by Farley Mowat
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2 Hood seals, which even most government scientists now admitted were near or at the endangered level, received a new lease on life. As a result of the collapse of sealing at the Front, only 129 hood sculps were taken during the 1982 hunt in Canadian waters.
Despite all this, Pierre de Bané professed to believe that all was well with the “industry.” Stoutly asserting that not a single whitecoat had been taken in the spring of 1983, he expressed his confidence that the EEC would not ratify its import ban. Furthermore, now that the anti-sealers were deprived of the stereotype of the bloodied whitecoat pup with which to fuel public indignation and generate financial contributions, he expected the protest movement to dry up and blow away. Meanwhile the federal government was arranging to compensate Canadian sealers to the tune of a million dollars for the poor prices they had received in 1983. De Bané did not explain to Canadian taxpayers that this largesse was necessary because east-coast fishermen were losing interest in the sealing business and that, without them, Fisheries and Oceans’ most telling justification for maintaining an annual slaughter—that many Maritimers were dependent on it for their livelihood—would lose what little validity it retained. I should note here that in 1982 the average return to Canadian sealers had amounted to less than $800 apiece.
Despite this display of optimism about the future of the sealing “industry,” de Bané and his advisers were facing dark portents. On October 1, 1983, despite furious last-minute lobbying by Canada, the EEC directive banning imports of harp seal whitecoats and hood seal bluebacks took effect for a two-year period. Meantime, a potentially even more serious obstacle to Fisheries and Oceans’ “final solution” to the seal problem was beginning to loom on the horizon.
As early as March of 1982, Brian Davies and the directors of the IFAW had reluctantly concluded that even an effective ban by the EEC might not be enough by itself to end the hunt. They therefore began preparing an action of such audacity and magnitude that many of their own supporters were convinced it would not work. What they had in mind was no less than a consumer boycott of all Canadian fish products imported into Britain.
“Britain is Canada’s second most important customer for fish,” an IFAW spokesman explained to me. “On average, gross sales to Britain amount to a hundred million dollars a year. We decided we could, and would if we had to, change all that. If Canada continued with the hunt, we would make her pay through the nose.”
There was never any secret about what was planned. In September, 1982, Davies had told Ottawa precisely what was intended if the seal hunt continued. Initially, it would appear, the Ottawa mandarins were simply contemptuous of what one referred to as “this bumbling attempt at blackmail.” They remained unimpressed even when, in January of 1983, as many as 150,000 postcards were sent by IFAW supporters in Britain to the fisheries ministers of the Canadian Atlantic Provinces, pledging the signatories to support the boycott of Canadian fish if the spring hunt took place as scheduled. Ottawa dismissed this as mere bluff.
When the 1983 “cull” went ahead as advertised, the IFAW got down to business, working with an umbrella group in Britain, the Seal Protection Group, that consisted of eight major conservation and animal welfare organizations. The anti-sealers were particularly incensed because, regardless of de Bané’s denials, the slaughter again included whitecoats.
“Despite the Seal Protection Regulations,” I was told by an IFAW member, “our group, Greenpeace, and the Sea Shepherd people all had got evidence that whitecoats were being killed. We didn’t know how many but we suspected plenty. So then it was full-speed ahead with the boycott. And we were determined to make it as brutally effective against the Canadian economy as a sealer’s club against a seal pup’s skull.”
Initially budgeted at $1 million (U.S.), the operation was the best-organized boycott ever mounted by any animal welfare group. It got under way in September, 1983, with a write-in campaign directed at British wholesale firms importing Canadian fish. In October, the second phase opened with a torrent of letters and cards to major grocery chains. Both actions were backed by widespread advertising, street theatre, and masterful use of the media.
The campaign was deliberately designed to take effect in stages, any one of which might serve to persuade the Canadian government to end the commercial ice-seal hunt. As the months went by and de Bané not only showed no sign of acquiescence but became ever more bellicose, the pressure was increased. When, in December, the Newfoundland Minister of Fisheries announced that the 1984 “harvest” would take place as usual, the IFAW pulled out all the stops.
On February 7, 1984, Tesco, the largest grocery chain in Britain, controlling 465 retail stores, decided to comply with its customers’ wishes as expressed through tens of thousands of protest cards. Tesco agreed to remove all stocks of Canadian fish products and to buy no more until the seal hunt ended. This was the breakthrough, and it was clear that several other major British firms would soon find it expedient to follow suit.
Alarmed at last by this very real threat to its fish trade with Britain, Canada counterattacked. While the Canadian High Commissioner in London categorically denied that baby seals were still being killed, de Bané accused the directors of the IFAW of knowing full well that the whitecoat hunt had been stopped but of deliberately “spreading the lie” that it had not.
