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Unformatted text preview: NOTICE This material may be protected by copyright law (Title 17 US Code) COVER STORY .__.__-__~~__._._.._. ._ _., “"7 \__— N“ RELUCTANT Can’t shut down Big Oil ? Then browbeat companies like Shell and ExxonMobil into preaching the gospel of h uman rights and democrag to their developing—world hosts. As appealing as this strategy seems to global do —gooders, it won’t work. Not only are oil companies unsuited “hm” m for the job of turning the world’s most difficult neighborhoods into retormMShall thriving market democracies, thy ’re increasingly adept at passing “Wm” “3 the buck of reform to others. By Marina Ottaway in Nigeria 44 Fourum PM In " ““" ' Copyfight© 2001 All Rightsfiéérved ———————-—————————- . M1 SSIONARIES eginning in the late 16th century, Euro- pean countries found a way to extend their global commercial and political power on the cheap: They granted charter companies monopolies over trade in desig- nated areas and in return required the businesses to establish and maintain order there. Charter companies played an especially important role in the expansion of the British Empire, opening up North America for settlement and conquering India and Southern Africa before disappearing in the 19th century. " Co'pyngh't © 2001 All RIgfi'tE Rgervea These companies had enormous powers. The 1621 charter of the Dutch West India Company gave it the right to “make contracts, engagements and alliances with princes and natives of the coun- tries...and also build forts and fortifications there, to appoint and discharge Governors, people for war, and officers of justice, and other public officers, for the preservation of the places, keeping good order, police and justice." Together with such powers, however, came escalating demands for moral responsibility. Missionaries insisted that the companies had the duty to facilitate the spread of Christianity, while many politicians expected the political values of their country to follow trade. The powers of the East India Company, declared British statesman Edmund Burke, “have emanated from the supreme power of this kingdom. . . . The responsibility of the Company is increased by the greatness and sacredness of the powers that have been intrusted [sic] to it.” It was thus proper, he concluded, that the governor of the East India Com- pany should be hauled in front of “the supreme royal justice of this kingdom” and held accountable for his actions in India. Unexpectedly, the charter com- pany concept is reemerging. At the forefront of economic globaliza- tion, transnational corporations, which have long pursued their :‘business in developing countries with little oversight by weak local governments and even less by the international community, are being targeted by modern-day mission- aries in the form of human rights Manna Ottaway is a senior associate at the Carnegie Endowment for Interna- tional Peace and redirects its Democ- racy and Rule of Law Proiect. M M606“!!! )un’ l Avcun 2001 45 Reluctant Missronarles Size tlm Nthlll A (lame; crlultratex tln: winning ol I .1NigerianManila]inbuilt and refurbished by Shell and environmental nongovernmental organizations (NGOs). The idea that corporate economic power entails political and moral responsibility is also gain- ing acceptance in some Western governments. Petroleum companies—large, highly visible, and often active in countries with undemocratic gov— ernments and dismal human rights records—are under especially strong pressure to promote reform in exchange for the privilege of making money. Oil companies are being told not only that they must behave according to international human rights and environmental norms, but that they must become agents of change by putting pressure on host gov- ernments to improve their own practices. Consider Shell, which has extracted oil from the delta region of Nigeria since 1937. The company originally operated in the typical manner of the time, with little regard for the impact of its operations on the local population or the environment, and it got away With it. (An oil company official privately describes these early business practices as the “United 46 Fnurllm l’ul It \ Copyrigfit'©?00'1'All Rights Reséfved Fruit model,” a reference to the US. commercial behemoth the United Fruit Company, which held sway over large chunks of Central and South Amer- ica for more than half a century.) Today, a chastised Shell makes considerable efforts to help the local population and limit env1ronmental damage. Huge " problems still exist: routine gas flarings (byproducts of drilling), frequent oil spills, and severe poverty. Nevertheless, even Human Rights Watch, one of