinki to inform Finland the following day that “in the
existing circumstances the British Government will not object to the sale of ore
to them by the company for delivery to Germany.” When reporting this
decision to King, Hume Wrong noted that the Ministry had wanted to state in
the communique that the Canadian government concurred, but he had insisted
it say only that “the Canadian Government had been consulted and their
concurrence was probable.”80
The Prime Minister's reaction was curt and to the point. “Our concurrence will
certainly not be given,” he cabled back to London that same day. “Government
very dubious about wisdom of proposed arrangement.”81 King was upset on
various grounds. One was procedural, as was so often the case in his
relationship with the British — witness the Chanak crisis of 1922 when the
British had blithely tried to commit Canada to military action against Turkey
without formal reference to Ottawa, long a sore point with the Canadian Prime
Minister. The British government again seemed about to make commitments
which vitally affected Canadian interests without the full consent of Canadian
authorities. And, indeed, early on June 25, the British response was delivered
to the Finnish government as planned, albeit with Wrong's qualification about
the likelihood of Canada's concurrence attached.82
In this particular instance, responsibility for the confusion over Canada's
position lay with King rather than with the British. In discussions with INCO
officials on June 23, the Department of External Affairs had stressed that
Finland would not be advised of the British decision “until after the British and
Canadian Governments have exchanged assurances of their approval of such a
course.”83 Yet this proviso had not been conveyed to the Canadian High
Commission in London, nor to the British Ministry of Economic Warfare, for
Wrong was clearly taken aback by King's suddenly hostile attitude.84
Undoubtedly contributing to Wrong's surprise was the fact that there was a
very recent precedent for the British plan of action, involving another
Canadian company, Falconbridge Nickel, whose refinery was located at
Kristiansands, Norway. In late September 1939, Norwegian authorities had
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IJCS / RIÉC
informed Falconbridge that Germany demanded a portion of the Kristiansands
product. Falconbridge officials immediately submitted the matter to the
British Ministry of Economic Warfare, which not only authorized the
company to continue operations, but even to refine Canadian ore, provided that
exports to Germany were limited to 600 tons of nickel annually. Here, too, the
rationale was that in this way less nickel would go to the enemy than if
Falconbridge were to withdraw from Norway. King and the Canadian
Department of External Affairs were fully appraised of this arrangement in
November 1939, and had raised no objections to it.85
Perhaps because of the dramatically changed military situation, or perhaps
because it was INCO rather than Falconbridge involved, Petsamo was another
question altogether. On June 25, King finally delineated Canada's reservations
about the British policy. The fact that the shares of PNO had been registered by
Mond in the name of INCO, Canada, plus the “special relationship” between
Mond and INCO, the Prime Minister telegraphed Wrong, “would appear to
involve some measure of Canadian concurrence in proposed arrangements.”
With respect to the proposal itself, he argued that no reduction in the amount of
nickel going to Germany by virtue of INCO's retention of the concession could
possibly be worth the “undoubted damage to public confidence” that would
ensue once the matter came to light, as it surely would. “We feel very strongly
that any...[such] project would be met with scorn and would not be
countenanced by public opinion on any grounds.”86 King, of course, had a
long memory and well recalled the popular outcry in Canada in 1916 over the
Deutschland affair when, in ostensibly more innocuous circumstances and in
amounts considerably less than the 2,400 tons per annum envisaged here,
nickel processed by INCO had found its way from the neutral United States to
Germany by cargo submarine.87 No matter what the mitigating circumstances,
he was now not prepared to let the Canadian government be a party to such
activities.
Officials of International Nickel remembered the Deutschland incident, too,
and no more fondly. Robert Stanley's June 23 list of conditions under which
INCO would continue its Petsamo operations was clearly designed to ensure
that the company could not again be accused of aiding and abetting Germany.
When, therefore, he informed the INCO Executive Committee on June 25th
that one critical condition had not been met, that the Canadian government had
refused to endorse the British program, the company's response was
immediate and decisive:
Counsel and all Directors present expressed their views on the
considerations involved, and, after full discussion, on motion duly
made and unanimously carried, the Secretary was instructed to record
the unanimous opinion of the Committee and of the other Directors
present at the meeting that apart from any other reason in view of the
attitude of the Canadian government the Company should avoid
becoming a party to the delivery of nickel to Germany, even if the
steps taken to avoid such involvement should result in the loss of the
concession in Finland.88
Although relations would obviously have been strained with Canada, Great
Britain could conceivably have pursued the Petsamo option even without the
186
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
Dominion's consent. Without INCO's agreement, it could not, and since that
depended upon King, the British government endeavoured to change the
Canadian Prime Minister's mind. After meeting again with the Ministry of
Economic Warfare on June 26, Wrong despatched a cable to King which
began, “I feel that I may not have made sufficiently clear the dangers arising
from confiscation of Petsamo concession.” Reiterating in detail the arguments
in defence of the plan, he also stressed that its objective was not to preserve
Petsamo for future INCO use, as King had implied in an earlier
communication. The British aims, Wrong emphasized, were solely warrelated.89
King was unmoved. His reply to Wrong cabled June 29 again emphasized that
the “political and psychological effects of concurrence in arrangement...still
seem to us to be very serious and to outweigh economic and military
importance of limiting supply of nickel available to Germany.” In defence of
his position, he also argued that without INCO cooperation it would take
Germany much longer, perhaps up to fifteen months, to produce matte from
the Petsamo ore, the implication being that by then the war might be over.90
For all intents and purposes this marked an end to INCO's control of the
Petsamo concession. Commercial letters of intent with respect to the nickel
were signed between Germany and Finland on June 29. On July 23, the Finnish
government ordered the PNO to produce ore at Petsamo for sale to Germany,
and possibly the Soviet Union, as provided for in Article 12 of the Concession
Agreement.91 That same day, Soderhjelm and Ramsay, acting in direct
contravention of their instructions from INCO, signed on behalf of PNO the
first of a series of nickel ore contracts with I G Farbenindustrie. To fund the
development of Petsamo, I G Farben established a new company, Petsamo
Gemeinschaft, the shares of which were divided between itself (40%), Krupps
(40%) and Metallgesellschaft (20%). Until it was formally put under Finnish
government administration on August 5, 1941, the PNO remained nominally a
Mond subsidiary, but in fact, with the exception of a brief and fruitless visit of
Hendrik Ramsay to London in January 1941, formal communications between
INCO and the PNO ceased as of August 6, 1940.92
Because of the Canadian opposition, British authorities sought other means of
thwarting German access to the Petsamo nickel. In late June, for example, the
Ministry of Economic Warfare explored the possibility of itself taking control
of PNO and selling ore to the U.S.S.R., but “practical difficulties” ruled this
out.93 More importantly, such a step became unnecessary when, on June 28,
the Foreign Office learned that a few days before the Soviet Union had
demanded 50% of the Petsamo production, and that Finland, with Germany's
blessing, was likely to comply with this demand.94 Finnish authorities blamed
Great Britain for the Soviet initiative, and, indeed, on June 20, MEW had
recommended that the British Ambassador to Moscow, Sir Stafford Cripps, be
directed to appraise the Soviets of the German designs on the Petsamo nickel
with the hope that they would intervene.95 These instructions, however, were
not issued until June 27, and in any event had not been acted upon when the
Soviet overture came to light.96
187
IJCS / RIÉC
Whatever its origin, the Soviet intervention delighted the British, and
consequently the latter half of 1940 witnessed the curious situation of the
Soviet Union desperately wanting to get Great Britain out of Petsamo, and of
the British prepared to pay virtually any price to get the Soviet Union in.
Finland, of course, wanted neither. Foreign Officer J.M. Addis summarized
the new British approach on October 31 when he noted that “I think we can
agree with the M.E.W. that if we can succeed in substantially reducing the
amount of nickel which will become available to Germany, it would be worth
while surrendering the future rights of the Canadian Co. to the concession.”97
Accordingly, in late July and again at the end of October, Sir Stafford Cripps
encouraged Soviet officials to press not only for nickel but for control of the
concession itself, at least for the duration of the war.98 In the latter instance, for
example, he was directed to discuss the subject with Soviet authorities, “in
order to exploit, if possible, the divergence of view between Russia and
Germany.” According to Hume Wrong, Great Britain's first preference was
that the concession not be operated. If it was, Cripps was told, the British
“would prefer it to be operated for the benefit of Russia rather than Germany,
and they would not resist a Russian effort to get hold of it so long as the
company's right to compensation was recognized. Any such compensation
would, in their view, be primarily a responsibility of the Finnish
Government.”99
In fact, the British policy had the opposite effect of what was intended, as over
the winter of 1940-1941 its support for the Soviet claim to Petsamo drove
Finland inexorably into the arms of Germany.100 On February 19, 1941, a
nickel matte agreement was signed by Finland and Germany, something the
British had particularly sought to avoid. Germany's declaration of war on the
U.S.S.R. on June 22 brought, with Finnish compliance, German occupation of
the Petsamo region and full control of the nickel properties. The outbreak of
war between Finland and the Soviet Union on June 25th, and then between
Finland and Great Britain and Canada in December 1941, ensured that first ore
from Petsamo and then also, in 1942, nickel matte found its way to
Germany.101
***
Given their willingness to sacrifice INCO's interests in Petsamo in the autumn
of 1940, it was not surprising that Stalin's claim to the Petsamo oblast at the
`Big Three' meeting in Teheran, in late September 1943, met with little
resistance from British authorities. In November, the question of Petsamo's
future was assigned to the Post-Hostilities Planning Committee [P-HPC],
which surveyed key British governmental departments. The nearly unanimous
consensus was that the commercial and financial disadvantages arising from
the Soviet annexation of the Petsamo region would be small, while militarily
there might even be some advantage to having it in Russian hands. Almost as
an afterthought, the P-HPC noted that compensation for INCO must be
claimed from the U.S.S.R., although this was expected to be refused.102 Not
surprisingly, therefore, when Finnish-Soviet armistice negotiations began at
the end of March 1944, the British government recommended to the Canadian
188
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
government, and Prime Minister King agreed, that the Soviet demand to annex
Petsamo not be opposed, provided that INCO was compensated both for
relinquishing the concession and for its investment loss. The Soviets were so
informed at the beginning of April.103
There the matter rested until September 8, 1944, when the Soviet Union
presented a draft proposal of the peace treaty with Finland. Article 7 stated that
compensation to INCO for the loss of Petsamo would be paid by Finland. This
both British officials and King rejected, although it was in fact exactly what the
British themselves had suggested in October 1940.104 On September 13,
Molotov, the Soviet Foreign Minister, informally and secretly proposed to the
British Minister in Moscow that INCO be compensated out of the $300 million
reparations payments which the Soviet Union expected to receive from
Finland. Molotov also mentioned the figure of $20 million as an appropriate
amount, but stressed that this was strictly off the record.105 Why he settled on
this amount is not certain. It is intriguing, however, that in February 1941,
when the U.S.S.R. was negotiating with Finland about acquiring a share of the
Petsamo mines, the Finnish government estimated the deposits' worth at $14
million which, when added to the approximately $6.5 million which INCO
claimed to have invested in the property, came close to the mark.106
The readiness of the Soviets to make the offer, unexpected in British
government circles at least, may have been due to several factors. Most
obviously, the countries immediately involved, the Soviet Union, Great
Britain, Canada, and, by virtue of INCO's American connections, the U.S.,
were allies in a larger conflict yet to be won. Furthermore, as early as October
1940, British authorities had condoned the Soviet annexation of Petsamo
provided adequate compensation was paid. Lastly, the U.S.S.R. may have felt
some obligation to INCO itself. During the later 1930s — as late as October
1939, in fact — and again in 1942-1943, Mond Nickel, with British approval,
had endeavoured to meet the Soviet Union's erratic demands for nickel matte
as best it could.107
On Friday, September 15, Viscount Cranborne, the British Dominions'
Secretary, cabled King that the Soviet offer was now a firm one, that the
maximum compensation would be $20 million, and that Great Britain was
inclined to accept. Was this satisfactory to INCO?108 The Deputy Minister of
External Affairs, Norman Robertson, scrambled during the weekend to
ascertain the company's opinion. INCO Secretary, H.S. Wingate, first
estimated Petsamo's worth at $50 million, but Robert Stanley later revised the
figure downward to $35 million. After meeting personally with Robertson in
Ottawa, however, the two men agreed to accept the lower Soviet offer, but
insisted that the U.S.S.R. be informed that this amount represented a tangible
loss to INCO. Consequently, on October 8, 1944, the Canadian and Soviet
governments signed an agreement which provided compensation to INCO of
$20 million U.S. over a six-year period, ending December 31, 1951, although
the last payment was not actually received until nearly two years later. In
addition, INCO benefitted from Soderhjelm's careful management of the
PNO's affairs during the war, as its balance sheet in the spring of 1945 showed
assets in excess of $4.5 million and liabilities of only about $1 million,
189
IJCS / RIÉC
excluding $2.6 million owed to I G Farbenindustrie.109 For its part, the Soviet
Union acquired not only valuable nickel deposits which continue to produce
forty-five years later, but also the most advanced nickel mining strategies and
technologies of the day.110
Whether the fate of Petsamo would have been any different if Canada and
INCO had gone along with the British proposal to supply ore to Germany is a
matter of conjecture. Conceivably, the British might have been somewhat
more sympathetic to INCO's position had the Canadian government been more
accommodating, but the realities of power being what they were in the autumn
of 1944, it is doubtful whether Great Britain could have prevented the Soviet
annexation of Petsamo had it been inclined to do so. Still, from INCO's point of
view, in June 1940 all this was unknown, and therefore its willingness to
sacrifice any possibility it had to retain the concession was remarkable.
