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DEMOCRACY AND NIGERIA’S FOURTH REPUBLIC
WESTERN AFRICA SERIES Afro-European Trade in the Atlantic World: The Western Slave Coast c. 1550–c. 1885 Silke Strickrodt The Politics of Peacemaking in Africa: Non-State Actors’ Role in the Liberian Civil War Babatunde Tolu Afolabi Sects & Social Disorder: Muslim Identities & Conflict in Northern Nigeria Edited by Abdul Raufu Mustapha Creed & Grievance: Muslim-Christian Relations & Conflict Resolution in Northern Nigeria Edited by Abdul Raufu Mustapha & David Ehrhardt Overcoming Boko Haram: Faith, Society & Islamic Radicalization in Northern Nigeria Edited by Abdul Raufu Mustapha & Kate Meagher The Politics of Work in a Post-Conflict State: Youth, Labour & Violence in Sierra Leone Luisa Enria African Women in the Atlantic World: Property, Vulnerability & Mobility, 1660–1880 Edited by Mariana P. Candido & Adam Jones Political Legitimacy in Postcolonial Mali Dorothea E. Schulz State-building and National Militaries in Postcolonial West Africa Decolonizing the Means of Coercion, 1958–1974 Riina Turtio Masquerades in African Society: Gender, Power, and Identity* Walter E.A. van Beek, Harrie M. Leyten Order & Disorder in Northern Nigeria: Armed groups, Insurgency & Resistance* Edited by Adam Higazi & Laurens Bakker *forthcoming
Democracy and Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: Governance, Political Economy and Party Politics 1999–2023 Edited by Wale Adebanwi
JAMES CURREY
James Currey is an imprint of Boydell & Brewer Ltd PO Box 9, Woodbridge Suffolk IP12 3DF (GB) www.jamescurrey.com and of Boydell & Brewer Inc. 668 Mt Hope Avenue Rochester, NY 14620-2731 (US) www.boydellandbrewer.com Published in paperback in Nigeria in 2023 by Bookcraft Limited 23 Adebajo Street, Kongi Bodija Oyo State Nigeria © Contributors 2023 First published in Rest of World by James Currey in 2023 All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under current legislation no part of this work may be photocopied, stored in a retrieval system, published, performed in public, adapted, broadcast, transmitted, recorded or reproduced in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the copyright owner A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978-1-84701-351-4 ( James Currey hardback) ISBN 978-978-60136-1-9 (Bookcraft Limited paperback) ISBN 978-1-80010-993-3 ( James Currey ePDF) The publisher has no responsibility for the continued existence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to in this book, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate Cover image: #EndSARS protesters in Lagos, Nigeria, October 16, 2020. Photo by Tope A. Asokere. Courtesy Pexels.
For Kudirat Abiola (1951–1996) – a valiant warrior for the sovereignty of the people expressed through the ballot.
Contents List of Illustrations
ix
Notes on Contributors
xii
Acknowledgements
xvii
Chronology of the Fourth Republic
xviii
List of Abbreviations
xxxiv
Foreword: Democratization and Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: Successes and Challenges xxxix kayode fayemi, former governor of ekiti state of nigeria Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: An Introduction wale adebanwi
1
PART I: Democracy and the Nigerian State 1
Reconstructions, Resilience and Relevance: Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization, 1999–2019 eghosa e. osaghae
35
2
Federalism, Constitutional Reform, and the Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic rotimi suberu
56
3
Democracy in Nigeria: Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 85 browne onuoha
PART II: Party Politics, the Presidency, and the International Community 4
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Negation of the Popularity Principle 107 jibrin ibrahim
viii 5
A Republic of Dashed Hopes? Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic adigun agbaje
6
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 149 sa’eed husaini
7
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic aliyu modibbo-umar and v. adefemi isumonah
8
Double Standards or Different Lenses? Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments matthew t. page
129
168
192
PART III: The Political Economy: Oil and Economic Reforms 9
We Live in the Future: Is Nigeria No Longer an Oil State? sarah burns and olly owen
10 Economic Reforms and Human Development in Post-Military Nigeria: A Critical Assessment eyene okpanachi
215
242
PART IV: Electoral Governance, Civil-Political Society, and Conflict 11 The Promise and Problems of Electoral Reforms nkwachukwu orji 12 From a Human Rights Movement to Civil Society: Changing Contours of Civic Groups idayat hassan
273
294
13 Communal Conflicts, State Responses, and Local Peace Infrastructure 313 gbemisola animasawun Afterword: Nigeria’s Long Search for a Viable Political Order larry diamond
327
Bibliography
341
Index
397
Illustrations Map 0.1 Map of Nigeria, 2014
li
Figures 0.1 Presidential candidate Atiku Abubakar at an election rally, Damaturu, 6 February 2019
3
0.2 Speaker of Federal House of Representatives, Femi Gbajabiamila, Lagos Governor Jide Sanwo-Olu, APC Presidential candidate, Senator Bola Tinubu, former Lagos Governor Babatunde Fasola, and APC National Chairman, Abdullahi Adamu at the APC Presidential and Governorship campaign rally, Lagos, 26 November 2022
4
0.3 Labour Party Presidential Candidate Peter Obi, his running mate Dr Yusuf Baba-Ahmed, and leader of Afenifere, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, Ibadan, 23 November 2022
5
3.1 Former President Goodluck Jonathan and his successor, President Mohammadu Buhari
89
4.1 A man works with a hammer on a wall with election posters, Kano, 27 March 2015
119
5.1 Former President Olusegun Obasanjo and President Muhammadu Buhari at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa in Abuja during Buhari’s first term
131
6.1 Members of the All Progressives Congress at a meeting of the party in Kaduna, 2021
154
6.2 Frequency of political discussion with neighbours among respondents who did or did not work for a candidate or political party in the previous national election
156
7.1 Outgoing President Olusegun Obasanjo, Vice President Goodluck Jonathan, and President Umaru Yar’Adua at the inauguration of the latter, 29 May 2007
171
7.2 President Olusegun Obasanjo taking the oath during his swearing-in 29 May 1999
175
x Illustrations 7.3 British Prime Minister Tony Blair meets Nigeria’s President Olusegun Obasanjo, at Blair’s home in County Durham, 21 January 2004
178
7.4 President Umaru Yar’Adua and outgoing President Olusegun Obasanjo at the inauguration of the former, May 2007
182
7.5 President Goodluck Jonathan holds the PDP flag at the launch of his campaign in Lafia, Nassarawa state, 7 February 2011
185
7.6 President Buhari hosting former President Jonathan at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa.
187
8.1 US Secretary of State John Kerry meets Major General Muhammadu Buhari (retired), who challenged President Goodluck Jonathan in the 2015 Nigerian elections
206
9.1 Nominal dollar values of oil and non-oil revenues
220
9.2 Real-terms adjusted oil and non-oil revenues (in naira)
222
9.3 Real-terms adjusted oil and non-oil revenues (in US$)
223
9.4 Revenue as a share of GDP – oil, non-oil, and total
225
9.5 Real oil revenues, federal real non-oil revenues, and real non-oil revenues including states
226
9.6 Oil and non-oil revenues, including revenues of the thirty-six states, as share of GDP
227
9.7 Real oil and non-oil revenues with effects of COVID-19 forecast 230 10.1 Economic growth and population growth in Nigeria, 2001–2019 249 10.2 Nigeria’s GDP growth, 1990–2021
251
10.3 Poverty head count rate by non-monetary deprivations in Nigeria, 2018/2019
256
11.1 People queue to vote in the 2019 election in Oyo State
274
12.1 A protestor against police brutality holds an ‘#EndSARS’ placard, Lagos, 8 October 2020
302
12.2 Protestors gather at a ‘#BringbackOurGirls’ rally in Lagos State to demand the return of schoolgirls abducted by Boko Haram, 13 May 2014
307
A.1 EIU Democracy Index, 2008–2021
331
A.2 Freedom House Scores, 2006–2021
332
Illustrations xi A.3 Mortality rate for children under five per 1,000 live births, 1960–2019. 337
Tables 3.1 World Democracy Index, 2006–2021 (Nigeria Ranking)
99
3.2 World Justice Project Rule of Law Index 2012–2021 (Nigeria ranking) 100 8.1 Comparison of the 1996 and 2019 US Human Rights Reports for Nigeria
197
8.2 Comparison of extra-judicial killings by Abacha and Buhari Governments 200 9.1 Auto-regressive models for forecasting revenue
240
A.1 Annual mortality rate for children under five years per 1,000 live births
336
Full credit details are provided in the captions to the images in the text. The editor, contributors and publisher are grateful to all the institutions and persons for permission to reproduce the materials in which they hold copyright. Every effort has been made to trace the copyright holders; apologies are offered for any omission, and the publisher will be pleased to add any necessary acknowledgement in subsequent editions.
Notes on Contributors Wale Adebanwi is the Presidential Penn Compact Professor of Africana Studies with a secondary appointment in the Department of Political Science, and Director of the Center for Africana Studies, University of Pennsylvania. He is also an Honorary Research Associate at the African Studies Centre, University of Oxford. He has taught at the University of Ibadan, University of California-Davis, and University of Oxford where he was the Rhodes Professor of Race Relations and Director of the African Studies Centre. He is the author and editor of numerous books including Yoruba Elites and Ethnic Politics in Nigeria (2014), The Political Economy of Everyday Life in Africa: Beyond the Margins (2017) and Everyday State and Democracy in Africa: Ethnographic Encounters (2022). Adigun Agbaje is Professor of Political Science at the University of Ibadan, Nigeria and was a Visiting Professor and Director-General, Oba (Dr) Sikiru Kayode Adetona Institute for Governance Studies, Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ago-Iwoye, Nigeria. He is the author of The Nigerian Press, Hegemony, and the Social Construction of Legitimacy, 1960–1983 and co-editor (with Jane I. Guyer and LaRay Denzer) of Money Struggles and City Life: Devaluation in Ibadan and Other Urban Centres in Southern Nigeria, 1986–1996. Gbemisola Animasawun is an Associate Professor (Reader) at the Center for Peace & Strategic Studies, University of Ilorin, Nigeria. He is a researcher, trainer and consultant to UN agencies, state institutions and international organizations on peace processes, preventing and responding to violent extremism, conflict management and national security. His essays have been published in leading peer-reviewed journals, edited books, policy briefs, working papers, and op-eds that have earned him national and international research grants and honour. Sarah Burns is Founder and CEO of Nia Impact Consult Ltd. She completed a DPhil at the University of Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar, focusing on the effectiveness of impact investing in small African markets. She now works with investors from around the world to support their impact investing portfolios on the continent. Her research focused on how to ethically and sustainably contribute to private sector development in post-conflict
Notes on Contributors xiii Africa and specializes in the contributions of FDI and local SMEs to this process. She has been working in Africa for over ten years, and has advised the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, International Finance Corporation, World Bank, and high-net-worth individuals. Sarah also teaches at Oxford on integrating the private sector with development. Larry Diamond is a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution and the Mosbacher Senior Fellow in Global Democracy at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies (FSI) at Stanford University. He also chairs the Hoover Institution Project on Taiwan in the Indo-Pacific Region and is the principal investigator of the Global Digital Policy Incubator, part of Stanford’s Cyber Policy Center. He is the founding co-editor of the Journal of Democracy and also serves as senior consultant at the International Forum for Democratic Studies of the US National Endowment for Democracy. Diamond’s research focuses on democratic trends and conditions around the world and on policies and reforms to defend and advance democracy. His latest book, Ill Winds: Saving Democracy from Russian Rage, Chinese Ambition, and American Complacency, analyses the challenges confronting liberal democracy in the United States and around the world at this potential ‘hinge in history’, and offers an agenda for strengthening and defending democracy at home and abroad. Diamond is professor by courtesy of Political Science and Sociology at Stanford University, where he teaches courses on democracy and American foreign policy. His 2005 book, Squandered Victory: The American Occupation and the Bungled Effort to Bring Democracy to Iraq, was one of the first books to critically analyse America’s post-war engagement in Iraq. Diamond’s other books include In Search of Democracy (2016), The Spirit of Democracy (2008), Developing Democracy: Toward Consolidation (1999), Promoting Democracy in the 1990s (1995), and Class, Ethnicity, and Democracy in Nigeria (1989). He has also edited or co-edited some fifty books on democratic development around the world. Among them are Democracy in Decline? (2016); Democratization and Authoritarianism in the Arab World (2014); Will China Democratize? (2013); and Liberation Technology: Social Media and the Struggle for Democracy (2012), all edited with Marc F. Plattner; and Politics and Culture in Contemporary Iran (2015), with Abbas Milani. With Juan J. Linz and Seymour Martin Lipset he edited the four-volume series Democracy in Developing Countries (1988–1989), which helped to shape a new generation of comparative study of democratic development. Kayode Fayemi was the Governor of Ekiti State of Nigeria (2010–2014; 2018–2022) and Federal Minister of Mines and Steel Development (2015– 2018). He received degrees in History, Politics, and International Relations from the University of Lagos and University of Ife (now Obafemi Awolowo
xiv Notes on Contributors University) and earned a doctorate in War Studies from King’s College, London specializing in civil-military relations. He was the founding Director of the Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD) between 1997 and 2006 and has also served as an advisor on transitional justice, regional integration, constitutionalism, security sector reform, and civilmilitary relations issues to various governments, inter-governmental institutions, and development agencies. He is the author of Deepening the Culture of Constitutionalism: The Role of Regional Institutions in Constitutional Development in Africa (2003), Out of the Shadows: Exile and the Struggle for Freedom and Democracy in Nigeria (2005), and co-editor (with Abdel-Fatau Musah) of Mercenaries: An African Security Dilemma (2000). He is a Visiting Professor at the African Leadership Centre, King’s College, University of London, UK. Idayat Hassan is the Director of the Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD), an Abuja (Nigeria) think tank focusing on deepening democracy and development in West Africa. Her interests span democracy, peace and security, transitional justice, and information and communications technologies for development (ICT4D) across West Africa. Sa’eed Husaini is a Research Fellow at the Center for Democracy and Development (CDD) and a post-doctoral researcher on the UCRI-GCFRfunded project on Migration, Urbanization, and Conflict (MUCA) at the University of Lagos, Nigeria. He completed a DPhil in International Development at the University of Oxford in 2019. His research interests lie in the political economy of democratization in Africa. He focuses on political party organization and the roles and impacts of political ideas. Jibrin Ibrahim is a Senior Fellow with the Centre for Democracy and Development, CDD, where he had earlier served as Director. Ibrahim received degrees in Political Science from the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, Nigeria and a doctorate in Politics from the University of Bordeaux in France. He was a Professor of Political Science at Babcock University, Ilishan, Nigeria and a Research Professor at the Institute of Federalism in Fribourg, Switzerland among several other academic accomplishments. Ibrahim has lectured, published, and consulted extensively on democratization and governance in Africa. He is a well-regarded leader in civil society. V. Adefemi Isumonah earned his doctorate degree in Political Science from the University of Ibadan, Nigeria and Postgraduate Diploma in Conflict Resolution from Uppsala University, Sweden. A recipient of several academic awards and fellowships, he is a Professor of Political Science and former Head of Department, University of Ibadan. He is author of numerous scholarly articles on governance and political economy of Africa
Notes on Contributors xv and co-author (with Nathaniel Umukoro) of Confronting Islamist Terrorism in Africa: The Cases of Nigeria and Kenya and (with Festus O. Egwaikhide) of Federal Presence in Nigeria: The Sung and Unsung Basis for Ethnic Grievance. Eyene Okpanachi is Marie Curie Fellow at the University of South Wales, UK. His research has received funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under the Marie SkłodowskaCurie grant agreement No. 895779. He was previously Banting Postdoctoral Fellow at the Department of Political Science, University of Victoria, British Columbia, and Vanier Canada Graduate Scholar at the University of Alberta where he obtained his PhD in Political Science. Eyene also studied at the University of Ibadan where he obtained BSc and MSc degrees in Political Science. He is the co-editor (with Reeta Tremblay) of The Political Economy of Natural Resource Funds (2021). Aliyu Modibbo-Umar was a Visiting Fellow at the African Studies Centre, University of Oxford (2019–2021), Lecturer in the University of Abuja (1993–1994), and a member of the Board of Trustees of Baze University, Abuja, Nigeria (2010–2018). He was a Special Assistant and later Senior Special Assistant in the office of the Nigerian Head of State (1995–2006). He was also Nigeria’s Federal Minister of State for Power and Steel (2002– 2003), Minister of Commerce and Industry (2006–2007), and Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Abuja (2007–2008). He obtained a BA in Broadcast Journalism, California State University, Long Beach (1986), MA in African Area Studies, University of California, Los Angeles (1988), and a PhD in International and Comparative Education, University of California, Los Angeles (1992). Browne Onuoha is a professor in the Department of Political Science, Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Lagos (UNILAG), Nigeria. He has published numerous articles in peer-reviewed journals such as the Journal of Contemporary African Studies, Social Dynamics, Contemporary Justice Review, African Journal of Conflict Resolution, and Asia Journal of Global Studies. Nkwachukwu Orji is a research fellow at the Institute for Development Studies, University of Nigeria, Nsukka. He has held teaching, research, advisory, and project management positions in several institutions including University of Nigeria, German Institute of Global and Area Studies, Nordic African Institute, Policy and Legal Advocacy Centre, United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and Department for International Development (DFID). Between 2017 and 2022, he served as a Resident Electoral Commissioner in the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), Nigeria. His research focuses on elections, democratization, conflict, and peace-building.