Shell’s harshest critics, admits that “development spending by the oil companies has also brought schools, clinics, and other infrastructure to remote parts of the country that might otherwise be far more marginalized by the Nigerian government.” Yet Shell remains a beleaguered company, closely scrutinized and constantly criticized by NGOs. Its installations are routinely sabotaged by groups with political agendas, by local people trying to make a liv- ing from siphoning off and selling oil, and by local entrepreneurs trying to increase the demand for the cleanup services they offer. When sabotage leads to fires % Collateral damage; In lllgenanan attempt ‘. ‘ by locals to steal gasoline caused a pipeline lEXUlGSlOll that killed more than - 500 people once/tome”. 10? WILXV 0' “It mmuu mvllm‘ main" 0' “III “I! mu! RTE. mm WA" WM? that cause large numbers of casualties, NGOs hold the company responsible. And when Nigerian securi- ty forces dispatched to protect oil installations commit human rights violations, the company is also guilty. In the most infamous case to date—the execution in 1995 of Ogoni activist Ken Saro-Wiwa and other members of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People—NGOs accused Shell of complicity with the Nigerian military government. Meanwhile, critics dub Shell’s programs to help local communi- ties insufficient or inappropriate. For example, NGOs accuse Shell and other companies of destroying the environment and the health of the local population by flaring gas. Because some NGOs believe that all mining hurts rather than benefits developing coun- tries, the groups also oppose a plan to capture the Rent-a~cops: A Sudanese [MM military group assgned to guard an all field and pipeline gas and pipe it to Ghana, where some of it would be used to pOWer gold mines. No matter what it does, Shell cannot pacify» its Nigerian and international critics, because what theyawant.igbeyondany-sin-r gle actor’s capacity tcrdeliverra-democratic:decen- tralized, efficient Nigeria, respectful of human rights and of the environment. DIFFICULT NEIGHBORHOODS For transnational corporations doing business in developing countries, the rules of the game are changing. But pressure on oil companies—and to a lesser extent mining companies—is particularly strong, all the more so when they operate in Africa, where the imbalance between the wealth and power of the companies and those of the host governments is particularly pronounced. Oil companies are especially controversial and prone to attract the ire of NGOs for many reasons. The companies are big, which for many NGOs automatically translates into bad. Their power and wealth are completely out of scale with those of many oil-producing countries: In 1999, Exxon- Mobil’s revenues totaled $185 billion, while Chad and Nigeria’s gross domestic products (GDPs) equaled a paltry 5L6 billion and $43.3 billion, respectively. Oil companies, because they cannot choose where deposrts are located, often operate in conflict-ridden countries governed by unsavory regimes, made all the more unsavory by oil revenue that encourages government centralization, fiscal irre- sponsibility, extravagant spending, and corruption. Since unexploited oil fields are, by definition, locat- ed in underdeveloped areas, oil companies are also moi‘e'likely to operate in pristine environments and dis- rupt the lives of indigenous people. And because they operate in volatile settings, oil companies become entangled in security operations conducted by their own or by government forces, with all the risks of human rights violations involved in the process. Unlike other extractive industries operating in developing countries (such as copper and cobalt mining), oil companies are household names since they sell directly to consumers through service stations all over the world. As such, they are ripe IUIY I Austin 1001 _ " W All Rights ReseNeU-_‘—' " "w 47 targets for consumer boycotts. In the 19905, human rights and environmental organizations campaigned, albeit unsuccessfully, for sanctions against Shell Over its activities in Nigeria. Public pressure forced Amoco, Texaco, ARCO, and Petro-Canada to with- draw from Myanmar in 1998. (One US. company, Caught between the escalating demands of NGOs and the desire not to hurt the business interests of prof- itable corporations, governments seek compromises. Unocal, chose to stay in the country, but it was forced to take the drastic step of de-Americanizing: In 1997, it sold its service stations and refineries in the United States, eliminating the segment of its business most vulnerable to public action, and opened a twin corporate headquarters in Malaysia.) Consumers are not the only source of worry. Pro- viding as they do a crucial economic commodity, oil companies could easily become targets of govern- ment intervention and regulation. Oil companies themselves are partly to blame for bringing down the wrath of NGOs. Operating free .