Now's the Time to Divest From Shell

Rarely is human society graced by a person whose heroic courage and raw emotional power move so many people that he threatens to crumble the walls of injustice. Three years ago, the free world was shocked when the Nigerian military dictatorship executed one such hero, the Ogoni Nigerian Ken Saro-Wiwa. The Ogoni people of Nigeria live in an oil-rich and once-fertile land, but they are a national minority susceptible to governmental abuse.

Since 1958, Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria has conducted extensive oil drilling operations that have yielded 900 million barrels of crude oil from the land in which they live, known as Ogoniland. The World Bank reports that Nigeria suffers about 300 major oil spills a year, turning the "breadbasket of Nigeria" into a blackened and largely infertile wasteland.

In 1990, the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP) formed to protest these conditions, with Ken Saro-Wiwa as its leader. The peaceful resistance movement sought to raise awareness of the plight of the Ogoni and Ogoniland. It was through this movement that Saro-Wiwa earned his global reputation as a peaceful demonstrator for human rights and environmental responsibility.

The military dictatorship responded to the resistance with brutal violence. The Summer 1993 issue of Earth Island Journal reports that a single Ogoni demonstration in 1990 resulted in the destruction of 495 homes and the murder of 80 people by the Nigerian Mobile Police. Since then, scores of villages have been raided and hundreds more Ogoni murdered. Ogoniland has been shut off and placed under martial law.

Shell stands inextricably tied to these events. In a 1996 article in Tell magazine, Claude Ake alleges that the company "[bribed] officials to terrorize environmental and human rights activists in the oil-producing communities."

Violence by the government escalated after Shell expressed concern over its stability. A memo from the Rivers State Internal Security Task Force, dated May 12, 1994, states: "Shell operations [are] still impossible unless ruthless military operations are undertaken." The memo also recommended the "wasting" of Ogoni leaders.

Ten days later, on May 22, 1994, Ken Saro-Wiwa was arrested for the alleged murder of four Ogoni activists, charges so ridiculous that Amnesty International declared him a "prisoner of conscience"--a person held captive for his political beliefs. Saro-Wiwa was tortured and held without trial or medical attention for several months. On Oct. 31, 1995, after an unfair trial, Saro-Wiwa was sentenced to death. He was executed on Now. 10, 1995, despite calls for clemency from the international community.

How is the notorious history of the military dictatorship of Nigeria connected to the ivy-covered walls of prestigious Harvard? Shell's economic support of that government, combined with its active lobbying for repression of the Ogoni, binds it to the shameful execution of Saro-Wiwa. And a report of the Security and Exchange Commission discloses that the President and Fellows of Harvard College have invested $34 million in Shell.

The charges leveled here are serious. Harvard has invested a large amount of money in a company whose actions are antithetical to the principles of social justice. With the actions of Shell and the reputation of Harvard in mind, I call on the Corporation to sell all shares of Shell stock.

At the heart of the divestment issue lies the question of what role Harvard has in the world. Is this University an educational institution, a part of the struggle for social justice, or a corporation? In most of its operations, the University can act out all of these roles without suffering an identity crisis. But the question of divestment from Shell pits Harvard's interest in social justice against its mission of profit-making and endowment growth. The Harvard community should decide which mission will take priority.

I stand behind the mission of social justice, because it is more integral to Harvard's educational goal. A divestment of $34 million will probably have no serious economic repercussions for Harvard. But the University seriously compromises its educational mission by sponsoring repression and environmental damage in Ogoniland.

As an educational institution, Harvard is dedicated to the development of ideas. Political repression, which seeks to stem the flow of ideas, directly contradicts this mission. Implied in protecting the development of ideas is protecting the people who develop those ideas. The intellectual community, therefore, becomes critically weak if it allows the silencing of dissent.

Some see a gap between the political movements of a largely agrarian minority in Nigeria and the academic environment of a university in the United States. But as members of the intellectual community in a technological age, we cannot tolerate the silencing of any human being any more than we can tolerate the silencing of any member of the Harvard community.

By investing in the political repression of the Ogoni people, Harvard weakens its educational mission and contributes to social regression. I ask the Corporation to remove this ugly stain from our intellectual community and our legacy, to wash our hands of the deplorable execution of the modern hero Ken Saro-Wiwa and to divest all $34 million from Shell.

Shai M. Sachs '01 is a resident of Leverett House.