xvi Notes on Contributors Eghosa E. Osaghae is a Professor of Political Science at the University of Ibadan, Nigeria and the Director-General of the Nigerian Institute of International Affairs, NIIA, Nigeria’s foreign policy and international affairs think tank. He was the Vice Chancellor of Igbinedion University, Okada, a position he held for a record fourteen years (2004–2018). He was the 2019 Claude Ake Chair at Uppsala University and Nordic Africa Institute, Sweden, and a Fellow of the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Studies in South Africa. Also, he was the 2017 Van Zyl Slabbert Professor of Politics and Sociology at the University of Cape Town and the 2014 Emeka Anyaoku Chair of Commonwealth Studies at the University of London. Olly Owen is a political anthropologist, currently a Research Affiliate at the School of Anthropology & Museum Ethnography, University of Oxford. He previously taught at Oxford’s Institute of Social and Cultural Anthropology and the African Studies Centre. He is also a Technical Advisor to Ekiti State Government, and between 2017 and 2021 acted as Research Director for the Nigeria Tax Research Network, a collaboration between Nigerian researcher-practitioners and the Institute of Development Studies, funded by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. He co-edited (with J. Beek, M. Goepfert, and J. Steinberg) Police in Africa: The Street-Level View (2017). He recently completed an ethnography of new transformations in revenue and fiscal governance in Nigeria, looking at taxation relationships between the state and citizens, and how questions of social contract and political accountability are popularly understood. Matthew T. Page is a non-resident scholar with the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, Washington, DC, associate fellow with the Africa Programme at Chatham House, London, UK, and non-resident fellow with the Centre for Democracy and Development in Abuja, Nigeria. He co-authored Nigeria: What Everyone Needs to Know (Oxford University Press, 2018). Page previously worked at the US Department of State’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research, the US National Intelligence Council, and the Council on Foreign Relations. Rotimi Suberu teaches politics and international relations at Bennington College, Vermont, USA. Previously, he was a Professor of Political Science at Nigeria’s University of Ibadan. Suberu’s research interests are in the areas of democratization, the management of ethnic and religious conflicts, and Nigerian government and politics. He is the author of Federalism and Ethnic Conflict in Nigeria (2001) and numerous articles and book chapters on governance in Nigeria and other divided societies.
Acknowledgements Most of the contributors to this book presented the first draft of their contributions at the conference ‘20 Years of Democracy in Nigeria: 1999–2019’ hosted at the St Antony’s College, University of Oxford on 6 December 2019. In the years following the conference, as reflected in the volume, the contributors were able to reflect further on Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. I thank all those who supported me in the process of putting this book together, particularly Brenda McCollum, Sa’eed Husaini, and my former teacher, Rotimi Suberu. I am grateful to the former Governor of Ekiti State, Dr Kayode Fayemi, the former Governor of Sokoto State, Rt Hon. Aminu Tambuwal, Larry Diamond, David Pratten, Ebenezer Obadare, Michael Hanchard, and Camille Charles. I thank the Oxford African Studies Centre, St Antony’s College, Oxford School of Global and Area Studies (OSGA), and UPenn’s School of Arts and Science – the latter two for the research grants that facilitated the production of the book. The Oxford Martin School (OMS) provided a research grant under the Programme on African Governance which facilitated my research on the politics of redistribution in Nigeria, which forms a part of the insights that informed the introductory chapter of this book. The administrators at the Oxford African Studies Centre, the Centre for Africana Studies, and the Department of Africana Studies at UPenn, particularly Carol Davis and Teya Campbell, were very supportive in different ways. Thanks also to our Commissioning Editor at James Currey, Jaqueline Mitchell, and her team. This book is dedicated to Kudirat Olayinka Abiola, the brave wife of Moshood Abiola, the winner of Nigeria’s 12 June 1993, presidential election – which was annulled by the military. Before and after her husband was jailed for seeking to reclaim his mandate, Kudirat Abiola was one of the most valiant warriors for the restoration of democratic rule in Nigeria. She was assassinated on 4 June 1996, by those suspected to be agents of the General Sani Abacha’s regime. The memory of her sacrifices will continue to animate the popular spirit for democracy and egalitarian rule in Nigeria. WA
Chronology of the Fourth Republic 1998 8 June 1998 9 June 1998 7 July 1998 20 July 1998
31 August 1998
8 September 2003
9 September 1998
1999 10 February 1999 5 May 1999 29 May 1999 3 June 1999
General Sani Abacha, military dictator, dead. General Abdusalami Abubakar takes over as Head of State. Moshood Abiola, detained winner of 1993 presidential election, dead. General Abdulsalam Abubakar announces new Transition to Civil Rule Programme that will end in the inauguration of democratic governments at federal and state levels on 29 May 1999. Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), the first political party formed to contest for power in the Fourth Republic, launched in Abuja. All People’s Party (later, All Nigeria People’s Party, ANPP), one of the three political parties later registered by the departing Federal Military Government, launched in Abuja. Alliance for Democracy (AD), one of the three political parties later registered by the departing Federal Military Government, formed. Chief Olusegun Obasanjo elected President of Federal Republic of Nigeria. 1999 Constitution promulgated. Chief Olusegun Obasanjo and state governors take oaths of office; Fourth National Assembly inaugurated. Senator Evan Enwerem elected Senate President; Salisu Buhari elected as Speaker of the Federal House of Representatives.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xix 14 June 1999
23 July 1999 18 November 1999
19 December 1999
2000 27 January 2000 22 May 2000
24 May 2000
5 June 2000
9 August 2000
The Human Rights Violations Investigation Commission of Nigeria (otherwise called the Oputa Panel) headed by Justice Chukwudifu Oputa, a retired Justice of the Supreme Court, is formally inaugurated by President Obasanjo to sit 1999–2002. Salisu Buhari, Speaker of House of Representatives, resigns over age and certificate forgery allegations. Senator Evan Enwerem impeached as Senate President over allegations of corruption and falsification of his name; Senator Chuba Okadigbo elected Senate President. President Obasanjo deploys the Nigerian Armed Forces to Odi, Bayelsa State, in response to the alleged murder of twelve policemen by local militia. Sharia law formally established in Zamfara State. Ralph Uwazuruike, leader of the Movement for the Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra (MASSOB), declares the Biafra Republic and hoists its flag in Aba, five days ahead of the 27 May advertised date. 54 people arrested ‘for hoisting a Biafran flag in Aba, an action considered as an attempt to topple the Federal Government administration’.1 The Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) established to address human development and ecological issues in the Niger Delta. Senator Chuba Okadigbo impeached as Senate President over allegations of corruption.
2001 7–17 September 2001 Violent clashes between Christians and Muslims in Jos, Plateau State, with over 1,000 people killed. 20–24 October 2001 The Nigerian Army carries out an operation, code-named ‘Operation No Living Thing’, to avenge the killing of nineteen soldiers earlier in the month; this leads to the execution of hundreds of unarmed Tiv civilians. 1
1 Vanguard, 29 August 2000.
xx Chronology of the Fourth Republic 23 December 2001
2002 27 January 2002 10 September 2002
10 October 2002
20 November 2002
2003 5 March 2003
19 April 2003 29 May 2003 3 June 2003 27 September 2003
2004 4 February 2004 6 February 2004
Former Minister of Justice and Attorney General of the Federation, Bola Ige, assassinated in his home at Ibadan, South West Nigeria. Lagos experiences accidental detonation of large stock of explosives in a military storage in Lagos; more than 1,000 people dead. Igwe Barnabas, Chairman of Onitsha Branch of the Nigeria Bar Association (NBA) and his wife, Abigail Amaka Barnabas, assassinated. The International Court of Justice rules in favour of Cameroon and against Nigeria over the disputed oil-rich Bakassi peninsula territory. Riots break out in reaction to a comment on the Miss World pageant hosted in Abuja and Prophet Mohammed in a 16 November 2002, feature story in ThisDay newspaper by Isioma Daniel. The comment was regarded by many Muslims as ‘blasphemous’. Marshal Sokari Harry, former Chairman of River State branch of the Peoples Democratic Party and former National Vice-Chairman (South South) of the All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP), assassinated in Abuja. President Olusegun Obasanjo re-elected for a second term in office. President Olusegun Obasanjo sworn in for second term in office. The 5th National Assembly inaugurated. Nigeriasat-1, Nigeria’s first satellite launched from Russia. Armed Muslims attack Christians in Yelwa, killing more than seventy-eight people, including at least forty-eight who were worshipping inside a church. Aminasori Alfred Dikibo, National Vice-Chairman of the Peoples Democratic Party, South South zone, assassinated.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxi 20 April 2004
2 May 2004
18 May 2004
10 December 2004
2005 5 April 2005 22 October 2005
10 December 2005
2006 21 April 2006
Minister of State for Finance, Mrs Esther Nenadi Usman, at the Federation Account Allocation Council (FAAC) meeting in Abuja, announces a presidential directive stopping allocation of funds to five states Lagos, Ebonyi, Katsina, Niger, and Nasarawa States due to the creation of new Local Government Areas by the states, which the President deemed ‘unconstitutional’. Christians respond to the February massacre of Christians by attacking Muslims in Yelwa, resulting in about 630 people dead. President Obasanjo declares a state of emergency in Plateau State over the killing of over 200 Muslims earlier this month by Christian militia. The President also suspends the State Governor, Joshua Dariye, dissolves the state legislature, and appoints a retired army general, Chris Ali, as interim administrator for the next six months. Supreme Court, in the case Attorney General of Lagos State vs Attorney General of the Federation, rules that ‘The federal government has no power, either by executive or administrative action, to suspend or withhold for any period what so ever, the statutory allocations due and payable to Lagos state government pursuant of the provision of Section 162 (8) of the 1999 constitution’, and that ‘[s]uch withholding of due allocations is unlawful and contrary to the provisions of the 1999 Constitution’. The President of the Senate, Senator Adolphus Wabara, resigns. Bellview Airlines Flight 210 from Lagos to Abuja crashes a few minutes after take-off, killing all 117 people on board. Sosoliso Airlines Flight 1145 from Abuja crash-lands in Port Harcourt. Only two of the 110 people on board survived. Nigeria makes final payment of its Paris Club debt, thus becoming the first African nation to do so.
xxii Chronology of the Fourth Republic 16 May 2006
13 June 2006
27 July 2006
1 August 2006
2007 15 March 2007 21 April 2007 29 May 2007 5 June 2007 30 October 2007
2009 11–12 June 2009
26–31 July 2009
30 July 2009
The National Assembly votes against a constitutional amendment to remove term limits, popularly referred to as ‘third term’. President Obasanjo holds talks on the Bakassi dispute with President Paul Biya of Cameroon and Secretary General of the United Nations Kofi Annan in New York. Funso Williams, Peoples Democratic Party gubernatorial hopeful for the 2007 election in Lagos State, assassinated in his home in Lagos. Nigeria agrees to cede sovereignty of the disputed Bakassi peninsula to neighbouring Cameroon under the terms of a 2002 International Court of Justice ruling. The Independent National Electoral Commission releases the names of twenty-four approved candidates for the 2007 presidential elections. Governor Umaru Yar’Adua elected President. Umaru Yar’Adua sworn in as the President. The 6th National Assembly inaugurated. Patricia Olubunmi Ette resigns as Speaker of House of Representatives over alleged corruption. Following the killing of fourteen of his followers in a joint military and police operation in Borno State, Mohammed Yusuf, leader of Boko Haram (also known as Jamā’at Ahl as-Sunnah lid-Da’wah wa’l-Jihād or JAS), an Islamic insurgent group, threatens the federal state with reprisals. Boko Haram launches uprising in Borno, Bauchi, Yobe, Gombe, Kano, and Katsina, The Nigerian military’s response reportedly leaves about 800 people dead. Mohammed Yusuf handed over to the Police by the Army who allegedly summarily execute him while in custody. Alhaji Buji Foi, former Commissioner of Religious Affairs and alleged financier of Boko Haram, arrested and killed.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxiii 31 July 2009
6 August 2009
23 November 2009
2 December 2009
19 December 2009
2010 12 January 2010
25 January 2010
9 February 2010
10 February 2010
17 February 2010
24 February 2010
Abubakar Shekau (Abu Mohammed Abubakar al-Sheikawi) succeeds Mohammed Yusuf as leader of Boko Haram. President Umaru Yar’Adua announces amnesty to Niger Delta rebels who agree to lay down their arms and assemble at screening centres over the sixty days following. President Umaru Yar’Adua travels to Saudi Arabia to receive treatment for heart condition (acute pericarditis). This leads to a constitutional crisis and calls for him to step down. Federal cabinet unanimously rejects calls for President Yar’Adua to resign, stating that there are no grounds to seek the President’s resignation. Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), an insurgent group, announces its first attack on an oil pipeline since the announcement of the amnesty by the Federal Government. President Yar’Adua makes his first public comments after seven weeks of absence. He says in a radio interview that he is recovering from illness and hopes to return to Nigeria soon. Dipo Dina, Action Congress (AC) gubernatorial hopeful in Ogun State and former AC gubernatorial candidate in the 2007 election, assassinated in Ota, Ogun State. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan named Acting President based on a resolution on the ‘Doctrine of Necessity’ passed by the Senate due to President Yar’Adua’s unavailability because of medical treatment abroad. Jonathan chairs first cabinet meeting as Acting President, and removes controversial Justice Minister and Attorney General Michael Aondoakaa. Federal cabinet rejects motion to declare Yar’Adua unfit to govern, deciding instead to send a delegation to Saudi Arabia for an update on his health. President Yar’Adua arrives back in Abuja after three months in a Saudi Arabian hospital.
xxiv Chronology of the Fourth Republic 5 May 2010
1 October 2010
2011 16 April 2011 29 May 2011 6 June 2011 16 June 2011 26 August 2011 31 December 2011
2012 2 January 2012 7 January 2012
9–10 January, 2012
21 January 2012 3 June 2012
2013 6 February 2013
President Umaru Yar’Adua dies; Acting President, Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, sworn in as substantive President. The National Stadium, Abuja bombed by suspected militants during National Day rally. Presidential elections held after being postponed from 9 April. Dr Ebele Jonathan sworn in as President. The 7th National Assembly inaugurated. Boko Haram bomb the headquarters of the Nigeria Police in Abuja. Boko Haram bomb the United Nations building in Abuja. President Goodluck Jonathan declares a state of emergency on a Saturday in parts of Nigeria plagued by a violent Islamist insurgency, and orders closed the borders with Cameroon, Chad, and Niger in the north-east. Fuel Subsidy Removal protests breaks out using the hashtag ‘#occupy Nigeria’. At least thirty-seven people are killed in attacks by Boko Haram; Boko Haram tells Christians to leave the North of Nigeria. Nigerians protest against a sharp increase in petrol prices, piling pressure on President Goodluck Jonathan to reverse his removal of fuel subsidies. More than 100 killed in single day of coordinated bombings and shootings in Kano city. A Lagos-bound Dana Air flight from Abuja crashes into a two-storey building at Ishaga, at the outskirts of Lagos, killing all 153 people on board and six on the ground. The Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), All Nigeria Peoples’ Party (ANPP), All Progressive Grand Alliance (APGA), and Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), merge to form the All Progressives Congress (APC).
