By DAVID M. MALONE
Saturday, October 1, 2005 Page D15
The Politics of Bones: Dr. Owens Wiwa and the Struggle for Nigeria's Oil
By J. Timothy Hunt
McClelland & Stewart,
389 pages, $ 36.99
In this skillfully written book, many -- perhaps too many -- strands jostle for 
the reader's attention: the politics of development in an oil-rich nation; the 
local practices of large multinational companies; the colourful but often 
violent recent history of Africa's most populous nation; and a story of personal 
tragedy, flight and survival.
When offered the opportunity to review a book largely set in Nigeria, I leaped 
at the chance. During my teens, just after Nigeria's murderous civil war broke 
out in 1967, my parents moved to its often squalid but exciting capital, Lagos, 
and remained there for three years, long enough to see out the war. We loved the 
country, its people and its outsize personalities, its cultural preoccupations 
(in those days often riffs on British culture) and its monumental ego. 
Corruption then reigned on a more modest scale than it does today. Nigerians in 
their rich diversity -- from the handsome, quiet, dignified, mostly Muslim 
populations of the North to the ethnically fragmented, dynamic, fun-loving, 
entrepreneurial Christian and animist peoples of the sub-Saharan South -- 
challenge blithe judgments.
In the immediate post-colonial era, hopes were high for Nigeria. But deft 
paragraphs in this volume suck us into the downward spiral initiated by 
political instability and mass killings leading to the devastating Biafran civil 
war and resulting, two decades later, in one of the most corrupt and inept 
governments ever to afflict Africa, that of General Sani Abacha, during which 
much of the action detailed in the book takes place in the early 1990s. Military 
dictatorships, ethnic violence and the pauperization of a once-rich country amid 
the staggering wealth of the economic and political elite all marked this 
descent into a national hell. Today, Nigeria is known unenviably as Ground 
Central for financial Internet scams.
The book focuses on Owens Wiwa and his wife, Diana. Wiwa was the brother of Ken 
Saro-Wiwa, a charismatic leader of the Ogoni people, hanged by Abacha's regime 
in 1995 on murky charges of political murder. In fact, Saro-Wiwa's own execution 
remains today the most spectacular political crime in Nigeria's annals.
Tens of thousands of Ogoni inhabit a relatively small region of Nigeria's 
oil-rich southwest, deriving very little benefit and much environmental damage 
from the resource wealth pumped from beneath them. Saro-Wiwa, a brilliant 
speaker and advocate for his people, articulated a strong redistributive message 
that threatened not only Nigeria's brutal and massively crooked regime, but must 
also have been unsettling to oil companies that had accommodated themselves to 
doing business with whomever was in power.
Saro-Wiwa's ideals and ordeal are well known to Canadians through his son, Ken 
Wiwa Jr., who wrote a moving book of his own on these events, In the Shadow of a 
Saint, and who is also a columnist for the Comment pages of The Globe and Mail.
The crucible of Ogoni discontent, beyond the Lagos regime and its associated 
local agents, was the Royal Dutch/Shell oil company, which, ultimately, would 
learn a harsh lesson in the wake of Saro-Wiwa's execution: that its purported 
belief in "quiet diplomacy" to address Saro-Wiwa's prosecution was completely 
inadequate to the threat to his life, to the expectations of activists around 
the world and to the values of many of its shareholders. That Western 
governments also did too little to save Saro-Wiwa (having recently intervened to 
save the life of former Nigerian president Olusegun Obasanjo, today again 
Nigeria's President, democratically elected this time around) does little to 
excuse Shell's obtuseness in this particular instance.
While Saro-Wiwa, others of his family, his fractious political allies and many 
other figures (including that Canadian national icon, Flora MacDonald, in a fond 
cameo) teem throughout the pages, the narrative fastens onto Owens and Diana. 
Why? The author, Timothy Hunt, a Toronto journalist, tells us what terrific 
people they are, and this clearly is true. Further, they immigrated to Canada 
and live among us today, welcome additions to our country.
But does this work as a literary device? In this case, it does not. Hunt, 
tremendously skilled at pacing and depicting a complex flow of events, succeeds 
less well in portraying Owens, a very private man, I surmise, as an individual 
in full. This human-interest hook thus proves a weak anchor in the maelstrom of 
his fascinating narrative. The pithy title, incidentally, refers to Owens Wiwa's 
brave and determined struggle to recover his brother's remains for proper 
burial.
Under cover of war, the Ogoni people suffered considerably, initially at the 
hands of the dominant Igbo tribe pursuing secession of the country's southwest, 
but eventually also at those of victorious federal troops and officials. 
The violence and indignities to which his family and community were subjected 
awoke in Ken Saro-Wiwa a reasoned, literate and passionate militancy that 
animated him until his execution. It focused not only on abuses by officials, 
but also on the oil industry. While Shell, the principal foreign oil company 
active in Nigeria through the years covered by this book, increasingly engaged 
in community outreach and support activities, these were dwarfed by the profits 
extracted from the region and, in any event, as recognized by the company 
itself, mostly swallowed up by official corruption.
The Nigerian civil war and Saro-Wiwa's advocacy attracted early attention to the 
risk that the presence of natural resources in Africa could undermine rather 
than promote development. Today, the study of "resource wars" in Africa is a 
growth industry. The role of oil and mining companies in the development (and 
war) dynamics in Africa remains highly controversial today. 
Lloyd Axworthy was an early champion of greater government attention to 
oversight of such activity. Several Canadian companies have demonstrated real 
leadership under the banner of corporate social responsibility, but overall much 
remains to be done. The Kimberley Process, bringing together relevant 
governments, the international diamond industry and civil society to discourage 
the sale of "conflict diamonds," points to the type of international regulation 
that could one day extend to financially more significant extractive industries. 
But the vast sums involved means that such efforts will be strongly resisted, as 
British Petroleum discovered when it undertook to publish all of its payments to 
the government of Angola some years ago, only to run into Angolan threats and an 
early lack of solidarity from other oil companies.
While the government of Nigeria is today in much better hands, particularly on 
foreign policy, the drama continues. On Sept. 22, more than 100 armed militants 
attacked a Chevron oil platform in the southern Niger delta, in apparent 
response to the arrest of an ethnic militant leader for treason.
J. Timothy Hunt's labour of love and admiration for so many of this book's 
protagonists provides for riveting reading. He leaves us wanting to know more. 
This is a fine tribute to his achievement.
David M. Malone is assistant deputy minister (global issues) with Foreign 
Affairs Canada, and the author of Boom and Bust: The UN Security Council and 
Iraq, 1980-2005, to be published in 2006.
Click here to return to ShellNews.net HOME PAGE