Under increasingly heavy pressure to justify the ongoing “cull,” Fisheries and Oceans unleashed a flood of press releases, most of which were dutifully echoed by the media. Typical of these was a feature in the Globe and Mail in late January headed “Seals Making Comeback, Scientists Believe.” It began: “Today seals are blanketing beaches and ice floes of eastern Canada in huge numbers and the situation is prompting fishermen to call for annual seal kills to keep populations in check.” The balance of the piece consisted of bald assertions by Fisheries’ officials, bolstered by statements from an organization calling itself the Canadian Sealers Association. Funded by a $500,000 grant from the Newfoundland government and $50,000 from federal sources, the CSA’s professed task was “to put pressure on the Government for a regular seal cull.”
Fisheries spokesman Yvon Bureau was quoted to the effect that “Canadian seals eat about four million tonnes of fish a year, an amount equivalent to the annual commercial catch off Canada’s shores.” No scientific basis was given for this fearsome figure; the kinds of seals involved were not specified; nothing was said as to whether or not the fish supposedly consumed were commercially useful, or even whether they were eaten in the Atlantic, Pacific, or Arctic Oceans. Typically, and despite its headline, the article made no reference to the conclusions of seal scientists, including the government’s own Dr. Sergeant, who denied the charge that harp seals had any significant adverse effect on Canadian fisheries.
As February began, de Bané’s spokesmen announced that the 1984 spring “cull” would proceed as planned, and that Carino had again agreed to buy at least 60,000 skins, none of which would be whitecoats. There was reason to believe, although proof was lacking, that Carino was to be directly subsidized this time with government funds.
At the end of February, only a few weeks before the “cull” was due to begin, the IFAW dropped another blockbuster. Davies announced that, unless the hunt was halted, a second boycott of Canadian fish products would begin—this time, in the enormous U.S. market. Five million direct-mail kits were ready to be sent to U.S. consumers, each of whom would be asked to return a protest card to major food companies currently using large amounts of Canadian fish. Prominent amongst these were the McDonald’s and Burger King chains.
This time the threat was taken seriously, and it brought considerable dissension into the Canadian Cabinet, where both the Minister of External Affairs and the Minister of Trade counselled putting an end to the seal hunt once and for all. With fish sales of well over a billion dollars now at stake, de Bané began finding himself more and more isolated.
The battle in Cabinet raged for several days, and it was only the knowledge that there would be a federal election in the latter part of 1984, and that the ruling Liberal Party would desperately need every seat it could get in the Atlantic region, that persuaded the majority of Cabinet ministers to let de Bané have his way.
He was now making increasingly inflammatory statements. “Those who resort to lies and blackmail,” the press reported him as saying in reference to the protesters, “are the most despicable criminals I can think of, and seeing them trying to destroy the livelihood of our fishermen is another crime that they will have to bear.” To buoy the sealers’ flagging enthusiasm, he announced that a new market for sealskins was being sought in Japan, and strongly intimated that the price of seal pelts would again be subsidized by government agencies.
Perhaps his most intemperate statement was made on March 8, when he insisted that the EEC ban was redundant, because the killing of whitecoats was already at an end; then he concluded with the warning, “Let’s not forget who we are dealing with [in the protest movement], we’re dealing with blackmailers, with liars, with fanatics, so obviously no rational argument can convince fanatics, people I would call fascists!”
The following day, with the seal “cull” about to begin, he told the House of Commons he had assurances from all major fish buyers in the United States that they would not succumb to pressure for a boycott on Canadian fish products. Having once again denied that any whitecoats had been killed in 1983, or would be killed in 1984, he reiterated his charge that the protesters were liars. Oddly, neither the Minister nor any of his officials was able to name a single foreign company that had given an assurance it would continue to buy Canadian fish in spite of any boycott. On the contrary, two more major food chains in Britain were on the point of removing Canadian fish products from their shelves.
Even the Minister’s closest allies were now beginning to desert him. The chairman of the British Columbia Fishing Association, which had been vociferously backing the sealers, telexed de Bané urgently asking him to prohibit the taking of all seal pups of whatever age, because the boycott in Britain was already affecting export sales of canned B.C. salmon. Even the Canadian Sealers Association, all too unhappily aware that the income of the majority of its members came mainly from the export trade in fish, now bit the hand that fed it and suggested that the Minister forbid the further killing of all seal pups. De Bané angrily rejected both requests.
On March 9, he was betrayed again. On that day, the IFAW helicopter made a sortie from Prince Edward Island almost to mid-Gulf to check reports that Magdalen Islanders were again killing whitecoats. It was a long flight for the Jet Ranger carrying three photographers in addition to its pilot. By the time the machine turned for home, it was low on fuel. A decision was made to refuel at the Magdalen Island airport.
The landing was uneventful, but the agent of the Esso station there refused to supply the aircraft. When five bystanders approached the helicopter, threatening it and its occupants with lengths of 2 x 4, the pilot hurriedly took off and flew to an ice floe offshore, from whence he radioed a report of the incident to the Department of Transport authorities, requesting that an escort be provided for the hundred-mile journey over ice and water back to Prince Edward Island.
