A revealing and authoritative history that shows how Soviet whalers secretly helped nearly destroy endangered whale populations, while also contributing to the scientific understanding necessary for these creatures’ salvation.
The Soviet Union killed over six hundred thousand whales in the twentieth century, many of them illegally and secretly. That catch helped bring many whale species to near extinction by the 1970s, and the impacts of this loss of life still ripple through today’s oceans. In this new account, based on formerly secret Soviet archives and interviews with ex-whalers, environmental historian Ryan Tucker Jones offers a complete history of the role the Soviet Union played in the whales’ destruction. As other countries—especially the United States, Great Britain, Japan, and Norway—expanded their pursuit of whales to all corners of the globe, Stalin determined that the Soviet Union needed to join the hunt. What followed was a spectacularly prodigious, and often wasteful, destruction of humpback, fin, sei, right, and sperm whales in the Antarctic and the North Pacific, done in knowing violation of the International Whaling Commission’s rules. Cold War intrigue encouraged this destruction, but, as Jones shows, there is a more complex history behind this tragic Soviet experiment. Jones compellingly describes the ultimate scientific today’s cetacean studies benefited from Soviet whaling, as Russian scientists on whaling vessels made key breakthroughs in understanding whale natural history and behavior. And in a final twist, Red Leviathan reveals how the Soviet public began turning against their own country’s whaling industry, working in parallel with Western environmental organizations like Greenpeace to help end industrial whaling—not long before the world’s whales might have disappeared altogether.
The book I’ve been reading on the Soviet whaling industry has a lot of interesting insights. And heartbreak. The Soviet Union killed over six hundred thousand whales in the twentieth century, many of them illegally and secretly. The authorities carefully altered documents and fudged numbers to hide the true scale of their operation.
Why did the Soviets hunt so many whales? No reason in particular. The USSR had no use for whale meat, and precious little for blubber, hydrogenating small amounts as marjoram. Whales were killed so quickly that the bodies rotted before they could be processed, many thrown back into the sea. As it turned out, Soviet economic planners had been setting whaling quotas based on historic whaling as a percentage of the fisheries industry, regardless of any actual usefulness.
Soviet scientists petitioned the fisheries minister, saying their grandchildren would live in a world without whales, they were told “your grandchildren aren’t the ones who can remove me from my job.”
The book itself is full of colorful whalers and scientists, and a wonderful blend of commentary on how, as it did in so many things, the heartfelt USSR set out to do things better than the capitalists, and did worse.
In the 20th Century the Soviet Union participated in one of the greatest environmental crimes of all time, the mass culling of the world's great whales. At least that's the cliff's notes version I read years ago. In his excellent book Red Leviathan, Ryan Tucker Jones lives up to the promise of the title and fleshes out a remarkable story of how this crime unfolded, but also to place it both a global and a Soviet context.
Because Jones' context is beautifully pointed. Seen from the shores of Russia, the crimes against our oceans started centuries before any western activist shouted Save the Whales. Watching generations of Yankee and European whalers denude Russia's waters of its whales, and cripple the food security of indigenous communities in Siberia and Alaska left a bloody mark the Soviet Union remembered well into the 20th Century. That same impression inspired Soviet scientists to make the first real efforts at cetacean conservation. Though these fell woefully short in the face of grim Five Year Plan quotas, it's a sharp detail that adds nuance and detail that changes the USSR's role in the slaughter to something all the more tragic.
There's joy in this story as well, Jones injects anecdotes of whaler solidarity, of the almost model Soviet societies created in these fleets at sea and the wealth of foreign commodities they brought back to Vladivostok and Odessa. Best of all are often his own personal anecdotes of encounters with whalers or whales. These are quietly inserted and help frame or fill in gaps in the overall narrative in a way that doesn't feel overly promotional or egotistical, just a quiet note of personal empathy that resonates like a whale's song across the seas.
If there's one flaw to the work it's that Jones assumes a certain familiarity with the overall political beats of his narrative. The final few chapters spend less time than I'd have liked adding in context from the International Whaling Commission's transition and the USSR's interactions with other whaling nations like Japan. But it's a fairly minor complaint. What's here is full of colorful whalers and scientists, and a wonderful blend of commentary on how, as it did in so many things, the USSR set out to do things better than the capitalists, and may have done worse in the end. Perhaps at the end of the day it was all the same to the whales regardless of who was aiming the harpoon.