In his address to the INCO, Canada annual meeting on April 25, 1945,
President Robert Stanley described the Soviet compensation as “fair and
equitable,” but added that “in the long run our Company would be better off
with the Petsamo Mine than with the $20,000,000.”111 He was right. In the
decades after World War II, INCO's share of world nickel markets plummeted
to less than 30%. The decline was caused by various factors, but none more
important than the rise of the Soviet Union as a major nickel producer. A
negligible player in the nickel game in 1945, since the mid-1970s the U.S.S.R.
has matched INCO's production levels virtually pound for pound, and a
significant percentage of the Soviet ore comes from Petsamo, now renamed
Pechenga.112 That the foundations of the modern Soviet nickel industry
should have been laid at Petsamo by INCO itself, albeit unwittingly and
unwillingly, was an ironic outcome of the company's readiness to subordinate
its corporate interests to those of Canada in time of war.
Notes
*
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
190
For research assistance, I am indebted to Archivist Ron Orasi and the International Nickel
Company of Canada and to various individuals at the Public Archives of Canada, Ottawa,
and at the British Public Record Office, Kew Gardens, London. I must also acknowledge the
comments and encouragement of the late Dr. Angus Gilbert, my long-time colleague and
research associate at Laurentian University.
This acronym is used for the sake of brevity, although technically `INCO' did not become the
company's legal designation until much later.
John F. Thompson and Norman Beasley, For The Years To Come: A Story of International
Nickel of Canada, Toronto, Longmans, Green and Company, 1960, 253.
O.W. Main, The Canadian Nickel Industry, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 1955,
111.
INCO Archives, Sudbury [hereafter abbreviated as IAS], Box 934-28 Folder #81, J.C.
Nicholls to Paul Merica, October 24, 1933.
ibid. Paul D. Merica to D. Owen Evans, October 16, 1933.
ibid. J.C. Nicholls to P.D. Merica, November 17, 1933.
ibid. D.O. Evans to Edgar Pam, November 11, 1933.
Thompson and Beasley, 254.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. P.D. Merica to J.C. Nicholls, October 4, 1933.
ibid. Nicholls to Merica, November 21, 1933.
ibid. Edgar Pam to New York, cable, December 5, 1933.
ibid. Nicholls to Merica, November 17, 1933.
ibid. Nicholls to Pam, January 18, 1934.
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
ibid. Evans to Merica, June 7, 1934.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #53, Set 2. Agreement, The Republic of Finland and the Mond
Nickel Company, Limited, Dated 22nd June 1934.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. R.C. Stanley to Charles Hayden, August 28, 1934.
H.P. Krosby, Petsamo “In The Spotlight: A Study In Finnish-German Relations, 19401941,” Ph.D. Thesis, Columbia University, 1967, 285.
IAS, Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y., Minute Book 1934-1938, Evans to INCO,
Canada, November 19, 1934.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of the Executive
Committee of INCO, Canada, September 4, 1934; Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y.,
Minute Book 1934-1938. Notes on Meeting on General Programme for 1935, May 13, 1935;
Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of the Executive
Committee of INCO, Canada, June 11, 1935; Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y., Minute
Book, 1934-1938. J.O. Soderhjelm to the Minister of Trade and Industry, August 26, 1936;
Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of Executive Committee of
INCO, Canada, December 23, 1936.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of the Executive Committee of
INCO, Canada, February 16, 1937; Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y., Minute Book,
1934-1938. Pam to Soderhjelm, June 4, 1937.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of the Executive
Committee of INCO, Canada, September 21, 1937.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Stanley to MacAskill, November 22, 1937.
IAS, Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y., Minute Book 1934-1938. Ramsay to Ministry of
Trade and Industry, December 29, 1937. According to the June, 1934 agreement, this
declaration should have brought the period of exploration to a close, but on petition in
October 1938, PNO was permitted to prolong its investigations in other parts of the
concession area to February 1940. See ibid. Soderhjelm to Ministry of Trade and Industry,
October 25, 1938; and reply from Vaino Voionmaa, Minster of Trade and Industry, undated,
circa, November 1, 1938.
ibid. Special Orders Expenditures to December, 1938. Dated January 19, 1939; Box 925-22,
Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of Executive Committee of INCO,
Canada, May 24, 1938.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Stanley to Evans, August 15, 1938.
IAS, Box 933-11. Data Relative to Arrival of Certain Employees of International Nickel's
Finnish Mining Development on S.S. “Bergensfjord.” Undated, circa December 17, 1939.
IAS, Box 938-56, Petsamon Nikkeli O.Y., Minute Book 1934-1938.
Special Orders Expenditures to December 1938. Dated January 19, 1939; Box 925-22,
Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of the Executive Committee of INCO,
Canada, January 17, 1939.
ibid. Excerpt from Minutes of Meeting of the Executive Committee of INCO, Canada, May
23, 1939.
Eugen Autere and Jaakko Liede, Petsamon Nikkeli Taistelu metallista, Helsinki,
Vuorimiesyhdistys — Bergsmannaforeningen r.y., 1989, 298.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #53, Set 2. Agreement, The Republic of Finland and the Mond
Nickel Company, Limited, Dated 22nd June 1934.
ibid. Soderhjelm to Pam, September 4, 1939.
ibid. Pam to Soderhjelm, cable, September 13, 1939.
Great Britain, Public Records Office [hereafter abbreviated as GB,PRO], FO371/23643,
N4397, Soderhjelm to Mond Nickel, September 13, 1939.
ibid., Foreign Office Memorandum, September 15, 1939.
ibid., FO371/23643, N397, Foreign Office to T.M. Snow, Helsinki, September 23, 1939.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #53, Set 2. Pam to Nicholls, cable, September 23, 1939; Box 92708, Folder #26. Evans to Nicholls, cable, September 23, 1939; Stanley to Evans, September
26, 1939; Box 934-28, Folder #81. Stanley to Evans, September 25, 1939.
ibid. Evans to Nicholls, cable, September 23, 1939.
ibid. Petsamon Nikkeli OY Notes on Meeting held on 27 September 1939.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Vainio Voionmaa to J.O. Soderhjelm (translation), October
10, 1939. See also ibid., Pam to Merica, October 2, 1939.
191
IJCS / RIÉC
40. ibid. Soderhjelm to Edgar Pam, October 12 and October 16, 1939.
41. ibid. Pam to Simcox, November 15, 1939.
42. ibid. Simcox to Nicholls, cable, December 2, 1939.
43. IAS, Box 933-11. Data Relative to Arrival of Certain Employees of International Nickel's
Finnish Mining Development on S.S. “Bergensfjord,” undated, circa December 17, 1939.
44. ibid. Simcox Press Release, March 9, 1940.
45. GB, PRO, FO371/23643, N6826, Evans to Collier, November 30, 1939; Collier to Evans,
December 9, 1939.
46. IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #53, Set 2. Agreement, The Republic of Finland and the Mond
Nickel Company, Limited, dated 22 June 1934.
47. Krosby, Petsamo In The Spotlight, 8.
48. IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Soderhjelm to London, April 23, 1940.
49. Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1071-1072, #921,
Memorandum “Nickel” by H.H. Wrong, April 17, 1940.
50. GB, PRO, FO371/29351, N5261, “Report on the Political Negotiations Concerning the
Petsamo Nickel Concession..., Given by J.O. Soderhjelm,” August 26, 1941, 2; Krosby,
Petsamo In The Spotlight, 10, Fn #5, Soderhjelm to Krosby, November 28, 1966.
51. GB,PRO, FO371/24824, N5301, Ministry of Economic Warfare Memorandum,
“Kristiansands and Petsamo,” April 23, 1940; Krosby, Petsamo In The Spotlight, 9-10.
52. Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1071-1972, #921,
Memorandum “Nickel” by H.H. Wrong, April 17, 1940.
53. GB, PRO, FO371/24824, N5301, MEW Memorandum, “Kristiansands and Petsamo,” April
23, 1940.
54. IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Soderhjelm to London, April 23, 1940.
55. ibid. Evans to Soderhjelm, April 25, 1940.
56. ibid. Soderhjelm to London, April 29, 1940.
57. ibid. Evans to Stanley, April 30, 1940.
58. ibid. Stanley to Evans, May 14, 1940. See also IAS, Box 929-21, Folder #65, Excerpt from
Minutes of Meeting of Executive Committee of the International Nickel Company of
Canada, May 14, 1940.
59. GB, PRO, FO371/29351, N5261, “Report on the Political Negotiations...by Soderhjelm,”
August 26, 1941, 3.
60. Krosby, Petsamo in the Spotlight, 24.
61. GB, PRO, FO371/29351, N5261, “Report on the Political Negotiations...by Soderhjelm,”
August 26, 1941, 3.
62. GB, PRO, FO371/29351 N5261, “Report on the Political Negotiations Concerning the
Petsamo Nickel Concern 1/10/1939 — 25/8/1941 And the Activity of the Petsamon Nikkeli
O.Y. 30/11/ 1939 - 15/8/1941, Given by J.O. Soderhjelm,” August 26, 1941.
63. ibid.; GB, PRO, FO371/24824, N5301, Vereker to Foreign Office, July 12, 1940.
64. IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81, “Record of Telephone Conversation with R.C.S. June 23,
1940.” Unsigned but probably prepared by John F. Thompson, the INCO Executive VicePresident.
65. ibid.
66. ibid. Pam to New York, June 20, 1940.
67. PAC, RG25, 2629, file 267-40C, vol.I, Minutes of an Inter-Departmental Meeting of the
Ministry of Economic Warfare, June 20, 1940.
68. IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81, Pam to Stanley, June 20, 1940.
69. Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1072-1073, #922, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 22, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.” See also IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Petsamon Nikkeli.
Memorandum of Status of Finnish Project, June 25, 1940. “For Executive Comm.” This
memorandum gives a day by day account of developments from the INCO perspective,
beginning June 20th, which confirms the details of the Wrong cable.
70. Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1073, #922, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 22, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
71. IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Petsamon Nikkeli. Memorandum of Status of Finnish Project,
June 25, 1940. “For Executive Comm.” 2.
192
INCO's Petsamo Venture, 1933-1945: An Incident in
Canadian, British, Finnish and Soviet Relations
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86.
87.
88.
89.
90.
91.
92.
93.
94.
95.
96.
97.
98.
PAC, RG25, 2629, file 267-40C, vol. I, Minutes of an Inter-Departmental Meeting of the
Ministry of Economic Warfare, June 20, 1940.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1077-1078, #929, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 26, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Soderhjelm to Stanley, cable, via the American Legation in
Helsinki, June 22, 1940.
ibid. John F. Thompson to Evans, cable, June 23, 1940.
ibid. “Record of Telephone Conversation with R.C.S. June 23, 1940.” Unsigned but
probably prepared by John F. Thompson, the INCO Executive Vice-President.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1073, #922, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 22, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
ibid. 1073-1074, #923, Memorandum from Counsellor [N.A.Robertson] to Under-Secretary
of State for External Affairs, June 24, 1940.
PAC, RG25, 2629, File 267-40C, Wrong to O.D.Skelton, June 24, 1940.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1075, #924, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 24, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
ibid. 1075, #925, Secretary of State for External Affairs to High Commissioner in Great
Britain, June 24, 1940.
ibid. 1076, #926, High Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External
Affairs, June 25, 1940. “Following from Wrong.” IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Petsamon
Nikkeli. Memorandum of Status of Finnish Project, June 25, 1940. “For Executive Comm.”
4.
IAS, Box 934-28, Folder #81. Petsamon Nikkeli. Memorandum of Status of Finnish Project,
June 25, 1940. “For Executive Comm.” 4.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1076, #926, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 25, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.” ibid. Second telegram of same date.
