A BRIEF HISTORY
OF ODESA, OR
THEREABOUTS...

Odesa is the city where the steppe crashes into the sea, and sarcasm meets sunshine. From Paleolithic hunters dreaming of mammoth BBQ to Romans grumbling about the lack of olive groves, from the Ottoman Hadjibey to a modern port with a beachfront view—Odesa has always been a magnet for adventurers, runaways, and dreamers. Greeks, Scythians, Jews, Cossacks, Germans, and who-knows-who-else have mingled here, finding common ground over a jug of wine or a hearty dose of humor. This isn’t your dusty encyclopedia; it’s a cocktail of facts, wit, and Odesa’s unique charm, served to show why this city isn’t just a dot on the map but a whole universe where, even in the darkest times, there’s always a spark of light.

Ancient Times:
From Early Humans
to Greek Colonists

Millions of years ago, long after dinosaurs went extinct and humans were just learning to kindle fire, our ancestors were already bustling about on the territory of modern-day Odesa. Archaeologists have uncovered Paleolithic human settlements — imagine finding an old campfire from your great-great-grandparents’ picnic, but without the plastic bottles. Around 40,000 years ago, the first traces of Homo sapiens appeared in these parts, hunting mammoths and dreaming of the warm Black Sea.

Then, in the 7th–6th centuries BCE, ancient Greeks sailed in. Their homeland in Greece was as crowded as a modern rush-hour bus — too many people, too little land. So, they established colonies all along the Black Sea, including settlements near what would become Odesa, like Tyras or Nikonion. These were traders and adventurers, building cities with sea views, swapping olive oil for Scythian grain.

Between the Greek period and the Roman era, it’s a total blur. Historians throw up their hands: “We don’t know what was going on, and if we did, we’d tell you, but we don’t…” Maybe the Scythians were throwing parties with nomads, or everyone just took a smoke break from history. No records, as if someone deleted the file from the hard drive.

Roman Era and
the "Dark Ages"

In the 1st century CE, the Romans, those eternal conquerors, made their way here. They built fortresses and roads to control trade — think of them as ancient Amazon logisticians, but with swords instead of drones. In 106 CE, when Emperor Trajan conquered Dacia (modern-day Romania), the region became part of the Roman Empire. There were camps of “ancient Italians” — Roman legionaries and colonists from Italy, who probably tried planting olives in the black soil and grumbled sarcastically: “Where’s our Colosseum? Just steppe and mosquitoes!”

After the fall of Rome in the 5th century CE, the “Dark Ages” set in again — Huns, Slavs, and nomads came and went like guests at a wedding where no one remembers who invited whom. The region turned into a thoroughfare for tribes, with few permanent cities.

Middle Ages and
the Ottoman Empire

By the 13th–14th centuries, the area fell under the control of the Golden Horde, then the Crimean Khanate. In 1415, the Ottoman Turks seized these lands and built the Hadjibey fortress — as if the Ottoman Empire decided to open a branch of its “imperial business” with a sea view. Hadjibey became a port trading salt, fish, and slaves, while the locals — a mix of Tatars, Turks, and Slavs — learned to live in multinational chaos.

A turning point came in 1789, when Russian troops under Suvorov captured Hadjibey during the Russo-Turkish War. Russia was expanding south, like an empire “updating its wardrobe” at the neighbors’ expense. Catherine II renamed it Odesa in 1794, after the ancient Greek Odessos — the irony being, this wasn’t a “revival of antiquity” but simply seizing someone else’s land.

Russian Empire:
A Colony of
Adventurers

From the start, Odesa wasn’t a typical Russian city but a colony on conquered land, like Russia founding its own “Las Vegas” in the south. It was built by anyone with a sense of adventure: runaway serfs (fleeing landlords like a bad job), fugitive Cossacks (wild cowboys of the steppe), German sectarians (Dukhobors and Mennonites escaping religious persecution), exiles from St. Petersburg (like Pushkin in 1823–1824, writing poetry and chasing women), and Jews, whom tsarist Russia deemed “second-class” and confined to the “Pale of Settlement.” Add Greeks, Armenians, and Italians — Odesa became a melting pot, where all nationalities and religions learned to coexist, communicating in a mix of languages, like a modern chat with auto-translation.

