Over 10,000 kilometres east of Moscow, beyond Siberia, lies the Taiga of Russia's Far East. Sandwiched between the warm Sea of Japan and the frozen north, the Taiga is an ecological melting pot where Arctic wildlife meets Asian. Valuable old growth trees such as Manchurian Oak and Korean Pine are the key to this ecosystem, which is home to hundreds of rare species, including the last Siberian, or Amur, tigers.
The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 ushered in a period of political and economic disarray that has taken a severe toll on the natural resources of Russia's Far East. The enforcement of wildlife protection was largely abandoned, and the cash-strapped Russian government raised money by selling off large tracts of Siberian forest to logging companies. In addition, the lack of employment opportunities has led to an increase in illegal logging and poaching activities.
As the accessible timber is coming to an end, pressure is increasing to open up the last areas of untouched Taiga.
Cut Loose
One truckload of old growth timber is worth thousands of dollars - a fortune in post-Soviet Russia. Loggers are not interested in the vast expanses of fast-growing birch and aspen. It's the old growth trees which give life to the Taiga that fetch the highest prices on the export markets in Japan and China.
When the Soviet regime collapsed, so too did the rigid system of export controls. Thousands of small firms appeared, eager to gain from rising prices abroad and increasingly corruptible local authorities. The result is that in this chaotic free-for-all, the enfeebled regional and federal governments lack the will to enforce forest conservation. Unscrupulous firms have a captive labour market, and their unrestrained logging operations are wrecking the ecology of the old growth forests.
On paper, Russia has some of the strictest logging laws in the world. But in practice, as soon as a logging road opens nothing can protect the forest from powerful logging interests.
One of Russia's biggest logging firms, Primorlesprom, is preparing to build a road through the Sikhote-Alin, one of the last untouched forests in the Far East. Any logging activities in this region are violating both international conventions and Russian laws and regulations.
Easy Prey
The Sikhote-Alin is one of the few habitats of the Siberian, or Amur, tiger. This tiger once roamed over huge swathes of Central and East Asia. Today it has all but disappeared from China, Siberia and Korea. Almost all of the estimated 330-370 animals live in the Russian Far East where they rely on high concentrations of prey. A tiger requires at least 20kg of meat a day, and is therefore dependent on healthy stocks of reindeer and wild boar. Large-scale commercial logging destroys the region's ecology and interrupts the food chain - fewer trees means there will be less prey for the tigers to feed on.
The tiger is also prey to poachers - its skin can fetch tens of thousands of dollars, and the internal organs and bones are valuable ingredients in traditional Asian medicine.
The combined pressures of poaching, habitat loss and reduced prey availability have been edging the tiger ever closer to extinction.
In Touch with the Taiga
The region is also the home of the last indigenous Bikin Udege people. To the Udege people, the Taiga means everything. They hunt the animals that live there and fish in the Bikin River, but their relationship with nature is built on the principles of sustainability. Remembering how other Udege groups were forced from their age-old territories due to commercial exploitation of their regions, the Bikin Udege are extremely sceptical of any advances from the timber industry. They have managed to cling on to their hunting territories because they lie in the remote, inaccessible Sikhote-Alin forest. It is protected by regional laws and measures passed in far-away Moscow. In theory this gives the Udege control over their precious river and forest.
A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing?
Primorlesprom claim the building of the road through the Sikhote-Alin is in the interest of the environment. They say the road it intends to build will allow access to fire-fighting vehicles in the case of forest fires and that it will enable forest rangers to better protect the remaining tigers.
In the Bikin Udege village of Krasny Yar, Primorlesprom's arguments are met with dismay. People claim this would be a road built for poachers and loggers. They point out that these problems, ubiquitous throughout the Far Eastern forests, do not affect the Sikhote-Alin. As it stands, it is inaccessible to poachers and logging brigades. Furthermore, an old growth ecosystem is damp, making it naturally fire-resistant.
However, a court accepted a new environmental impact study which supported Primorlesprom's 'environmental protection' arguments and rejected the Udege's legal objections.
Fuelling the Few
Over the last decade, the Russian Far East has become increasingly dependent on export of its natural resources. The new influx of capital, much of it illegal, has fuelled a massive boom in the cities of Vladivostok and Khabarovsk. But only a few have got rich, whereas for the majority the quality of life has taken a nosedive with unemployment, alcoholism and drug abuse at ever increasing levels. For many, joining the illegal logging brigades is the only way to earn a living.
The police are the only ones who have the authority to arrest the loggers, but chronically underpaid and low on morale, corruption is widespread amongst them. Few businessmen or officials are untainted by the temptations of 'unofficial taxes'.
Unsustainable Exports
Uncontrolled logging is doing permanent damage not only to the ecology of the region, but also to its potential for economic recovery. The logs are turned into furniture and high-quality construction materials in China, so Russia is effectively exporting most of the jobs and the potential profits.
One factory has started exporting high-quality parquet, generating income from much less raw material, paying taxes and providing jobs for people whose only other alternative would be to join the illegal logging brigades.
But few legitimate companies are willing to invest in a region where crime and corruption penalise honesty and openness.
The tragedy is that everyone is a loser in this case of unsustainable development - the people and animals living in the forests of the Far Eastern Taiga, the Russian economy, and the loggers themselves when the timber runs out.