1 Introduction
The unfinished revolutionâthe Niger Delta struggle since 1995
Cyril Obi and Temitope B. Oriola
Since the early 1990s, the Niger DeltaâNigeriaâs major oil-producing regionâ has been roiled by an âunfinished revolutionâ. This is linked both to unfolding social contradictions in Nigeriaâs petrolized political economy, and the changing dynamics of local resistance initially sparked off by a small ethnic minority group, the Ogoni, which pitched itself against the might of the Nigerian federal state and some of the most powerful oil multinationals in the world, particularly Royal Dutch Shell. A lot has been written about the struggle which came to a head in January 1993 with the successful mobilization of hundreds of thousands of Ogoni villagers by the Movement for the Survival of Ogoni People (MOSOP) against Big Oil, and the eventual decision of Shell to withdraw from Ogoniland following local and international pressures (Obi 2000, 2009a, 2010; Pegg 2015; Watts 2015). Two years later the Nigerian state then led by the military stepped up the suppression of the Ogoni uprising by executing the Ogoni Nine,1 including the charismatic and globally recognized, but no less controversial Ogoni environmental rights activist and writer, Ken Saro-Wiwa, followed by the pacification of Ogoni protests by the Nigerian military.
At the peak of the Ogoni struggle, Saro-Wiwa and his supporters in MOSOP had successfully grafted local grievances against the Nigerian state and Shell onto global human and environmental rights discourses, waging one of the most successful non-violent campaigns in the twentieth century against a transnational corporation and its partner-state (Obi 2009a; Ako 2015). At the time, the âMOSOP revolutionâ, using a human rights-based approach to environmental protection (Ako 2015: 625), had blocked Shell operations locally and mobilized international opinion against the company and the Nigerian state, threatened to upturn the local and global orders of control, extraction, accumulation, with no more than non-violent local peopleâs power, and connecting them to global allies, spaces, discourses and opportunities (Obi 2009a). It heralded, and set off successive waves of spectacular forms of local resistance and globalized protest against oil exploitation and environmental pollution in the worldâs major cities, and other oil-producing regions of the developing world. MOSOP successfully framed its case against Shell and the Nigerian state within the framework of environmental justiceâseeking redress for decades of exploitation and pollution, or what it termed an âecological warâ against the Ogoni people (Obi 2010: 227â228; Ako 2015: 627â628).
At home in Nigeria, the Ogoni uprising, particularly its two key documents: the Ogoni Bill of Rights (OBR) and the Addendum to the Ogoni Bill of Rights (MOSOP 1992; Obi 2010), sparked a renewed debate on self-determination of ethnic minorities and the resolution of the national question in Nigeria. It revived age-old questions of the place and unjust treatment of ethnic minorities in Nigeria that had been pushed to the backburner by the countryâs military rulers since the end of Nigeriaâs civil war in 1970. Ogoni women and youth groups also played key roles in mobilizing grassroots support for the actualization of the goals of the OBR, particularly womenâs rights (see Babatunde in this volume). Beyond this, MOSOP sought international legitimacy for the OBR by connecting its demands to wider global self-determination discourses, and the struggles of other oppressed minorities or indigenous peoples in other parts of the world (Obi 2009a, 2010). It joined groups such as the Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization (UNPO), and used such global platforms to make itself visible, while also expressing solidarity with other marginalized groups across the world.
This period also coincided with the time the successor states to the former Soviet Union were throwing off the yoke of Russian hegemony and asserting their autonomy and freedom. MOSOPâs campaign radically altered the relationship between a small community, the Nigerian state and transnational oil corporations, and represented a radical shift in the trajectory of the historic struggles of the ethnic minority groups of an oil-rich, but impoverished Niger Delta region. The attempt to reorder local power relations, and force a shift in the power relations between a small community and a huge multinational symbolized the onset of a revolution within an oil-rich state.