Key years: 1794 — founding; 1803 — porto-franco status (a free port, like a duty-free zone for smugglers). The city grew like yeast, thanks to grain exports — the empire’s “breadbasket.” World-famous figures were born or lived here: for example, the father of Soviet cosmonautics, Sergey Korolyov (born in Zhytomyr in 1907, but began his aviation career in Odesa in the 1920s, getting his “ticket to the skies” in a local hydro-aviation unit). Or poet Anna Akhmatova (her ancestors from Odesa) and writer Isaac Babel — all adding charm to this multinational cauldron.

Revolution,
Civil War and
Early USSR

1917 — the October Revolution reached Odesa, plunging the city into chaos. The Civil War (1918–1921) turned Odesa into a “criminal paradise”: gangs, smugglers, speculators — like a set for a gangster movie. Whites, Reds, Greens, and Petliurists swapped control four times! This birthed Odesa’s image as a city of swindlers and humorists — thanks to Babel and his “Odesa Stories” with their colorful bandits.

But in the USSR, Odesa became as gray and poor as other cities — factories, ports, five-year plans. The humorous “Odesa accent” (often Jewish) was kept alive in films like *The Golden Calf* or *Twelve Chairs* by Ilf and Petrov (both Odesites, 1920s). Yet the Jewish population dwindled: the first wave of emigration came in 1905 after pogroms (when the tsar introduced a “constitution,” and the mob took it as a signal to rob Jews).

World War II
and Late USSR

Tragedy: 1941 — Germans and Romanians occupied Odesa. The city heroically resisted for 73 days but fell. The Nazis and Romanians carried out the Holocaust — the second wave of Jewish exodus, with thousands perishing or fleeing. This is no place for jokes: mass shootings, ghettos, deportations to Transnistria. Odesa lost a third of its population, including nearly its entire Jewish community.

After liberation in 1944, reconstruction followed. In the late USSR, Odesa was a resort and port but with a “faceless” identity. The third wave of emigration came in the late 1980s when Gorbachev allowed Jews to leave for Israel — the “Iron Curtain” cracked open, and people rushed for a better life.

Independent
Ukraine:
Separatism,
and War

1991 — the USSR collapsed, and Odesa became part of independent Ukraine. It turned into a trading hub: a port in the center, beaches next to shipping containers — like sunbathing by an Amazon warehouse. Its multinational character endured: Ukrainians, Russians, Jews, Moldovans, and Bulgarians lived in peace, finding common ground in business and humor.

The fourth wave of Jewish emigration hit in the 1990s, to Israel and the US — the city lost part of its “soul,” but the image of “jolly Jewish Odesa” lived on in Russian cinema.

2000s: Russia, under new leadership (from 2000), decided to “reclaim colonies” — like an empire nostalgic for the old days. Money and agents flowed into Ukraine, targeting Russian-speaking regions (thanks to the imperial legacy, where Russian displaced Ukrainian as the dominant school language). In Odesa, they funded separatist parties — but mostly bribed criminals and corrupt officials, like hiring “actors” for a bad play.

Key years: 2013–2014 — Euromaidan, the Revolution of Dignity in Kyiv (protests against corruption and a pro-Russian president). Russia annexed Crimea (2014) and started the war in Donbas, creating “DNR/LNR.” In Odesa, an attempt to establish an “Odesa People’s Republic” failed — the tragedy of May 2, 2014, when clashes led to a fire in the Trade Unions House, claiming lives.

2022 — Russia’s full-scale invasion, the largest war in Europe since WWII. Odesa endured rocket and drone strikes, its ports blocked, but the city held firm. What’s next? Unknown, as the war continues in 2025. Yet Odesa remains a symbol of resilience: a city where different peoples find common ground, even in the storm — like a big family that argues but never splits apart.