Thursday, December 8, 2005

The deaths were all part of the job.

Chevron paid agents who destroyed villages

COMPANY DENIES RESPONSIBILITY FOR NIGERIAN DEATHS OR INJURIES, SAYING IT PAID ONLY FOR GENERAL SECURITY SERVICESBy Elise AckermanMercury News

The bodies of the dead Nigerian villagers had not yet grown cold when the Nigerian navy captain presented Chevron with a bill: 15,000 naira, or $165 for responding to ``attacks from Opia village against security agents.''

Within 24 hours Chevron paid up. It would be years before the San Ramon-based energy company would acknowledge the role it played in the destruction of Opia and another small village called Ikenyan in Nigeria's oil-rich delta in January 1999.

The receipt for the January 4 army raid, which left four villagers dead and nearly 70 missing and presumed dead, came to light only this summer as part of a federal lawsuit filed on behalf of the victims in U.S. District Court in San Francisco. It is being reported first on MercuryNews.com. The receipt also is among documents obtained by the Mercury News.

Chevron has denied any responsibility for the death or injuries that occurred that day. Charles Stewart, a Chevron spokesman, said the payment to the captain reflected ``a longstanding industry practice of paying a small amount for each day'' to military personnel who protected ``the people and the property of the oil companies located in the Niger Delta.''

The appearance of the receipt comes at a delicate moment for Chevron. The second-largest U.S. oil company is trying to drum up support for its $17 billion bid to buy Unocal, an oil-and-gas exploration company headquartered in El Segundo. Unocal shareholders are scheduled to vote on Chevron's bid on Aug. 10.

Chevron's principal rival in the deal was China's government-controlled CNOOC, that nation's third-largest oil producer. One of the top arguments Chevron's lobbyists have used to persuade members of Congress to side with Chevron is China's human rights record.

CNOOC withdrew its $18.4 billion bid for Unocal Corp. today, ending a politically charged takeover battle that highlighted the United States' growing apprehension about the economic rise of the world's largest country.

CNOOC's retreat clears the way for Chevron, the second largest U.S. oil company, to complete its acquisition of Unocal next week, even though its cash-and-stock offer is currently worth nearly $1 billion less.

Still, Chevron's involvement in the events in Africa are crucial, human rights activists say.
``It's important to look at Chevron's own record, '' said Cindy Cohn, legal director for the Electronic Frontier Foundation, one of several law firms representing the plaintiffs.
``It's important to look at the allegations of this lawsuit against the backdrop of violence and communal unrest in Nigeria,'' Stewart countered.


In a motion requesting dismissal of the lawsuit, Chevron initially cited press reports that Opia and Ikenyan had been destroyed by a rival tribe. But company documents later surfaced describing how the attacks had occurred a day after Opia youths had visited a nearby Chevron rig and demanded compensation.

Such demands have been common since the mid-1990s, as tribal communities around the Delta have sought a greater share of oil wealth and compensation for spoiled fishing areas and blighted farm land.

When oil exploration began in the 1950s, residents hoped for an economic bonanza. But the anticipated boom never materialized. Half a century later, the 20 million residents who live in the Niger River Delta continue to eke out a bleak existence while the oil fields surrounding their communities rank among the top producers of high-grade petroleum in the world.

By the late 1990s, demands for economic justice were being met with violence. In 1995 the military government executed Ken Saro-Wiwa, a prominent playwright and activist with the Ogoni tribe, along with eight sympathizers. In May 1998, Nigerian forces attacked about 100 members of the Ilaje tribe who were occupying an offshore oil platform belonging to Chevron's Nigerian subsidiary. Two protesters were killed and two were seriously injured. Later that year, Ijaw youth began holding oil company employees hostage.

In December, Ijaw activists issued ``The Kaiama Declaration,'' which called on all oil companies to stop ``exploration and exploitation'' activities in Ijaw areas of December 30. ``We are tired of gas flaring; oil spillages, blowouts and being labeled saboteurs and terrorists,'' the declaration stated. ``It is a case of preparing the noose for our own hanging.''

