Empire of Oil and World Crisis in Oil: Harvey O’Connor. Monthly Press Review, New York. $5.00 and $7.50 372 pp. and 432 pp.

These two books can best be regarded as practically two volumes of the same work. In “Empire of Oil”, first published in 1955 and now reprinted, Harvey O’Connor, a former editor and research worker of the American Oil Workers’ Union, traces the rise of the great international oil cartel of seven Companies.footnote* “World Crisis in Oil” deals with the impact of the cartel on the oil-producing countries of Latin America and the Middle East, and was first published this year. The theme of the second work is therefore the same as the first, but there are nonetheless significant changes in emphasis. In 1955 the power of the cartel was at its height: it controlled over 90 per cent of all oil produced in the West outside the US itself; it was unchallenged in the control of markets in the great consuming countries of western Europe and their dependencies. It had, with the help of CIA, just brought down a government in Iran which had dared to nationalize its oil industry and, with a pliant government in power, was busy re-establishing the western commercial way of life in the oil fields. Harvey O’Connor, an American radical who has attracted the witch-hunters’ attentions and who knows what the inside of a federal gaol is like, saw only gloom when he surveyed the oil scene in 1955, with the cartel companies in an almost impregnable position, subject only to occasional sniping from small US companies limited to domestic fields and markets, and excluded by the cartel from access to the lusher hunting grounds abroad.

In 1962 this picture, although still true in outline, was substantially altered. For the first time for half a century, the power of the cartel had suffered some major set-backs. “World Crisis in Oil” chronicles these defeats, as also occasions when the cartel companies have still, when challenged, been able to maintain their grip (e.g. Venezuela).

The earliest set-backs came in the Middle East. Here the Egyptian nationalization of the Suez Canal was crucial. The canal had been linked with the oil business since the early days of the century, and by 1956 some 70 per cent of canal revenues came from oil companies. More significantly, however, the position of the oil companies rests ultimately on the power of the West—and in the last analysis the power of the West to take military action. If Britain and France had not resorted to military action, but had accepted nationalization with a few face-saving glosses the lesson would still have been there, if not so dramatically. As it was, Britain and France did their utmost in support of a western company in a country regarded as virtually a British province for 80 years. Their defeat and Egypt’s triumph have been an unseen presence whenever an Arab oil minister and a company official have sat down together to negotiate. Slowly but surely the power and influence of the cartel has begun to wane. Iraq has established the right to market some at least of her own oil, and in June, 1961, signed a longterm agreement with East Germany. Independent marketing companies in western Europe, notably in Italy, have given some assistance to countries like Persia and Arabia which have been trying to produce and sell oil independently of the cartel. Undoubtedly, the cartel’s iron grip on the main markets of Western Europe has been a major brake on the ability of Middle Eastern producing states to free themselves from its control.

A large section of the book deals with Latin America. It is not often realized now how much the oil companies contributed to the final break between the US and Cuba. For the first 18 months of the Castro regime the State Department played a watching game; it was only after the Cubans nationalized the oil refineries that the US really began to turn the heat on. The cartel, of course, not only stopped all sale of oil to Cuba, but used its control of tanker fleets to prevent two enterprizing small American companies from stepping into the breach. Washington obediently fell into line and American diplomats throughout the world exerted maximum pressure to prevent any country with “independent” oil such as Mexico, from selling to Cuba. In addition, practically all other was stopped, and by the early autumn of 1960 Cuba faced economic isolation. Then began what Mr. O’Connor correctly calls “the great ‘waterlift’ from the distant Black Sea comparable to the airlift organized by the West for Berlin in 1948”. There can, of course, be no doubt that it was Russian assistance that saved Cuba from economic paralysis, especially as far as oil was concerned, in 1960–61. But it is interesting to notice the sequence of cause and effect. After all, as Mr. O’Connor points out, it was not in fact in the interests of American capitalism generally that Cuba should be forced into economic and military dependence on Russia. If this happened, the only way of removing Castro was to be by military action (and we know what in fact happened to that). The Cuban affair was yet another, and particularly dangerous, instance of State Department policy being directly conditioned by oil company pressure. The book is filled with dozens of other examples. O’Connor notes, for instance, that one of the latest of the numerous foreign aid banks that spring to life in Washington, the Inter-American Development Bank, purportedly in the hands of Latin Americans themselves, has a firm rule: no aid for national oil companies, such as exist in Brazil and one or two other minor producing countries. In fact, whereas the State Department will often put cold war requirements above the sectional interests of particular companies (e.g. as in its “liberal” policies in South and Central Africa), the oil companies nearly always get the policies they want, there and then. This offers a lesson that can be vitally useful in assessing American policies in the Middle East and Latin America.