PAC, RG25, 2629, file 267-40C, Vol. I, Vincent Massey, Canadian High Commissioner, to
Prime Minister King, Minister of External Affairs, November 20, 1939.
ibid. 1076-1077. #928, Secretary of State for External Affairs to High Commissioner in
Great Britain, June 25, 1940.
Philip Smith, Harvest from the Rock, Toronto, Macmillan of Canada, 1986, 208-211.
IAS, Box 925-22, Folder #50, Set 2. Excerpt from Minutes of a Meeting of the Executive
Committee of the International Nickel Company of Canada, Limited Held on June 25, 1940.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1077-1078, #929, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, June 26, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
ibid. 1078-179, #930, Secretary of State for External Affairs to High Commissioner in Great
Britain, June 29, 1940. “Following for Wrong.”
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1081-1082, #933, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, July 29, 1940.
“Following from Wrong.”
GB, PRO, 371/29351 N5261, Soderhjelm's Report, August 26, 1941.
GB, PRO, FO371/24824, N5301, Foreign Office to Sir Stafford Cripps, June 27, 1940;
Anthony Lincoln, MEW, to Lawrence Collier, July 1, 1940.
PAC, RG25, 2629, 267-40C, MEW Memorandum by Anthony Lincoln, July 1, 1940.
PAC, RG25, 2629, file 267-40C, vol.I, Minutes of an Inter-Departmental Meeting of the
Ministry of Economic Warfare, June 20, 1940.
GB,PRO, FO371/24824, N5301, Foreign Office to Cripps, June 27, 1940; Canada,
Documents, External Relations, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, #932, Wrong to Skelton, July 17,
1940.
GB, PRO, FO371/24824, N6534, J.M. Addis Memorandum, October 31, 1940.
GB, PRO, FO371/24824, N5933, Cripps to Foreign Office, July 23, 1940; N7023, Cripps to
Foreign Office, November 21, 1940.
193
IJCS / RIÉC
99.
100.
101.
102.
103.
104.
105.
106.
107.
108.
109.
110.
111.
112.
194
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1082-1083, #933, High
Commission in Great Britain to Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs, November 19,
1940.
See, for example, Krosby, Petsamo In the Spotlight, passim.
Autere and Liede, Petsamon Nikkeli, 299.
GB, PRO, FO371/43175 N132, “Future of Petsamo,” Post Hostilities Planning Committee
Memorandum, by H.A. Nutting, December 27, 1943.
Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. X, 1944-1945, Part I, 949-950, #766, Dominions
Secretary to Secretary of State for External Affairs, March 28, 1944; GB, PRO,
FO371/43160, N1968, “Finnish-Soviet Peace Negotiations,” Foreign Office Memorandum,
O.G.Sargent, April 1, 1944.
ibid. 956, #774, Extracts from Telegram from Dominions Secretary to Secretary of State for
External Affairs, September 10, 1944; 957, #775, Secretary of State for External Affairs to
Dominions Secretary, September 11, 1944.
ibid. 958, #777, Dominions Secretary to Secretary of State for External Affairs, September
13, 1944.
See Canada, Documents, External Affairs, Vol. 8, 1939-1941, Part II, 1084, #935, High
Commissioner in Great Britain to Secretary of State for External Affairs, February 25, 1941.
For INCO's sales to the U.S.S.R. in 1937, for example, see IAS, Box 927-08, Folder #26,
Evans to Stanley, March 8, 1937, and March 17, 1937. Even after war broke out in 1939,
INCO, with the agreement of the British government, continued to supply nickel to the
Soviet Union on the understanding that none would reach Germany. See James Eayrs, In
Defence of Canada Appeasement and Rearmament, Vol. II, Toronto, University of Toronto
Press, 1965, 164-165.
ibid. 960-961, #781, Dominions Secretary to Secretary of State for External Affairs,
September 15, 1940.
GB,PRO, FO371/43175, N7743, D. Caplan, Office of the British Political Representative in
Finland, to Foreign Office, November 6, 1944.
Thompson and Beasley, For The Years To Come, 244-256.
IAS, Box 933-11. Proceedings of the Annual Meeting of the International Nickel Company
of Canada, Limited, April 25, 1945, 16.
World Metal Statistical Yearbook, 1987, 49; Metal Statistics, 1990-1991, 83rd ed., 113.
André Donneur
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS : de la
rigidité à l'ouverture
Résumé
Le Canada, quoique modéré dans son attitude vis-à-vis de l'URSS durant la
Guerre froide, a manifesté un fort scepticisme à l'égard des réformes de
Gorbatchev et a incité ses alliés à la prudence. Cependant, au cours de l'année
1989, avec le respect croissant de l'URSS pour les droits humains, le Canada a
modifié sa position et s'est ouvert à la coopération avec l'URSS, surtout sur le
plan économique, mais aussi dans le domaine scientifique et technique. Il est
aujourd'hui à la pointe des pays qui oeuvrent pour intégrer la Russie et les
autres pays de la CÉI à la communauté internationale.
Abstract
Albeit Canada's moderate attitude with regard to the USSR during the Cold
War, it manifested strong skepticism towards Gorbatchev's reforms and
always advised its allies to caution. However, in 1989, given the USSR's
growing respect for human rights, Canada modified its position and opened up
to cooperation with the USSR in economic areas as well as in areas of science
and technology. Today, Canada leads the countries working to integrate
Russia and the other CIS in the international community.
Le Canada n'a pas eu de relations continues avec la Russie, puis l'URSS,
comme ce fut le cas pour d'autres pays, tels que la Suède, les Pays-Bas, la
France ou la Turquie1. Les relations, qui ont été nouées avec l'URSS pendant la
Seconde Guerre mondiale, se sont développées pendant la Guerre froide à
l'ombre des différends Est-Ouest.
Les relations pendant la Guerre froide
Depuis 1945, l'attitude du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS a été ambivalente. Le
gouvernement canadien reconnaissait que l'URSS représentait une menace
pour les pays occidentaux, mais il essayait d'éviter toute confrontation. Il était
conscient de la nécessité de dissuader l'URSS par le truchement de l'Alliance
atlantique, mais il pratiquait une politique modérée à son égard. En octobre
1955, Lester B. Pearson fut le premier ministre des Affaires étrangères des
pays de l'OTAN à se rendre à Moscou. Cette visite fut l'occasion de signer un
accord commercial qui incluait un contrat pour la vente de blé à l'URSS. En
renouant ainsi le contact avec l'URSS, le Canada avait une longueur d'avance
sur les États-Unis2. D'autre part, lors des diverses crises provoquées par
l'URSS : invasions de la Hongrie et de la Tchécoslovaquie, Mur de Berlin et
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d'études canadiennes
9, Spring/Printemps 1994
IJCS / RIÉC
crise des missiles, les condamnations canadiennes de l'URSS furent les moins
virulentes des pays de l'OTAN.
À partir de 1963, la détente favorisa une politique canadienne d'ouverture visà-vis de l'URSS. Élaborée par Lester B. Pearson, devenu Premier ministre, elle
fut amplifiée par le gouvernement Trudeau. La visite de ce dernier en URSS,
du 17 au 28 mai 1971, refléta cette volonté du Canada de développer ses
relations avec l'URSS3. Un protocole de consultations entre les deux pays,
portant sur les questions bilatérales et multilatérales, fut signé, ainsi qu'une
entente générale sur des échanges dans les domaines de l'éducation, de la
culture et de la science.
Cependant, cette plus grande souplesse du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS que
celle de la plupart de ses alliés fut remise en question. La réticence de l'URSS à
répondre aux préoccupations canadiennes à l'égard des droits humains causa
un désappointement. La découverte d'espions soviétiques au Canada en 1978
accentua les doutes canadiens. L'invasion de l'Afghanistan (1979),
l'imposition de mesures militaires en Pologne (1981) et l'affaire du Boeing des
Korean Airlines furent des événements supplémentaires qui mirent en cause la
crédibilité de l'URSS. Le premier ministre Clark répondit en 1980 à
l'occupation de l'Afghanistan par le boycott des Jeux olympiques de Moscou et
la restriction des ventes de blé à l'URSS.
Avec le retour de Pierre E. Trudeau au gouvernement en février 1980, la
position canadienne quant à l'invasion soviétique de l'Afghanistan se modifia
toutefois sensiblement. Le Premier ministre tempéra la réaction canadienne
par crainte d'une accentuation de la Guerre froide. Se démarquant de la
politique étrangère du président Reagan, il essaya de relancer les négociations
en matière de désarmement.
Le gouvernement conservateur, qui succéda aux libéraux en 1984, désavoua
l'initiative de paix de Pierre E. Trudeau. La politique extérieure canadienne à
l'égard de l'URSS prit, sous la gouverne de Brian Mulroney, une orientation
proche de la position américaine. Dénonçant la menace soviétique, le Livre
blanc sur la défense de 1987 traduisait une politique de Guerre froide vis-à-vis
de l'URSS. Il constatait que des bombardiers et des sous-marins soviétiques,
porteurs d'armes nucléaires, s'aventuraient dans l'Arctique près des côtes
canadiennes. Pour assurer la sécurité et la souveraineté du Canada, le Livre
blanc recommandait notamment l'acquisition de sous-marins à propulsion
nucléaire. Il insistait sur la nécessité, pour la marine canadienne, de s'équiper
pour contribuer à préserver la liberté du monde occidental contre le péril
communiste.
L'URSS dénonça la rhétorique de Guerre froide du Livre blanc et affirma que
la souveraineté du Canada dans l'Arctique pouvait être assurée par des moyens
pacifiques4.
Un autre sujet de litige entre les deux pays persistait, c'est-à-dire, la question
des droits humains. Les membres soviétiques de 42 familles, qui voulaient se
réunifier, se voyaient refuser l'autorisation d'émigrer au Canada.
198
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
En outre, plusieurs diplomates soviétiques, accusés d'espionnage industriel,
étaient expulsés du Canada au mois de juin 1988. Moscou réagissait en
qualifiant la décision d'Ottawa de « provocation » et en expulsant à son tour
quelques diplomates canadiens. Elle accusait certaines forces à l'intérieur du
Canada de vouloir empêcher l'amélioration du dialogue Est-Ouest5.
Le scepticisme et la rigidité d'Ottawa vis-à-vis des réformes de
Gorbatchev
Malgré les signes d'un changement en URSS, les militaires canadiens
persistèrent à témoigner leur scepticisme à l'égard des réformes introduites par
Gorbatchev. La réaction du général P.D. Manson, chef de l'État-major de la
Défense, est révélatrice. Dans un article de juin 1989 de la revue Canadian
Defence Quarterly, il était d'avis que l'URSS était toujours déterminée à
demeurer une superpuissance. Selon lui, la perestroïka, la glasnost et la
democratisazia devaient être interprétées par rapport à cet objectif. De même,
le nouveau concept soviétique de « niveaux suffisants de défense » était perçu
comme un moyen de libérer des ressources en faveur de la restructuration
économique6.
Les Forces armées canadiennes ne virent pas dans les promesses soviétiques
de coupures dans le budget militaire et de réduction unilatérale de leurs forces
armées (7 décembre 1988) les signes d'une profonde modification de la stratégie
soviétique. Les missiles stratégiques, les bombardiers intercontinentaux et les
missiles balistiques, lancés à partir des sous-marins, restaient encore les
éléments essentiels de l'arsenal soviétique.
Par ailleurs, les efforts soviétiques de négociation en matière de réduction des
armements et de désarmement furent considérés à Ottawa avec scepticisme.
Le gouvernement canadien accueillit avec réserve l'initiative de Mourmansk
de Gorbatchev du 1er octobre 1987 visant à démilitariser l'Arctique et à y créer
une zone de paix. Le ministre de la Défense, Perrin Beatty, et le secrétaire
d'État aux Affaires extérieures, Joe Clark, firent savoir à l'URSS qu'ils ne
discuteraient pas d'une zone de paix dans l'Arctique, à moins d'y inclure la
péninsule de Kola, où il y avait l'une des plus fortes concentrations
d'armements nucléaires soviétiques7.
Pour les Forces armées canadiennes, il était clair que l'URSS, puissance
continentale européenne, souhaitait conserver son avantage stratégique en
Europe. L'URSS cherchait à consolider sa supériorité militaire en compensant
les réductions de ses forces terrestres par le développement de ses forces
aériennes et navales. En même temps, elle essayait de restreindre les capacités
aériennes et le potentiel naval de l'OTAN. Pour les militaires canadiens,
l'insistance de l'URSS à vouloir réduire les armes nucléaires tactiques en
Europe après la signature du traité sur les forces nucléaires de portée
intermédiaire (FNI) témoignait de son intérêt à maintenir la supériorité des
forces conventionnelles du Pacte de Varsovie.