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxv 8 February 2013
21 March 2013 16 April 2013
7 May 2013
14 May 2013
1 July 2013
2014 13 January 2014 14 February 2014 16 February 2014 25 February 2014 14 March 2014 6 April 2014 14–15 April 2014
15 April 2014
Nine women involved in polio vaccination are shot to death in Kano by people suspected to be members of Boko Haram. Literary icon and author of Africa’s most famous novel, Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe, dies at 82. The Baga massacre begins in the village of Baga, Borno State; as many as 200 civilians are killed, hundreds wounded, and over 2,000 houses and businesses worth millions of naira destroyed. Over seventy-three personnel security agencies comprising the Police, the Department of State Service (DSS), killed by members of the Ombatse cult in an ambush at Alakyo village, Lafia Local Government Area of Nasarawa State. Federal Government declares a state of emergency in three northern states of Yobe, Borno, and Adamawa and sends in troops to combat Boko Haram. Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) begins an industrial action which lasts for six months The Same-Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Bill signed into law by President Goodluck Jonathan. Boko Haram terrorists massacre 121 Christian villagers in Konduga, Borno State. Suspected Islamic militants kill 90 people in Izghe village near the border with Cameroon. Fifty-nine boys killed by Boko Haram at the Federal Government College, Buni Yadi, Yobe State. Islamic militants attack a Nigerian Army barracks in Maiduguri, Borno State. Nigeria’s economy passes that of South Africa to become the largest in Africa. Two bombs explode at a bus station in central Abuja killing at least eighty-eight people and injuring more than 200. 276 mostly Christian female students aged from 16 to 18 years kidnapped by the terrorist group Boko Haram from the Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Borno State.
xxvi Chronology of the Fourth Republic 18 May 2014
25 July 2014 1 December 2014
6 December 2014
2015 7 February 2015 28 March 2015 1 April 2015
9 June 2015 16 December 2015
2016 6 June 2016 12 June 2016 19 June 2016 27 June 2016
7 October 2016
Back-to-back bomb blasts kill at least 118 people and wound forty-five in the crowded business district of central Jos. Patrick Sawyer, a Liberian visiting Lagos, dies of Ebola virus becoming the first reported death in Nigeria. Dual Boko Haram attacks in Maiduguri and Damaturu leave at least seventy-seven dead, including thirty-three police, six soldiers, and twenty militants. Unidentified gunmen break into New Minna prison in Niger state and free an estimated 200 inmates. General elections earlier slated for 15 February postponed to 28 March. General elections held. President Buhari wins presidential election. This is the first time in Nigeria’s history that an incumbent president is defeated. Senator Bukola Saraki elected Senate President of the 8th National Assembly Senate sets up an inquiry into death of members of Shia Muslim group, Islamic Movement of Nigeria (IMN), in Zaria in a clash with soldiers, hundreds are reported to have been killed. President Buhari embarks on vacation to attend to what his spokesman describes as ‘a persistent ear infection’. Vice President Yemi Osinbajo becomes Acting President in the absence of President Buhari. Buhari returns after nearly two weeks in the UK. The Federal Government arraigns the Senate President, Dr Bukola Saraki, Deputy Senate President, Ike Ekweremadu, and two others before the High Court of the Federal Capital Territory for forgery of the Senate Standing Rules 2015. The Federal Government withdraws forgery charges against the Senate President, Bukola Saraki, his deputy, Ike Ekweremadu, and two others.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxvii 7–8 October 2016
10 November 2016
2017 23 January 2017
5 February 2017 10 March 2017 7 May 2017
19 August 2017
2018 19 February 2018 8 May 2018 11 May 2018
6 June 2018
3 August 2018
Operatives of the Department of State Security (DSS) invade residences of some judges in Abuja, Port Harcourt, and Gombe in a bid to arrest them on allegations of corruption. Justice Walter Samuel Nkanu Onnoghen sworn in as Acting Chief Justice of Nigeria (CJN). President Muhammadu Buhari leaves Nigeria after transmitting a letter to the National Assembly, disclosing that he was going on a ten-day medical vacation. Vice President Yemi Osinbajo becomes Acting President. President Buhari sends a letter to the National Assembly on the indefinite extension of his medical vacation. President Buhari returns to Abuja after forty-nine days. President Buhari returns to London for medical check-up; Vice President Osinbajo again becomes Acting President. President Buhari returns to Nigeria, 103 days after leaving for the latest medical check-up. This brings the total days of his foreign medical trips for 2017 to 152 days – a total of 165 days since he emerged as president in 2015. 110 schoolgirls aged 11–19 years old kidnapped by Boko Haram from the Government Girls’ Science and Technical College (GGSTC), Dapchi, Yobe State. President Muhammadu Buhari travels out of Nigeria for another medical trip. President Buhari returns to Abuja after a four-day medical visit to the UK. This brings the total of his medical leave to 169 days. President Buhari announces that, effective from 2019, 12 June – the day when the annulled 1993 presidential election was held – would replace 29 May, as Nigeria’s Democracy Day. President Buhari leaves Nigeria on a ‘10-working-day vacation’ in London. The President transmits a letter to the National Assembly authorizing Vice President Yemi Osinbajo to discharge the functions of his office as Acting President.
xxviii Chronology of the Fourth Republic 7 August 2018
18 August 2018
2019 25 January 2019 16 February 2019 28 May 2019 29 May 2019 11 June 2019 11 August 2019
2020 6 January 2020 9 March 2020 24 March 2020 17 April 2020 18 April 2020 11 August 2020
Operatives of the Department of State Services (DSS) invade the National Assembly and deny lawmakers access to the premises; Acting President Osinbajo sacks Lawal Daura, the Director General of DSS over ‘unauthorized takeover of the National Assembly complex’ and ‘gross violation of constitutional order, rule of law and all acceptable notions of law and order’ (Sahara Reporters 2018). President Buhari returns to Nigeria after fifteen days. President Muhammadu Buhari suspends the Acting Chief Justice of Nigeria (CJN), Walter Onnoghen. President Buhari re-elected for a second term in office Justice Walter Onnoghen voluntarily resigns as the Chief Justice of the Federation. President Buhari takes oath of office to commence his second term in office. The 9th National Assembly is inaugurated. Department of State Services (DSS) temporarily releases the leader of the Islamic Movement in Nigeria, Sheikh Ibrahim El-Zakzaky, to travel to India for medical treatment. He has been detained for four years in defiance of court orders. Thirty people killed and thirty-five injured in a bomb explosion by Boko Haram in Gamboru, Borno State. Emir of Kano, Mohammadu Sanusi II, dethroned for ‘disrespect to lawful instructions’. About seventy soldiers ambushed and killed by Boko Haram in Goneri village, Borno State. Chief of Staff to the President, Abba Kyari, dies of COVID-19 in Lagos. Bandits kill forty-seven people in attacks on villages in Katsina State. Musician Yahaya Sharif-Aminu, 22 years, sentenced to death by hanging in Kano State for blasphemy against Prophet Mohammed.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxix 3 October 2020
5 October 2020
8 October 2020 11 October 2020 15 October 2020
20 October 2020 11 December 2020
17 December 2020
2021 6 January 2021 17 February 2021
26 February 2021
Video showing a Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) police officer shooting a young Nigerian in front of Wetland Hotel, Ughelli, Delta State, trending on the internet, alleging that the police officers took away the young man’s vehicle, leading to public outcry on social media, especially on Twitter, with the ‘#ENDSARS’ hashtag trending. Another report shared on social media of SARS officers killing a 20-year-old upcoming musician, Daniel Chibuike (Sleek) in his neighbourhood. Nationwide protests, tagged ‘#ENDSARS’, start against police brutality, harassment and extortion. SARS dissolved. The National Executive Council (NEC) directs the immediate establishment of state-based Judicial Panels of Inquiry across the country to receive and investigate complaints of police brutality or related extra-judicial killings with a view to delivering justice for all victims of the dissolved SARS and other police units.
Lekki Massacre: Nigerian soldiers open fire on unarmed protestors, killing several people. Over 300 students of the Government Secondary School, Kankara, Katsina State kidnapped. President Buhari is holidaying in his country home in the state while the kidnapping happened. Katsina State Governor Aminu Bello Masari announces that 344 victims of the Government Secondary School, Kandara kidnapping released from captivity in neighbouring Zamfara State. Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) armed fighters overrun a military base in Marte, Borno State. Bandits attack Government Science College, Kagara in Rafi Local Government Area of Niger State abducting forty-two students and killing one pupil in the process. Bandits abduct 279 schoolgirls at Government Girls’ Secondary School, Jangebe, Talata-Mafara Local Government Area of Zamfara State.
xxx Chronology of the Fourth Republic 11 March 2022
30 March 2021 15 April 2021 20 April 2021
19 May 2021
21 May 2021 30 May 2021
2 June 2022 4 June 2022
5 June 2022 17 June 2021
24 June 2021 29 June 2021
Bandits kidnap thirty-nine students of the Federal College of Forestry Mechanization, Afaka, Igabi Local Government Area. Kaduna State. President Buhari leaves for the UK for ‘routine’ medical check-up. President Buhari returns to Nigeria from the UK. Bandits abduct twenty Greenfield University students and kill two; five more are later killed while the rest are freed after reportedly paying a ransom. Abubakar Shekau (Abu Mohammed Abubakar al-Sheikawi), leader of Boko Haram, killed during a clash with the Islamic State West Africa Province. Chief of Army Staff, Lieutenant General Ibrahim Attahiru, and ten others die in an air crash. Bandits abduct over 200 students of an Islamiyya school located at Tegina in the Rafi Local Government Area of Niger State. Twitter removes one of Muhammadu Buhari’s tweets and temporarily suspends his account. Minister of Information and Culture, Lai Muhammed, announce that Twitter’s operations in Nigeria would be ‘suspended’ indefinitely, because the company engages in activities that ‘are capable of undermining Nigeria’s corporate existence’. Nigerian government suspends Twitter, blocking it from all internet service providers in the country Bandits kill a police officer and kidnap at least eighty students and five teachers from the Federal Government College, Birnin Yauri in Kebbi State. Several more students kidnapped in Birnin Yauri, Kebbi State. Attorney General of the Federation and the Minister of Justice, Abubakar Malami, announces that ‘international collaborative efforts with security agencies’ have led to the arrest and repatriation of the leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra, Nnamdi Kanu, to Nigeria.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxxi 1 July 2021
5 July 2021
19 July 2021
5 July 2021
26 July 2021
13 August 2021
16 August 2021 24 August 2021
27 October 2021
27 November 2021
9 November 2021
The Department of State Services (DSS) announces that it raided the Ibadan home of Yoruba nation agitator, Sunday Adeyemo (popularly called Sunday Igboho), leading to the death of two of Igboho’s aides and the arrest of thirteen others. Gunmen abduct 140 Bethel Baptist High School students in Kaduna State. This officially brought the number of abducted students in 2021 to over 1,000. After fleeing Nigeria, Yoruba nation agitator, Sunday Adeyemo is arrested at the Cadjehoun Airport in Cotonou, Benin Republic, while on his way to Germany. An armed gang carry out a mass kidnapping of 140 pupils from Bethel Baptist Secondary School, Kujuma, Chikun, Kaduna State; twenty-six pupils and a teacher were rescued. President Buhari departs Nigeria for the UK to attend the Global Education Summit and also for a medical check-up. President Buhari returns to Nigeria after medical check-up in the UK and also participating in Global Education Summit. President Muhammadu Buhari signs the Petroleum Industry Bill. Armed men suspected to be terrorists attack the Nigerian Defence Academy (NDA) Zaria, Kaduna State, killing two officers and abducting one other. Jesus College at the University of Cambridge officially returns a Benin Bronze sculpture of a cockerel to Nigeria in a ceremony. The Federal High Court in Abuja presided over by Justice Taiwo Taiwo declares bandits operating in northern Nigeria to be ‘terrorists’ after the refusal by the Federal Government to designate them as such. National Assembly amends the Electoral Act to include e-transmission of election results.
xxxii Chronology of the Fourth Republic 5 December 2021
2022 4–6 January 2022 14–15 January 2022 21 February 2022 8 March 2022 28 March 2022
10 April 2022
2 May 2022
11 May 2022
27 May 2022
30 May 2022 5 June 2022
8 June 2022
Emancipation Centre for Crisis Victims in Nigeria (EC-CVN) announces that no fewer than 102 communities in Plateau State have been sacked and forcefully occupied by herdsmen. Over 200 people killed by bandits in Zamfara State, representing the largest terrorist attack in recent times in Nigeria. A bandit gang kill over 50 people in Dankade, Kebbi State. President Buhari finally signs amended Electoral Bill into law after initially twice refusing. Bandit gangs carry out mass shootings in Sabaka and Kanya in Kebbi State, killing over 80 people. Over 160 passengers travelling by train from Abuja to Lagos are kidnapped and held by terrorists suspected to be Boko Haram members. A gang of bandits believed to be Fulani herdsmen attack nine villages in Kanam and Wase Local Government Areas, killing more than 150 people in a series of attacks in Plateau State and kidnapping about seventy people. Deborah Samuel Yakubu, a second-year Christian student of Shehu Shagari College of Education, Sokoto, who was accused of ‘blasphemy’, killed by a mob of Muslim students. President Buhari requests all members of the Federal cabinet seeking elective office to resign on or before 16 May. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar wins the presidential ticket of the opposition Peoples Democratic Party in Abuja. Former Anambra State Governor Peter Obi wins Labour Party presidential ticket. A mass shooting and bomb blast occurs at St Francis Xavier Catholic Church, Owo, Ondo State, killing at least forty people. Islamic State West Africa Province suspected to have carryied out the attack. Former Lagos State Governor, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, wins presidential ticket of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) in Abuja.
Chronology of the Fourth Republic xxxiii 16 June 2022
27 June 2022
5 July 2022
8 July 2022
10 July 2022
24 November 2022
2023 February/March
25 February 1 March
Atiku Abubakar, PDP presidential candidate, announces Governor of Delta State, Ifeanyi Okowa as his running mate for the 2023 election. Amid allegations of corruption by his colleagues, Ibrahim Muhammad Tanko resigns as the Chief Justice of Nigeria. Boko Haram attacks a medium-security prison located in Kuje, Abuja and frees some of its members detained there. Peter Obi, Labour Party presidential candidate, announces Senator Yusuf Baba-Ahmed as his running mate for the 2023 election. Bola Tinubu, APC presidential candidate, announces Senator Kashim Shettima as his running mate for the 2023 election. President Muhammadu Buhari inaugurates the new naira banknotes.
