Nigerian playwright Ken Saro-Wiwa's execution spotlights the rule of oil in Nigeria. Human rights activists now fear for the lives of other Nigerians imprisoned for challenging the country's politics of oil. PNS associate editor David Bacon writes on labor issues worldwide.

Ever since last week's execution of Nigerian poet and activist Ken Saro-Wiwa, the Royal Dutch Shell Oil Company has been at pains to explain to the world that it urged Nigeria's military rulers not to kill him. The corporation's protestations belie the reality of the role which it and other oil companies play, not only in Saro-Wiwa's case but in all of Nigeria's economic and political life.

Saro-Wiwa had demanded that Shell clean up the area where its wells have polluted the Niger River delta, and use part of the oil revenue to lift the region's inhabitants -- the Ogoni people -- out of grinding poverty. Shell blamed the Ogoni movement which Saro-Wiwa headed for the loss of millions of barrels of oil in the early 1990s.

Challenging oil monopolies is always dangerous business -- especially in Nigeria. Oil rules Nigeria. Through one military coup after another, through civil war and urban unrest, the lifeblood of Nigeria's economy continues to flow up from under the earth and onto the huge tankers which carry it to refineries in New Jersey and California. Over $12 billion in oil is pumped out every year -- 95 percent of Nigeria's foreign earnings -- and most of it goes to the U.S. But instead of lifting living standards, nearly 30 percent of Nigeria's national income now goes to service a foreign debt of over $30 billion, under a structural adjustment program mandated by the International Monetary Fund. The value of Nigerian currency has plummeted as unemployment has skyrocketed.

Behind its military rulers, five companies tower over Nigeria: the British/Dutch Shell, the Italian AGIP, the French Elf-Aquitaine, and the U.S. giants Chevron and Mobil. They operate in partnership with the Nigerian National Petroleum Company, a government-run corporation. Control of the NNPC is rumored to have made General Sani Abacha, head of the country's military junta, a billionaire, and his military associates millionaires. According to Emmanuel Abisoye, a retired general who headed a 1994 investigation into oil-related corruption, "the unwritten code in the NNPC style of management would appear to be everyone for himself and God for us all, make hay while the sun shines, and loot all lootables."

But despite corruption and heavy-handed terror, so long as successive governments have protected the smooth flow of oil and money, the companies have been happy. That began to change last year, in the wake of the election as president, and then the imprisonment, of Moshood Abiola. Corruption and incompetence escalated so far that by the spring of 1994 the NNPC owed its foreign partners nearly $1 billion in operating fees. The companies began to shut the oil rigs down to force the government to pay up.

Nigeria's two oil workers' unions, NUPENG and PENGASSAN, mounted a national strike -- not just to stop the layoffs but to get the debt paid and force the generals to give up power in favor of the democratically elected Abiola. They hoped he would stop the corruption, and use the oil revenue to develop the country.

The strike paralyzed most of Nigerian industry. Government losses in oil revenues were calculated at $34 million per day. Government workers walked out on strike in support. In Nigerian cities, students and others built barricades blocking roads, and were brutally dispersed by troops. Lacking oil to fuel the generators, electric power plants began to stop functioning, and cities began to suffer blackouts. Air traffic ground to a halt as airplanes couldn't be refueled and air traffic controllers joined the protest.

The European oil corporations AGIP and Elf-Aquitaine sympathized with the strikers and cut production to 60 percent of normal. Shell maintained its regular volume. But California-based Chevron, and New York-based Mobil flew in additional foreign workers to keep oil flowing from their wells, and increased production to 120 percent.

Their operations guaranteed continued income, and saved the life of the Abacha military regime. According to PENGASSAN leader Milton Dabibi, military troops occupied the installations at the companies' request. The strike produced windfall profits, when shortages raised the price of light crude oil from $14 to $20 per barrel.

When the generals moved to crush the strike, they arrested NUPENG's president Wariebi Agamene, NUPENG General Secretary Frank Kokori and PENGASSAN leaders Francis A. Addo and Fidelis Aidelomon. They have been in prison ever since, moved constantly to keep their whereabouts secret. The generals took over control of the unions and occupied their offices. No charges have ever been formally made against the union leaders, and no trial has been held. In the wake of the execution of Saro-Wiwa and his associates, human rights activists are very concerned over their fate as well.

Supporters of Abiola have appealed to the U.S. government to freeze the assets of Nigerian generals and companies, and to put U.S. oil payments to Nigeria in escrow. Their list of targets highlights the Bank of America and Citibank, which are tied to Chevron and Mobil respectively.

Supporting their demand is the Oil, Chemical and Atomic Workers Union, which represents U.S. oil workers. According to OCAW vice-president Calvin Moore, "the real question is: whose interests determine U.S. policy -- those of oil companies, or those of the Nigerian people?"