When Oil Was Worth More Than Lives: Britain’s Role in the Biafran War

On 6 July 1967, Nigeria descended into one of Africa’s most brutal post-independence conflicts. What began as a political crisis quickly turned into a humanitarian catastrophe: the Biafran War, otherwise known as the Nigerian Civil War. Over the next two and a half years, more than a million people—mostly civilians—would die, not just from bullets and bombs, but from starvation and disease. While many remember the war as an internal Nigerian affair, few are taught the full extent of foreign involvement. In particular, Britain’s role was far from neutral. In fact, Britain did not merely look away; it helped fuel the fire in a bid to protect its precious oil interests.

This article explores how Britain, alongside other European powers, played a decisive role in the Biafran War.

Colonial Seeds of Division

To understand the Biafran War, we must first understand the complexities that marked Nigeria’s formation. In 1914, Britain’s Lord Frederick Lugard amalgamated the Northern and Southern Protectorates of Nigeria into one colony. Why? The Northern Nigeria Protectorate had a budget deficit while the Southern Nigeria Protectorate had a surplus. Thus, the merging made sense from an economic standpoint.

British colonial authorities paid little regard to the deep cultural, religious, and political differences among Nigeria's diverse regions. The north was dominated by the Hausa-Fulani, the southwest by the Yoruba, and the southeast by the Igbo. Under Lord Lugard and his successors, Christian missionary activity was deliberately limited in the north, which remained predominantly Muslim, while the southern regions became predominantly Christian due to more extensive missionary engagement. Moreover, Northern Nigeria was nearly four times the size of the south, a fact that significantly influenced postcolonial power dynamics.

In 1946, the British colonial government further divided Southern Nigeria into 2 regions: East and West. Meanwhile, the North remained undivided and still held dominance both in landmass and population. A decade later, Shell-BP—a joint British-Dutch venture—discovered oil in commercial quantities in Oloibiri, a town in the then East region. And by 1958, the company had exported the first shipment of crude oil from Nigeria. 

Up until the discovery of oil, mineral royalties were fully allocated to the region where the resources originated. However, the emergence of petroleum as a major economic resource prompted a revision of the revenue allocation system. Under one such scheme, 50% of oil revenue was allocated to the region of origin, 20% to the Federal Government, and the remaining 30% distributed among the other regions. This marked the beginning of a gradual centralization of resource control, with significant political implications.

Oil was quickly recognized as a far more promising resource than other minerals, with the potential to reshape Nigeria’s economic future. Regions with greater political influence within the Federal Government often secured a larger share of national revenue. As a result, competition among regions intensified, each seeking more control over the growing oil wealth. When Nigeria gained independence in 1960, it did so under the strain of these deep-seated regional and economic divisions.

Tensions exploded after a 1966 coup led by Major Nzeogwu, an Igbo officer, overthrew the central government. The coup was followed by a counter-coup and a wave of anti-Igbo massacres in the north, killing tens of thousands. In response, the Eastern Region, led by Lt. Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu, declared itself the independent Republic of Biafra in May 1967. What followed was a war marked by air raids, sieges, and widespread famine. 

Britain’s Real Interests: Oil and Influence

At the heart of Britain’s involvement was oil. By the time Biafra declared secession, Shell-BP controlled 84% of Nigeria’s total oil production, which averaged about 580,000 barrels per day. Britain was the largest buyer, importing about 40% of that oil. But there was a problem: two-thirds of Shell-BP’s operations were in Biafra’s new territory.

The Biafran government wasted no time, demanding £3.5 million in royalties from Shell-BP for the first half of 1967. Shell-BP considered paying. British legal advice even suggested the payment could be defensible under international law, since Biafra was in de facto control of the territory.

But London was alarmed. If Shell-BP paid Biafra, it would lend legitimacy to the breakaway state. Worse still, it could provoke Nigeria into a full blockade. Britain advised Shell-BP to hold off, though the company did transfer £250,000 in a token gesture. The British government immediately pressured Shell-BP to cease operations in Biafra and resume royalty payments to Lagos. When Biafra responded with threats, the British media painted Ojukwu as irrational and unreasonable.

Britain was particularly concerned about Nigerian oil because they could no longer rely on the Middle East for oil. The Suez Crisis and Arab oil embargoes had made Nigeria’s crude oil essential. British officials estimated that losing access to Nigerian oil could reduce supply to Western Europe by 5%, and there was no way Britain would let that happen.