Kaduna, Zamfara, and Kogi State Governments file a motion against the Federal Government banning the use of old N200, N500, and N1000 banknotes as valid legal tenders by the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). This is rejected by the Supreme Court. On 16 February President Buhari, in defiance of the Supreme Court, makes a national broadcast stating that only the old N200 notes will remain legal tender until 10 April 2023 (with N500 and N1000 banned immediately). This is overturned on 7 March by a seven-member panel of the Supreme Court which unanimously directs the CBN to continue to receive old naira notes until 31 December 2023. Nigeria holds presidential and National Assembly elections. The Independent National Electoral Commission declares Bola Tinubu, the candidate of the ruling APC, winner of the 2023 Presidential Election; Atiku Abubakar (PDP) and Peter Obi (LP) reject the election results.
Abbreviations AC ACF ACLED ACN AD AG ANPP APC APP ASUU BPE CBN CD CDC CDD CDHR CERC CFCR CLEEN CLO CPC CPI CSO DisCos EFCC EIU EITI
Action Congress Arewa Consultative Forum Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project Action Congress of Nigeria Alliance for Democracy Action Group All Nigeria People’s Party All Progressives Congress All People’s Party Academic Staff Union of Universities Bureau of Public Enterprises Central Bank of Nigeria Campaign for Democracy Constitution Drafting Committee Centre for Democracy and Development Committee for the Defence of Human Rights Constitution and Electoral Reform Committee Citizens’ Forum for Constitutional Reform Centre for Law Enforcement Education Civil Liberties Organisation Congress for Progressive Change Consumer Price Index Civil Society Organization Distribution Companies Economic and Financial Crimes Commission Economist Intelligence Unit Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative
Abbreviations xxxv EMT ERC ERGP EU EU EOM EVA EVS FCC FCT FOI GenCos GDP GNPP GOC GTA HDI ICG ICPC IDEA INEC IMF IPCR IPOB ISWAP LGA LP MACP NACATT NADECO NASS NBS NBF
Economic Management Team Electoral Reform Committee Economic Recovery and Growth Plan European Union European Union Election Observation Mission Electronic Voter Authentication Electronic Voting System Federal Character Commission Federal Capital Territory Freedom of Information (Bill and Act) Generating Companies Gross domestic product Great Nigerian People’s Party General Officer Commanding Gas Transportation Agreement Human Development Index International Crisis Group Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance Independent National Electoral Commission International Monetary Fund Institute for Peace and Conflict Resolution Indigenous Peoples of Biafra Islamic State West Africa Province Local Government Area Labour Party Military Aid to Civil Power National Civil Society Coalition Against Third Term National Democratic Coalition National Assembly National Bureau of Statistics, Nigeria Middle Belt Forum
xxxvi Abbreviations NCNC NDDC NEEDS NEITI NEF NGOs NITEL NJC NNPC NNPP NPC NPN NPP NPRC NRC NSIP PANDEF PDP PHCN PRP PVC SAP SARS SCR SDP SIECs SMBLF SNC TMG TSA UNDP UPN
National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (later National Convention of Nigerian Citizens) Niger Delta Development Commission National Economic Empowerment Development Strategy Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative Northern Elders Forum Non-governmental organizations Nigerian Telecommunications Limited National Judicial Council Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation New Nigeria People’s Party Northern People’s Congress National Party of Nigeria Nigeria People’s Party National Political Reform Conference National Republican Convention National Social Investment Programme Pan Niger Delta Forum Peoples Democratic Party Power Holding Company of Nigeria People’s Redemption Party Permanent Voter Card Structural Adjustment Program Special Anti-Robbery Squad Smart Card Reader Social Democratic Party State Independent Electoral Commissions Southern and Middle Belt Leaders’ Forum Sovereign national conference Transition Monitoring Group Treasury Single Account United Nations Development Programme Unity Party of Nigeria
Abbreviations xxxvii USAID VAT VIN WJP
United States Agency for International Development Value Added Tax Voter Identification Number World Justice Project
Foreword Democratization and Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: Successes and Challenges
KAYODE FAYEMI
The theme of this book is a very important one. All over the world, democracy seems to be facing an existential crisis. In his latest book, Ill Winds: Saving Democracy from Russian Rage, Chinese Ambition, and American Complacency, Larry Diamond captures the essence of this crisis. He writes: After three decades in which democracy was spreading and another in which it was stagnating and slowly eroding, we are now witnessing a global retreat from freedom. In every region of the world, autocrats are seizing the initiative, democrats are on the defensive, and the space for competitive politics and free expression is shrinking. Established democracies are facing relentless scandals, sweeping citizen disaffection, and existential threats to their survival (Diamond 2019b: 11).
There is no Nigerian exceptionalism to the picture painted by Diamond, but the Nigerian picture exemplifies why democracy is a journey full of potholes, hills, valleys, and undulating lands rather than a destination with a clear roadmap. In the period preceding Nigeria’s transition to democracy in 1999, especially since the annulment of the 12 June 1993 election, I spent my time literally at the barricades, seeking to democratize and humanize power in Nigeria. In the last decade, I have become one of many placed in positions of power, holding power in trust, and seeking to deploy power in the service of public good. Therefore, in addressing the question of successes and failures of Nigerian democracy in the last two decades, my reflections really centre around understanding the relationship between fighting against and fighting for. While much of what we did during the years of the democracy struggle was constructed as a struggle against unaccountable power, it was also a struggle for accountable power, a struggle for life, for liberty and for the pursuit of happiness – as the
xl Kayode Fayemi American credo would have it. Our resistance at the barricades was consequently not only to stop power from violating the commonwealth and the people’s will, but also one geared towards putting it in the service of the common good to create a life more abundant. The context and process of that journey to democratization is, however, as important as the eventual outcome. Whether Nigerians agree about the successes and challenges, I believe the focus should not simply be one of transition from military rule to a political society, but the extent to which Nigeria is able to achieve full citizens’ participation in her democracy. Our discussion should also focus on the making of leaders and citizens in a good society. Without active citizen participation, the legitimacy of our political institutions will continue to decline. For this reason, I believe strongly that political leaders – be they politicians or activists – should worry because their ability to lead effectively is being seriously undermined by the desertion of the average citizens from the public space, deepening our crisis of legitimacy and empowering alternatives to democracy – especially populist demagoguery. Yet this lack of legitimacy cuts both ways: when we the people withdraw our trust in leaders or discountenance politicians, we make our democratic institutions less effective and risk making ourselves ungovernable. In spite of the progress made so far in Nigeria, this risk cannot be over-emphasized. But, first, the context of our transition.
1999: False Dawn or Little Beginnings While the elections of 1999 were generally welcomed both in Nigeria and abroad as a crucial turning point, the optimism in some quarters was more cautious. Considering Nigeria’s long history of military tyranny, it seemed prudent to emphasize the distinction between holding elections and implementing genuine democratization of structures and systems that had been shaped by totalitarian instincts for almost two decades. At the time, I was personally of the view that real democratization would require more than voting; it would require a complete rethinking of how our society was organized (Fayemi 1999: 71). Yet, among the many qualities of democracy, having free and fair elections is one of the most important. Without committing what scholars have described as the ‘fallacy of electoralism’, we can say: ‘no election, no democracy’; and, within that context, Nigerians were right to have embraced the exit of the military and the return of the ballot.
Foreword xli In any case, for the pro-democracy movement at the time, it was a case of anything but the military. The assortment of activists and politicians mainly wanted the military out of power. The politics of taking over power was a secondary consideration. As such, the pro-democracy movement was in no shape to comply with the organizational demands of a nationwide campaign for power. There were also genuine disagreements over the way forward by key elements of the movement. Some favoured entry into the field to contest for power in the post-military era. Others wanted a continued struggle to realize far-reaching constitutional reforms. Yet some others opted out entirely, preferring to boycott the transition process until their demands for deeper constitutional and structural changes were implemented. Thus, divided by significant disagreements on tactics and strategy, the movement could not re-constitute itself into an effective political actor. Moreover, at the end of military dictatorship, the movement was too weak, exhausted by the stress of confrontation and the enormous toll that the struggle had taken, to actually mount a realistic political challenge. For these reasons, when the shape of the Fourth Republic emerged, it seemed that those who had worked the most to enthrone democracy were sidelined while those that had been beneficiaries of and collaborators with military regimes took centre stage. In hindsight, it may be said that the pro-democracy movement suffered from a lack of strategic vision in terms of articulating the next phase of the struggle. We were so preoccupied with getting the military out of power that we did not have the time to devise appropriate tactical and strategic responses to that very eventuality. In the event, the all-consuming haste to get the military out of power also framed some of the troubling birth defects of the Fourth Republic, chief among which is the fact that the Constitution – the guiding document of the Republic was not generated through a popular democratic process but by a conclave that simply edited past constitutions. Indeed, the Fourth Republic commenced before anyone actually saw the Constitution. But at the time, as already noted, the overriding imperative was to get the military out of power. Concerns about the provenance of the Constitution were deemed obstructive or churlish worries that could prolong military rule. No one wanted to give the military an excuse to stay a day longer especially when the regime, at the time, was minded to make a swift exit. The late Chief Bola Ige, one of the leaders of the Alliance for Democracy (AD) and later Attorney General of the Federation, once observed that what occurred in 1999 was not a transition from military dictatorship to democracy but from military rule to civilian rule. By this, he meant that 1999 had not
xlii Kayode Fayemi ushered in democratization in one blow but rather a phase of demilitarization that would ultimately lead to democracy. My own sense of the transition in 1999 was that it had been shaped significantly by the manner of General Sani Abacha’s exit and the arrival of General Abdulsalam Abubakar who eventually handed over to the elected civilian government. The dominance of the ruling party’s hierarchy by retired army generals and civilians with close links to military elites set the tone for party formation and resulted in an authoritarian presidential leadership rather than authentic democratic governance. I have once argued that, in essence, the nature of the transition did not ensure a transformation of the political culture that would have led to a complete overhaul of our systems and structures; it merely effected a re-arrangement of the political space (Fayemi 1999: 71). The politico-cultural fundamentals that informed the conduct of elites remained the same. The widespread euphoria that accompanied the exit of the military and the entry of a civilian government prevented a sober appreciation of how entrenched the military had become in all aspects of Nigerian life. Many of the challenges that our democracy is experiencing now cannot be extricated from that complicated history and from the residue of its military provenance. Regardless, it is important not to understate or devalue what occurred in 1999. A transition did happen. However lofty the expectations of the citizenry may have been regarding the advent of democracy, no realistic student of power dynamics could have imagined that democracy would flower so quickly in Nigeria given the long decades of military rule which had warped public consciousness and institutional instincts. It is, therefore, far more useful to see the 1999 transition as a case of humble beginnings and baby steps on the way to democratic maturity rather than as a false dawn.
The Journey So Far The last two decades of democratization in Nigeria have witnessed significant social, economic and political changes. Although the record is mixed and the debate rages on between ‘Naija-optimists’ and ‘Naija-pessimists’, there seems to be a more vibrant industry of ‘Naija-pessimism’ out there that leaves no room for ‘Naija-realism’. Indeed, one often shudders at the various epithets used to describe the condition of the Nigerian state in political science and popular literature – failed, collapsed, incapable, and pro-forma democracy, and add to this semi-democracy to mention but a few. Both optimists and pessimists of the Nigerian condition focus on outcomes, linking these outcomes in a linear relationship with particular reforms and assuming static environments. The truth is that significant variations often exist
Foreword xliii in between these broad generalizations when we move away from outcomes and focus on the quality, texture, tenor, and content of democratic and governance reform in Nigeria, in order not to warrant excessive cynicism or exaggerated optimism. Equally, we must move away from a focus on judgements pegged to macro-reforms on big ticket issues – democratization, privatization, anticorruption, insecurity – that we try to measure in large, dramatic shifts. Opportunities to accelerate change and strengthen governance structures are often missed in the context of this almost exclusive macro/country-level focus. Worse, this focus may deepen the challenges inherent in the process of change, by discounting the significance in all instances of partial reforms. Rather than focus on dramatic reform or revolutionary change, it is important to understand that social change in Africa requires a longer-term perspective not amenable to the typical binaries of success and failure. What has become clear to close watchers of political reform in the last two decades is that, while macro-level/country-level analyses are important, it is the complex mix of evolving factors at more micro-levels that also determine outcomes. Most times, scholars of democratization ignore partial reform, inconclusive contests, transition reversals and democratic subversions, failing to recognize that failure in one instance may result in more enduring reforms. Such analyses focus on wholesome macro-transitions while ignoring changes in bits, parts, or segments of the sub-national systems. The dialectics of reform in Nigeria, and indeed in the whole of Africa, have demonstrated in the last two decades that rarely does transformation come from a single, big shift but rather as a cumulative effect of small, incremental shifts and improvements. In this vein, societal transformation in the past two decades of our democratization has led to the emergence of new social forces, changed the importance of others and consequently altered the relationships among various social and political actors. Therefore, to different degrees and with different forms of agency, people are engaging, or if we like, confronting the state and insisting, both in violent and peaceful ways, that the state must respond to society. What the concept and practices of democratic reform have also alerted us to, in very complex ways, are the fundamental ways in which government is only one of the actors, even if the most critical actor, in governance. It would be grossly inaccurate to say that Nigeria has not made progress since 1999. We live in a far greater conducive climate of freedom than those of us who came of age during military rule can recall. There is generally more respect for civil liberties and human rights. The demilitarization of politics has widened the space within which democratic reforms are occurring. Those who are profoundly pessimistic about the Nigerian enterprise continually cite the absence of economic dividends which might serve to ‘validate’ democracy
xliv Kayode Fayemi in the eyes of ordinary Nigerians as a major risk to the sustainability of democracy. And there is no question that democracy must deliver concrete development – qualitative and quantitative. In times past however, the mismanagement of the economy by democratic regimes was cited by military adventurers who seized power from civilian governments. Arguably, the period between 1983 and 1999 served to dispel the myth that military dictatorships were better economic managers than were democratic governments. More importantly, the reward for democracy is yet more democracy. Proper economic policy which embodies the hopes and aspirations of the people can only be forged in the furnace of a widening democratic space and a revival of the lost democratic art of public conversation. Perhaps the major problem with 1999, and the disenchantment with the pace of change since then, is perceptual. We need a shift in consciousness from the inflated and fantastic expectations of a democratic destination to a wayfaring mindset that interprets our condition at any point in time in evolutionary terms as a continuing struggle. We have to reject the agonizing generalizations of Nigerian life that cast a blanket of stagnation over every sector. The notion that nothing has changed since 1999 and that things have in fact grown worse is cynical, misleading, and self-defeating. They are also discouraging to many conscientious and patriotic Nigerians in public service, private sector, and civil society who have committed themselves to rebuilding the Nigerian nation. From the tone of negative reportage about Nigeria, one would think that such Nigerians do not exist, but they do! The fact is that there are pockets of progress all over the country where change-minded Nigerians have opted to light candles instead of merely cursing the darkness. Over the past decade, the quality of those at the forefront of politics has also improved. There are more progressive-minded actors in the field. That quality and quantity can be expected to rise in the coming years. There are places where transformations in the way we live and govern ourselves are proceeding quietly, slowly, and steadily despite the odds. The elephant in the room is really the need to ask if anything would significantly improve, even with the best of intentions and an increase in the number of reform-minded patriots in our political space.