It was hardly surprising that this uprising threatening the local and global orders of oil power and hegemony was eventually met with state-led force, subverting the course of what was arguably moving in the direction of radical change in the Niger Delta. While the Ogoni ârevolutionâ differed from an earlier attempt by Adaka Boro and his co-travellers to challenge the prevailing order in the 1966 â12-day revolutionâ (see Nyiayaana, and Ayoyo and Oriola in this volume), in that it was non-violent, it met a similar fate in the hands of a Nigerian state, keen to forcibly reopen access to oil in Ogoniland, deployed military troops to reassert its control of the oil in the Niger Delta, and set an example to other ethnic minorities thinking of following MOSOPâs example. The story of the execution of the Ogoni Nine on 10 November 1995 following their trial and pronouncement of a guilty verdict by a special court put together by the military regime of General Sani Abacha in spite of global appeals for clemency is too well known to be discussed in much detail here. It is important to note that while it halted the MOSOP-led Ogoni uprising, the genie of local resistance had escaped, and some of Saro-Wiwaâs last wordsâsuch as âLord take my soul, but the struggle continuesââstill resonate over two decades later.
Other ethnic minority groups appear to have taken off from where the MOSOP revolution was stopped in its tracks (see Oyewole, and Nwobueze and Okolie-Osemene in this volume). While the Ogoni had âgone it aloneâ, globalizing their struggle, but not partnering with neighbouring ethnic minority groups within the Niger Delta (Obi 2006: 25â28), other ethnic minority groups, nonetheless, learnt certain lessons from what happened to MOSOP. This had implications for the struggles that continued against the Nigerian state and transnational oil corporations after 1995. Thus, within the same decade, the ethnic minority Ijaw youth moved to the vanguard of the struggles of the ethnic minorities of the oil-rich Niger Delta region just as Nigeria was concluding a political transition from military to democratic rule (Obi 2006: 30; Ukiwo 2007; Obi 2009b, 2010: 228).
The local and global terrains of the Niger Delta struggle had been somewhat altered within a few years after Nigeriaâs return to democratic rule in 1999. Locally, the return to democratic rule opened up the political space to members of the Niger Delta ethnic minority elite to seek, attain public office and access state power and resources. In global terms, international civil society retreated, and moved on to other global trouble-spots believing that constitutional rule would guarantee respect for human rights and a political context within which Nigeriaâs numerous civil and national questions could be resolved (see Nyiayaana in this volume; also see Ukiwo 2007 and Obi 2009b, 2010).
However, the initial euphoria that had met the election of indigenous governors in the states of the Niger Delta soon gave way to frustration and anger, following the growing realization that the old grievances and demands of the people were not being addressed by the newly elected politicians running the various governments (Obi and Rustad 2011: 8â9). The militarization of the region since the early 1990s, and the inter-communal conflicts across the region had cumulatively resulted in the emergence of generations of alienated young people, who have a deep sense of grievance, and entitlement to a share of the oil wealth produced from their region. The young people have also been socialized into the use of violence as a means of livelihood, and modality for making claims on local authorities, oil companies and the state (Ikelegbe 2011; Obi 2006: 33; Watts 2007; Ukeje 2011; Watts and Ibaba 2011; Eke 2015).
The persistence of military occupation after the transition to democratic rule did little to alter the status quo, even as some of the youth found temporary employment and access to guns and money in the camps of local politicians. Those who had formed themselves into gangs were initially co-opted into networks of political elites from the Niger Delta that were equally keen to ride on the popular frustration and anger of the people (Obi 2010: 224), which they took advantage of to negotiate, and extract concessions and resources from the federal government and oil companies. Some observers have argued that following the disengagement of youth gangs who had helped some politicians win elections, members of such armed groups had to look for new livelihoods, or causes in the militarized oil-rich, but impoverished region. Given the charged atmosphere and the high stakes in gaining access to power and oil wealth, there were very few options. Some of them chose to ride on the complex trajectories of a Niger Delta struggle which had long gone past a non-violent phase underlined by mixed motives (Watts 2007: 652; Ikelegbe 2011; Oriola 2013; Ebiede 2017: 1197). As Ako (2015: 626), notes, the post-Saro-Wiwa phase of the Niger Delta struggle was characterized among others by the âabandonment of a human rights approach to environmental protectionâ (Ako 2015: 626).