Seda raamatut kiideti Vikerraadios ja mina kui reklaami usaldav inimene võtsin ta kohe ette. Tükk aega tagasi olin tuttav ühe vana meremehega, kes nimetas end Eesti viimaseks vaalakütiks. Ta pakkus oma mälestusi paarile kirjastusele, aga edutult, peeti liiga veriseks.
Raadiotutvustusest jäi mulje, et tegemist on tõsise uurimusega, aga võta näpust. Kuna täpset infi nõukaaja vaalapüügi kohta napib, võttis autor appi interneti (mida ma samuti jäägitult usaldan), ilukirjanduse ja vaalapüüdjate seas levinud kuulujutud. Kontakt nõukaaegsete ekspertidega jättis talle nii sügava mulje, et ta lihtsalt ei suutnud nende kohta midagi hullu paberile panna. Puudujäänud leheküljed said täidetud ühe ja sama materjali korduste ja Vene linnade vaatamisväärsuste tutvustustega. Nojah, kiidusõnu jätkus ka Nõukogude Liidu vaalapüügilaevade tehnilise seisukorra kirjeldamiseks.
Kogu haipi kõrvale jättes on selle raamatu kõige põhjalikumalt läbitöötatud osaks hoopis ülevaade nõukaeelsest perioodist ja nõukaaegsest ilukirjandusest vaalade kohta – nt Juri Rõtheud nimetatakse mitu korda. Autori pealiskaudsus ja naiivsus paneb ikka mitu korda pead vangutama. Ühe koha peal kukub ta venelasi kiitma selle eest, et delfiine ei kütitud ja seda ei lubatud teha ka Musta mere äärsetel sotsmaadel. Ilmselt ei tekkinud Jonesil kordagi kahtlust, et venelastel võisid delfiinidega kavalamad plaanid olla. Ka Greenpeace’i panust venelaste vaalapüügi lõpetamisesse on pehmelt öeldes üle hinnatud. Mina kahtlustan, et sellistel teostel nagu „Leviathan“ (hmm, sarnane pealkiri?) oli pikemas plaanis hoopis olulisem roll.
Mitte ei suutnud aru saada, mis teema on autoril seksiga. Kuidagi palju oli juttu kas vaalade seksist, vaalapüüdjate seksist, seksuaalsest ahistamisest või siis seksiteemalistest vihjetest. Miks ma arvasin, et selles raamatus räägitakse vaaladest?!
Recommended reading! I was unaware of the sheer scale of Soviet whaling. It was extensive and secretive, and its impact on global whale populations was profound from the 1960s. Jones brings to light the sheer scale of the Soviet whaling industry and its environmental and ecological consequences. The Soviet Union prioritized economic gains and political prestige far more than a possible demand for the products whaling could provide.
The book gives a good understanding of the motivations of whalers, scientists, and plan bureaucrats, showing how ultimately the whaling stopped under leader Mikhail Gorbachev. The author has done research in previously closed archives and interviewed some of the people active back in the day.
In all, an interesting read with some rather poignant questions regarding environmental management, economics, politics and ecology.
A vomit inducing book. I have never encountered a book whose introduction proved a genuine effort of will to be finished. Jones collects disgusting details and blood-boiling testimonies across the history of Soviet Whaling.
The neglect with which people treat our planet and our cousins upon its surface is horrific, second only to the cruelty and destitution that we subject ourselves to.
Have you ever wondered what happened between the age of whaling towns in New England and the Save the Whale campaigns in the 60s? Did you know that there were whaling ships from the (rather new) Soviet Union coming to Hawaii in the Great Depression? Do you want a reminder of just how close we humans came to eliminating some of the most captivating species on the planet out of sheer pig headedness? Then this is the book for you. A fascinating look into a rarely explored time.
This is my dad's book and you should totally read it because he worked hard on it, he's super smart, and he's an amazing author. He's also the best dad ever so you owe it to him to read this piece of art, it'll be worth your while. Probably the best book that's ever been written to be honest. Once you've read this you might as well stop reading altogether because you'll never find a book quite as good as this one.