It’s Still the Structure, Stupid! What the current challenges that our democracy is experiencing speaks to is the utmost understanding of democracy as a permanent work in progress. Few statements exemplify this better than the American mantra of making ‘a more
Foreword xlv perfect union’. If the United States, a nation forged out of common purpose and common consent, perpetually seeks to make a more perfect union, it is evident that the task of nation building will be far more daunting in a state created without the consent of the people and imposed by colonial power. It is even more dismaying if such a state has not succeeded in re-making itself by re-negotiating the basis of its fundamental national association. The structural deformities of the Nigerian federation have circumscribed many possibilities for our state and our country as a whole. It is very difficult to sustain good governance at the national level in Nigeria because of the structural fatalities that have held her hostage. The over-concentration of powers in the federal centre must yield to decentralization of power and devolution of authority. Therefore, a fundamental restructuring of the Nigerian federation is an unavoidable step for the creation and sustenance of a participatory, consensus-oriented, accountable, transparent, responsive, effective and efficient, equitable and inclusive national governance and one that is based on respect for the rule of law. I am convinced that this can, and will, definitely happen in Nigeria at some point in the near future. The fundamental restructuring of Nigeria will address key questions of political transformation; such issues as the writing of a people’s constitution and the question of constitutional governance, the fundamental precepts or authorizing principles of national togetherness, citizenship and the nationality question, the political economy of federalism, including the allocation of public revenue, security sector governance, human rights, social justice, minority rights, electoral system, type of government (parliamentary or presidential), proportional representation, etc.
False Dichotomies – Civil Society vs Political Society My personal odyssey that led me from activism to public service informs my sense of our democracy as a journey and a struggle. I had returned from exile in 1999 discerning that a new phase of activism required a more direct engagement at home with the new dispensation. My work focused on building bridges between the government and civil society that would enable the national leadership to benefit from the talents and ideas of citizens within and outside the country. In time, however, I became convinced that the efforts required to reform the system are not necessarily the same as the efforts necessary to transform it. I faced two choices. I could remain on the sidelines as it were, with my engagement restricted to a theoretical and low-risk involvement in the unfolding dynamics of power and politics in my country, or, I could become
xlvi Kayode Fayemi an actor in the political system, attaining a more practical understanding of what it would take to effect transformation, and thereby function as an agent of change from within the system. I opted for the latter as I had no intention of remaining on the sidelines as an eternal critic of the system. In 2005, I decided to run for public office and announced my candidacy for the governorship of Ekiti State, Nigeria. My journey to that office, beginning with my being at the receiving end of chicanery in the 2007 elections unprecedented even by Nigerian standards, through a protracted legal battle to reclaim my mandate and an election re-run which I won, were an invaluable education in the byzantine ways and means of Nigerian politics. It took three-and-a-half years of legal proceedings before my electoral mandate was restored by the courts. It however did not end there; the electoral robbers and their collaborators had the effrontery to institute a most ridiculous case at the Supreme Court challenging my governorship. This case was decided six whole years after the substantive election was held! Despite the onerous difficulties involved in my own struggle, I am resolute in my conviction that Nigeria belongs to those who are prepared to stand up, stand firm, and take control of their destinies. ‘It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped’; many would recall the words of Senator Robert Kennedy to the University of Cape Town students in 1966, and many of those students joined the ranks of those who made change possible in South Africa. Our young democracy can only be enhanced by testing our institutions to their limits. My case, its protracted nature notwithstanding, suggested that there are embers of hope for our democracy that have to be stoked by the discipline of committed and focused engagement. Troubled and corrupt as our judicial system is, we are witnessing increasing evidence of significant judicial activism in the country, with very positive outcomes across board.
Implications of the Political Economy of Oil in Nigeria I would like to make a brief remark on the economic structure of the Nigerian state and its political imperatives on the outcome of progress in the last two decades. The political economy of oil in Nigeria has had the most profound implications on the governance structure, political culture, and national crisis. Many have fervently argued that the structural imbalance in the socio-political systems of Nigeria can be traced to the politics of oil wealth and its distribution. Some have opined, perhaps rightly so, that the quest to be at the command centre of the oil money is at the root of most crises in Nigeria. It
Foreword xlvii is also suggested to be the motivation for the promotion and opposition in certain quarters to the call for restructuring. The political economy of oil in Nigeria has ensured that there is a general culture of entitlement, a cake-sharing syndrome, and a vulnerable and volatile economic atmosphere in terms of economic stability as a result of unpredictable international prices of crude and, indeed, the politics of violent arms struggle as a weapon of blackmail for economic gains. The entire political structure of Nigeria is built on the rent-seeking opportunity that oil wealth provides. There are endless agitations for more bureaucratic institutions as a way of making the bulk to go round, and an unrelenting class struggle to have a bite of the cherry. This has gravely impacted on our optimal performance as a democratic nation; as it has entrenched violent electoral culture (what is called ‘do-or-die politics’), corruption in all the sectors of the nation, and has hindered the adoption of transformative economic policies that could have lifted investments in the nation’s economy. It has also led to the underperformance of the sub-national governments and, in fact, aided general resistance to needed socio-political and economic reforms that could have led to quicker economic prosperity for the nation. As it would be expected, prosperity without productivity would only happen in an economy where rent-seeking is the order of the day. The last two decades of democratic experience have shown that the political economy of Nigeria is built around allocation and prebendal patronage. The nation has witnessed mind-boggling theft of public funds and the frittering of the commonwealth by the past administrations. Therefore, the problems of electoral violence, sectarian attacks, ethnic agitations, and other enablers of national instability are all traceable to the politics of economic control of the nation’s oil wealth. Nigeria must begin to interrogate a grand bargain that would allow for more focused collaborative work on growing the non-oil economy.
Conclusion In 1999, Nigeria re-established the right to choose political leaders via the ballot. Beyond that, what the people must not do is assume a teleological link between elections and democracy. The notion that, once you have elections, all else will follow is no doubt a pipe dream that is now obvious to all. It is also now evident that there is nothing irreversible about democracy in Nigeria. This is why our theory of change must not assume that democracy is a destination with a clear roadmap. The deepening of other factors like
xlviii Kayode Fayemi the economic well-being of the citizens is a necessary enabler of democratic consolidation. Ultimately, developing and strengthening the political culture or the civic community that can stand between populism and dogma is the most critical success factor. A cursory look at Nigeria’s current electoral journey in the last two decades clearly points to elements of consolidation and deepening of the country’s democracy. However, other aspects of the journey raise serious concerns. For example, in 2015, Nigeria crossed a major turning point with the first change of the party in power at the federal centre since 1999. Political science literature regards this as clear evidence of democratic consolidation. In that same election cycle, the opposition party, the All Progressives Congress (APC), won elections in two-thirds of the thirty-six governorship elections, wrestling power from the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), in no fewer than twelve states. In fact, PDP managed to retain only two governorships in the entire Northern Region of nineteen states – Gombe and Taraba. By 2019, although the APC retained the presidency and gained Kwara and Gombe states, it lost six critical governorships in Adamawa, Bauchi, Benue, Imo, Oyo, and Zamfara states and nearly lost the most populous state, Kano, which went into a re-run. In the twentynine states where elections were held in 2019, APC won in only fifteen while PDP won fourteen – a much closer contest than the picture often painted. The picture changed even more dramatically in the presidential election held on 25 February 2023. In this election, the APC presidential candidate, Bola Tinubu, won in twelve states, the PDP candidate, Atiku Abubakar, also won in twelve states, and the Labour Party (LP) candidate Peter Obi, won in eleven states as well as the Federal Capital Territory (FCT). Rabiu Kwankwaso of the New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP) won in one state. Although Tinubu scored the highest number of votes to win the presidency, the ruling party won only 35.2 per cent of the votes to defeat the closest rivals, Abubakar, Obi, and Kwankwaso, who scored 29.7 per cent, 25.4 and 6.2 per cent, respectively. Clearly, the elections management body is improving in the technical aspects of its operations, but elections are not simply technocratic, they are inherently political. It is about who gains power, who loses power, and who wants power back – and a lot happens in that cocktail. Democracy is more than just the ability to choose one’s leaders. Again, as Diamond argues in his latest book, Ill Winds, it means: strong protection for basic liberties, such as freedom of the press, association, assembly, belief and religion; the fair treatment of racial and cultural minorities; a robust rule of law; in which all citizens are equal under the law and no one is above it; an independent judiciary to uphold that principle, trust-worthy law enforcement institutions to
Foreword xlix check the potential for high government officials to behave corruptly; and a lively civil society made up of independent associations, social movements. (2019b: 19)
The current phase of the struggle is therefore not just about maintaining the sanctity of the ballot but also holding those elected accountable, and stimulating civic engagement in the public realm, in a way that democratizes ownership and improves the quality of life of our people. Nigerians must banish the idea that governance is something performed by a team of gifted performers or strong men, while the rest of the citizens are mere spectators or complainers. During the days of military rule, some soldiers declared with more than a touch of hubris that politics is much too important to be left to politicians. By this they meant that the military had the right to be political players since politicians had generally proven inept. Ultimately, the military proved to be no better at politics and governance themselves. But there is a fundamental truth to the saying that politics is too important to be left to politicians. It is about redefining politics itself, transforming it from a rarefied craft reserved for a select few professional politicians, to the protocols and relationships that undergird personal, communal, and social well-being. In other words, politics is the management of human relationships, interactions, and aspirations in the service of the common good. It is not something mysterious that only ‘politicians’ do; it is how citizens operate. Politics is a civic responsibility. It is how we engage with each other. The pursuit of good governance means that politicians can no longer be left to their own devices. Seen in this light, the mutual estrangement of government and civil society will end. The civil society will continue to express the communal instinct to regulate power, but the chronic antagonism that poisons relations between the state and civil society will be replaced by mutual respect and positive tension. Civic engagement means that the state can access a much larger pool of wisdom and knowledge made available by a new rapport with civil society. In return, participatory governance will become much more practicable across all levels of governance. However, before Nigerians arrive at that new rapport between the state and society, they must work hard to address a lingering threat, a carry-over from the days of military rule. The biggest challenge facing democrats in Nigeria is to rebuild trust between the state and society. The relationship between both spheres is often needlessly adversarial owing to a lack of trust. Simply put, Nigerians do not trust their government and this has made it difficult, indeed in some cases, impossible, to build mass citizen movements for a fuller democratic engagement. Residual distrust of power feeds apathy,
l Kayode Fayemi disinterest, and cynical disengagement. The people distrust their governments but not enough to actively check them and avert excesses of power. Rather, they distrust them so much that they desert the state and many simply do not care enough about the public realm. This indifference is dangerous for democracy. Democratic institutions cannot survive or be strengthened in a climate of antipathy nor can politicians long retain their legitimacy under such circumstances. If the price of a free society is eternal vigilance, then apathy will carry a severe penalty for our republic. Yet looking back on more than two decades of democratization in Nigeria, it is instructive to note that only civic movements mobilized in the context of larger patriotic interests can overwhelm the forces of impunity. It is the discipline of civic engagement that will keep at bay those who wish to turn back the hands of the clock and return the country to the dark days of totalitarian rule. The struggle Nigerians are engaged in is dedicated to making democratic governance truly a government of the people, for the people, and by the people – and by so doing honour the memory of all those who paid the supreme sacrifice pursuant to our common aspirations to build a good society.
Lake Chad
Sokoto
Birnin Kebbi
Katsina
Gusau
KATSINA
NW
KANO
KADUNA NIGER Kainji Reservoir
Abeokuta Ikeja
OGUN
Bight of Benin
EKITI AdoEkiti
Lokoja
ABUJA
Benin City
CHAD
Yola Jalingo
Lafia
CAMEROON
NASSAWARA TARABA Makurdi
KOGI
BENUE
Akure
Key Zone boundary
EDO Asaba
DELTA
Gulf of Guinea
NE ADAMAWA
NC
SW ONDO
LAGOS
Gombe
Jos
F.C.T.
OYO
Maiduguri
GOMBE
PLATEAU
Ilorin
OSUN
Damaturu
Bauchi
Minna
KWARA
Osogbo
BORNO Dutse
BAUCHI
Kaduna
BENIN
YOBE
JIGAWA Kano
ZAMFARA
KEBBI
Ibadan
CHAD
NIGER
SOKOTO
SS
ENUGU Awka Enugu ANAMBRA IMO
Abakaliki
EBONYI
SE
Owerri
ABIA
Umuahia RIVERS Uyo Yenagoa AKWA Port IBOM BAYELSA Harcourt
CROSS RIVER
SS
CAMEROON
Calabar
Bight of Bonny
F.C.T. = Federal Capital Territory
SW SE NW NE NC SS
South West zone South East zone North West zone North East zone North Central zone South South zone National capital State capital
Copyright: Africa Section, Chatham House.
Map 0.1. Nigeria, 2014. Reproduced by permission of Chatham House, the Royal Institute of International Affairs, originally published in Who Speaks for the North? Politics and Influence in Northern Nigeria, Leena Koni Hoffman (London: The Royal Institute of International Affairs), July 2014, https://www.chathamhouse. org/2014/07/who-speaks-north-politics-and-influence-northern-nigeria.
Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: An Introduction
1
WALE ADEBANWI
A Durable Republic? On Monday, 20 December 2021, President Muhammadu Buhari formally declined assent to the Electoral Act (Amendment) Bill 2021 which had been passed by both chambers of the National Assembly a few weeks earlier. The Bill sought to amend Section 87 of the Electoral Act, 2010. In the period between the passage of the Bill by the National Assembly and the President’s decision, there was a debate in the country about what the President’s refusal would signal about the fate of electoral democracy in Nigeria. When they threatened to override the President’s veto, if he exercised it, the leadership of both legislative institutions were lauded by leading critical voices in the political and civil societies (Baiyewu, et al. 2021). Therefore, when the President eventually declined assent to the Bill, apart from the state governors who strongly urged the President not to sign it, most interest groups condemned his decision. The main point of contention in the Bill was the provision that political parties must select their candidates through direct primaries. For most of the Fourth Republic, political parties have used either indirect primaries or consensus (which is often a metaphor for the imposition of candidates by party leaders) in choosing candidates. Indirect primaries are highly susceptible to manipulation and corruption. They have become the most potent way for some party leaders to impose their candidates, even if such flagbearers are not popular among the generality of the party members. Therefore, mandating direct primaries, as the Bill did, was a way of not only ensuring that the most popular candidates won the party tickets, it was also crucial to broadening the direct engagement of party members in the internal democratic process. Support for this chapter was provided by the Oxford Martin School (OMS) under the auspices of the Programme on African Governance. 1
2 Wale Adebanwi In rejecting this provision – while requesting the National Assembly to drop it from the new electoral bill – President Buhari claimed that ‘the nomination of party candidates solely via direct primaries as envisaged by the Electoral Act (Amendment) Bill 2021 has serious adverse legal, financial, economic and security consequences which cannot be accommodated at the moment considering our Nation’s peculiarities’. He added: ‘It also has implications on [sic.] the rights of citizens to participate in the government as constitutionally ensured’ (Premium Times 2021). The other reasons provided by Buhari, were judged by the media to be specious. They included the argument that the political parties’ constitutions already provided for either direct or indirect primaries and that a law mandating only direct primaries would be in ‘contravention’ of the parties’ constitutions (as if the latter were superior to federal laws); ‘high cost of monitoring the primaries of various parties across the country; marginalization of small parties; possible litigation; security challenges of monitoring direct primaries; violation of rights of citizens; and possible manipulation of the primaries’ (Ndujihe, et al. 2021; see also Premium Times 2021). The spokesman for the Senate described the President’s reasons as ‘fallacious’ (Baiyewu, et al. 2021) as the senators threatened to override his veto. Many Nigerians were happy that the National Assembly, dominated by the President’s party members, was determined to stand up to Buhari on a matter that had the potential to deepen democracy. It turned out that the senators were merely bluffing. A couple of days after Buhari declined to sign the Bill into law, the senators gave in to his demands. Most Nigerians were disappointed. ThisDay described the decision of the higher chamber this way: ‘Senate Cowers’ (Elumoye, et al. 2021: 1). The conflicting positions of the National Assembly and President Buhari, as well as the national debate that resulted from the latter’s decision, can be read as a paradox. They were reflections of the crisis of democratic consolidation in Nigeria – including the weakness of the legislative institution, as well as the power of special interests opposed to an inclusive internal democratic process within the political parties – but also indications of the enthusiasm of Nigerians to sustain and deepen democracy in the Fourth Republic. The National Assembly eventually amended the Bill to allow the political parties to decide on how to elect their candidates (through direct or indirect primaries or by consensus), but maintained the other two controversial clauses, the one that compelled political office holders to resign before contesting party elections and the other that excluded political office holders from voting as delegates at the party’s convention at the state and federal levels (Chioma 2022). President Buhari eventually signed the Bill into law on 25 February 2022, thus repealing the Electoral Act No. 6, 2010. The Electoral (Amendment) Act 2022
Introduction 3 was generally praised not only for its ‘key provisions aimed at improving the quality and credibility of elections [while addressing] certain deficiencies in the previous Electoral Act’ (Chioma 2022), but also because the ‘implementation has the potential of sanitizing [Nigeria’s] polluted political atmosphere, reducing election related litigations and instilling transparency and accountability in the electoral processes’ (Ogun 2022; for a robust discussion of electoral reforms in the Fourth Republic, see Orji’s chapter in this volume). The new law became the basis of the presidential and gubernatorial party primaries held in May and June 2022. Four major presidential candidates emerged from the presidential primaries. Two of these candidates, former Governor of Lagos State, Bola Tinubu, and former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, were the candidates of the ruling party, the All Progressives Congress (APC), and the main opposition party, the People’s Democracy Party (PDP), respectively. The notable candidates of two other parties that gained attention were former Governor of Anambra State, Peter Obi, who won the ticket of the Labour Party (LP), and former Governor of Kano State, Rabiu Kwankwaso, who received the presidential ticket of the New Nigeria People’s Party
Figure 0.1. Presidential candidate Atiku Abubakar at an election rally in Damaturu, Yobe, 6 February 2019. Rey T. Byhre/Alamy Stock Photo.