* i "1.;- l 32 f . -. . 4 l r V].- QMA : Unwanted attention: Human rights actmsts protest ARCO'S mi development and exploration in Myanmar (Burma). of stringent government regulations so far, companies have caused enormous environmental damage in many countries: According to a recent CIA study, companies spilled some 2.5 million barrels of oil in the Niger delta from 1986 to 1996, and they contribute to global warming by flaring large quantities of gas for which they have no market. Their presence disrupts local communities that are not nor- mally consulted (or even informed) about decisions that impact their lives. Even oil com- panies admit that the less rep- utable among them—never their own—encourage government corruption through payoffs. Some NGOs from northern, industrialized coun- tries would like to halt oil production altogether: Since oil and mineral riches in general have proven to be a curse for developing countries, why not leave them in the ground? This position was adopt- ed in April 2000 by a coalition claiming to represent 200 NGOS from 55 countries that is determined to stop all World Bank financing of oil and other min- eral extraction projects. (In fact, the group represents mostly northern NGOs or their branches in devel- oping countries and Eastern Europe.) Such a radical position, however, has little resonance in poor coun- E Reluctant Missionaries fl MIC")! “MINT 43 FOKLIGN Poucv _______.__———-- 4- Copyrig me) 2001 All Rights Reserved tries, where the idea of renouncing oil revenue has no appeal. It is not only corrupt and greedy gov- ernments that want the revenue but also ordinary people desperate for a better life. Nongovernmental organizations hoping to halt oil development in Chad recently found little local support, which com- pelled them to change their tactics and look for ways to channel oil revenue to poor communities. Having grudgingly accepted that oil companies are here to stay, many NGOs now seek to put them to good use. As “organs of society,” such corpora- tions have a “moral and social obligation” to respect the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, argues a recent publication of Amnesty International and the Prince of Wales International Business Leaders Forum. It is not enough that an oil company itself respects human rights, the publica- tion notes. The company must also pressure its business partners and the government of the host country to do the same. Corporations even have the responsibility to resolve conflicts and foster socioeconomic develop— ment, says the International Business Leaders Forum in a second report, The Business of Peace. The oil companies must “proactively create positive socie- tal value by. . . engaging in innovative social invest- ment, stakeholder consultation, policy dialogue, advocacy and civic institution building.” In a similar Big Oil’s To-Do List Global Witness, an N GO based in the United Kingdom, published these recommendations on how companies operating in Angola could help improve the situation there: Oil companies involved in Angola should: I Ensure that, in Angola and in other countries with similar problems of lack of transparency and government accountability, a policy of ‘full transparency’ is adopted. l Establish a formal coalition, which should support IMF attempts to forge transparency and accountability for Angolan Government revenue and expenditure. Specifically, such a coalition should: 1. Immediately undertake a full independent audit of the entire Angolan oil sector, making this a precondition of further investment. 2. The results of the audit must be published, and publicised, in Angola and internationally. 3. Immediately arrange talks with the IMF, the World Bank, U.N. agencies, members of the Angolan Government and representatives of civil society in Angola, the international com- munity and international Kids to form a broad alliance for transparency. 