Federal Transport officials replied that arrangements would be made with the Quebec Provincial Police on the Magdalens to ensure safe refuelling there and the pilot was told to proceed back to the Magdalen airport. Having no real alternative, he did so, to find two unsympathetic policemen making no attempt to control a mob of thirty or more Madelinots. Fuel was again refused, and when some of the local men began pounding the sides of the helicopter, the crew abandoned it to seek shelter in the terminal building. Here they were besieged for several hours. They were finally permitted to leave the island in a chartered local aircraft, but only after the film and tape they had taken that day had been surrendered to the crowd.
The Jet Ranger remained behind. Although nominally protected by eight provincial policemen and five RCMP constables, it was nevertheless severely damaged during the night. During the succeeding night, a crowd of at least a hundred men and youths swinging chains and wielding iron bars attacked it yet again, effectively destroying the $350,000 machine, together with some $25,000 worth of camera equipment.
Despite the fact that several of those who helped trash the helicopter freely admitted their involvement to the press, almost two months elapsed before the police laid any charges. Then, on June 9, fifteen men were accused of mischief, intimidation, and the theft of an emergency radio beacon from the aircraft. All pleaded not guilty and were ordered to appear for a preliminary hearing in September.
The reaction of Mr. de Bané to this incident was one of gentle forgiveness. “I understand very well the reactions of our fishermen who have seen their livelihood endangered by people who come and protest one week during the year... and live the rest of the year in luxury hotels on the money they have collected from the general public.”
The reaction of much of the rest of the Western world was, however, one of outrage. In Ottawa, more Cabinet ministers leagued themselves against Fisheries and Oceans, trying without success to persuade the intractable de Bané to call off the hunt. Supported by the Prime Minister, he would not be moved. According to an observer, even the usual arguments in support of the hunt, such as the need to reduce seal populations for the sake of the fishery, had been superseded. “The ministers were told that the protest had to be defeated because the government could not afford a precedent where the wishes of outsiders could override internal departmental decisions. To put it another way, we could not afford to admit that Fisheries was in the wrong so there was no way we were going to back down.”
That Fisheries and Oceans was indeed deeply in the wrong became shockingly clear on March 16, when Dr. David Lavigne, who had conducted seal population and other studies for the federal Fisheries department, was interviewed by a newspaper reporter. Asked if whitecoats had been killed in 1983, Lavigne drew the reporter’s attention to a report compiled by Fisheries and Oceans officers in Newfoundland that listed 5,609 whitecoats as having been sculped that year, together with about 35,000 beaters and 25,000 adults.
This revelation exposed the loophole in the EEC ban. Although the 5,609 were pups of an age that in any previous year would have been classified by both NAFO and Fisheries and Oceans as whitecoats, they had been reclassified as “overgangs,” “tanners,” or “raggedy-jackets.” Unfortunately for Mr. de Bané, somebody had failed to instruct the St. John’s officials of this cosmetic change.
The bleak truth was that, despite the new nomenclature, Canadian sealers were continuing to sculp baby seals under three weeks of age, most of them not even weaned and still in the process of moulting their all-white neo-natal coats. As for beaters—this is a generic term embracing all young harps between about three weeks and a year in age; many of the beaters killed in 1983 were little if any older than three weeks. And the seal-hunt protesters devised a bitter little riddle after this denouement. “When is a whitecoat not a white coat? When de Bané says it’s not.”
In response to another question, Dr. Lavigne gave it as his opinion that “The bulk of misinformation that has come out in the past two years [about the hunt] ha
s not been from the protesters.” Truly a masterpiece of understatement.
De Bané’s position continued to worsen. On March 20, Ron Bulmer, president of the powerful Fisheries Council of Canada, whose member companies account for more than 90 per cent of Canada’s fish exports, renewed a request that Canada forbid the killing of all baby seals. “The times are changing,” said Mr. Bulmer.
Indeed they were. A Department of Trade assessment of the probable effects of an IFAW-sponsored boycott in the United States was, to say the least of it, unsettling—particularly in view of the fact that the Canadian fishing industry was already experiencing severe marketing problems due to other factors. The destruction of the IFAW helicopter under the eyes of Canadian police, coupled with confirmation that it was Fisheries and Oceans, not the protesters, that had, to put it politely, prevaricated about the continued killing of infant seal pups, was doing nothing to soothe public opinion either at home or abroad.
Although the governing Liberal Party still found itself in a state of indecision, the opposition Conservative Party had apparently seen the light. Its fisheries critic now asked Parliament to declare a total prohibition on the killing of all seals under a year of age. “It is time to admit,” said he, “that the anti-seal hunt protest has too much momentum, the public relations battle has been lost and it is time to ban the killing of immature seals.”
He was, of course, ignored by the government in power. On March 17, Fisheries officers under questioning by a New York Times reporter on Prince Edward Island admitted that indubitable whitecoats, only a few days old, were even then being killed at the Magdalen Islands. A spokesman for the department claimed these were being killed for food, and not for sale. Moreover, he pointed out defiantly, it was not illegal, nor had it ever been, for Canadian sealers to kill whitecoats if they so desired.