4 Wale Adebanwi
Figure 0.2. L-R. Speaker of Federal House of Representatives, Femi Gbajabiamila, Lagos Governor Jide Sanwo-Olu, APC Presidential candidate, Senator Bola Tinubu, former Lagos Governor Babatunde Fasola, and extreme right (holding a broom) APC National Chairman, Abdullahi Adamu at the APC Presidential and Governorship campaign rally, Teslim Balogun Stadium, Lagos, 26 November 2022. Photo courtesy of The Nation, Lagos.
(NNPP). Most observers believed initially that the main contest was between Tinubu and Abubakar, even though Obi, who was regarded as a ‘third force’, eventually gained a lot of traction among the youth who called themselves the ‘Obi-dients’ (Obadare 2022a). Before the elections were held, some critical voices argued that Obi’s victory and the defeat of the two candidates of the established parties, the APC and the PDP, would signal a turning point in Nigeria’s democratic history. However, as expected by those who had a deep understanding of the most critical factors that have determined victory in presidential elections in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, Bola Tinubu, the presidential candidate of the ruling APC, despite all odds, won the 25 February 2023 presidential election. He won 8,794,726 votes against 6,984,520 and 6,101,533 million votes won by Abubakar of the PDP and Obi of the LP, respectively. The fourth major candidate, Rabiu Kwankwaso of the NNPP, polled 1,496,687 votes.
Introduction 5 Alleging ‘fraud and manipulation’, the PDP and LP rejected the results of the elections and the declaration of Tinubu as the President-elect and Kashim Shettima as the Vice President-elect (Baiyewu, et al. 2023; Suleiman 2023a, 2023b). They vowed to challenge the verdict of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) in court. Abubakar and Obi also each claimed that they won the election (Folorunsho-Francis, et al. 2023). However, in congratulating the candidate of his party, President Mohammadu Buhari stated: ‘The election was Africa’s largest democratic exercise. In a region that has undergone backsliding and military coups in recent years, this election demonstrates democracy’s continued relevance and capability to deliver for the people it serves’ (Premium Times 2023). Indeed, despite the protestations of Abubakar and Obi and their supporters, the sporadic violence, allegations of electoral malpractices, and the significant lapses noted by both local
Figure 0.3. Labour Party Presidential Candidate, Peter Obi, his running mate, Dr Yusuf Baba-Ahmed, and leader of Afenifere, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, at a rally in Ibadan, 23 November 2022. Photo by Tommy Adegbite.
6 Wale Adebanwi and international observers (Adeyemi 2023; Okeh 2023), the elections were relatively peaceful with the results being fairly plausible (Abuh 2023; Gramer 2023), and marking a major shift in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. As acknowledged by President Buhari, there were critical alterations or adjustments in Nigeria’s electoral results map, particularly with Peter Obi engineering a major shift in the electoral fortunes of the two dominant parties as signalled by his victory in eleven states and the Federal Capital City, Abuja – the same number of states won by the other two leading candidates – and his defeat of Tinubu in his home state of Lagos. While stating that ‘the results reveal democracy’s ripening in our country’, President Buhari acknowledged that ‘[n]ever has the electoral map shifted so drastically in one cycle’ (Premium Times 2023). Nigeria’s Fourth Republic has now survived longer than any of the previous three Republics. The First Republic collapsed within six years of independent statehood in 1966. The Second Republic lasted only four years while the Third Republic was stillborn. This last was unique in its experimentation with a form of semi-diarchy, one in which elections had been successfully conducted in all the three tiers of government – local, state, and federal – and into all the other two arms of government, except the executive branch at the federal level. The presidential election of 12 June 1993, overwhelmingly won by Moshood Abiola of the Social Democratic Party (SDP), was annulled by the departing General Ibrahim Babangida regime. The crisis that followed the annulment eventually led to the collapse of the Third Republic. Against this background, the Fourth Republic is different in that it is the most durable republic so far in Nigeria’s more than six decades of independence. Having lasted more than two decades, despite continued worries about democratic viability and stability in Nigeria, the question then arises as to whether democratic rule has come to stay in Africa’s most populous country. Are the overall conditions of Nigerian politics, economy, and socio-cultural dynamics now permanently amenable to uninterrupted democratic rule? Have all the social forces which, in the past, pressed Nigeria intermittently towards military intervention and autocratic rule resolved themselves in favour of unbroken representative government? If so, what factors and forces produced this compromise? How would this compromise be sustained? And how can Nigeria’s shallow democracy be deepened and strengthened? These questions are important not only because of the pervasive unease and the sense of foreboding that critical voices are expressing about the future of the country (Asadu 2022; Beaumont 2021; Campbell 2010; Guardian Editorial Board 2021; Yusuf 2021; Obadare 2022b; Olawoyin 2022; Onubogu 2022), but also because of the fact that, despite the constant recourse to violence, true democracy (as Nigerians are given to describing it) remains the only peaceful
Introduction 7 avenue for the resolution of the country’s seemingly intractable problems. This book attempts to address the questions above by exploring the various dimensions of Nigeria’s Fourth Republic in a bid to understand the tensions and stresses of democratic rule in a deeply divided major African state. The contributors engage in comparative analyses of the political, economic, and social challenges that Nigeria has faced in the more than two decades of the Fourth Republic and the ways in which these were resolved (or left unresolved) in a bid to ensure the survival of democratic rule. These analyses proceed with the recognition that, in reality, Nigeria remains a ‘semi-democracy’ – as leading democracy scholar, Larry Diamond (2019a), argued in his keynote address at the conference that formed the basis of this book. A semi-democracy, or anocracy as it is often called, is a form of government that mixes democratic and autocratic attributes. Others have described semi-democracy as a ‘hybrid regime’ (Mattes 2019: 24) or, as the Economist Intelligence Unit describes it, ‘flawed democracy/regime’, that is, one with ‘poorly functioning government, often one with corrupt elected officials and officials otherwise unaccountable to the citizenry’. Such regimes ‘lack institutions of horizontal accountability that can check the arbitrary behaviour of state officials, especially of the elected branches of government’ (Lehoucq 2011: 275–276). This classification is based on five criteria: free, fair, and competitive elections; civil liberties; well-functioning government; democratic political culture; and political participation (ibid.). Most African (‘third/fourth waves’) democratic states have struggled to fully embrace the conditions of these five criteria. Although, as Richard Joseph (1991a) concluded, hybrid regimes are ‘obviously more liberal than their authoritarian predecessors’, they are often what Collier and Levitsky (1997) described as ‘democracy with adjectives’ because of their ‘mixed achievements’ (Lynch and Crawford 2012: 3). The literature on third and fourth wave democracies has responded to and built on Huntington’s seminal work, The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century (1991). Although most contemporary Sub-Saharan African democracies fall into the third wave of democracy that was heralded with the end of the Cold War in 1989, the fact that Nigeria fully returned to democratic rule ten years later (1999) – and has been challenged by attempts at democratic renewal in the last decade – would imply that the country falls within both the third and fourth waves of democracy.2 Although the country began the process of return to democratic
I am not unmindful of the critique of the Huntingdon’s ‘waves’ by scholars such as Przeworski, et al. (2000) and Doorenspleet (2000). 2
8 Wale Adebanwi rule around 1990–1991, the collapse of the Third Republic before the inauguration of the President in 1993 meant that the country experienced a ‘reverse move’ between 1993 and 1999 – which Huntington described as the fate of countries experiencing democratic waves. Indeed, the experience since 1999 in Nigeria bears out the suggestion by some scholars that the third and fourth waves of regime change around the world often led to the combination of democracy and dictatorship, largely because the mode of transition influenced the nature of the resulting ‘democratic’ regime (McFaul 2002: 213). Nigeria’s Fourth Republic has been neither a full democracy nor a full dictatorship. It is a hybrid regime that McFaul describes as one ‘in which the distribution of power between the old regime and its challengers was relatively equal. Rather than producing stalemate, compromise, and pacted transitions to democracy, such situations … [result] in protracted confrontation, yielding unconsolidated, unstable partial democracies and autocracies’ (ibid.: 214). Yet, in the early years of the Fourth Republic, there seemed to have emerged a consensus among the country’s national elite (both its civilian and military wings) and the general populace that democratic rule, even if only in name, is a more productive way of managing the country’s multiple ethno-regional interests and governing its relatively huge and rapidly growing population (see Daily Trust 12 July 2022). Even if democratic governance has achieved popular legitimacy, for the most account, the democratic administrations in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic have failed to achieve sustained popular legitimacy. Under President Mohammadu Buhari, according to Afrobarometer, between 2016 and 2018, the percentage of Nigerians who demanded democracy and preferred it to its authoritarian alternatives was only 43%, while the percentage of those who perceived an adequate supply of democracy, that is, those who were satisfied with how democracy worked in the country was only 33% (Mattes 2019: 9, 14). Besides the international climate in the post-Cold War/ neoliberal era which is less amenable to military rule, the initial national consensus about the desirability of democracy is arguably the most significant and the most critical basis for the survival of democracy in Nigeria.3 Even International IDEA found in a survey in the first year of the Fourth Republic that 81% of Nigerians preferred democracy. See International IDEA 2000: 2. It is apposite here to note that a national survey conducted in 2000 by Afrobarometer revealed ‘important regional differences [in the popular embrace of democracy]. Southerners display a more intrinsic commitment to democracy as an ideal system of governance, and are optimistic about its long-term benefits, but they remain cautious about acknowledging satisfaction with the current regime. Northerners are more pragmatic and instrumental in their 3
Introduction 9 the militariat4 seemed to have settled on the fact that a democratic route to power is far less risky and just as rewarding, if not much more rewarding, in many ways, including the possibility of constant recycling of the different factions (or combinations thereof ) in power with less violent processes of incorporation. Contemporary Nigerian experience bears out Claude Ake’s last major intervention in democratic thought, The Feasibility of Democracy in Africa, in which he provides a critical explanation for the ‘globalisation of democracy’. Ake argues that the triumph of democracy ‘is mainly because it has been trivialised to the point at which it is no longer threatening to political elites … who may now embrace democracy and enjoy democratic legitimacy without subjecting themselves to the notorious inconveniences of democratic practice’ (Ake 2000: 7). Nonetheless, Nigeria’s Fourth Republic has shown democratic rule to be a far easier-to-reach consensus5 than the country’s continued existence as a single corporate entity. The initial elite-mass consensus around democratic rule, though a trivialised version of democracy, pace Ake, seems contradictory still. While most members of the political class and the general populace agree on democracy as the best form of governance, democratic rule in the early years of the Fourth Republic has failed to meet the expectations of the country’s poor masses and the many ethno-regional groups. Thus, the latter are yet to subscribe to the ‘non-negotiability’ of Nigeria’s continued corporate existence. Apart from during the civil war (1967–1970) in which the country’s corporate existence was directly challenged through force of arms (under the banner of the Biafra Republic), Nigeria has not witnessed a more sustained period of vicious and unrelenting interrogation – in both commitment to democracy and may be somewhat more willing to consider alternative forms of governance if it cannot deliver political and economic benefits soon.’ See Lewis and Bratton 2000. However, it is important to be mindful of the recent spate of coups in West Africa. See Sany Joseph 2022. 4 The militariat is used here in neither of the popular meanings as (1) ruling class emerging from a coup by junior officers and non-commissioned offices, nor as (2) a ruling class based on the alliance between military officers and bureaucrats (which was the dominant feature of the first military intervention in Nigeria). I use it in the sense of a ruling class formed by an alliance between senior military officers – both serving and retired – and the civilian wing of the ruling elite (political, economic, cultural, religious, etc.) in and out of government. The closest popular description of this class in the Nigerian press is ‘mili-tricians’. 5 See Afrobarometer and International IDEA reports cited above. However, as Carl Levan points out, while only 17 per cent of Nigerians in 2000 wanted the country to try another form of government if democracy did not work, the percentage of Nigerians impatient with democratic rule had risen to 39 per cent five years later. LeVan 2019: 19.
