How Russia Sold Alaska: Territorial Acquisition without the Consent of Indigenous Peoples

 How Russia Sold Alaska: Territorial Acquisition without the Consent of Indigenous Peoples

By Emeka Esogbue

"Sometimes, a joke gets straight to the heart of a historical injustice more quickly than a lengthy legal explanation." And this is one such instance.

Contrary to the perception held by some Africans, Africa is not the only continent that has suffered colonial injustice. The history of Alaska provides another striking example of how powerful governments have negotiated over territories inhabited by other peoples without obtaining the consent of those whose lives and ancestral lands were directly affected.

In 1867, Russia sold Alaska to the United States for $7.2 million in gold. The transaction, known as the Alaska Purchase, was a diplomatic agreement rather than a military conquest. However, beneath the formalities of the treaty lies a troubling question: what consideration was given to the Indigenous peoples who had inhabited the territory long before Russian explorers arrived?

Russia sold Alaska, and the Indigenous peoples living there were transferred from Russian to American rule without their collective consent.

How Did It Happen?

Russia began exploring and establishing settlements in Alaska during the eighteenth century. Russian traders became involved in the fur trade, particularly the lucrative trade in sea otter pelts.

By the nineteenth century, Russia controlled Alaska, which it called Russian America. However, maintaining the distant territory presented considerable challenges. Alaska was far removed from Russia's principal centres of power, and the Russian government lacked the resources to develop and defend it extensively.

Russia had also suffered a costly defeat in the Crimean War (1853–1856), placing additional pressure on its finances and military resources.

Russian leaders feared that, if another war broke out, Britain might seize Alaska because British territory in Canada bordered the region. Rather than risk losing the territory to a rival power without compensation, Russia began considering a sale.

The Russian government ultimately decided to transfer its territorial claims to the United States. Moscow also hoped that strengthening its relationship with Washington would help counterbalance British influence in North America and the Pacific.

In March 1867, the two governments concluded an agreement under which the United States would pay Russia $7.2 million in gold for Alaska. The acquisition covered approximately 600,000 square miles, at a price equivalent to roughly two cents per acre.

The transaction was a significant territorial acquisition for the United States. Yet it also exposes a fundamental problem in the history of colonialism: How could one government claim the right to transfer a territory inhabited by other peoples, particularly when those peoples had not consented to the arrangement?

The Indigenous Peoples of Alaska: Were Their Interests Considered?

Some Africans argue that Russia was never a colonial power. However, the history of Russian expansion beyond its original European territories raises important questions about how colonialism should be understood.

When a state establishes control over a distant territory, claims sovereignty over its inhabitants, and subsequently transfers that territory to another power without obtaining the inhabitants' consent, the arrangement deserves serious scrutiny.

One does not have to accept every aspect of the Western historical narrative to recognise the injustice that can arise when powerful governments determine the political future of other peoples without giving them an equal voice.

Long before Russian explorers arrived, Alaska was home to Indigenous peoples with their own cultures, traditions, systems of governance, and relationships with the land. These included:

- The Iñupiat.

- The Yup'ik.

- The Unangax̂, also known as the Aleut.

- The Tlingit.

- Various Athabascan peoples.

These communities did not need Russia to establish their historical presence in Alaska. Their relationship with the territory predated Russian settlement by generations.

Yet, in 1867, Russia and the United States negotiated the transfer of sovereignty over the territory without making the collective consent of its Indigenous inhabitants a condition of the agreement.

The fundamental injustice lies in the fact that two governments negotiated over the sovereignty of a territory without treating its Indigenous inhabitants as equal participants in determining their political future.

The Legal Agreement and the People Left Behind

The Alaska Purchase treaty addressed the status of inhabitants in the transferred territory.

It provided that inhabitants could return to Russia within three years or remain in Alaska. Those who remained, subject to the treaty's distinctions concerning Indigenous peoples, were addressed in terms of citizenship and legal protection.

The treaty treated Indigenous inhabitants differently from other residents, using language that reflected the discriminatory attitudes of the period. It also placed Indigenous communities under laws and regulations that the United States might subsequently adopt concerning Indigenous peoples.

This arrangement created an unequal framework for determining the rights and status of the population.

Although Russia and the United States did not legally purchase Indigenous people as private property, the transfer placed those communities under a new sovereign authority without their collective consent.

This distinction is important, but it does not resolve the underlying moral problem.

If people live on their ancestral land and two foreign governments negotiate over who will exercise authority over them without consulting them, those people risk being treated as objects of a territorial transaction rather than as peoples entitled to determine their own political future.

The fact that a treaty formally transfers sovereignty does not, by itself, establish that the affected population has freely consented to the transfer.

This is the uncomfortable historical reality: the land was sold, sovereignty changed hands, and the people who inhabited the territory were left to live with a decision over which they had no equal influence.

To describe this problem is not to claim that the treaty legally sold human beings as property. Rather, it is to question the legitimacy of a system in which powerful governments could transfer political control over entire populations without securing their consent.

Russia, Territorial Expansion, and the War in Ukraine

More than a century and a half later, Russia's territorial ambitions raise related questions about the relationship between state power, sovereignty, and the rights of the people who inhabit contested territories.

Russia's history of territorial expansion cannot be reduced to a single episode, and the circumstances surrounding Alaska's sale differ significantly from those of the present war in Ukraine. Nevertheless, the question of whether powerful states should be permitted to determine the fate of other peoples through territorial acquisition remains relevant.