4. Demand proof from Sonangol that it is not breaking the terms of concession agreements for Cabinda and elsewhere. The burden should be on Sonangol to prove it is complying with Angolan law, by opening its accounts to public scrutiny. ; l 5. Publicly support the development of Angolan civil society, and insist that the Angolan Government reSpects its obligations as a signatory to international mnv‘entions, such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. - 5 l Declare their relationship with equity partner companies. The oil companies should refuse to work with companies involved in the arms trade. E I Ensure that oil company social programmes should be independently audited for both financial and social performance, and the results should be published in Angola and internationally. I Immediately declare all payments, such as those deployed for dubious projects such as house recon- srruction, scholarships etc. l l International oil companies and oil refineries, buying Angolan oil cargoes should insist on audit- l ed progress in national transparency, as defined by the IMF. I I Source: A Crude Awakening: The Role of the Oil and Banking Industries in Angola’s Civil War and the Plunder of State Assets (London: Global Witness, 1999) [um I Aucusr 200] 49 ""WZUUTAII Rights Reserved Reluctant Missionaries E for Coon By Bennett Freeman It is not every day that seven giant oil and mining companies, nine human rights and corpo- rate responsibility nongovem- mental organizations (NGOs), and the US. and U.K. govem- ments jointiy acknowledge that “security and respect for human rights can and should be consis- tent.” But that is what happened on Dearnber 20, 2000, when then US. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright and UK Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs Robin Cook unveiled the “Vol- on Security and Human Rights.” I had the privilege of lead- ing this initiative on behalf of the U.S. State Department. Extractive companies and NGOs ind been sparring most of the 1990s over human rights and the industry’s impact on indige- nous We used the convening power of the two gov- ernments to try a different picking the issues—what one participant called the “low-hang- ing fruit”——most amenable to agreement. We decided to focus negotiations exclusively on how to balance the determination of companies to meet real security thrats in- dangerous places with the NGOs’ insistence on respect for human rights. We. avoided the admittedly tougher issues of whether, for example, Premier .BonnettlFremn was a U.S. deputy :Wmofmfitdafioc- rat-3:. hm rights, labor from April 1999 to Jammy 2001. Oil should be in Burma at all, or what Occidental Petroleum’s responsibilities should be with respect to indigenous peoples’ land claims in Colombia. The State Department and the Foreign and Common- wealth Office became involved in this negotiation for two rea- sons. We shared an economic and political stake in ensuring that those companies continued to operate in countries such as Nigeria, Indonesia, and Colom- bia. But we also shared an inter- est in encouraging corporate responsibility to help rebuild the fractured post-Seattle political consensus for globalization. We decided to address three key areas: the criteria that com- panies use to assess the risk to human rights in their security arrangements; company rela- tionships with state Security forces, both military and police; and company relations with private security forces. We also agreed that the principles would be voluntary and nonbinding—anything else would have been a non-starter for both the companies and the governments. The NGOs at the table recognized that proceed- ing on this basis was better than missing the opportunity to develop standards that could become the base line for best practices and further scrutiny. The ultimate challengelayin the actual wording of the announcement. The key verb was “support.” The document had-toallowadegreeortwoof separationso the and NGOs could minimize their respective risks: Companies wor- ried that they could be held liable for implementing even nonbind- ing principles; the NGOs, that their “support” could be com fined as a good housekeeping seal of approval for the compa~ nies. We struggled but found a formula that appealed to most of the companies and NGOs: They would allowustostatethatthey “support this procss and wel~ come these principles.” Media coverage highlighted the unpreccdented willingness of a critical mass of extractive-sec- tor companies to address these difficult issues. Onthe oil side, it was essential to line up Chevron and Texaco (in addition to Conoco) to match Shell and BP on the British side; Chevron and Texaco’s support lent credin- iry—especially important since EntonMobil declined to partic- ipate. Since the principles were first announced, agreement has been reached to invite into the process the half-dozen other gov- ernments and dozen other com- panies that have expressed an interest, laying the basis for a global standard. The “Voluntary Principles on Secm’ity and Human Rights” address narrowly-defined issues, «. and the comminnent of their participants remains untested. But if this process continues and these principles stick, then a small victory will have been won in the struggle to find com- mon pound between business and human rights. The negoti- ation may also serve as a useful precedent as the old diplomacy of governments pinhes into the terrain of the diplo- macy of globalization. 