10 Wale Adebanwi violent and non-violent ways – of its continued relevance and value as a corporate entity as it has witnessed in the Fourth Republic, particularly under the inept, divisive and dreadful leadership of President Muhammadu Buhari (see Onwuka 2021; cf. Beaumont 2021). In 2013, former US Ambassador to Nigeria and Council on Foreign Relations (CFR) Senior Fellow, John Campbell, in his book, Nigeria: Dancing on the Brink (2010: xvi, xvii), argued that ‘Governance, let alone democracy, faces grievous, structural challenges in Nigeria … Popular alienation and a fragmented establishment have contributed to Nigeria becoming one of the most religious and, at the same time, one of the most violent countries in the world.’ Things have worsened since Campbell reached this conclusion. In 2021, The Guardian of London, in a special report on Nigeria that examined ‘the effects of widening violence, poverty, crime and corruption as elections approach’ concluded that a ‘series of overlapping security, political and economic crises has left Nigeria facing its worst instability since the end of the Biafran war in 1970’ (Beaumont 2021). It can be suggested that while it has provided the opportunity for ventilating ethno-national grievances, democratic rule is also responsible for blunting the edges of the virulent challenges to Nigeria’s continued corporate existence and national unity by preventing, or, at least, holding off, the country’s collapse into another civil war – or some form of state collapse. The un-civil wars – or ‘generalised insecurity’ (Agora Policy 2022: 8) – which have been witnessed since Nigeria returned to democratic rule in 1999 – including the violent clashes over the imposition of Sharia laws in most northern states (Harnischfeger 2004, 2008), the insurgency in the Niger Delta region (Watts 2004, 2007; Omeje 2004; Idemudia and Ite 2006; Obi 2010; Campbell 2020), the countless violent inter-ethnic and communal clashes in many parts of the country (Taft and Haken 2015; also see Animasawun in this volume), especially in the Middle Belt (Harnischfeger 2004; Egwu 2011; Taft and Haken 2015; Oxford Analytica 2022), the farmer-herder clashes (Taft and Haken 2015; Chiluwa and Chiluwa 2022; see also Animasawun in this volume), and the insurgency by Boko Haram/Islamic State West Africa Province, ISWAP (Mohammed 2014; Mustapha 2014; Pérouse de Montclos 2014; Kendhammer and McCain 2018; Thurston 2019; Agora Policy 2022) complicated by the (connected) spate of kidnappings, and the raising of Biafra Republic (Onuoha, 2011, 2012, 2013; Anejionu, et al. 2021; Ugwueze 2021) and Odua Republic flags by separatist groups (Oxford Analytica 2021) – express the fundamental tensions at the heart Nigeria’s unsettled amalgamation (Agbaje and Adebanwi 2003; Olaniyan 2003). As Agora Policy (2022: 8) noted in its recent study of
Introduction 11 insecurity in Nigeria, ‘the cumulative effect of the generalised insecurity is that the fear among Nigeria is palpable as nowhere seems immune’. These challenges have the potential of sinking into full scale war and/or the collapse of the Nigerian federation, including, if the rapid spread of the terrorist groups such as ISWAP continues, the possibility of Nigerian turning into ‘the new Syria’ (Agora Policy 2022: 9), or, at least, the triumph of the centrifugal ambitions of some of the major ethno-regional groups in Nigeria (cf. Rotberg 2004:1). Despite the national resolve to ‘begin again’ in May 1999 when the current Republic was inaugurated, these fundamental challenges to democracy and to Nigeria’s survival were already evident in the first few years. As Agbaje, Onwudiwe, and Diamond noted, in its fifth year, the Fourth Republic has so far survived all of [the crises], but with much of its democratic credentials no longer fully intact and with several questions being raised on its future. Critics insist that the Republic is still haunted by, and remains in thrall to, Nigeria’s troubled history of failed democracies and capricious governance. (Agbaje et al. 2004: xix)
How can we account for democracy’s continued survival in Nigeria in the context of violent and non-violent challenges to the corporate existence of the country as a single democratic polity? What can an analysis of Nigeria’s Fourth Republic add to our understanding of contemporary democratic experiences in Africa? The contributors to this volume confront the different dimensions of these questions.
Background to the Fourth Republic It is impossible to understand Nigeria’s Fourth Republic without accounting for the background to the Constitution of Nigeria as a modern state, the country’s political history since independence and the political economy, as well as the ethno-regional politics which have all largely shaped the current experiment in democratic governance. However, it will be distracting to dwell here on an elaborate history of Nigeria’s evolution and the long political, economic and social contexts that led to the emergence of the Fourth Republic and its relative durability (see Coleman 1958; Osaghae 1998b). Yet, it is sufficient here to state some of the defining characters of the Nigerian state which form the critical backdrop for accounting for the Fourth Republic, one that is ‘literally haunted by the ghost of [the] country’s past’ (Agbaje et al. 2004: xix; see also Agbaje’s and Ibrahim’s chapters in this volume).
12 Wale Adebanwi The first is the enduring question of the nature of Nigeria’s emergence as a single national community. The fundamental reason for the amalgamation of the Northern and Southern Protectorates by the British to form a single colonial entity in 1914 was economic. The British Secretary of State of the Colonies, Lewis Vernon Harcourt, later known as Lord Harcourt, said in 1913: we have released Northern Nigeria from the leading strings of the Treasury. The promising and well-conducted youth is now on an allowance ‘on his own’ and is about to effect an alliance with a Southern Lady of means. I have issued the special license and Sir Frederick Lugard will perform the ceremony. May the union be fruitful and the couple constant! The Nigerias are not designed to be a great ‘Trust’ but a great ‘Federation’. (Kirk-Greene 1968: 30)6
It can be argued that Harcourt, after whom the city of Port Harcourt was named, anticipated the fundamental problems that Nigeria would face for many decades as an independent state. If what Harcourt described as ‘Trust’ could be taken as a parallel for ‘nation’, it can be assumed that while he was sure that Nigeria was not designed to be a great ‘nation’, he hoped that it would be a great ‘federation’. Indeed, from the late 1940s through the last few years before independence, there was a great debate and contention among the nationalist leaders and the political parties about the best political architecture for Nigeria between federal and unitary systems of government (see Awa 1964). Even though those who favoured a unitary system were eventually convinced to support a federal system, what the late scholar of Nigerian federalism, Eme Awa (ibid.), described as the ‘unsettled problems of Nigerian federalism’ were already evident in the immediate pre-independence era and returned with virulence in the post-independence era and beyond. More on this below.
A Semi-Democracy? ‘Today we are taking a decisive step on the path of democracy’, the newly sworn-in President Olusegun Obasanjo told Nigerians on 29 May 1999. ‘We will leave no stone unturned to ensure sustenance of democracy, because it is good for us, it is good for Africa, and it is good for the world.’ Obasanjo declared the day as the ‘beginning of a genuine renaissance’ in Nigeria (Onishi 1999: 1). While a greater hope was invested in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic For more on how Lugard’s appointment as the ‘amalgamator’ of Nigeria ‘permanently altered [the] course’ of Nigeria’s history, see Nicholson 1969: especially chapters VI and VII. 6
Introduction 13 than the earlier Republics, given the near mutual exhaustion of both sides in the long battle between the progressive and activist political class (allied with a resurgent civil society) and the military (and its allied forces), the state of affairs in virtually all facets of national life at the end of military rule was dreadful. An acute example of this dreadful situation was the destruction of the critical institutions of society such as the intellectual formation/academia, labour unions, etc. in the years of military rule. Therefore, the institutions that would be critical in rebuilding the country, and in widening, deepening, and strengthening democratic rule, were mostly inert. Even the Constitution that formed the basis of the Fourth Republic was an illegitimate document drawn up in secret by the departing military regime in the context of General Abdulsalami Abubakar’s otherwise understandable haste to hand over power to civilians. Rotimi Suberu (2008: 454) has argued that: ‘The 1999 Constitution for the Fourth Republic was neither democratically crafted, nor genuinely federal or conceptually coherent, but was virtually dictated by the military and riddled with “loopholes, inconsistencies and illogicalities”’ (Adamolekun 2005: 401). Suberu also cites Wole Soyinka’s denunciation of the Constitution ‘as a military document that was imposed upon the nation, forced down its throat, and was designed to concentrate power’. This is a reflection of the critical problems that produced the current Republic – which Larry Diamond (in this volume) describes as a ‘semi-democracy’. Abubakar presided over the shortest transition to civil rule in Nigeria’s history. The ruling class felt an urgent need to democratize power, if only nominally, because the threats to Nigeria’s continued corporate existence which emerged with the annulment of the 1993 presidential election seemed to have worsened as a result of the ethno-regional biases of the regime of General Abacha. Therefore, with the death of Abacha in June 1998 – and Abiola the following month – the militariat felt that one of the most important ways of guaranteeing Nigeria’s continued survival was to support a Yoruba from South West Nigeria, Abiola’s home region, to be the next president. That they could find one of their own, a Yoruba and former military Head of State who was well known internationally, and one who had also been a victim of Abacha’s autocracy, was a big plus for the ruling elite. However, President Obasanjo’s task was not so much to rebuild Nigeria or provide good leadership – let alone ‘restructure’ the country. The fundamental reason why the ruling elite selected and supported him was to hold Nigeria together and provide the necessary stability – or its semblance – for business as usual (cf. Campbell 2010: 23). Despite Obasanjo’s rhetoric and posturing, he also understood this well. The key was Nigeria’s survival, not its transformation. Both for the international community and for the ruling elite, Nigeria’s
14 Wale Adebanwi stability and continued corporate existence was a matter of national and regional security. Therefore, this essential purpose of Obasanjo’s leadership was far more important than the transformation of Nigeria into a functioning popular democracy and an equitable federal state. However, despite the limitations of the nature of his emergence and the context, Obasanjo was initially committed to limited economic and institutional (not structural) reforms that he recognized as critical to rescuing the economy, reviving the instruments of governance, and ending Nigeria’s pariah status in the community of nations. Some of the reforms his administration embarked upon were also critical for the new president not only to assert himself but also to free him from the stranglehold of the powerful group that put him in power (for a very positive assessment of the Obasanjo years, see Sklar, et al. 2006; Iliffe 2011). However, the successor that Obasanjo personally selected as he left office in May 2007, President Umaru Yar’Adua, became chronically sick not long after his assumption of office. Yar’Adua acknowledged the flawed election that brought him to power. He therefore set up the Justice Mohammed Uwais Committee on Electoral Reforms. One major accomplishment of the Yar’Adua presidency was the Presidential Amnesty Programme for the Niger Delta militants which was formally announced on 25 June 2009. This was an ambitious, and to a large extent, successful programme that encouraged the militants to lay down their arms in return for financial support and training by the Federal Government. At the peak of the violence by the Niger Delta militants, crude oil production fell to about 700,000 barrels a day from more than 2 million barrels a day. Also, Yar’Adua tried to reverse or discontinue the executive lawlessness that characterized some of the aspects of Obasanjo’s attempt to dominate the polity. To give two examples, he refrained from imposing his will regarding the election of the leadership of the National Assembly and also released the accumulated monthly allocation due to Lagos State from the Federation Account – which Obasanjo seized illegally and refused to release even after a judgement by the Supreme Court in favour of Lagos State. The last year of Yar’Adua’s presidency was a major test for constitutional democracy. Although he was sick and dying, the people closest to him, often described in the Nigerian press as ‘the cabal’ (led by Yar’Adua’s wife, Turai), refused a hand over of power to Vice President Goodluck Jonathan. They engaged in what many described as ‘power politics’ (Tattersall 2010) for most of the period. As a cabinet minister revealed, ‘the cabal’ ruled in Yar’Adua’s name (ibid.) and even got bills signed in mysterious circumstances while he was in hospital in Germany and later in Saudi Arabia. This led to several
Introduction 15 months of ‘state paralysis’ (ibid.). It was not until rumours of a likely coup by the military dominated the political sphere that the National Assembly came up with the ‘doctrine of necessity’ to formally transfer power to Jonathan as Acting President in February 2010. Yar’Adua eventually died on 5 May 2010. The struggle over the transfer of power in the period of Yar’Adua’s sickness again exposed the fragility of Nigeria’s democracy and the reluctance of those in power to respect constitutional rules. Jonathan’s elevation after Yar’Adua’s death represented an irregular form of ‘power shift’ (Ibrahim 1999) in Nigeria’s history. Power shift in Nigeria’s political lexicon refers to the elite bargain regarding the rotation of (presidential) power initially from the North to the South. It later became a slogan for choosing the next president from a region different from that of the incumbent. For many, Jonathan’s presidency was not merely atypical in the sense that he was a minority from the South-South region, it was also significant in that he was from the oil-producing area of the country, the Niger Delta. Therefore, in Nigerian parlance, it was regarded, particularly by the Niger Delta people, as a form of ‘resource control’ (see Sagay 2001), a symbol of a limited political ‘victory’ by the people (actually, the elite) of the oil-bearing states to receive a greater proportion of the proceeds from oil wealth. Unfortunately, the expectations that Jonathan, given that he hailed from this region, would work towards addressing the fundamental structural challenges of the Nigerian federation were quickly dissipated. Although he continued the implementation of the Amnesty Programme started by Yar’Adua and instituted a National Conference to discuss the future of Nigeria,7 the ‘resource-control’ president had little or no genuine interest in addressing the fundamental defects in the Nigerian federation which had adversely affected the people of his home region. Not only did he fail to act on some of the significant resolutions of the National Conference that sought to address these defects, he also initially ignored and eventually failed to deal decisively with the Boko Haram insurgency while presiding over one of the most blatantly corrupt and ineffectual governments in Nigeria’s history. This led The Economist of London to dismiss him in the most unparliamentary terms in a leader column on the eve of the 2015 presidential election (see The Economist 2015a). Unhappily for Nigeria, the opposition party, APC, presented a deeply flawed alternative in General Muhammadu Buhari, former military dictator, For a comparison of Obasanjo and Jonathan’s conferences, see Festus Owete, ‘National Conference vs National Political Reform Conference: What You Need To Know’. Premium Times, 28 February 2014. https://www.premiumtimesng.com/national-conference/ time-to-get-tough-with-north-korea-and-iran-as-imminent-nuclear-bomb-test-looms. 7
16 Wale Adebanwi and recurrent presidential candidate of opposition parties, who was advertised as a ‘reformed democrat’. Yet, as The Economist aptly put it, what Nigerians were offered in the 2015 presidential election was ‘the least awful’ choice in which ‘a former dictator is a better choice than a failed president’ (2015b). The choice, the magazine stated, was ‘between the incumbent, Goodluck Jonathan, who has proved an utter failure, and the opposition leader, Muhammadu Buhari, a former military dictator with blood on his hands. The candidates stand as symbols of a broken political system that makes all Nigeria’s problems even more intractable’ (The Economist 2015a).8 The magazine might have been correct in concluding that choosing between these two disastrous options was a grave demonstration of ‘a broken political system’ (ibid.), but this deduction betrays a conventional assessment of the Nigerian condition that led to the stand-off between two factions of the Nigerian ruling elite. Although some of the factions of the national political elites that came together to defeat the ruling party for the first time in Nigeria’s history recognized Buhari’s serious limitations, they were all united in the belief that he was the best placed in the delicate ethno-religious equilibrium – including the factor of the overweening influence of the retired military officers – to wrest power from the ruling PDP. Regrettably, under Buhari, Nigeria experienced its worst economic, political, and security problems since the end of the civil war. As the Buhari years have come to an end, with massive corruption and mismanagement of the economy, Nigeria stares ‘down the barrel of financial bankruptcy’ (Obadare 2022b) given that the country is set to spend 100 per cent of its revenue on debt servicing alone by 2026 (ibid.). The dismal outcomes of the administration’s economic policy (or lack thereof ) are worsened by security problems which the International Crisis Group (ICG) describes as including ‘resilient Boko Haram Islamist insurgency in the north east, long-running discontent and militancy in the Niger Delta, increasing violence between herders and farming communities spreading from the central belt southward, and separatist Biafra agitation in the Igbo south east’ (ICG 2023). President Buhari’s leadership has put the country in a far worse situation than that which he met in 2015. He inherited an economy that was fast growing at 6.3% with inflation in single digits and fiscal deficit at 1.8% of gross domestic product (GDP). By 2019, the growth had slowed down to 2.2%, while inflation was at 12% and the government’s fiscal deficit at 4.4% of GDP. Nigeria ranked 7th from bottom in the World Bank Human Capital Index for 2020 (World Bank 2020; for a discussion of economic reforms in the Fourth Republic, see Eyene Okpanachi in this volume).
8
See also The Economist 2015c, 2015d.