Les intentions que le Canada prêtait aux initiatives soviétiques traduisaient
une appréhension de voir l'équilibre entre les deux alliances se modifier en
faveur de l'URSS. Au cours des négociations sur le désarmement durant l'hiver
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1989, le gouvernement canadien affichait une méfiance marquée à l'égard des
propositions soviétiques. Malgré l'atténuation des tensions Est-Ouest, il
adoptait une attitude prudente à l'égard des négociations sur la réduction des
forces classiques en Europe.
Pourtant, les conditions étaient propices à l'amélioration des relations EstOuest. Le secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures admettait lui-même que les
États-Unis et l'URSS avaient une attitude plus positive l'un envers l'autre. La
conclusion en 1987 du traité sur les FNI avait créé un nouveau climat entre les
deux superpuissances. En décembre 1988, Gorbatchev annonça une réduction
unilatérale des forces conventionnelles soviétiques lors de sa visite aux
Nations-Unies. À la Conférence de Paris sur les armes chimiques, Gorbatchev
faisait, en janvier 1989, la promesse d'éliminer les armes biologiques et
chimiques de son pays. On remarqua aussi la nouvelle approche constructive
de l'URSS à l'égard de l'ONU, dont l'ambassadeur du Canada aux NationsUnies, Yves Fortier, s'était réjoui8. Le retrait des troupes soviétiques
d'Afghanistan, achevé en février 1989, permettait de détendre davantage les
relations entre les deux alliances.
Néanmoins, dans une allocution prononcée le 13 janvier 1989, le secrétaire
d'État aux Affaires extérieures, Joe Clark, s'il saluait l'ouverture du régime
soviétique, affirmait qu'en raison des « leçons de l'histoire », la négociation en
ce qui avait trait aux forces classiques en Europe ne pourrait être fructueuse si
elle affaiblissait l'Alliance atlantique. La prudence était nécessaire et requérait,
aussi bien sur le plan militaire que politique, la continuité dans la défense des
idéaux de paix, de liberté politique et de respect des droits humains9.
Pour le Canada, il ne pouvait donc s'agir, malgré les efforts soviétiques de
désarmement, de renoncer à la stratégie de dissuasion et à sa participation à
l'OTAN. Celle-ci s'était avérée utile tant pour l'Europe que pour l'Amérique du
Nord. Dans une déclaration à l'occasion du 40e anniversaire de la fondation de
l'OTAN, Joe Clark soulignait que l'Alliance atlantique avait aidé à façonner
une ère nouvelle dans les relations Est-Ouest10. Elle avait amené l'URSS sur la
voie des réformes grâce à sa cohésion et la fidélité de ses membres aux valeurs
occidentales. Elle avait permis d'obtenir de l'URSS de véritables engagements
dans les domaines des droits humains, de la coopération économique et de la
sécurité militaire.
Le 16 janvier 1989, le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures annonçait la
participation du Canada à de nouvelles négociations sur les forces
conventionnelles en Europe en souhaitant que ces pourparlers éliminent
définitivement la menace d'une attaque surprise soviétique en Europe11. Par la
suite, Joe Clark salua l'intention soviétique de ramener le nombre de chars
d'assaut, de véhicules blindés de transport de troupes et de systèmes d'artillerie
à égalité avec celui de l'OTAN. Cependant, il ajouta que le Canada n'était pas
favorable à la proposition soviétique d'éliminer les missiles tactiques. Le
Canada, au contraire, était prêt à soutenir la modernisation des forces SNF, car
l'URSS, malgré les réductions qu'elle avait effectuées dans ses armements
nucléaires de théâtre et de courte portée, aurait une nette supériorité par rapport
à l'OTAN12.
200
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
À la réunion de suivi de la Conférence sur la sécurité et la coopération en
Europe (CSCE) à Vienne, Joe Clark soulignait par ailleurs, le 19 janvier 1989,
que les atteintes aux droits humains en URSS constituaient un frein à une
reprise plus rapide des relations avec les pays occidentaux13.
L'approche méfiante du Canada à l'égard des événements en URSS et des
initiatives de Gorbatchev n'échappa pas à l'attention des autorités soviétiques.
En janvier 1989, Alexei Makarov, de l'ambassade soviétique, qualifia de
« vieilles conceptions rouillées » certaines conclusions tirées par Joe Clark14.
Il estimait que le Canada devrait s'impliquer davantage dans l'établissement du
nouveau dialogue international. Il insistait sur le rôle que le Canada pourrait
jouer pour promouvoir, auprès des États-Unis et de ses autres alliés de
l'OTAN, des mesures analogues à celles prises par l'URSS en matière de
réduction des FCE.
L'URSS dénonça également les contradictions canadiennes en matière de
désarmement. Au début de février 1989, elle critiquait la décision canadienne
d'autoriser l'essai de missiles de croisière à technologie avancée, les ACM. La
Pravda accusa le gouvernement canadien de s'être « soumis aux visées
militaristes du Pentagone »15. Selon Igor Lobanov, porte-parole de
l'ambassade soviétique au Canada, cette mesure allait à l'encontre des progrès
réalisés dans le processus de contrôle des armements. Il y voyait là le reflet
d'« une vieille mentalité »16.
La relance des rapports du Canada avec l'URSS
Au mois de mai 1989, le ton à l'égard de l'URSS s'adoucit. Le Premier ministre
et le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures apportèrent leur soutien aux
réformes entreprises par Gorbatchev. Devant le World Affairs Council de
Boston, Brian Mulroney rendit hommage, le 3 mai 1989, au « leadership
innovateur et généreux » dont a fait preuve le secrétaire général Gorbatchev17.
Il estimait que le processus réformateur était la preuve que la « bataille des
valeurs » avait été gagnée par l'Ouest. Cependant, il modérait son optimisme
en évoquant l'éventualité d'une période d'instabilité en URSS. Il ajoutait que ce
pays n'était pas encore devenu une société libre.
Le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures faisait des déclarations qui
allaient dans le même sens que celles du Premier ministre. Le 3 mai 1989,
devant le Canadian Club de Toronto, Joe Clark déclarait que l'URSS avait
amorcé une « révolution à multiples facettes » qui amènerait des élections, une
restructuration de l'économie, une réforme du système juridique et de
nouvelles attitudes en politique étrangère. Joe Clark voyait dans l'autorisation
soviétique donnée au couple Rabinovitch et à leurs deux enfants de rejoindre
les membres de leur famille, installés au Canada, la preuve de la nouvelle
approche soviétique fondée sur la flexibilité et le compromis. Il était
favorablement impressionné que Gorbatchev eût lui-même reconnu que la
réforme économique ne pouvait être menée sans réforme politique18.
Néanmoins, le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures rappelait que,
parallèlement à ses encouragements aux réformes soviétiques, le Canada
devait continuer à combiner ses efforts dans la défense et la promotion du
dialogue Est-Ouest. Il affirmait aussi que le Canada partageait avec l'URSS
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certains traits : la nordicité, une économie à base de ressources naturelles et le
multiculturalisme.
Le Canada se redécouvrait ainsi avec son voisin subpolaire des « affinités
géographiques et climatiques prédisposant à une coopération accrue dans les
domaines des sciences de l'environnement et de mise en valeur des
ressources »19. Dans la perspective d'exploiter ce potentiel, le Premier ministre
et le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures décidèrent de se rendre en URSS
à l'automne, accompagnés d'une délégation de chefs d'entreprises. Cette visite
officielle, avec pour objectif de faciliter la coopération économique,
industrielle, scientifique et technique entre les deux pays, devait aussi mettre
fin à la diplomatie canadienne de Guerre froide.
Le réchauffement des relations Est-Ouest a ainsi donné la possibilité au
Canada et à l'URSS de développer leur collaboration dans l'Arctique à la fois
sur les plans bilatéral et multilatéral. En effet, durant le voyage du Premier
ministre canadien en URSS au mois de novembre 1989, une série d'accords
bilatéraux de coopération furent signés. En outre, la création, en août 1990, du
International Arctic Science Committee (IASCO), composé des huit nations
circumpolaires, représentait un pas important dans la promotion de la
coopération scientifique dans la région20.
Par ailleurs, le dégel des relations canado-soviétiques se traduisit par la reprise
des contacts militaires entre les deux pays. Le ministère de la Défense remit ses
pendules à l'heure et assouplit sa position rigide à l'égard de l'URSS. Le 7 mars
1989, dans son discours prononcé à Vienne à l'ouverture des négociations sur
le contrôle des forces conventionnelles en Europe, la Ministre associée à la
Défense reconnut que la stratégie soviétique avait changé. Mary Collins
indiqua que « les dirigeants soviétiques et leurs partenaires du Traité de
Varsovie épousent maintenant le concept de suffisance raisonnable dans la
doctrine militaire, ce qui suggère une tendance vers une position plus
défensive »21. Le colonel B.A. Goetze, directeur de la Politique internationale
au quartier général de la Défense, a d'ailleurs souligné, dans la revue Canadian
Defence Quarterly, « le désir soviétique de communiquer la sincérité de leur
engagement à restructurer les Forces armées », en se conformant à la doctrine
militaire réorientée vers la défense par Gorbatchev22.
Dans cette perspective d'améliorer les échanges militaires, le ministre de la
Défense nationale, Perrin Beatty, invita les autorités militaires soviétiques à
visiter, au mois de juillet 1989, le Centre de recherches pour la défense de
Suffield, en Alberta. Le ministre souhaitait organiser des entretiens de haut
niveau entre les États-majors canadien et soviétique23.
Une délégation d'officiers canadiens se rendit en URSS du 20 au 26 octobre
1989 pour discuter des doctrines militaires, du contrôle des armements et du
désarmement, ainsi que de la création d'un programme d'échanges militaires.
Cet accord fut signé lors du voyage de Brian Mulroney en URSS en novembre
1989. Selon le lieutenant David Huddleston, qui dirigea cette délégation, les
militaires canadiens « ont pu constater le sérieux des officiers soviétiques et
leur volonté de présenter leur pays comme un ami et non comme un ennemi des
pays occidentaux ». Toutefois, il admettait qu'il était difficile de savoir
202
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
actuellement si l'URSS réduisait vraiment ses armements ou si elle ne faisait
que moderniser ses forces pour les rendre plus efficaces24.
Néanmoins, cette mission militaire eut, pour les relations canado-soviétiques,
une signification historique en créant un climat de confiance favorable au
dialogue entre les militaires des deux pays. La reprise des visites portuaires
réciproques, que le Ministre canadien de la Défense nationale avait assujettie
en janvier 1989 au retrait des troupes soviétiques d'Afghanistan25, se
concrétisa dans cette atmosphère plus détendue. La visite de l'escadre
canadienne, du 3 au 7 juin 1990, du port de Vladivostock, qui avait toujours été
une ville inaccessible aux étrangers, donna la preuve de ce nouvel effort pour
fonder les relations bilatérales canado-soviétiques sur la confiance et non plus
sur la méfiance26.
Les relations économiques bilatérales : de nouveaux développements
Dans le nouveau contexte de réchauffement des relations entre l'Est et l'Ouest,
le Canada a fait également un effort particulier pour développer ses relations
économiques avec l'URSS. Celles-ci étaient avant tout commerciales et
constituées principalement par les exportations de céréales canadiennes
(environ 80 p. 100 des transactions commerciales)27. Jusqu'alors, les contrats
commerciaux entre les deux pays avaient souffert de l'antagonisme Est-Ouest,
même si, à la différence des États-Unis, le Canada se fût évertué à ne pas mêler
affaires et politique28.
En outre, la balance commerciale a toujours été favorable au Canada. Malgré
les sanctions imposées en 1980 à l'URSS par le gouvernement conservateur de
Joe Clark, suite à l'invasion soviétique de l'Afghanistan, les exportations
canadiennes vers l'URSS ont toujours été supérieures à celles de l'URSS vers
le Canada29. L'URSS reçut principalement du Canada des céréales (soit un
quart des exportations canadiennes de céréales dans les années 1980). Par
l'accord céréalier, signé entre le Canada et l'URSS, le 2 octobre 1986, l'URSS
s'était engagée à acheter au moins 25 millions de tonnes de céréales du Canada
au cours des cinq prochaines années, soit une valeur d'au moins $3.75
milliards30.
La visite en URSS de Brian Mulroney et de Joe Clark, accompagnés d'une
délégation d'hommes d'affaires, au mois de novembre 1989, a eu notamment
pour objectif d'aplanir les difficultés en matière d'échanges commerciaux.
Cette mission commerciale a en fait permis d'ouvrir des horizons nouveaux
dans les relations économiques entre les deux pays. Elle a plus précisément
contribué à faciliter les démarches des entreprises canadiennes intéressées à
faire des affaires en URSS31.