To oil company executives the declaration meant one thing: Get out by the end of December -- or else. Chevron began evacuating staff from Ijaw areas and preparing for mayhem.
That set the stage for the Opia violence, to which Chevron has been connected by court records.
It was at this time, when company leaders expected the worst, that youths from Opia, a community of thatched huts along Robin Creek, decided to press their grievances with a local Chevron representative. Months earlier, they had submitted a list of items, including fishing nets, traps, hooks and other materials that had been destroyed by Chevron's tug boats and floating barges.


Attorneys representing surviving villagers say their clients, who live without running water, electricity and newspapers, did not know about the Kaiama Declaration when they set out for the rig on January 3.

The returning residents found the rig deserted, except for guards who told the youths to leave. ``They rushed at them and they started beating them, you know, and they fell into the river,'' Anthony Lawuru, the chairman of the community, testified during a deposition in April 2005.
Back at the village, there was an urgent meeting.


``We'd been having a cordial relationship even with the security men,'' Lawuru said. A delegation that included women and elders decided to return with the youths to the rig the next day in order to demonstrate that the youths had community support.

The next day, the guards greeted the delegation with gunfire.

Shaken, the villagers returned to Opia. Not more than 15 minutes had passed before a blue-and-white helicopter dropped out of the sky. As it hovered above the center of the village, just below the level of the coconut trees, the helicopter door opened and gunfire sprayed out, according to sworn testimony,

``We were running into the bush, we heard the gun as it was going round,'' Lawuru said.
He estimated the fusillade continued 15 to 20 minutes. When villagers emerged from the bush nearly all the houses in the village were burning. Canoes, fishing materials, boats had been shot up and burned. Lawuru's brother lay dead.


There was panic as villagers rushed to pack their canoes and flee. In the confusion, Lawuru recalled, four boats known as ``sea trucks'' arrived, full of men in army uniforms. ``They did not land before they started shooting,'' Lawuru said. ``Then we started running again. Another round of running.''

The soldiers then moved downstream to Ikenyan.

There, the scene was replayed. In a declaration submitted in federal court in San Francisco, John Ikenyan, the son of the village chief, said a helicopter first appeared over the houses. ``I thought maybe that Chevron was coming to see my father again as they had before,'' Ikenyan said. Women and children waved.

A shot was fired from the helicopter and then another.

Villagers fled to the bush. Their homes were set on fire. The villagers returned and struggled to put out the flames. With no fire engine, no hoses and no pumps their efforts were hopeless. The sea trucks arrived. Once again, the villagers ran for the bush. Ikenyan said his father, the chief, stayed behind and was shot by the riverside.

``I later learned that many people had been killed or disappeared or were wounded at both Opia and Ikenyan on January 4,'' Ikenyan said.

According to Human Rights Watch, a total of four bodies were recovered from the two villages. Sixty-eight people were missing and believed dead.

Barbara Enloe Hadsell, an attorney for the villagers said that in addition to paying the security forces, Chevron loaned them the helicopter that was used in the attack. She said Chevron personnel not only accompanied the soldiers as they flew to Robin Creek but also directed the pilot to ``deviate from his course'' to pursue villagers who were ``getting away.''
``That's complete Chevron involvement,'' Hadsell said.


Stewart, the Chevron spokesman, admits that Chevron's Nigerian subsidiary helped transport the military reinforcements to the rig after gunfire was heard on the radio. Stewart also acknowledged that a Nigerian military officer onboard one of the helicopters ``discharged a gun during flight.''

But Stewart said Chevron did not authorize the weapons to be fired and that it occurred when no village was in sight. ``We are confident as the case progresses, Chevron will be vindicated,'' he said.

A jury trial on the villagers' claim is currently scheduled for the fall of 2006 in federal court in San Francisco.