50 FUML‘ICN Poucv Copyright © 2001 All Rights: Reserved CMIISV U 5"!“ 'l mum OMLm-lill wunuv II NICK”! "D vein, the U.K.-based NGO Global Witness pub- lished a report, A Crude Awakening, accusing oil companies in Angola of “paying vast sums (the future development potential of Angola) into a black hole” of government corruption and lack of accountability. Global Witness issued a series of recommendations [see box on page 49], including that corporations should encourage transparency by demanding the Angolan state oil company Sonan- gol open its accounts to public scrutiny and prove it complies with Angolan law. THE BUCK STOPS NOWHERE Caught between the escalating demands of NGOs and the desire not to hurt the business interests of profitable corporations, governments seek compromises. The US State Department and the British g0vemment are pushing voluntary guidelines developed in con- sultation with human rights organizations and mining and oil companies, including Shell, Texaco, Chevron, and BP [see sidebar on opposite page}. The guidelines require that the companies conduct a study of demo- cratic and human rights conditions as part of their risk assessment, that they ensure the security measures they take to protect their installations comply with inter- national law and do not violate human rights. and that " " CopyngfiT© 2001 All Rights Reserved they monitor human rights violations by the state security forces protecting their installations. Such compromises, however, are rare. More often than not, governments try to split the difference between NGOs and big oil—and in the process end up pleasing neither. The Canadian oil company Tal- lihl} ml .im! min-i antmulg the mmmunrnt in Tum. Nigeria isman Energy Inc. learned that lesson when it decid- ed to invest $350 million in Sudan. The Bentiu oil fields, where Sudanese reserves are concentrated, are located in the worst possible area for a country divid- ed hy a civil war: in the south but close to the north- ern border, which means that southern insurgents insist the oil belongs to them. but the northern gov- ernment controls the area. After years of unsuccess- ful attempts to find oil companies willing to work in such an explosive environment, the Sudanese gov- ernment succeeded in attracting Talisman and the state-controlled oil companies of China and Malaysia to participate in the Greater Nile Oil Project. In july 1999, Sudan began exporting oil through a pipeline to Port Sudan on the Red Sea. Already incensed by the imposition of stricr Islamic law in Sudan, the abuses committed by sol- diers against civilians, and the reappearance of slav- ery, international human rights organizations and church groups were appalled when oil revenue start- ed flowing to the Sudanese government. They Iulv I Aucusi 2001 51 El: Reluctant Missionaries launched a divestment campaign against Talisman to force it to abandon the project. The value of Talis- man’s stock plummeted. The Canadian government sought a compromise: Talisman could stay in Sudan and avoid the imposition of sanctions by the Cana- dian government, provided it took an active role in ending the Sudanese civil war, encouraged Khar- toum to improve its human rights record, and made sure the Sudanese government would use oi] revenue for the benefit of its citizens and not to finance the lutklerlI/m ffl,llll>‘llllll.'~. "immmw: (llllllllldlllfib urlraluiih: lllF,‘ mailjgnmhrm ()l lllltll L000 Illllé: leLJClllll,‘ war. Suspicious NGOs insisted, unsuccessfully, that they should be present when Talisman engaged the Sudanese government on such issues. Talisman had little choice but to agree, but it also hinted, ever so politely, that Ottawa was passing the buck: “We would very much like to see the Canadian govern- ment there...if you’re going to have an effect, there should be a Canadian embassy there." In response, other oil companies are learning the delicate art of passing the buck. Talisman was caught by surprise, with its investments already made, and it was forced to agree to demands it could never satisfy. In Chad and Cameroon, Exxon saw early on what was coming, and it deftly inter- posed the World Bank between itself and the NGOs. 52 FOREIGN Pm u \ As a result, it is the bank that now finds itself in a seemingly impossible situation. Chad, one of the world’s poorest countries, sits on considerable oil reserves. In 1996, N605 discov- ered that Exxon planned to drill for on]. From the NGO community’s pomt of view, the project had two fatal flaws: It