How Britain Armed One Side

Britain claimed neutrality but continued supplying arms to the Nigerian federal government. Throughout the war, Britain supplied them with weapons, armoured vehicles, and aircraft, often under the radar. Meanwhile, Shell-BP made sure not to pay Biafra another penny.

According to declassified documents, British diplomats deliberately downplayed or dismissed reports of civilian casualties. When relief agencies tried to highlight the scale of the humanitarian disaster in Biafra, they were accused of bias or manipulation.

The media also faced pressure. Journalist Frederick Forsyth, appalled by what he witnessed, resigned from the BBC when he realised his reports were being censored. He would later write novels inspired by the war.

Meanwhile, the Biafran leadership turned to public relations. They hired PR firms in Europe, circulated images of starving children and compared their suffering to the Holocaust. The photos made the rounds in Europe and America, fuelling outrage and sympathy. But governments were unmoved. Ultimately, strategic interests trumped morality.

The Roles of France, Portugal and Israel

Not all of Europe sided with Nigeria. France, ever eager to curb British influence in Francophone-majority West Africa, supported Biafra quietly. French company SAFRAP, which held 7% of Nigerian oil production at the time, saw opportunity in the East. Biafra promised a slice of Shell’s assets if it succeeded. French arms, advisors, and aircraft flowed to Biafra from Gabon and other French allies. A Paris Match article called it an "open secret". Yet France maintained plausible deniability throughout.

Portugal took things further. Lisbon allowed Biafra to use airstrips and ports in São Tomé, Portuguese Guinea (now Guinea-Bissau), and even Lisbon itself. Despite not officially recognising Biafra, Portugal’s Salazar regime offered quiet but vital support in the form of transport, refuelling stations, printing of Biafran currency and even financial aid. In one case, a Portuguese vessel delivered over 2,600 boxes of currency and coins to Biafra in 1970.

Wharton, an American arms dealer, coordinated flights from Lisbon to Biafra. His ‘Phoenix Airlines’ ran clandestine arms deliveries, sometimes as many as four flights a night, under the radar. São Tomé’s airport became the lifeline of the rebellion. Between 1968 and 1969 alone, it handled over 8 million kilograms of cargo, and the number of flights soared to over 6,000 annually.

Israel, meanwhile, gave moral support and humanitarian aid but kept official involvement minimal. For a country founded in the shadow of genocide, Biafra’s suffering resonated deeply, though the Israeli government later walked a fine diplomatic line to avoid offending Lagos. The Soviet Union aligned with Britain, backing Nigeria to extend its Cold War footprint.

The Human Cost of the War

By the time the war ended in January 1970, Biafra lay in ruins. Between one and two million people had died, many of them children who succumbed to kwashiorkor and other diseases caused by malnutrition. Relief efforts were slow, disorganised, and often blocked by Nigerian authorities wary of foreign interference.

And yet, Britain continued to deny any responsibility. Prime Minister Harold Wilson famously downplayed the scale of the famine, reportedly claiming it was "propaganda". His government ignored calls from aid agencies and members of parliament who demanded an arms embargo.

Britain’s priority was not the preservation of life but the preservation of Nigeria—as a united market and a steady oil supplier.

Remembering Biafra Honestly

55 years later, Britain’s role in the Biafran War remains largely absent from mainstream narratives. Schoolbooks skip over it. Public debates rarely mention it. Unlike its involvement in Kenya or India, Britain’s actions in Nigeria during the war have never faced serious public scrutiny.

Why? Because it disrupts the carefully curated image of Britain as a reluctant colonial power that left Africa peacefully. The reality, that Britain prioritised oil over lives, is far too uncomfortable. Even more uncomfortable is the fact that few in Britain were ever held accountable.

The Biafran War is often remembered through the lens of tribalism, ambition, and political chaos. But that version of the story is incomplete. The truth is that European powers—especially Britain—shaped the course of the war more than most are willing to admit. It was not just a Nigerian tragedy. It was an imperial one too.

To truly honour the memory of those who died, we must tell the full story. Biafra must not be remembered solely as a failed secessionist bid. It must also be remembered as one of the most manipulated wars in Africa’s modern history, another tale where European hands helped turn a political crisis into a catastrophe.