Parmi les initiatives prises lors de cette visite, la signature de plusieurs accords
bilatéraux ainsi que le programme de création d'entreprises mixtes devaient
favoriser l'amélioration de ces relations bilatérales. Deux ententes revêtaient
notamment un intérêt pour l'avenir : un accord exhaustif de protection
réciproque des investissements et un accord-cadre qui autorisait les provinces
canadiennes et les républiques soviétiques à coopérer directement entre elles
dans les domaines économique, scientifique, technique et culturel.
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IJCS / RIÉC
Outre les projets canadiens d'envergure, tels que la construction d'une tour à
bureaux à Moscou et d'un vaste complexe commercial et récréatif à Leningrad,
plusieurs entreprises mixtes ont été mises en place, de l'industrie alimentaire
aux systèmes de télécommunication. L'ouverture d'un MacDonald à Moscou a
notamment attiré l'attention internationale32.
La création d'un Conseil commercial Canada-URSS, qui a vu le jour
officiellement le 20 novembre 1989, témoignait également de l'intérêt du
gouvernement canadien à accroître les liens économiques avec l'URSS33.
Cette structure, appuyée à la fois par le président du Conseil soviétique,
Nikolaï Ryzkhov, et le premier ministre canadien, Brian Mulroney, devait
permettre de poursuivre les contrats entre les hommes d'affaires des deux pays.
Durant son court séjour au Canada, les 29 et 30 mai 1990, Gorbatchev a insisté
sur l'importance de cet instrument économique34. À cette occasion, la Société
d'expansion des exportations et la Vneskekonourbank ont signé un accord
visant à accorder une marge de crédit de 500 millions de dollars aux firmes
impliquées dans le commerce Canada-URSS35.
Le voyage en URSS du secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, Joe Clark, au
mois de novembre 1990, a confirmé les efforts du Canada pour développer les
affaires avec l'URSS. À son retour, Joe Clark a ainsi annoncé une série de
mesures destinées à affirmer cette nouvelle orientation36. Il a déclaré que le
Canada était prêt à négocier un traité officiel qui tracerait les bases juridiques
d'une plus grande coopération. Il a également ajouté que le gouvernement
canadien était prêt à négocier un nouvel accord commercial beaucoup moins
restrictif que l'actuel, datant de 1956.
Par ailleurs, le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures a proposé les services
du Canada en matière de formation en gestion, de privatisation, de statistiques
et de réforme de la réglementation. L'aide canadienne dans la mise sur pied
d'institutions économiques a été aussi offerte. Enfin, Joe Clark a mentionné
que le Canada envisageait de consentir à l'URSS, touchée par de sérieuses
pénuries alimentaires, une facilité de crédit de 150 millions de dollars. Cette
nouvelle marge de crédit, qui devait lui permettre d'acheter des produits
alimentaires, s'ajoutait aux 850 millions du crédit consenti dans le cadre de
l'accord sur le blé.
En outre, l'ouverture d'un consulat à Kiev37 et l'organisation de missions
commerciales, annoncées par le ministre du Commerce extérieur, John
Crosbie en février 1990, devaient aider les exportateurs et investisseurs
canadiens.
Toutes ces démarches avaient pour but de contribuer à l'essor des affaires entre
le Canada et l'URSS. Il existait, néanmoins, des obstacles à un tel scénario.
John Crosbie a lui-même prévenu les entreprises « des possibilités et des
risques » que présentait l'évolution de la situation intérieure soviétique. Celleci était précaire, et les problèmes nombreux pouvaient compromettre les
progrès déjà réalisés au niveau commercial.
En raison des difficultés inhérentes au système économique soviétique, les
investissements directs, de l'avis de John Crosbie, devaient être considérés
comme des projets à long terme38. Pour le Ministre du Commerce extérieur, il
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de la rigidité à l'ouverture
s'agissait plus d'un moyen de se positionner pour l'avenir par rapport aux
entreprises occidentales concurrentes, qui avaient déjà une bonne longueur
d'avance. Il fallait envisager les affaires en URSS sous forme de coentreprises
et de réinvestissements. En effet, comme le déclarait Joe Clark, si l'URSS avait
mis une croix sur la philosophie de Karl Marx, elle ne préconisait certes pas
encore les principes d'Adam Smith39. La rareté des devises fortes, l'usage
circonspect du crédit et la non convertibilité du rouble étaient des contraintes
qui se posaient aux entreprises canadiennes. Jusqu'alors, Gorbatchev avait
promis d'adopter des mesures en faveur de la convertibilité, mais aucune date
n'avait été fixée. Les profits des sociétés canadiennes en URSS devaient être
par conséquent réinvestis dans l'économie soviétique. Par ailleurs, les
investisseurs étrangers devaient faire face à des tensions entre le
gouvernement central et les républiques, ce qui compliquait leurs
transactions40.
Malgré ces contraintes, les changements survenus en URSS offraient, selon
Crosbie, l'occasion de rétablir l'équilibre des échanges commerciaux entre le
Canada et l'URSS. Mais, de l'avis des hommes d'affaires canadiens, le
rétablissement de l'équilibre dans la balance commerciale n'était pas pour
demain. « Avant de réaliser des transformations radicales dans l'ensemble du
système économique en URSS, les Soviétiques auront beaucoup de difficultés
pour s'assurer une large présence sur le marché canadien41 ». En dépit des
progrès réalisés en matière de relations économiques bilatérales, de grandes
incertitudes pesaient sur la situation soviétique, modérant de prudence
l'enthousiasme des hommes d'affaires canadiens.
La fin de la Guerre froide et les relations canado-soviétiques
Les changements au niveau du système international en 1990 ont conduit
l'URSS et le Canada à un rapprochement sans précédent. La fin de
l'antagonisme Est-Ouest a ouvert de nouvelles perspectives pour le
développement des relations canado-soviétiques. L'amitié offerte à l'URSS
lors de la réunion des ministres des Affaires étrangères de l'OTAN à Turnberry
(7-8 juillet 1990), la proclamation officielle de la fin de la confrontation EstOuest par le Sommet de Londres de l'Alliance atlantique (juillet 1990), le traité
sur les Forces conventionnelles en Europe signé le 19 novembre 1990 et
l'unification allemande (3 octobre 1990) étaient autant de marques tangibles
qui pavaient la voie au rapprochement canado-soviétique.
D'autre part, la perspective du marché unifié de l'Europe occidentale à la fin de
1992 était une variable que le Canada et l'URSS prenaient, tous deux, très
sérieusement en considération. Une fonctionnaire canadienne déclarait au
New York Times : « les Soviétiques ont peur d'être coupés de l'Europe, et nous
avons le même problème42 ». Joe Clark, dans un discours au College Humber,
soulignait, le 26 mai 1990, que le maintien des liens avec le continent européen
constituait un défi43. De son côté, Mikhaïl Gorbatchev attachait également une
grande importance à la « Maison commune européenne ».
C'est dans ce contexte de bouleversements politico-stratégiques que le premier
ministre canadien, Brian Mulroney, et le président soviétique, Mikhaïl
Gorbatchev, s'entretenaient de la situation en Europe, durant la brève visite de
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ce dernier au Canada les 29 et 30 mai 1990. Contrairement à la rencontre de
novembre 1989 centrée sur les relations bilatérales, ils portèrent leur attention
sur les affaires internationales telles que la réunification allemande. Du point
de vue soviétique, la position du Canada et de l'URSS sur cette question était
« proche et coïncidait sur plusieurs point »44.
Par ailleurs, le Canada faisait des efforts pour institutionnaliser le dialogue
entre l'OTAN et l'URSS. Dans cette perspective, Joe Clark recommandait :
• « d'inviter le ministre soviétique des Affaires étrangères à
rencontrer, sur une base régulière, ses vis-à-vis de l'OTAN;
• d'abandonner la défense avancée rigide, pour favoriser des unités
mobiles au sein des forces multinationales »45.
Le Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures signalait aussi l'intérêt commun
au Canada et à l'URSS de renforcer le cadre de la CSCE comme instrument
préféré du dialogue Est-Ouest, étant donné que l'URSS ne participait pas à
l'OTAN : « Nos deux nations sont aux extrémités de la nouvelle Europe qui est
en train d'émerger. Nous avons un intérêt spécial et un intérêt commun à
développer de solides institutions qui définissent et unissent une Europe
immense s'étendant de Vladivostok à l'île de Vancouver46 ».
Comme Joe Clark le répétait en novembre 1990, le défi pour l'avenir serait
désormais de construire ensemble une Europe stable et prospère, dont le
Canada et l'URSS seraient membres à part entière. Dans un contexte
international où les vieilles structures de sécurité s'effondraient, il était
important que le Canada et l'URSS s'entendissent pour mettre en place des
structures de substitution assurant la sécurité du continent européen et la
stabilité du système international. « Nous sommes des alliés. Nous voulons
bâtir ensemble un monde axé sur la sécurité et la prospérité dont nous tirerons
profit47 ».
Devant l'enjeu des nouvelles réalités européennes, Ottawa a attaché une
grande importance à ce que la transition de l'URSS vers la démocratie et
l'économie de marché soit un succès. Selon Joe Clark, il était dans l'intérêt de
l'Ouest de voir se réaliser les réformes de l'Est48. Dans cette perspective, Brian
Mulroney avait annoncé, lors de sa visite en URSS au mois de novembre 1989,
que le Canada soutiendrait l'URSS dans ses efforts d'intégration au système
économique mondial.
Pourtant, peu de temps auparavant, le gouvernement canadien était réticent à la
participation pleine et entière de ce pays à l'économie mondiale. En effet, à
l'occasion du Sommet des Sept de Paris (14-15 juillet 1989), Brian Mulroney
qualifiait de « constructive », sur le plan politique, la lettre adressée par
Gorbatchev au président du Sommet, François Mitterrand. Dans cette lettre, le
président soviétique lançait un appel à un « partenariat universel » entre l'Est et
l'Ouest sur les grandes questions politico-économiques. Mulroney exprima,
cependant, des doutes sur la possibilité que « Moscou vienne à moyen terme
s'asseoir à la même table que les Sept » 49.
C'est néanmoins avec un nouvel esprit que le Canada considéra, dès l'automne
1989, la proposition soviétique. À la réunion de l'Assemblée générale de
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de la rigidité à l'ouverture
l'ONU à New York en septembre 1989, Joe Clark demanda aux nations
occidentales de trouver les moyens d'encourager « les brises de changement
rafraîchissantes » qui soufflent sur l'URSS50. Pour le Canada, il s'agissait
d'accélérer l'intégration de l'URSS au système international.
Lors de son voyage en URSS au mois de novembre 1989, Brian Mulroney
avait déclaré que le Canada était prêt à étudier la possibilité d'offrir à l'URSS
un statut d'observateur au GATT. Le Premier ministre s'était également
prononcé en faveur d'une coopération entre l'URSS et l'Organisation de
coopération et de développement économique (OCDE). Il avait ajouté qu'il
proposerait à ses collègues du Groupe des Sept pays industrialisés que le
président de chaque Sommet annuel tienne l'URSS au courant de leurs
discussions politico- économiques. « Un échange d'idées et de stratégies à
l'échelon élevé pourrait être extrêmement bénéfique »51. Par la suite, le
Canada a aussi signalé qu'il essayerait d'assouplir les règles du COCOM52.
Outre les accords bilatéraux signés en novembre 1989, le gouvernement
canadien a choisi de mettre en place un cadre multilatéral adéquat au
développement de l'URSS53. Il s'agissait de conjuguer les efforts canadiens
avec ceux d'autres pays au sein des grandes organisations telles que l'OECD, le
GATT, la Banque mondiale et le FMI. Comme le soulignait, le 10 avril 1990, le
ministre du Commerce extérieur, John Crosbie, dans le cadre de la réunion de
la CSCE sur les questions économiques à Bonn (19 mars — 11 avril 1990), il
était important de « faire tout notre possible pour réduire les perturbations et
faciliter la transition. Voilà pourquoi le Canada (...) participe de près aux
négociations en cours visant à établir la Banque pour la reconstruction et le
développement de l'Europe »54.
Pour Brian Mulroney, le soutien du Canada à l'intégration de l'URSS à
l'économie mondiale était toutefois conditionnel à la poursuite des réformes
entreprises par Mikhaïl Gorbatchev. Dès novembre 1989, il l'avait déclaré
clairement : « Nous sommes d'accord pour que l'URSS s'intègre
progressivement dans le système international des échanges et des paiements,
à mesure que les réformes de la perestroïka créeront les conditions nécessaires
au succès de cette entreprise »55. Le Premier ministre était conscient que les
progrès réalisés au niveau des relations biltérales risquaient d'être minés par
l'incertaine concrétisation de la glasnost et de la perestroïka. En outre, les
tensions ethniques et nationalistes en URSS pesaient lourdement sur les
rapports avec l'URSS.
