Arctic Pragmatic

By Luba Kuzovnikova

When Alexis Destoop first arrived in the High North in late 2011, international interest in the Arctic, including in the expanding field of trans-Arctic transportation and logistics due to melting sea ice, had been growing. Global media outlets already had the melting Arctic in their headlines. The first transarctic cargo-vessel had already departed from Kirkenes bound for Shanghai, testing the northern sea route as an eventual alternative to the Suez Canal, paving the way for further elaboration of the Arctic shipping regulations. Arctic communities were hurrying to inscribe themselves into the changing contours of rapid globalization.

 2010 brought the Stoltenberg-Medvedev Agreement into existence – settling the 40-year long dispute surrounding the maritime demarcation line in the Barents Sea between Norway and Russia. In 2011, the maritime borderline was ratified by both parliaments. On land, the border authorities on both sides were replacing the old wooden border polls with new versions made in eternal fiberglass.

 Cooperation and joint actions became embedded into principles and strategies of governance in the borderland shared by Norway and Russia, as well as researching flora and fauna in the Barents Sea, coordinating quotas for fish and king crabs, coordinating future exploration of oil and gas fields in the Arctic, search and rescue operations along the Arctic coast and such. Moreover, almost unheard-of things were happening; military cooperation in the form of joint exercises that were started in 2002 became annual exercises between the Norwegian Border Garrison and the Russian Arctic Brigade. Imagine, the NATO-member garrison and Russian garrison meet to exercise, shoot each other’s guns and drive each other’s ATV’s.

 In 2013, at the outbreak of the Arab Spring, the Arctic seemed to be the only quiet and idyllic place on earth; yet 2013 saw the peak of transarctic commercial shipping, 71 voyages compared to 4 in 2010 (though after 2014 the trend went down again). Russia started modernizing its nuclear ice-breaking fleet. The race for the Arctic was described with hints to the old arms race. Norway opened the Barents Sea for oil exploration. Climatologists announced that we had reached the point of no return, and the doomsday clock was not five to twelve, but in-fact, three to twelve.

 Destoop visits the Norwegian and Russian High North three times to experience and capture both the optimism and growing concerns that accompanied the upward trend of these years.

 Then comes the disruption of 2014, bringing cold currents into the warm waters. The west’s reaction to the Ukrainian conflict and Russia’s annexation of Crimea puts a stop to many things – from bilateral military cooperation to established political ties. Norway eagerly joins the EU sanctions against Russia, finalizes the deal to purchase a fleet of F-35 fighter jets, and later allows American bases to be established in Norway. Seen from the outside, the borderland up here is seen as one of the hotspots, not least because the only border-crossing checkpoint - Boris Gleb / Storskog – was rocked in 2015 by the flow of refugees on bicycles that was christened the “Arctic route”, a refugee route through Russia to Norway.  

 Alexis is also taking a break – Russia seems inaccessible, Norway seems alert. In the borderland, life runs as usual. Culture, sport, business, administration and research cooperation in the north remains (almost) unaffected. Except for the fact that in 2014-2015 the cross-border day shopping visits decreased drastically as the Russian rouble weakened.

 Destoop is back to the borderland in 2016, and before the film is finished, completes seven journeys in total; doing more interviews, visiting more places on both sides of the border, going deeper into the woods and out into the tundra.   

The way Russia was portrayed in the west and the west was portrayed in Russia was called misunderstanding by some, and exaggeration and demonization by others. The west was perceived as a threat to Russia, as it was seen to have interfered in her neighbour states, sowing instability along her border. Russia was a threat to the west, as it was seen as a bear with grandiose imperial intentions – leaving some in the west to ask – who is next after Crimea? Propaganda in different attire per excellence, blurring the line between truth and fiction. Then came the Russiagate story. “The Russians did it” became the most cited answer to many misfortunes in the west. Then one of Destoop’s characters disappeared and was convicted of espionage by the FSB, two years later being released in a triple spy exchange deal. While seismic drilling to identify desirable natural resources in the Barents Sea was performed in cooperation between Russian and Norwegian authorities, Russia conducted its biggest military exercises off the coast of the Fisherman’s Peninsula, and Norway housed its biggest NATO exercises off its coastline. While provoking and irritating each other in a military context, Norway and Russia are building up pragmatic cooperation in the north. The sustainability of fishing stocks are being forecast in collaboration, information about fishing quotas is shared, Russian vessels are repaired in Norway, Norwegian drivers fill their tanks with Russian petroleum. The borderline is guarded on both sides according to the original Border Treaty. The reindeer have learnt to respect the border. While the strategic rhetoric of the alliances across the old divides focuses on the image of the enemy necessary for mobilizing one´s resources and power, everyday life experience of people living and working in the north offers a path through which to ease relations, when political tensions are high.

 The Arctic will save us all. Political geography does not allow one to choose a neighbour or to get rid of one. Living and working up in the Arctic demands co-existence across the border – both to satisfy basic needs, or to achieve global plans. It may be useful to have a more nuanced vision of each other, no matter how strong the connotations behind the collective nouns, Russia and the West.  Pragmatism of the Arctic will save or kill us all.

 In Northern Drift, Alexis Destoop removes the stringent notion of the border as a line of demarcation. The audience may enter the shipbuilding yard in Kirkenes, then on leaving, find themselves overlooking the expanse of Murmansk's skyline from the outlook at Abram-Mys. In this way, the notion of border becomes a broad, expansive space that bears signs of the past and projections of the future.

 The narration of Northern Drift is heavy with facts and events, overcoming geographic specificity, and yet rich in detail. The voice is hoarse, hinting on impending doom that is heavy to bear. He speaks in a tone that can be understood as half reporting on facts and half relying on dim recollections, in a style where it is unclear if he is speaking from the present, or from a distant past that was discovered in the future after some unknown disaster.

 Hushed in its timbre, the landscape in Northern Drift is harsh and inaccessible, and yet bears traces of significant human activity. For us living up in the North, the recognizable becomes abstract, and the juxtaposition of known places, landscapes and infrastructure feels intrinsically political.