When Nigerians go to the polls this month, not only will they be selecting new leaders -- they will be shaping the destiny of their country, their region and U.S. relations with Africa. No country, except for South Africa, is more important to American interests in Africa. And no election is as pivotal to Africa's political future.

Thirty years ago the Nigerian military government fought to suppress the secession of the Igbo-dominated southeastern region known as Biafra. When the civil war ended in 1970, the government adopted a policy of reconciliation and financed it with windfall oil profits.

Sadly, the road to recovery was more difficult than the road to military victory. Decades later, the country is poor, fragmented and disillusioned from the lethal combination of enormous oil wealth and unaccountable generals who, except for a brief four-year period, have ruled Nigeria ever since.

The military robbed the country's wealth, ruined the economy, impoverished the people, fostered ethnic and religious divisions, intimidated the press, politicized state institutions and executed, jailed and assassinated dissidents. The elections this month are widely seen as a way to break the cycle of misrule and turn the country around.

The current crisis has its roots in the annulment of the 1993 victory of Yoruba businessman Moshood Abiola as president and the resulting takeover by Gen. Sani Abacha. What followed was the most repressive authoritarian regime Nigeria had ever experienced.

Abacha imprisoned Abiola, executed playwright Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight other activists, amassed billions in personal bank accounts and drove Nobel Prize-winning playwright and poet Wole Soyinka into exile with a charge of treason.

The economy sank, crime surged, communal conflict increased, an armed insurgency raged in the oil-producing areas, and bombings, assassinations, torture and extra-judicial killings became common.

'For the moment, Nigeria has pulled back from the brink. Whether, in fact, it succeeds in making a successful transition to a functioning democracy remains an open question.'

The two leading candidates in the upcoming election are both of Yoruba origin and both suffered under Abacha's iron fist. Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, the only Nigerian general to have left office voluntarily, and Chief Olu Falae, a former finance minister, were detained for years.

Abacha died suddenly on June 8, 1998. Within 24 hours, Maj. Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar, another northerner, was sworn in as Nigeria's head of state. A month later, Abiola also died while still in detention. At that point, Nigeria was close to the breaking point.

To his credit, Abubakar acted swiftly. He allowed an autopsy on Abiola with international physicians. He released political prisoners, repealed most of the repressive legislation, announced elections toward a return to civilian rule, and rounded up Abacha's hit men and bag men.

For the moment, Nigeria has pulled back from the brink. Whether, in fact, it succeeds in making a successful transition to a functioning democracy remains an open question.

The elections themselves are embroiled in controversy. Some commentators allege that the party nominations were bought, that the generals are still pulling the strings, and that the election will not change much because, they say, the leading candidate -- Obasanjo -- is backed by the military, controlled by powerful northern politicians and lacks support among his own people. The constitution has not been promulgated. The candidates do not know the actual powers of the offices they are running for, nor have they had time to work out party platforms, state their positions on the issues or do grass-roots campaigning.

In the long term, such concerns may fade in importance, provided the election is reasonably free and fair and the new civilian leadership measures up to the task. It will not be easy. The economy is in ruins. The principal source of income -- oil -- is a depressed industry. Corruption is rampant. Over the years, Nigeria has become home to money launderers, swindlers, drug traffickers and counterfeiters. And the nation's peacekeeping burden in West Africa is stretched to the limit. Nigeria has committed money and men to putting out fires in Liberia and Sierra Leone, neither of which are stable.

If things go well, the election could ease the country back to a democratic path, economic recovery and continental leadership, fulfilling national aspirations that Nigerians have dreamed of since independence in 1960. It would also give the world reason to hope that Africa, despite its enormous problems, can pull itself out of the kinds of crises that are plaguing the continent.

If things turn sour, however, the country could again explode into civil war, this time with far less capacity to come out of it intact. Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter, who is leading an observer mission to Nigeria, said that this is the most important election in the world this year. Indeed, a great deal hangs on it. The existence of the world's sixth-largest oil producer, with some 110 million people -- roughly one-fourth of the population of sub-Saharan Africa -- hangs in the balance. A credible election will not ensure that the country is poised for success. But without it, no success will be possible.

Pauline H. Baker is president of The Fund for Peace and an adjunct professor in the School of Foreign Service at Georgetown University. She lived in Nigeria for 11 years and taught at the University of Lagos.

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