Dès le mois de septembre 1989, le secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures,
Joe Clark, avait exprimé aux Nations-Unies ses craintes au sujet de l'explosion
des nationalités en URSS56. Il avait mentionné que, avec les changements
encourageant l'ouverture et la dissidence pacifique, l'autorité de Gorbatchev
ne pouvait que diminuer. Il ajoutait qu'il ne voulait pas minimiser les désirs de
plus grande autonomie des républiques soviétiques, mais qu'il souhaitait que
les conflits ethniques croissants ne mettent pas en danger le programme de
Gorbatchev.
La crise des républiques baltes a particulièrement soulevé les inquiétudes du
Canada. Partagée entre la préoccupation d'éviter toute confrontation avec
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Moscou et le devoir de soutenir ces pays dans leurs revendications, Ottawa a
opté pour une attitude empreinte de prudence à l'égard de l'URSS. Le Canada a
essentiellement averti les dirigeants soviétiques de faire preuve de modération
dans le conflit opposant le gouvernement central et les mouvements
nationalistes baltes57. À cette occasion, le gouvernement canadien a rappelé
qu'il refusait de reconnaître la légitimité de l'annexion des pays baltes en 1940
par l'URSS. Néanmoins, aucun acte n'a été accompli pour appuyer les peuples
baltes dans leurs revendications nationalistes.
En réaction au blocus économique imposé par Moscou, suite à la déclaration
d'indépendance de la Lituanie (11 mars 1990), le Parlement canadien n'a
demandé aucune sanction contre l'URSS. La réaction canadienne s'est limitée
à l'adoption d'une simple résolution « reconnaissant le droit légitime du
peuple lituanien, exprimé par ses élus le 11 mars, de déclarer l'indépendance de
la République de Lituanie ». Lorsque la première ministre de Lituanie,
Kasimira Pronskenie, s'est rendue au Canada (30 avril et 1er mai 1990) pour
chercher appui en vue de faire reconnaître l'indépendance du pays, c'est à titre
non officiel que Joe Clark l'a reçue. Dans une position délicate aussi bien vis-àvis du gouvernement soviétique que de la délégation lituanienne, le Secrétaire
d'État aux Affaires extérieures a surtout insisté pour qu'un règlement négocié
de ce conflit se fasse dans un cadre multilatéral.
Néanmoins, au cours des tensions accrues entre les pays baltes et le
gouvernement soviétique (hiver 1991), le gouvernement canadien a condamné
l'usage brutal de la force militaire soviétique contre la population et les
gouvernements démocratiquement élus de Lituanie et de Lettonie. Dans sa
lettre du 13 janvier 1991, adressée au président Gorbatchev suite aux
événements tragiques de Vilnius (nuit du 12 au 13 janvier 1991), Mulroney a
également annoncé que le Canada allait suspendre ses offres d'aide technique à
l'URSS et les nouvelles marges de crédit pour l'achat de produits alimentaires.
Le Sommet de Londres et l'aide occidentale à l'URSS : le point de vue
canadien
La question de l'aide à l'URSS a été, au Sommet de Londres (juillet 1991),
l'objet de divergences entre les Sept nations industrialisées. Si la République
fédérale d'Allemagne (RFA), la France et l'Italie étaient favorables à un
soutien financier à l'URSS, les États-Unis, le Japon, le Canada et le RoyaumeUni étaient plutôt réticents à octroyer une aide directe à l'URSS. Ces derniers
pays étaient incertains de l'évolution politico-économique de l'URSS et
voulaient donc limiter leur aide à une assistance essentiellement technique.
Comme l'a déclaré le premier ministre canadien Brian Mulroney, il ne fallait
pas s'attendre, au Sommet des Sept, à voir des « miracles ou des chèques en
blanc »58.
Il est certain qu'à la différence de l'aide allemande sans conditions, les ÉtatsUnis, le Japon, le Canada et le Royaume-Uni souhaitaient principalement
obtenir des garanties sur les réformes soviétiques en cours.
Lorsque le premier ministre britannique John Major et son homologue
canadien Brian Mulroney avaient rencontré Gorbatchev avant le Sommet, ils
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de la rigidité à l'ouverture
avaient soulevé quelques questions assez embarassantes, destinées à clarifier
le plan de transformation économique présenté par Moscou. Pour Barbara
McDougall, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, il était naturel que le
Canada et d'autres pays du Sommet veuillent s'assurer que ce plan de réformes
soit réaliste : « Nous ne lui [Gorbatchev] demandons pas de passer une sorte
d'examen ici. Il n'est pas question de réussite ou d'échec. Mais nous croyons
qu'il doit être réaliste sur ce que nous pouvons faire et nous devons être
réalistes au sujet de ce qui peut aider ».
Brian Mulroney s'est étonné que, dans un pays en crise économique,
Gorbatchev persistait à dépenser énormément pour les questions militaires au
lieu d'investir davantage dans la restructuration de l'économie et la production
de biens de consommation59.
Malgré les divergences sur la question de l'aide financière à l'URSS, les leaders
se sont mis toutefois d'accord pour trouver des moyens de coopérer avec
Gorbatchev. Le plan d'aide prévoyait :
• un lien entre l'URSS et les institutions internationales de Bretton
Woods, le FMI et la Banque mondiale, qui lui donnerait accès aux
experts et conseillers en matière financière de l'une et de l'autre,
mais non aux prêts qu'elles offrent;
• l'intensification des efforts des organismes internationaux tels que
la Banque européenne de reconstruction et de développement
(BERD) et l'OCDE pour apporter conseils et expertises à l'URSS;
la proposition de lever le plafond des prêts que la BERD pouvait
accorder à l'URSS a eu le soutien des quatre pays européens du G7
et du Canada, mais fut bloquée par le Japon et les États-Unis;
• l'assistance technique des Sept dans les domaines de l'énergie, de
la conversion des industries militaires en industries civiles, de la
mise sur pied de réseaux de distribution alimentaire, de la sécurité
nucléaire et des transports;
• l'ouverture des marchés des Sept aux produits soviétiques et la
multiplication des contacts au niveau ministériel, des visites de
leurs ministres des Finances ainsi que des petites et moyennes
entreprises.
La tentative de coup d'État contre Gorbatchev : la réaction canadienne
En réaction à la tentative de coup d'État entreprise par les forces conservatrices
pour renverser le président Gorbatchev, le premier ministre Brian Mulroney a
fait savoir, le 19 août 1991, que le Canada ne reconnaissait pas la légitimité du
prétendu nouveau gouvernement soviétique.
Le Premier ministre a déclaré que « le renversement du président soviétique M.
Mikhaïl Gorbatchev par des éléments conservateurs était un jour sombre pour
la démocratie » et que cela pourrait avoir de graves conséquences pour la paix
mondiale, plus particulièrement au Moyen-Orient et en Europe. Des garanties
quant à la santé et la sécurité du président soviétique et de son épouse ont été
exigées.
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Brian Mulroney a également annoncé la suspension du programme d'aide à
l'URSS (130 millions $US pour l'achat de produits alimentaires et 21,8
millions accordés au Sommet du G7 de Londres pour l'assistance technique).
Toutefois, l'entente du secteur privé pour l'exploration pétrolière de l'Arctique
soviétique n'a pas été remise en question, a déclaré un porte-parole de Gulf
Canada Resources de Calgary60.
Les négociations soviéto-canadiennes pour renouveler l'accord des céréales à
son expiration à la fin de juillet ont été interrompues61. Grâce à ce contrat d'une
durée de cinq ans, 25 millions de tonnes de céréales ont été livrées à l'URSS à
un prix moyen de $150 la tonne; ce qui correspond à un montant de $750
millions en moyenne par an.
Ces mesures sont allées dans le sens de la réaction occidentale générale.
En condamnant le coup d'État et en suspendant son aide à l'URSS, le
gouvernement canadien a donc rejoint l'ensemble de la communauté
occidentale. Cependant, la déclaration ambiguë, le lendemain, de la secrétaire
d'État aux Affaires extérieures, Barbara McDougall, se trouva en dissonance
avec l'opinion internationale.
Après une rencontre avec le chargé d'affaires canadien, Barbara McDougall
déclara qu'elle n'interviendrait pas dans les affaires intérieures de l'URSS.
Ainsi, elle se distançait de la Communauté européenne qui condamnait
« fortement le départ de M. Gorbatchev de son poste et la prise du pouvoir par
le “Comité d'État pour une situation d'urgence” comme un acte clairement
inconstitutionnel et une violation flagrante des obligations de l'Union
soviétique à l'Acte final d'Helsinki et à la Charte de Paris »62.
La Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures estimait qu'il appartenait aux
citoyens de l'URSS de « décider de leur avenir63 », à savoir si le coup d'État
était ou non un fait accompli. Elle n'insista donc pas sur le retour du président
destitué. Mais c'est surtout en annonçant que le Canada ne soutiendrait pas
ouvertement les efforts du président russe que Barbara McDougall se
démarqua du soutien américain et européen à Boris Eltsine dans cette période
de crise : M. Eltsine « a fait preuve de courage en incitant les Russes à résister
aux militaires soviétiques. Mais ce n'est pas le rôle du gouvernement canadien
d'encourager ouvertement la résistance ».
Aux yeux du Canada, c'était le maintien des réformes économiques et
démocratiques qui importait. Barbara McDougall concédait que la sécurité de
Mikhaïl Gorbatchev était préoccupante. « Mais ce sont plus sur les principes
qu'il a épousés que sur son rétablissement au pouvoir, qu'Ottawa met
l'accent64», a-t-elle précisé. Aussi, le gouvernement canadien est-il
essentiellement préoccupé à éviter une détérioration de la situation en URSS.
En raison de leur ambiguïté et du ton de sa voix prêtant à l'incertitude, les
remarques de Barbara McDougall furent vivement critiquées65. Le chef de
l'opposition, Jean Chrétien, mit en cause la position « tiède » du Canada. À son
avis, Barbara McDougall avait implicitement secouru les putschistes66. Il s'en
prit aussi à l'opinion de Brian Mulroney selon laquelle l'éviction de Mikhaïl
Gorbatchev était inévitable en raison du rythme de la réforme et du chaos
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économique qui règnait en URSS. Jean Chrétien ajoutait qu'« il aurait été
beaucoup plus facile à M. Gorbatchev de survivre », si les pays réunis au
Sommet de Londres en juillet 1991 s'étaient montrés « un peu plus généreux ».
Néanmoins, le lendemain, Barbara McDougall faisait chorus avec ses
collègues ministres des Affaires étrangères de l'OTAN réunis d'urgence à
Bruxelles le 21 août. La Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures y déclarait
être d'accord avec la condamnation par l'OTAN du coup d'État et avec
l'insistance générale pour que Mikhaïl Gorbatchev revînt au pouvoir67.
Après l'échec du coup d'État et le retour de Mikhaïl Gorbatchev à Moscou dans
la nuit du mercredi 21 août, Mulroney allait faire l'éloge du président de la
République russe, Boris Eltsine : « Une grande part du crédit pour cette fin
heureuse revient au leadership extraordinaire du président. Il s'est tenu haut et
fort devant l'intimidation et les menaces. Il a pris position pour la défense des
principes démocratiques et s'y est tenu avec courage et habileté ». Le Premier
ministre constatait également qu'on pouvait tirer une leçon de cette défaite
majeure des forces réactionnaires en URSS : « La première est qu'on ne doit
jamais sous-estimer le pouvoir de la démocratie »68. Pour Mulroney, il était
certain que le rythme des réformes en serait nettement accéléré et que « les
choix à faire deviendront clairs » pour Gorbatchev69.
Brian Mulroney félicita la population pour son courage et précisa que l'aide
canadienne et les négociations en matière de céréales70 reprendraient bientôt.
Il ajoutait qu'il était peu pertinent de prétendre qu'une aide financière
occidentale plus substantielle aurait permis d'éviter le putsch conservateur.
Mulroney conservait l'opinion que c'était au peuple soviétique de mettre en
place un système économique et politique adéquat. Toutefois, il admettait
qu'après la victoire des forces en faveur de la démocratisation, l'Occident serait
plus sensible aux requêtes de Gorbatchev71. Mais Mulroney déclarait que la
conversation téléphonique qu'il avait eue le jeudi 22 août avec Gorbatchev ne
signifiait pas un changement dans la position canadienne vis-à-vis de
l'URSS72.