would provide a steady flow of revenue to a nondemocratic government, and it would build a pipeline to the coast through Cameroon, which would damage the rain forest r t and its inhabitants while providing revenue to anoth- er less-than-admirable government. , It is not easy to stop a determined oil company, nor is it easy to outmaneuver it. Exxon decided to move ahead with the project but also urged the World Bank to loan Cameroon and Chad the money they needed to pay for their small share of the invest- ment in the project. Although the loans covered a mere 5 percent of the cost, the bank provided invalu- able political benefits by diverting the ire of the NGOs from Exxon onto itself. The result was a complex, three-way agreement between the World Bank, the Chadian government, and a number of NGOs. Under its terms, Chad’s share of the oil revenue is not paid directly to the govern- COPyfigh‘tE'ZUOTAII Rights Reserved ' "'"" WM ment. Instead, some goes directly overseas to repay the loans. The rest is to be spent under the supervision of a nine-member board that includes four NGO repre- sentatives. Even this board has little discretionary power: The agreement stipulates that 80 percent of the money must be spent on health, education, infra- structure, and rural development projects in Chad, 5 percent must return directly to the areas from which oil is pumped, and 10 percent must be set aside in a “future generations" trust, leaving only 5 percent to be spent at the discretion of the board. in addition, an International Advisory Group has been created to “further strengthen the mechanism for moni— toring progress in the implementation of the Projects.” Despite the multiple layers of supervision, it is far from cer- tain that the agreement will work as intended. (Evidence already indicates that some rev- enue has been diverted to purchase weapons). But it is working for ExxonMobil, because the World Bank ‘ now finds itself in the hot seat, bearing the brunt of criticism if money is diverted or the system fails. RETURN OF THE PITH HELMETS Charter companies played a crucial role in the first phase of globalization, opening up the world for trade and establishing empires. For the countries granting the charters, it was a wonderful system, reducing the cost of conquest and administration. For the charter companies it was also a wonderful system, allowing them to earn large profits and wield immense power. (The opinion of the populations where the charter companies operated proha bly dif- fered, but they were never consulted.) The success of the charter companies, however, led to their demise, because even the most cost—conscious governments ultimately concluded that the administration of empires could not be left to private entities. Can private corporations—and oil companies in particular—play a similar role in the'second phase of globalization, combining their entrepreneurial activities with the role of political and moral reform- ers? NGOs clearly believe so. But it is a singularly bad idea to cast oil companies in that role. First, they are not the right organizations for fur- thering moral causes. Oil companies may be “organs of society,” but they are highly specialized ones, and their strengths lie not in devotion to democracy and human rights but in finding, extracting, and distrib- uting oil. Corporations are not above the law and '--———eupyngnro-2001 All Rights RéfiTVEU—‘—’—" moral principles. Oil companies must improve their practices and should be held accountable for clean- ing up their spills, for example, and for repairing the damage they have caused operating in “United Fruit” mode. But taking on the role of imposing change on entire countries does not fit the nature of these organ- izations. Indeed, a recent Shell-commissioned report examining 82 of the company‘s 408 development projects in Nigeria reveals that less than one third of those projects have been successful. If values are imposed from the outside, there is an unmistakable whiff of “white man's burden." Second, the concept of oil-company executives lec- turing developing-country officials on human rights and democratic governance is jarring because it evokes an image from a past that should not be restored: charter- company officials who saw themselves as agents of civ- ilizations in distant countries “not ruled by Christian kings" (as they were described during that era). All that’s missing are the pith helmets. And the problem goes beyond oil company officials. The attempt to couple increased economic globalization with a further glob- alization of moral values assumes that all people of the world share similar “wider values of civil society.” Perhaps. But if these values are imposed