Thus, dozens of locally rooted insurgent groups emerged in the Niger Delta and construed themselves as part of the age-old social movement for ethnic minority and environmental rights, and resource control. While the Nigerian state was able to cripple MOSOP, co-opt some Ogoni elites, and severely limit the organizationâs capacity to mobilize Ogoni people against the stateâoil partnership, it has not been able to completely rein in the disparate ethnic minority militia groups that followed MOSOP (see Okorie, and Oriola and Adeakin in this volume). Therefore, rather than non-violent protest, the trajectory of the revolutionary momentum has since come to reflect a lethal and complex mix of violent, insurgent and opportunistic activities: kidnapping of oil workers, illegal âoil bunkeringâ (or theft of crude oil from oil pipelines/installations), destruction of oil infrastructure, and vigorous media campaign against the Nigerian state and transnational oil corporations (see Ayoyo and Oriola, and Oriola and Adeakin in this volume; also see Ikelegbe 2011; Obi 2014: 255â256; Schultze-Kraft 2017: 622â624).
It marked both a shift from non-violent, to violent engagement, and the privileging of the use of armed violence as a modality for staking claims and negotiating power in a field increasingly characterized by the blurring of lines between the ideological, expedient and violent/criminal activities contributed to a sharp decline in oil production and exports (Boas 2011; Duquet 2011; Ikelegbe 2011; Obi and Rustad 2011: 3; Oriola 2013; Oriola et al. 2013). The trajectories of violent conflict in the Niger Delta have also impacted the management of Nigeriaâs petro-economy. It can be argued that in spite of state efforts to manage or resolve the petro-violence in the Niger Delta, the contradictions within the countryâs petro-economy have continued to fester since 1995, with adverse implications for Nigeriaâs capacity to transform its oil wealth into real developmental dividends (see Oyefusi in this volume).
Of note among the insurgent groups was the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), a sophisticated, but amorphous collectivity formed by leaders of several insurgent groups largely associated with ethnic Ijaw militias (Okonta 2006; Ukiwo 2007; Obi 2010; Oriola et al. 2013). Unlike MOSOP, MEND had no identifiable leader, and often communicated using a faceless operative âGbomo Jomoâ making it difficult to single out one individual as the arrowhead of the movement. MENDâs emergence in 2005 marked the entry of erstwhile local resistance groups into the performative fray marked by intensified kidnappings, oil theft and car bombings (Oriola et al. 2013). The Nigerian military was unable to inflict a decisive defeat on MEND, whose familiarity with, and knowledge of the difficult terrain of the Niger Delta, sophisticated weaponry and fighting tactics, including its wide range of operations, proved to be a major obstacle as its hit-and-run tactics reduced daily oil production and continuously bled the oil industry and was economically ruinous. The level of threat posed by militant groups compelled the Obasanjo administration to assuage the feelings of disenchantment in the Niger Delta by ensuring the nomination of Goodluck Jonathan as running mate to presidential candidate, Umaru YarâAdua. Jonathan became president in 2010 following the death of YarâAdua. Many Niger Delta militants believe that their violent struggle ensured the political reconfiguration of Nigeria, which made possible the presidency of Goodluck Jonathan (see Oriola 2013). Several Niger Delta militants became government contractors and security consultants under the Jonathan administration (Oriola 2013). This process of co-optation ensured a modicum of peace although violence occurred sporadically.