In the Russia–Ukraine war, Moscow has sought control over Ukrainian territories, including Donetsk Oblast in eastern Ukraine.

As reported in October 2026, Russian President Vladimir Putin was reportedly insisting that Ukraine surrender the remaining Ukrainian-controlled parts of the Donbas region as a condition for resuming peace negotiations.

This raises a fundamental question: What happens to the people who were born in these territories, whose ancestors lived there, and who consider the land their home?

Do their wishes matter only when they align with the territorial ambitions of powerful governments? Are their ancestral connections, property rights, cultural identities, and political preferences secondary to the demands of territorial expansion?

The international community frequently speaks about peace, justice, human rights, and the sovereignty of nations. Yet territorial disputes continue to expose the tension between these principles and the interests of powerful states.

A territory is not merely a geographical area to be acquired, exchanged, or incorporated into another country. It is also home to communities whose histories, livelihoods, identities, and futures are tied to that land.

When governments focus almost exclusively on territorial acquisition, the people who inhabit the territory risk becoming secondary considerations in negotiations that will fundamentally alter their lives.

The Bakassi Precedent: When Territory Changes Hands, What Happens to the Indigenes?

The experience of Bakassi raises a similar question. When two governments settle a territorial dispute, what happens to the people whose ancestral homes lie within the disputed territory?

The Bakassi case is particularly revealing because the inhabitants were not merely passive observers of the dispute. Many expressed opposition to the transfer and concerns about their future under Cameroonian sovereignty.

On 10 October 2002, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruled that sovereignty over the Bakassi Peninsula belonged to Cameroon. The Court relied substantially on colonial-era boundary arrangements, particularly the Anglo-German Agreement of 11 March 1913.

Nigeria accepted the judgment. On 12 June 2006, Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo and Cameroonian President Paul Biya signed the Greentree Agreement, which established arrangements for implementing the judgment and transferring authority over the peninsula.

On 14 August 2008, Nigeria formally transferred authority over Bakassi to Cameroon.

But an important question remains: Did the legal settlement between the two countries adequately protect the interests of the people living in Bakassi?

Many inhabitants identified as Nigerians and maintained deep historical, cultural, economic, and familial connections to Nigeria. The transfer confronted them with difficult choices concerning their nationality, their livelihoods, their property, and whether they could remain in their ancestral homes.

The Greentree Agreement included provisions intended to protect residents' rights, including safeguards relating to nationality, property, culture, language, religion, and economic activities. Nevertheless, the existence of these provisions did not automatically eliminate the difficulties or grievances experienced by affected communities.

Some residents opposed the handover and expressed concerns about their future. Their experiences raise questions about whether the practical protection afforded to them was sufficient to address the consequences of the transfer.

The central issue is not simply whether the ICJ delivered a legally binding judgment. It is also whether the governments involved did enough to ensure that the people most directly affected would not be left to bear the consequences of a dispute they had little power to determine.

Did Nigeria Do Enough for the People of Bakassi?

In my view, the Nigerian government's response deserves serious scrutiny.

Nigeria had a legal obligation to comply with the ICJ judgment. However, compliance with an international judgment and the protection of affected citizens are not mutually exclusive responsibilities.

The government could comply with the judgment while also pursuing stronger practical safeguards for the people of Bakassi, including effective protection of their property, livelihoods, nationality rights, and freedom to remain in their ancestral communities.

The fact that the ICJ had ruled in Cameroon's favour did not make the welfare of the inhabitants irrelevant. Nor did it relieve the Nigerian government of the responsibility to advocate for the interests of its citizens during the implementation process.

The Greentree Agreement contained safeguards, but the existence of those safeguards should not prevent us from examining whether they were sufficient or effectively implemented.

The question, therefore, is not whether Nigeria should simply have ignored the ICJ judgment. Rather, it is whether Nigeria did everything reasonably possible to protect the people whose lives were directly affected by its implementation.

For many people who identify with Bakassi's history and communities, this remains a painful question.

Conclusion: Can Territory Be More Important Than People?

The Alaska Purchase, Russia's territorial ambitions in Ukraine, and the Bakassi dispute differ in their historical circumstances and legal foundations. They should not be treated as identical cases.

Nevertheless, they raise a common and important question about the relationship between territorial sovereignty and human dignity.

When governments negotiate over territory, do they adequately consider the rights and wishes of the people who live there? Or do the interests of states routinely take precedence over the concerns of the communities whose lives are most directly affected?

The history of Alaska demonstrates how a formal agreement between governments can transfer sovereignty without establishing the consent of Indigenous inhabitants. The experience of Bakassi shows how an international boundary judgment and its implementation can leave affected communities facing difficult questions about nationality, property, livelihoods, and belonging. The war in Ukraine raises related questions about territorial integrity, the rights of displaced people, and the future of communities caught in a conflict between states.

These cases remind us that legal agreements and political settlements must be examined not only in terms of the territorial arrangements they establish but also in terms of their consequences for human beings.

A government may negotiate a boundary, purchase a territory, or claim sovereignty over a region. But the people who live there are not merchandise, and their ancestral connections to the land should never be treated as insignificant details in a diplomatic bargain.

The real test of any territorial settlement is not merely whether governments can reach an agreement. It is whether the rights, dignity, and legitimate interests of the people who must live with that agreement are meaningfully protected.

After all, land may be represented on a map as a territory to be transferred. To the people who call it home, however, it is much more than that. It is their history, their identity, their livelihood, and their future.