Blackface Environmentalism: Chevron Meets Al Jolson

Ten years ago Thursday --Nov. 10 to be exact -- writer Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight Nigerian activists were executed as enemies of the state. They somehow imagined they could successfully protest the repression of millions people by a handful of soldiers and a smattering of multinational oil conglomerates. Needless to say, they were mistaken.

To celebrate Saro-Wiwa's quixotic misadventure, Chevron is running full-page advertisements declaring its commitment to bettering humankind. The ads -- which ask if we should worry about "the world" consuming two barrels of oil for every barrel discovered -- feature a bulletin board dotted with a maps, drawings of oil derricks and a cuddly photo of happy-go-lucky Nigerian children mugging for the camera.

The darkies are happy and gay (as they once were at their Old Kentucky Home) because they know the Great Corporate Father loves them. He is concerned with their well-being, and that of the planet. Financial Times in hand, perched on his porcelain throne, he intones, "Inaction is not an option. But if everyone works together, we can balance this equation. We're taking some of the steps needed to get started, but we need your help to get the rest of the way. willyoujoinus.com."

If you're experiencing goosebumps, they're undoubtedly indicative of a healthy appreciation of globalization at its finest.

At the edge of energy's frontier -- or more specifically from inside a Port Harcourt jail -- Mujahid Doubo-Asiri is busy imploring armed followers not to blow the roof of a couple of Chevron oil production facilities. The prospective action threatens some 28,400 barrels a day, about one percent Nigeria's total oil output. It seems the "warlord" spoke too plainly when he called for the disintegration of the government. Lackeys of Chevron and the other companies say Duobo-Asari is running a protection racket and want him to keep his trap shut. He, on the other hand, claims to be fighting on behalf of the Ijaw, the largest ethnic group in the Nigerian delta.

Lord knows the Ijaw help. Most of the delta's 20 million people live in extreme poverty, right alongside an industry that produces billions of dollars in revenue for Chevron, its competitors and a zombie government unwilling to find the money to provide running water or electricity for its huddled masses.

Nigeria is the world's sixth largest oil producer, with oil accounting for more than 90 percent of its income. Yet human rights groups note that in a country where corruption is rife, it is widely understood that a good chunk of oil money ends up in Swiss bank accounts controlled by pilfering officials. Successive strongmen have been loathe to any disruptions of oil flow.

Sadly, the Delta is one of the largest wetlands in the world. The Atlantic Ocean sits at its doorstep and a network of inland waterways crisscross the once fertile region. Oil industry pollution, however, has made fishing lucrative over the years. Essentially, the people have been forced into servitude to the oil companies and slowly being starved to death.

Behind barbwire fences and iron bars, Chevron has operated in Nigeria for almost 30 years. Inside installations spread across the country, bought-and-paid-for police and paramilitaries guard precious corporate assets. Outside, meanwhile, local communities struggle in poverty and squalor, travel in dug-out canoes, sleep in straw huts, and get by without electricity, clean water, roads or health facilities, notes human rights group CorpWatch.

Back at the ranch, Chevron is lauded as a model corporate citizen. Bill O'Reilly, its fearless CEO, is feted with the pomp and circumstance of a feudal lord. Verily he remains the $10 million-a-year flame to which we moths are invariably drawn. The corporation embodies all things bold and beautiful, providing high-paying jobs, comfortable homes, solid moral values and sky-high stock options.

Earlier this year, the San Francisco Chronicle ran a breathless story about Chevron's beneficence toward San Ramon, which in 2002 became corporate headquarters following the oil giant's hair-raising escape from the sinful City. More than the increased consumption and business/property tax revenue generated by an estimated 2,500 employees at Chevron Park, city fathers are ga-ga over the company's "mostly unheralded mostly unheralded contributions to local business, educational and cultural activities" that helped once-sleepy suburb shed the unwelcome nickname "San Remote."

Although short of the tent-city it recently set up for 1,500 displaced refinery workers in Pascagoula, Miss., the company has been awfully busy doing good deeds here at home. The Chronicle reports Chevron spearheaded a fund drive to raise thousands of dollars in corporate donations to save the local library from severe budget cuts. Meanwhile, it's donated about $6,500 a year to fund the San Ramon Senior Center van and given money to support the city's annual Art and Wind Festival, Fourth of July fireworks show and summer concert series.

That's mighty generous for a corporation that enjoyed obscene revenues of $155 billion in FY 2004. Even among clear-eyed detractors, Chevron can seemingly do no wrong. When anti-Iraq War protestors gathered outside the company's pearly gates, they reportedly told the mayor, "Your police are so nice. If we have to be arrested, we'd like to be arrested in San Ramon.''

It's a good thing they weren't Nigerian.

According to a suit filed in San Francisco federal court, Chevron paid soldiers $109.25 a day after they attacked two villages, killed four people and set fire to numerous homes. Stamped with Chevron's logo and the name of its Nigerian subsidiary, the soldiers' invoice surfaced this year as part of a legal action aimed at holding the company accountable for the 1999 attacks. For its part, Chevron acknowledges the bill as a cost of doing business, paying soldiers to guard its facilities in an area purported for "piracy and ethnic combat." A spokesman said the Nigerian government covers the soldiers' salaries but Chevron pays them an additional sum for taking a "hardship" post.

Readers searching for a happy ending will have to wait until oil runs out. Unfortunately, that date with destiny is much closer than we Energy Hogs (as a post-Hurricane Katrina President Bush is wont to call us) are willing, or able, to admit.

It is clear Chevron knows oil production is peaking. Soon, it'll be all downhill from here, right into the abyss. Then, we Americanos will have to hoist our big butts out of our SUV's and pound the pavement, begging cups in hand. Meanwhile, oily egg-zek-u-tives take their ill-gotten gains to Martha Stewart-outfitted off-shore platforms to lavish petroleum-product trophy wives and multi-hued au Peres.

As for Saro-Wiwa's children, they'll just have to keep smiling for the camera and hope the Great Corporate Father doesn't forsake them.

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