from the out- side, there is an unmistakable whiff of “white man’s burden” rather than of universality. Finally, trying to put oil companies in the role of reformers creates a process where nobody wants to take responsibility. The so-called partnership between NGOs, developed countries, and transna-i tional corporations is beginning to look like a game in which each actor tries to pass the hot potato of . reforming reluctant governments to somebody else. Neither the U.S. government, the World Bank, nor ' ‘ the human rights NGOs could convince the military regime in Nigeria to mend its ways in the past and cannot force change in Myanmar or Sudan today. So they saddle the oil companies with the task. And the oil companies are finding ways to pass the burden back. Above all of them, NGOs set unreachable stan- dards, adding to the incentives of all involved to duck the burdens involved in achieving change. Private corporations cannot reform developing- country governments; neither can the governments of industrialized countries, the World Bank, or the )I u I Aunus‘l’ 2001 53 Reluctant mummies 1% NGOs. Much of the change can only come from what to do and to clean up its own act instead— inside, and the process will be slow and convoluted. whether oil spills, the hubris that leads NGOs to Outside actors can help, not by casting themselves as speak for people they never consulted, or policies the agents of civilization and morality, but by them- imposed by the World Bank and bilateral donors selves becoming more moral and civilized. A place to that hurt rather than help. Charter companies belong start might be for each to stop telling the Others in history books, not in the let century. Want to Know More? Scholarship on colonial charter companies has largely focused-on Britain’s East India Company (no). Iwo books thatstandlout include Antony Wild’s The Eastlndia Thule and Capt-- W 1600 (London; HarperCollins, 1999) and John Keay’s The Honourable Company:A ; cf the English East India Company (New York: Macmillan, 1994). . British company claims to be the reborn East'India Company. ItsWeb' site . - contains a brhfihistory of the BIG and links to assorted resources. The of the first gov- ernor general of India, Warren Hastings, has been immortalized in Edmund Burke’s. speeches, which-can befoud excerpted in The Portable Edmund Burke. (New York: Penguin, 1999). His speeches are nombldnotloaly for their attacks on the corruption and rapaciousness of Hastings and the EIC but also for Burke’s emphasis on universal, transnational justice. ' NGOs-have written numerous exposes on oil companies in developing countries. of WWWUWHWWVwWfiNWsOHWW- ties (New York-mitten Rights Watch, 1999) andA CmdeArmkeningflheRbleofabe Oil-WM- isng hflngota’s CivilWarand mphmaaofsmeam lLondon: clot,de 1999). There-has boon no shortage of recommendations, either. A coalition of NGOs advanced a plat- form; calling for the phasing out of oil production altogether. Less radically, the Princeof WalesInter- national Business Leaders Forum called for greater consideration for human rights and the politi~ cal-environment in their reports, Human Rights: Ls-ItAny onourflusimssh in colhboration with . Amnesty International, and The Business ofPeace: The WW“ 4 partnerin conflietpre- vention and resolution. The US. and UK. governments crafted “Voluntary Principles on Security and Human Rights," which a number of oil companies have signed, and which can be found on the us. State Department Web site. . . Tryingto show that it complies with the agreement reached with the Canadian government, Tal- isman Energy Inc. has published extensive guidelines of its own, Corporate Social Responstbduy' ' ‘ ' Report soon—Sudan Operations. I The political economy of oil has become a popular subject. Terry Lynn Karl‘s The Paradox of Oil Remand Peta-States (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997) presents a com- _ prehensive study. The Journal. of Intemafional Affairs devored its Fall 1999'issue to the political economy of energy and contains .a variety of useful articles. For an analysis of how oil resources ' can stymie economic growth, see Jeffrey Sachs and Andrew Warner’s “Naomi Resource Abundance ' and Growth" (DevelopmentrDiscussion Paper 517a, Cambridge: Harvard Institute for . International Development, 11995) and Terry Lynn Karl’s “The Perils of the Pam-State: Refléctions on the Paradox- of Plenty." (loam! of International Affairs, Fall, 1999-)". ))For links to relevant Websites, as. well as a comprehensive index of related FOREIGN POLICY articles, access mint-ounpollcycom. 54 FOIEIGN Poun ‘_— ' ‘ Copyrigfit'© 2001 AllRighfs‘R'eserved ‘ - _ " ...
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