Le Canada et la reconnaissance des États baltes et des États successeurs
de l'URSS
C'est à l'occasion de sa rencontre avec le président Bush dans sa résidence d'été
de Kennebunkport que Brian Mulroney a annoncé la reconnaissance officielle
par le Canada, le lundi 26 août 1991, de la souveraineté des républiques baltes.
Jusqu'alors, le Canada, qui, à l'instar de la plupart des États occidentaux,
n'avait jamais accepté leur annexion forcée par Staline en 1940, se contentait
de composer avec une situation de fait. « Depuis 52 ans, le gouvernement du
Canada appuie fermement ces trois courageux pays dans leur lutte pour
retrouver leur indépendance. Le Canada n'a jamais reconnu leur annexion à
l'Union soviétique », déclarait Barbara McDougall73.
Les États-Unis, quant à eux, ont adopté, par rapport à plusieurs États européens
et au Canada, un profil relativement prudent quant aux revendications
nationalistes en URSS. Le gouvernement canadien se démarqua donc de
Washington en annonçant rapidement sa décision de nouer des liens officiels
211
IJCS / RIÉC
avec l'Estonie, la Lettonie et la Lituanie. Le ministre canadien du Commerce
extérieur, Michael Wilson, fit la tournée des pays baltes (2-4 septembre 1991),
avant de se rendre à Moscou pour demander au président soviétique de
reconnaître l'indépendance de ces trois répubiques. Le gouvernement
estonien, notamment, comptait que Wilson appuyât les républiques baltes, au
cours de son entretien avec Gorbatchev, dans leur décision de devenir
membres des organisations internationales et leur requête de retirer les troupes
soviétiques74. À la suite de son entrevue avec Gorbatchev, Wilson déclara que
l'URSS semblait disposée à reconnaître l'indépendance des trois pays baltes :
« [Gorbatchev] me laissa la claire impression que cette question serait réglée
dans quelques jours (...). Je fus très encouragé par ce que j'ai entendu »75.
Le Ministre du Commerce extérieur signa des documents établissant
officiellement des relations diplomatiques avec les pays baltes. Il exprima
également le soutien du Canada à l'Estonie, la Lettonie et la Lituanie dans leurs
démarches pour l'indépendance et leur passage à une économie de marché. « Je
pense que notre pays peut offrir de l'aide dans le processus de transition menant
à l'indépendance »76. Le Ministre du Commerce extérieur annonça, ainsi, que
le Canada favorisait une assistance technique à la Lettonie, dont $10 millions
par l'intermédiaire de la Société pour l'expansion des exportations77.
L'assistance technique fut aussi promise aux deux autres États baltes.
Toutefois, Ottawa resta prudente en ce qui concerne l'ouverture d'ambassades
dans ces pays. Le gouvernement opta pour une solution plus modeste. Ainsi,
Barbara McDougall nomma Michael Phillips, ambassadeur en Suède, pour
représenter la Canada en Lituanie et en Lettonie, et Mary Vandenhoff,
ambassadrice en Finlande, en Estonie78.
Ottawa se déclara également prêt à discuter de la reconnaissance diplomatique
de toute autre république voulant se détacher de l'URSS. « Nous
n'encourageons pas d'autres États à quitter l'Union soviétique (...) Nous
reconnaissons que quelque chose se produit, à un niveau dramatique ». Si
d'autres républiques voulaient se séparer démocrati- quement et pacifiquement
de l'URRS, « nous les reconnaîtrons », déclara Scott Mullin, porte-parole de la
secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures.
Mulroney a d'ailleurs indiqué qu'il reconnaîtrait l'Ukraine, si la déclaration
d'indépendance de cette république était confirmée par le référendum du 1er
décembre. Le Premier ministre a également fait part du voyage de Wilson à
Kiev en vue d'y ouvrir un consulat canadien79. Après avoir assisté à une
réunion à Moscou de la CSCE, Barbara McDougall se rendit à Kiev. Elle y
rappela la position canadienne au sujet de la reconnaissance de l'Ukraine : « Ce
n'est pas le moment de reconnaître l'indépendance » de l'Ukraine. « C'est
prématuré à ce jour ». La Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures a déclaré
que le Canada attendait, d'une part, le référendum du ler décembre et, d'autre
part, les résultats des négociations entre le gouvernement central et les
républiques « à propos du genre d'affiliation qu'elles auront entre elles et leurs
rapports avec le Centre. Nous prendrons en considération ces faits »80.
Dès le 2 décembre 1991, après le vote écrasant des Ukrainiens en faveur de
l'indépendance, le Canada fut le deuxième pays du monde à reconnaître
212
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
l'Ukraine, prenant une position en flèche par rapport à ses alliés de l'OTAN.
Cependant, il insistait que l'Ukraine liquide rapidement le stock d'armes
nucléaires qui se trouvait sur son territoire81. Le 27 janvier 1992, lors d'un
voyage de la Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures à Kiev, le consulat
canadien dans cette ville était élevé au statut d'ambassade. La création, le 8
décembre 1991, de la Communauté des États indépendants (CEI) était
accueillie avec inquiétude par le premier ministre Mulroney, toujours
soucieux du sort des arsenaux nucléaires se trouvant sur le territoire de la
Russie, de l'Ukraine, de la Biélorussie et du Kazakhstan82. Finalement, le 25
décembre 1991, le Premier ministre canadien prenait acte de la fin de l'URSS et
annonçait la reconnaissance par le Canada des onze autres républiques, soit
l'Arménie, l'Azerbaïdjan, le Bélarus (ex-Biélorussie), la Géorgie, le
Kazakhstan, le Kirghizistan, la Moldavie, l'Ouzbékistan, la Russie, le
Tadjikistan et le Turkménistan83. Le Canada travailla dès lors à renforcer les
liens de ces nouveaux États avec l'Ouest par le truchement de la CSCE et du
nouveau Conseil de coopération de l'Atlantique Nord, créé par le Sommet de
l'OTAN de Rome (7-8 novembre 1991) et qui groupe les pays de l'OTAN et les
anciens membres du Pacte de Varsovie84.
La coopération avec la Russie et les autres membres de la CÉI
Le 3 janvier 1992, le premier ministre Mulroney avait un entretien
téléphonique d'une demi-heure avec le président de la Russie, Boris Eltsine.
S'engageant à poursuivre ses efforts vers l'établissement d'une économie de
marché, Boris Eltsine a reçu les encouragements de Brian Mulroney, qui s'est
montré intéressé à collaborer au développement de l'économie russe. Une
visite de Eltsine au Canada en 1992 était aussi annoncée85.
Le Canada apportait une aide humanitaire à la Russie, l'Ukraine, l'Arménie, le
Bélarus, le Kirghizistan et la Moldavie, d'abord en assurant le transport par ses
forces armées de 102 tonnes de lait en poudre fournies par la Communauté
européenne (7-8 janvier 1992), ensuite en livrant ses propres fournitures
médicales (29 janvier-4 mars 1992) et une aide de $2 millions par l'entremise
de la Croix-Rouge canadienne86.
En visite à Ottawa le 1er février 1992, le président russe Boris Eltsine
rencontrait Brian Mulroney et signait un accord d'amitié et de coopération. Le
Canada et la Russie convenaient notamment de coopérer pour la protection de
l'environnement de l'Arctique. Un autre accord prévoyait une réduction de 30
p. 100 des tarifs canadiens sur les importations de biens manufacturés en
provenance de Russie. Cette réduction était étendue aux importations
ukrainiennes. Le Canada octroyait aussi une nouvelle ligne de crédit de $100
millions à la Russie. Enfin un accord de cinq ans prévoyait la vente de 25
millions de tonnes de blé canadien à la Russie87.
Les 19 et 20 juin 1992, Boris Eltsine était de retour à Ottawa. Lors de cette
visite, plusieurs nouveaux accords dans les domaines du commerce, de
l'agriculture et de la coopération arctique ont été conclus88. Cependant, un
certain nombre de points épineux furent soulevés. Ottawa interrogea Eltsine
sur la lenteur de la Russie à retirer ses troupes des pays baltes et sur son attitude
à l'égard de l'Ukraine89. La question de l'aide canadienne a été aussi abordée.
213
IJCS / RIÉC
Le Canada avait jusqu'alors offert à la Russie deux milliards de dollars, dont
une marge de crédit de 1,67 milliard. Un rapport du Comité des Affaires
extérieures de la Chambre des Communes, déposé le jour de l'arrivée du
président russe, recommandait d'accroître cette aide, sans toutefois négliger
les autres membres de la CEI. Une demande de Boris Eltsine de report du
remboursement des crédits pour l'achat de blé ne reçut pas de réponse de Brian
Mulroney90.
À la veille du Sommet des Sept, qui s'est tenu à Munich du 6 au 8 juillet 1992,
Brian Mulroney a notamment encouragé Boris Eltsine à accélérer les réformes
politiques et économiques. Mulroney a prévenu Eltsine que l'octroi d'une aide
de la part du FMI, de la Banque mondiale et du G7 serait conditionnel à la
déréglementation des prix en matière d'énergie91. Le Premier ministre
canadien se déclarait, en outre, d'accord avec son homologue britannique pour
juger prématuré d'accepter que la Russie se joigne au Groupe des Sept92. De
fait, la Russie dut s'engager à réduire son déficit et à augmenter les prix de
l'énergie pour obtenir de l'aide du FMI93. Finalement, le Sommet des Sept
donnait son accord à un programme de 24 milliards de dollars en faveur de la
Russie, comprenant 6 milliards pour un fonds de stabilisation du rouble, 11
milliards de crédits bilatéraux d'exportations, 4 milliards d'aides du FMI et de
la BERD et 3 milliards de remise de dette94.
En août 1992, le Canada fut obligé de suspendre temporairement ses envois de
blé vers la Russie. Celle-ci avait épuisé sa ligne de crédit95. Deux semaines
plus tard, les livraisons reprirent après que la Russie eut fait un paiement
d'urgence. Mais en novembre 1992, le Canada se voyait à nouveau obligé de
suspendre ses livraisons, alors que la Russie avait dépassé de $100 millions sa
ligne de crédit pour l'achat de céréales96.
Conclusion
Malgré les difficultés financière de la Russie, qui ont conduit le Canada à
suspendre temporairement deux fois ses envois de blé en 1992, celui-ci reste
résolument ouvert à la coopération avec la Russie et les autres pays de la CEI.
C'est parce qu'il s'est montré particulièrement généreux en matière de crédit
qu'il se doit de rappeler la Russie à ses obligations.
Mais les difficultés de la Russie et des autres pays de la CEI sont celles
d'économies en transition. Le Canada aide à surmonter ces difficultés, qui ne
sont que temporaires.
Plus généralement, le Canada, tant sur le plan bilatéral qu'au sein des
institutions paneuropéennes (la CSCE et le Conseil de coopération nordatlantique) et mondiales, s'efforce d'intégrer les pays de la CEI à une
communauté internationale fondée désormais sur la coopération.
Il est remarquable que le Canada, qui a été si lent à reconnaître les changements
qui se produisaient en URSS, soit aujourd'hui à la pointe des pays qui oeuvrent
pour intégrer la Russie et les autres pays de la CEI à la communauté
internationale. Mais il est évident qu'il s'agit d'une oeuvre de longue haleine.
Nous pensons que la traditionnelle vocation internationaliste du Canada lui
permettra de soutenir cet effort.
214
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
Je remercie mon assistante, Isabelle Politi, pour la recherche d'une partie de la
documentation qui a servi à écrire cet article.
John W. Holmes et Jean-René Laroche, « Le Canada et la guerre froide », dans Le Canada et
le Québec sur la scène internationale, édité par Paul Painchaud, Québec, Centre québécois
des relations internationales, 1977, p. 300.
André Donneur, « Le Canada et l'Europe de l'Est: le souci d'une diversification entre la
Guerre froide et la détente », dans André Donneur et P. Soldatos, Le Canada entre le monde
et les États-Unis, North York, Captus Press, 1988, p. 34.
International Perspectives, Vol. 17, no 3, mai-juin 1988, p. 45.
Lawrence Martin, « Moscow Attacks “Provocation” by Canada », The Globe and Mail, 23
juin 1988, pp. A1 et A2
P.D. Manson, « Glasnost and its Impact on the Canadian Forces », Canadian Defence
Quarterly, Vol. 18, no 6, juin 1989, pp. 9-12.
Hélène Galarneau, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec, Études
internationales, Vol. 19, 1988, p. 106.
« L'ambassadeur Fortier insiste sur l'espoir. Déclaration de l'ambassadeur du Canada, M.
Yves Fortier, à la première commission de la 43e session de l'Assemblée générale des
Nations-Unies, le 18 octobre 1988 », Le Bulletin du désarmement, Vol. 9, automne-hiver
1988, pp. 10-12.