This violent campaign continued until 2009 when a Presidential Amnesty Programme (PAP) primarily targeting MEND militia (after reaching a stalemate militarily on both sides) bought some respite to the volatile region. However, this effort to buy off militant resistance only yielded limited results in spite of the huge costs involved (Obi 2014; Agbiboa 2015; Eke 2015; Ebiede 2017). Barely five years later, the emergence of another group, the Niger Delta Avengers (NDA) in 2016 (and several breakaway factions soon after) and the resumption of armed attacks on oil industry assets and security forces in the Niger Delta (see Oyewole; Okorie; Oriola and Adeakin; Nwobueze and Okolie-Osemene in this volume), represented a major setback for the PAP and transnational oil alliance in an era marked by oil price collapse and economic recession. The struggle continues to this day, but the terrain, actors and tactics have evolved since 1995.
It is important to note that this is not simply another book about the man Ken Saro-Wiwaâat least not in the sense that most of the writing that followed his âjudicial murderâ over two decades presents the issues around his life and legacy. Rather, this edited collection of essays focuses on the reflections and research of mostly emerging Nigerian scholars on the complex trajectories of ethnic minoritiesâ struggles in the Niger Delta after the execution of the Ogoni Nine. The Ken Saro-Wiwa-led MOSOP revolution is treated more as a watershed event that birthed two epochs, the one immediately after the executions, and the other since the PAP, in which the state has grappled with the direct and indirect fall-outs of the oil-related conflict in the ethnic minority region. It interrogates the social movements and militias that have animated the struggles of the ethnic minorities of the Niger Delta, and the changes and continuities in the ways such movements have engaged and continue to engage each other, local communities, the Nigerian state and transnational actors. This implies unpacking the most recent aspects of the evolving petrolized political economy, socio-economic trends and conflicts, and how they speak to the issue of an unfinished revolution.
The scope of the book
The Unfinished Revolution in Nigeriaâs Niger Delta: Prospects for Environmental Justice and Peace pays critical attention to the most recent drivers of the struggles of the ethnic minorities in the Niger Delta since Saro-Wiwaâs execution in 1995: the shifts from local engagements, the evolving character of key actors and social forces and the ways the stateâoil alliance is responding to popular demands. Several of the chapters seek to unpack the most recent phase of state response(s) to the mutations in local engagements, ethnic minority groups/militias, including the combination of state violence and patronage, the establishment and gradual unravelling of the PAP, and the recent resurgence of low-intensity sporadic armed militancy led by the NDA, among others.
Beyond this, the book interrogates the complex dimensions of the evolving nexus among democratic governance, the struggle for self-determination, resource control, socio-economic development, environmental justice and peace in the Niger Delta. Given the current state of no war, and no peace in Nigeriaâs oil-producing Niger Delta region, it is clear that the revolutionary fervour that took hold of the region in the early 1990s, though in retreat, has not completely disappeared. Though clearly eclipsed by episodic outbursts of violent insurgency, military repression and expedient political settlements involving various opportunistic actors, including militia leaders that have been co-opted into the stateâs patronage network, the underlying causes of the Niger Delta crises are far from resolved, pointing both to the unfinished state of the revolution begun over two decades ago, and the struggles between those seeking to extinguish its flames, and others seeking to fan its dying embers.
The chapters that follow raise questions linked to the history, pathways and implications of the unfinished revolution in the Niger Delta. What factors explain why the local uprising against global oil and military dictatorship floundered in the mid-1990s, and how did this shape the movements that âreplacedâ MOSOP as the vanguard of the Niger Delta struggle? In what ways have they built upon, or deviated from the Ogoni path to self-determination, and to what effect? How has the Nigerian state responded to the struggles in the Niger Delta? What factors have shaped its responses? How will the gradual unravelling of the PAP deal between the federal government and local militia commanders, and the emergence of new ethnic minority militias in the Niger Delta impact development, peace and security in the region, and internationally? How best can the ongoing realignment of social forces in the Niger Delta be located within the dominant power relations in the region? W...