The World : Nigeria Must Face the Music: Its Oil Must Be Embargoed

Three months ago, a U.S. embargo against Nigerian oil imports was not even on the policy-option table. Today, this drastic, albeit overused, sanction is under serious consider ation as one of the remaining options the United States could pursue to dislodge the repressive military government of Nigerian Gen. Sani Abacha. Everything else--cessation of foreign aid, diplomatic castigation and outright threats--has failed.

The international community’s apparent toleration of continuing human-rights

abuses in Nigeria is incomprehensible. Nigeria is Africa’s most populous nation. It has the potential of being both a regional and continental military power.

Following Libya’s decision to restrict its oil production in 1973, Nigeria became Africa’s leading producer of petroleum. Since the Arab oil embargo in the ‘70s, it has consistently weighed in as the second- to fifth-largest supplier of crude oil to the United States, accounting for about 10% to 18% of U.S. imports. Petroleum and its related products account for more than 85% of Nigeria’s foreign earnings.

There is a long history of foreign exploration and exploitation of Nigeria’s oil reserves. Multinationals are present in a big way. Royal Dutch Shell, British Petroleum, Elf Aquitaine and Agip Francaise are among the major players. American oil companies--Chevron, Mobil, Texaco and Ashland--provide the largest portion of fixed U.S. investment in Nigeria. Also, most of the major oil-field service and supply firms are doing business in Nigeria as well.

In light of Nigeria’s human-rights crisis, this cozy relationship between U.S. oil interests and the highly nationalized Nigerian oil industry is especially disturbing. By omission, if not commission, the companies have traceably dirty hands in the repression of Nigeria’s pro-democracy movement. Their connections to the government have been so close that Abacha gave them a special paean in his Aug. 17 address, in which he unilaterally suspended striking Nigerian oil unions.

U.S. companies defensively assert that their interests are purely commercial. They claim that showing sympathy for the pro-democracy movement could result in retaliatory measures against them by the Nigerian government, to the advantage of British, French and Asian oil concerns. Good business, they say, means not interfering in Nigeria’s internal affairs. This casuistry has provided a convenient cover for their inaction in the face of brutal repression, but their continued acquiescence makes them as culpable as their Nigerian benefactors.

Once it became clear that the Nigerian government was pursuing a program of corruption and tyranny, U.S. oil companies could have reacted by becoming responsible corporate citizens. The industry should have recognized that it was in its own best interest to oppose Abacha. Not only would it have earned the goodwill of Nigeria’s pro-democracy movement, the industry could have been a standard-bearer of responsible corporate conduct in the developing world.

When the National Security Council signaled that an embargo of Nigerian oil, perhaps accompanied by the freezing of Nigerian assets, may be in the offing, Abacha’s reaction was typically arrogant: There are more American assets in Nigeria than the other way around. Thus, multilateral compliance with a U.S. embargo will be necessary to exert effective pressure on Abacha.

One of the paradoxes of Nigeria’s political crisis is that an oil embargo could be the one measure that preserves the country’s valuable but fragile petroleum industry. Given the downward economic spiral caused in no small part by the government’s corruption, repression and inefficiency, oil production could see further declines. It may only be a matter of time before a pumping station or storage facility explodes, spreading substantial and, perhaps, irremediable financial loss to the infrastructure and operation of foreign companies. If U.S. companies are not seen as part of the solution, they will be seen as part of the problem by the pro-democracy forces who, if left unattended, have no stake in the presence or profits of unsympathetic foreigners.*