Joe Clark, « Speech at the University of Calgary », Statement, 89/02, 13 janvier 1989.
« L'OTAN, une pierre angulaire de la politique étrangère canadienne », texte de la
déclaration du très honorable Joe Clark, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, à la
Chambre de commerce à l'occasion du 40e anniversaire de la fondation de l'OTAN, le 4 avril
1989, Le Bulletin du désarmement, Vol. 10, printemps-été 1989.
« Négociations sur les forces conventionnelles en Europe », Le Bulletin du désarmement,
Vol. 9, automne-hiver 1988, p. 10.
« Clark salue les propositions soviétiques », Le Bulletin du désarmement, Vol. 10,
printemps-été 1989, p. 6.
« Conférence sur la sécurité et la coopération en Europe », texte de l'allocution du très
honorable Joe Clark, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, à la clôture de la réunion de
suivi de Vienne, le 19 janvier 1989, Le Bulletin du désarmement, Vol. 10, printemps-été
1989, pp. 6-10.
« Un membre de l'ambassade d'URSS traite de “vieilles conceptions rouillées” les
inquiétudes de Joe Clark », Le Devoir, 19 janvier 1989, p. 2.
Jeff Sallot, « Moscow Denounces Missile Agreement », The Globe and Mail, 4 février 1989,
p. A9.
Janet Steffenhagen, « Canada's Peace Stand Harmed by Cruise Testing, Soviet Says », The
Globe and Mail, 3 février 1989, p. A5.
Michel Auger, « Mulroney rend hommage à Gorbatchev », Le Devoir, 4 mai 1989, pp. A1 et
A10.
Joe Clark, « Notes pour un discours devant la Fédération baltique au Canada, à l'occasion de
la dix-septième soirée baltique », Ottawa, le 21 juin 1989, Déclaration, 89/30.
Martine Jacot, « Le tardif dégel des relations canado-soviétiques », Le Monde, 22 novembre
1989, p. 4.
Fen Osler Hampson et Christopher J. Maule, « After the Cold War », dans Canada Among
Nations 1990-1991: After the Cold War, Ottawa, Carleton University Press, 1991, p. 20.
« Speech by the Right Honourable Mary Collins, Associate Minister of National Defence, to
the Meeting of Foreign Ministers to Mark the Opening of New Negotiations on
Conventional Arms Control in Europe », Vienne, 7 mars 1989, Statements and Speeches,
89/97.
Colonel B.A. Goetze, « Canadian-Soviet Military Staff Talks: Glasnost at Work »,
Canadian Defence Quarterly, Vol. 19, no 5, avril 1990, p. 29
Madeleine Albert et Hélène Galarneau, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et
du Québec », Études internationales, Vol. 20, 1989, p. 391.
Jocelyn Coulon, « Des militaires canadiens ont amorcé un programme d'échange avec
l'URSS », Le Devoir, 2 novembre 1989, p. 2.
215
IJCS / RIÉC
25. Ministère de la Défense, Communiqué, no 4/89, 27 janvier 1989.
26. « Mesures de confiance: la Marine canadienne à Vladivostock », Le Bulletin du
désarmement, no 14, automne 1990, p. 13.
27. Alexei Lipovetsky, « Une nouvelle ère: Ottawa et Moscou mettent l'accent sur
l'amélioration des relations économiques », Le Devoir, 18 novembre 1989, p. A9.
28. Carl H. MacMillan, « Le Canada et la transformation des économies en Europe de l'Est: les
défis politiques des années 1990 », Exposé, no 35, octobre 1990, ICPSI.
29. Allan L. Kagedan, « Canada and the Soviet Union », dans Canada Among Nations 1990-91:
After the Cold War, op. cit., pp. 202-203.
30. Marie Tison, « L'URSS achètera 25 millions de tonnes de céréales du Canada. Collaboration
spatiale soviéto-canadienne? », Le Devoir, 3 octobre 1986, pp. 1 et 8.
31. Maurice Godin, « Mulroney se rend en URSS pour appuyer les réformes », Le Devoir, 18
novembre 1989, p. A10.
32. Allan L. Kagedan, op. cit., pp. 204-205.
33. Hélène Galarneau et Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du
Québec », Études internationales, Vol. 21, 1990, p. 131.
34. Allan L. Kagedan, « Canada and the Soviet Union », op. cit., p. 204.
35. « Canadian-USSR Business Council », Bulletin, Vol. 1, no 2, 1990, p. 2.
36. « Notes pour un discours du très honorable Joe Clark, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires
extérieures, à une conférence sur les relations canado-soviétiques », Ottawa, le 28 novembre
1990, Déclarations et Discours, 90/68.
37. Marie Tison, « Mulroney en URSS: le Canada ouvrira un consulat à Kiev », Le Devoir, 24
novembre 1989, p. 2. Ce consulat ne fut finalement ouvert qu'en 1991.
38. « Notes pour une allocution par le ministre du Commerce extérieur, John Crosbie, dans le
cadre de la Conférence “Comment mener des affaires sur le marché soviétique des années
1990” », Hôtel King Edward (Toronto), le 19 février 1990, Déclarations et discours, 90/11.
39. « Notes pour un discours du très honorable Joe Clark, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires
extérieures, à une conférence sur les relations canado-soviétiques, Ottawa, le 28 novembre
1990 », Déclarations et discours, 90/68.
40. Allan L. Kagedan, « Canada and the Soviet Union », op. cit., p. 203.
41. Alexei Lipovetsky, op. cit., p. A9.
42. Alessandra Stanley, « Canadians Will Give Gorbatchev a Preview of U.S., Starting
Today »,The New York Times, 29 mai 1990, p. A6.
43. Cité par Allan L. Kagedan, op. cit., p. 198.
44. « Gorbatchev Invites Mulroney to Visit USSR Again », Bulletin, Ambassade d'URSS, no 43,
6 juin 1990, p. 10.
45. Hélène Galarneau et Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du
Québec », Études internationales, Vol. 21, 1990, p. 519.
46. « Notes for a Speech by the Secretary of State for External Affairs, the Right Honourable Joe
Clark, in the House of Commons during an Opposition Day Debate on “Canada and the New
Europe” », Ottawa, le 31 mai 1990, Statement, 90/35.
47. « Notes pour un discours du très honorable Joe Clark, secrétaire d'État aux Affaires
extérieures, à une conférence sur les relations canado-soviétiques », Ottawa, le 28 novembre
1990, Déclarations et Discours, 90/68.
48. « Notes for a Speech... », Ottawa, le 31 mai 1990, op. cit.
49. « Mulroney veut parler à Gorbatchev de sa lettre au Sommet en novembre à Moscou », Le
Devoir, 17 juillet 1989, p. 12.
50. Charlotte Montgomery, « Clark Sees Canadian Role in Soviet Economy », The Globe and
Mail, 27 septembre 1989, p. A4.
51. Pierre-Paul Noreau, « En proposant un lien entre l'URSS et le Groupe des Sept, Mulroney y
exauce Gorbatchev », Le Soleil, 21 novembre 1989, p. A12.
52. « Notes for a Speech... », Ottawa, 31 mai 1990, op. cit.
53. Hélène Galarneau et Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du
Québec », Études internationales, Vol. 21, 1990, p. 131.
54. Ministre du Commerce extérieur, Communiqué, no 90/21, 10 avril 1990; Gouvernement du
Canada, Communiqué, no 051, 16 mars 1990.
55. Agnès Gruda, « Mulroney promet d'oeuvrer à l'intégration de l'URSS à l'économie
mondiale », La Presse, 26 novembre 1989, p. A2.
216
La politique du Canada à l'égard de l'URSS :
de la rigidité à l'ouverture
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86.
87.
88.
89.
90.
« Joe Clark craint les effets pour Gorbatchev de l'explosion des nationalités en URSS », Le
Devoir, 27 septembre 1989, p. 5.
Secrétaire d'État aux Affaires extérieures, « M. Clark demande instamment aux Soviétiques
de faire preuve de modération en Lituanie », Communiqué, no 058, 27 mars 1990.
Madeleine Drohan, « Clarification on Gorbatchev Plan, P.M. Says But Answers Won't
Produce Miracles or Blank Cheques », The Globe and Mail, 15 juillet 1991.
« How the West Responds to Mr. Gorbatchev's Appeal », The Globe and Mail, 16 juillet
1991, p. A14.
« Le Canada suspend son aide à l'URSS », Le Devoir, 20 août 1991, pp. 1 et 4.
Madeleine Drohan et Olivier Bertin, « Wheat Deal Put on Hold », The Globe and Mail, 21
août 1991, pp. B1 et B6.
Paul Koring et John Saunders, « E.C. Sheds Diplomacy in Condemning Coup », The Globe
and Mail, 21 août 1981, pp. A1 et A8.
Huguette Yong, « Le Canada n'ira pas plus loin que la sympathie », Le Devoir, 21 août 1991.
Ross Howard, « Ottawa Resist Calling for Gorbatchev Retour », The Globe and Mail, 21
août 1991, p. A6.
Ross Howard, « McDougall Joins Anti-Coup Chorus », The Globe and Mail, 27 août 1991,
pp. A1 et A2.
Manon Cornellier, « Mulroney louange Eltsine et défend McDougall », Le Devoir, 22 août
1991, pp. 1 et 4.
Ross Howard, « Ottawa Resist Calling... », op. cit.
Manon Cornellier, op. cit.
Warren Carragata, « Mulroney prédit l'accélération des réformes », Le Devoir, 23 août 1991,
p. 2.
« Grain Negotiations Back on Track », The Globe and Mail, 23 août 1991, p. B2.
« World Leaders Hail Collapse of Soviet Coup Attempt », The Globe and Mail, 22 août 1991,
p. A7
« West Reconsiders More Aid as Soviet Hardiness Fade Away », The Globe and Mail, 23
août 1991, pp. B1 et B2.
« Le Canada reconnaît la souveraineté balte », Le Devoir, 27 août 1991, pp. 1 et 4
Carole Landry, « Wilson complète la tournée des pays baltes », Le Devoir, 5 septembre 1991
Julian Beltrame, « Gorbatchev to Unleash Baltics Within Days, Wilson Says After
Meeting », The Gazette, 6 septembre 1991, p. A7
« Wilson Pledges Canadian Aid for Independent Baltic States », The Globe and Mail, 25
septembre 1991, p. A7.
Carole Landry, « Wilson Carrying Message from PM to Gorbatchev, Minister Announces
Aid for Latvia », The Gazette, 7 septembre 1991, p. A10.
Warren Caragata, « Ottawa Names Ambassadors to New States », The Gazette, 7 septembre
1991, p. A10.
Ross Howard et Graham Fraser, « Ottawa Extends Recognition to Baltics », The Globe and
Mail, 27 août 1991, pp. A1 et A2.
« McDougall Cautions on Free Ukraine », The Globe and Mail, 9 septembre 1991, p. A8.
« Le Canada reconnaît l'Ukraine indépendante », La Presse, 3 décembre 1991, p. D11.
« Mulroney est inquiet et bouleversé par la situation en Union soviétique », Le Devoir, 11
décembre 1991, p. A4
Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec », Études
internationales, Vol. 23, 1992, p. 150.
Ibid., p. 140
« Elstine s'entretient avec Mulroney », La Presse, 4 janvier 1992, p. D1.
Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec », Études
internationales, Vol. 23, 1992, p. 428.
Jeff Sallot, « Canada, Russia Reach Accord on Arctic Future », The Globe and Mail, 3 février
1992, p. A8.
Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec », Études
internationales, Vol. 23, 1992, pp. 619-620.
Jeff Sallot, « Yeltsin Faces Frank Talk », The Globe and Mail, 19 juin 1992, p.A6.
Manon Tessier, « Chronique des relations extérieures du Canada et du Québec », Études
internationales, Vol. 23, 1992, p. 620.
217
IJCS / RIÉC
91. « Eltsine devra gagner les milliards qu'il demande », Le Devoir, 6 juillet 1992, p. 1.
92. « Mulroney oppose un refus à la Russie », La Presse, 5 juillet 1992, p. A1.
93. Carole Landry, « La Russie se plie aux voeux du FMI », Le Devoir, 8 juillet 1992, p. 1.
94. Éric LE Boucher, « M. Helmut Kohl souhaite que les Sept s'entendent sur des mesures
concrètes », Le Monde, 5-6 juillet 1992, p. 3.
95. Olivier Bertin, « Grain Shipments to Russia Are Cut Off », The Globe and Mail, 18 août
1992, p. A1.
96. « Le Canada suspend de nouveau ses livraisons à la Russie », La Presse, 12 novembre 1992,
p. B1.
218

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