Introduction 17 However, the economy that Buhari inherited – though much better than the economy that he managed and would leave behind at the end of his presidency – already had the elements of an impending crisis. It would have taken a much more competent, fully engaged and economically literate president to steer things in better directions – as President Olusegun Obasanjo did, despite the other challenges that his leadership posed to democratic consolidation (see Modibbo-Umar’s and Isumonah’s chapter). The Obasanjo administration inherited about US$29 billion foreign debt9 with Nigeria’s external reserves having fallen to $3.3 billion (Obadina 1999: 8). The country’s annual debt service obligation stood at over $4 billion (ibid.: 11). The administration, through negotiations with international financial institutions under an international climate that was supportive of the country’s democratic turn, was able to reduce the national debt considerably. During Obasanjo’s second term, with the appointment of a former managing director of the World Bank, Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala as Finance Minister, the administration set the priority areas for macro-economic policies to include settling Nigeria’s foreign debt, management of the exchange rate, and reducing corruption. In October 2005, the country reached a deal with the Paris Club of lenders – including the United States, Germany, France and twelve other wealthy nations – which ensured that the country was able to pay off US$30 billion in accumulated debt for about $12 billion. This represented an overall discount of 60 per cent (Polgreen 2006). The final instalment of $4.5 billion was paid in April 2006. The administration promised to use the money saved on debt repayments ‘to develop the country and reduce poverty’ (ibid.). The New York Times praised the repayment of the debt by stating that it was ‘the latest sign that Nigeria’s economy, long hobbled by a single product – oil – is on the rebound’ (ibid.). The Obasanjo administration also increased Nigeria’s external reserve to US$45 billion by 2007. The rise in oil price from $30 per barrel in 2003 to $90 in 2007, although an indication of the country’s mono-product economy (see Burns and Owen in this volume who argue that this has since changed), helped the administration hugely to raise the foreign reserve.
The ballooning of Nigeria’s debt between 1985 and the earlier years of democratic rule was due partly to the fact that the Paris Club of creditors stopped giving new loans to the country as a sanction against military rule. Thus, the US$23 billion difference between what was owed to the Paris Club in 1985 and 2004 represented interest arrears, interests charged on the areas, and penalties that accumulated after 1992 when the Club refused to negotiate debt rescheduling in reaction to the extension of military rule in 1992. For more, see Lex Rieffel, 2005. 9
18 Wale Adebanwi Under Obasanjo’s successor, President Umaru Yar’Adua, Nigeria’s debt increased marginally to US$3.94 billion though crude oil price rose to $147 per barrel – only to slide to $35 in mid-2008 during the global recession (Adebanwi 2017). However, things took a terrible turn under President Goodluck Jonathan who came to power in 2010. By 2014, under Jonathan, who presided over a corrupt and profligate administration, the country had almost tripled the debt it inherited to $9.3 billion. The Federal Government owed $6.36 billion while the thirty-six states and the FCT owed $3 billion in total. In addition, by the time the administration announced austerity measures in 2014, domestic debt had risen from N4.55 trillion to N7.65 trillion. The Jonathan administration also reduced the amount of the external reserve that it inherited, $47.7 billion, to $32.8 billion, though oil price was $89 per barrel in 2010 – even rising to $103 per barrel by 2011. However, the administration was also confronted with some economic and security challenges that affected the country’s income including a sharp drop in oil prices which began in mid-2014 (when oil price was around US$61 per barrel), the escalation of large-scale organized oil theft costing the government about $1.25 billion in the first quarter of 2013 (Lewis and Watts 2015: 2), and a fall in local production as result of the vandalization of pipelines and oil export terminals in the Niger Delta (Adebanwi 2017). In 2013, the government had to borrow N744 billion to meet its capital expenditure obligations due to the shortfall in revenues. Yet, it was not all gloom. The diversification of the Nigerian economy which began before President Jonathan came to office continued under his leadership with the non-oil sector contributing to growth. Agriculture and trade were responsible for the bulk of the official GDP growth. As Lewis and Watts (2015: 1) show, other sectors such as telecommunications, real estate, and housing/construction also witnessed double digit increases. Despite all these, the general economic climate in the country was dire in the Jonathan years. Former President Obasanjo reflected the state of affairs when he stated, in his assessment of Jonathan’s management of the economy: ‘The economy is in the doldrums, if not in reverse. The often-quoted GDP (gross domestic product) growth neither reflects on the living condition of most of our people, nor on most of the indigenous industries and services where capacity utilization is almost 50 percent’ (Udo 2014). This was the economic reality that President Buhari campaigned against and promised to radically improve (Kumolu 2015) but made worse (Nasir 2021; Olaniyi 2021; Osademe 2021). Nigeria’s external debt rose from US$10.32 billion when Buhari came to office in 2015 to over $40.06 billion as at late 2022 – an increase of 288.18 per cent, according to the external debt stock reports
Introduction 19 by the Debt Management Office (Bosun 2022). Before he left office in May 2023, Buhari’s administration was projected to leave a debt of N39.12 trillion (Anudu, et al. 2022), but it left a debt of N77 trillion (Kumolu 2023). As stated earlier, this terrible economic legacy is worsened by the security problems and general atmosphere of distrust and disaffection among the country’s many ethnic groups as well as religious groups.
Explaining the Survival of Democracy The question therefore arises, why has the Fourth Republic survived despite these challenges? First, I suggest that one of the most important reasons is that the challenges that Nigeria faces are less a challenge to the viability of democratic rule (about which there is apparent popular consensus) than to the viability of the Nigerian state. Given Nigeria’s experience with military rule, especially the second wave of ethno-regional military regimes marked by vicious human rights violations and/or systematic pillaging of the treasury (led by General Buhari, 1984–1985; Babangida, 1985–1993; Abacha, 1993–1998; Abdusalami, 1998–1999), the military is no longer regarded as an alternative to democratic governance. This is particularly true of the strongest voices for national dissolution, in the South, who also identified the ethno-regionally dominated military regimes of the past as part of the fundamental problems of the structural imbalance of the Nigerian state. At any rate, given my argument about the militariat, most serious advocates for the reconstitution or dissolution of the Nigerian federation find no real difference between the dominant civilian and military wings of the Nigerian ruling elite. Second, unlike in the previous era, for example, 1966–1967 and 1993–1998, when the challenges to the viability of the Nigerian state were posed to military regimes whose only capacity was the management of organized violence, the current challenges are yet to result in a civil war or the collapse of the Nigerian state because, although imperfect, the democratic environment has provided multiple channels for the ventilation and articulation of fundamental grievances with the Nigerian state. Thus, while many groups are openly calling for, or fighting for, the dissolution of the Nigerian state as presently constituted – either into an Islamic theocracy (Boko Haram) or into multiple ethno-states (Biafra Republic, Odua Republic and Arewa Republic) – with the exception of the insurgent Islamic group, Boko Haram, most of these groups still believe in the possibility of peaceful reconstitution of the Nigerian state along confederate lines (Onwudiwe 2005: 169–170) or a truly federal system. Third, a less important reason for the longer survival of democracy in the Fourth Republic, is the nature of the evolved party system. Through a
20 Wale Adebanwi combination of genuine and hypocritical concerns with the ethno-regional foundations of political parties in the First and Second Republics, the decision by the Babangida regime to engineer a new party system based on governmentcreated political parties,10 the SDP and the National Republican Convention (NRC), developed a phenomenon of national but ideologically vacuous political parties formed to capture power. None of the national, dominant political parties which have contested for power since then11 have been organized around any elaborate and deliberate ideologically resonant and programmatic ideas about the total organization of the Nigerian state and society. Not surprisingly, none of the four candidates who have won presidential elections in the Fourth Republic was identified with any well-conceived and ideologically distinct or programmatic ideas about what was to be done about Nigeria’s core challenges. The result of all this is that, while the struggle for power remains a zero-sum game for many of the politicians and their supporters, there is little or no ideological implication for victory or success in electoral politics. What is often at stake, particularly for the elite, is access to resources. Therefore, the trivialisation of party politics that the foregoing entails has vitiated the capacity for the organic growth of political parties as representations of ideological struggles on how best to manage political power and build the state (see also Ibrahim’s and Agbaje’s chapters in this volume). Consequently, from one election to the other, both the leaders and the mass following of political parties shift around the two or three major parties without any consideration for the ideological and/or development agenda of any of the political parties. To cite a few examples, Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, the Vice President in the PDP government (1999–2007), ran for the 2007 presidential election as the candidate of the Action Congress (AC, which was later renamed Action Congress of Nigeria, ACN), contested for the presidential ticket of the PDP in the 2011 election, and also for the presidential ticket of the APC in the 2015 election and was the presidential candidate of the PDP in the 2019 presidential election. He again contested as the presidential candidate of the PDP in the 2023 elections. Abubakar’s former boss, Partly this was as a result of the failure of the provisions in the previous electoral laws to ensure that the political parties had genuine national spread across ethno-regional divides and that they were genuinely regarded as national parties not dominated by a particular region of the country. Although, in the case of Babangida, the greater motivation was to ensure that he controlled both parties as part of his self-perpetuation bid. 11 I do not regard the few ideologically driven marginal political parties that have emerged since the Third Republic and that directly participated in popular elections, such as the Alliance for Democracy (AD), the People’s Redemption Party (PRP), as national and dominant political parties. 10
Introduction 21 Obasanjo, who forced his successor, President Yar’Adua (PDP), on the party and also supported Yar’Adua’s successor, President Jonathan (PDP), later opposed Jonathan’s second term bid in the 2015 election by publicly ripping his party card. Subsequently, Obasanjo supported the APC candidate, Buhari, only to revert to the PDP in supporting his former estranged running mate, Abubakar, in the 2019 presidential election. The outgoing President in 2023, Mohammadu Buhari, was the presidential flagbearer of the All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP) in the 2003 and 2007 presidential elections. He left the party to form the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC) of which he was the presidential flagbearer in the 2011 election. Buhari later took the CPC into an alliance with other parties to form the APC under which banner he ran in the 2015 and 2019 elections. Several of the former PDP stalwarts who joined the Action Congress of Nigeria and Buhari’s CPC to form the APC have since returned to the PDP. As for Peter Obi, the presidential candidate of the Labour Party (LP) in the 2023 presidential election, as Governor of Anambra State (between 2006–2014),12 he was elected on the platform of the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA). He joined the ruling PDP in 2014 and became the running mate to the party’s candidate, Atiku Abubakar, in the 2019 presidential election. In 2022, he joined the contest for the presidential ticket of the PDP for the 2023 election. He left the PDP and joined the LP in May 2022 and subsequently became the presidential candidate of the party. I suggest that it is easy for these politicians to switch parties effortlessly because none of the major parties represents any deep commitment to a clear and consistent vision of the total organization of the Nigerian state and society. As a result, there is no ideological unease with the different even if similar regular (re)combinations of key political leaders under different political umbrellas. One major implication of this frivolous party switching is that, even as power has changed hands at both state and federal levels, especially at the federal level, there are no significant implications for a development agenda, particularly in relation to the fundamental challenges of the polity and the economy. This is an example of the trivialisation of democracy as an Obi served as governor from March to November 2006 when he was impeached by the state House of Assembly. The impeachment was overturned by the Supreme Court and he returned to office in February 2007. He served up till May 2007. The electoral commission concluded that he would have completed his term of office by May 2007 and therefore organised another election which was won by the candidate of the PDP. Obi challenged INEC’s decision. The court determined INEC erred and ordered that Obi must be allowed to complete his original term of office. He therefore returned to office in June 2007 and completed his first term in 2010. He was re-elected for a second term and completed his term in March 2014. 12
22 Wale Adebanwi instrument for the realization of collective visions of freedom and development that Claude Ake speaks to in The Feasibility of Democracy in Africa (2000).
The Federalism Debate The debate over the nature of federalism in Nigeria has been at the centre of the debate over the country’s past, present, and future. This is largely because, as the eminent scholar of Nigerian federalism, Eghosa Osaghae (2005: vii) correctly argues, ‘the utility of the federal solution in the management of the country’s diversity and political tension has never been in doubt’. However, before Nigeria became independent, there was a vigorous debate over whether the country should be a federal or a unitary state (see Awolowo 1947; Mackintosh 1962; Osuntokun 1979; Afigbo 1991; Adamolekun 2005; Adebanwi 2016, esp. chapter 5). Since then, whether the country is sufficiently – or ‘truly’ – federal or not has defined the debate around the continued viability and corporate integrity of the Nigerian state (see Nwabueze 1983: Osaghae 1990, 1991b; Suberu 1993; Amuwo, et al. 1998; Onwudiwe and Suberu 2005). Even though the debate has produced divergent perspectives (Agbese 2005: 131), yet it has been at the centre of the three-decade-long agitation for a national conference (or ‘sovereign national conference (SNC), as some of the advocates describe it) and the associated agitation for the ‘restructuring’ (see Ihonvbere 1999; Amuwo, et al. 1998) of the Nigerian federation – reflected in the call for ‘true federalism’ (Osaghae 2005; Ikein, et. al. 2008; see also Amuwo, et al. 1998; Momoh and Adejumobi 2002) and evident in concerns with issues of decentralization, devolution of powers, revenue generation and allocation, state rights, state police, etc., etc. Under President Jonathan, and more so since the second year of President Buhari’s administration, the calls for ‘restructuring’ and ‘true federalism’ have ‘heightened in the midst of numerous sociopolitical, economic and security challenges besetting the nation’ (Omoniyi 2021). As the Nigerian online newspaper, Premium Times captured it, ‘[t]he calls are further buoyed by spiralling secessionist agitations by regional groups who have latched onto citizens’ disenchantment with the political class, economic downturn, rising insecurity, crimes and violence wracking swathes of the country’ (ibid.). Among the proponents of ‘true federalism’ ‘there seems to be a consensus that the practice of federalism in Nigeria does not conform to the fundamental principles of federalism because of the many conflicts within the system’ (Babalola 2019: 133). Even though there is an ongoing contention about what constitutes ‘true federalism’, the key dimensions of the debate centre on the exclusive, concurrent, and residual powers in the federal constitution and the specific issues arising from these, including revenue generation and sharing,
Introduction 23 policing, judicial powers, etc., etc. However, because, as Osaghae (2005: viii, following Livingston 1952) reminds us, ‘federal solutions are … a function of the nature of society, especially demands made by the political society’ on the state, federalism can be true ‘only when it responds to and is capable of satisfying – or managing – those demands’. Given that ‘the instrumentalities of nation-centred (essentially unitary and over-centralised) federalism’ that emerged from the post-civil-war era and military rule are incompatible with the imperatives and demands of the late twentieth century and democratic-era Nigeria, for Osaghae, the search for ‘true federalism’ is ‘basically a search for a fit between demands and instrumentalities’ (ibid.). The struggle for a new constitutional and political order that will ensure true federalism led to three national (constitutional) conferences – 1994 Constitutional Conference under General Sani Abacha, 2005 National Political and Reform Conference under President Olusegun Obasanjo, and 2014 National Conference under President Goodluck Jonathan – which all failed to achieve any major change. (See Osaghae’s and Suberu’s chapters in this volume.) While there is a constituency in the political formation that strongly favours the restructuring of the federation, arguing that Nigeria can neither make progress nor endure without it, there is also another constituency that is strongly opposed to restructuring. Since the 1950s, the positions and responses of the different ethno-regional and ethnic groups have been largely determined by mutual fear and suspicion – of ‘domination’ or ‘marginalization’ (cf. Agbese 2005: 133). In the Fourth Republic, the leading advocates of restructuring and true federalism are the leaders of the Southern and Middle Belt ethnic groups, including Afenifere, the most prominent Yoruba political organization (South West), Ohanaeze Ndigbo, the apex Igbo political organization (South East), Pan Niger Delta Forum (PANDEF) (South South), Middle Belt Forum and Southern Kaduna People’s Union (SOKAPU – see Osaghae in this volume). While there have been variants of this advocacy (in the South East, for example), there is insistence on confederation, particularly in response to the adoption of Sharia legal code across the twelve northern states in the early years of the Republic (see Onwudiwe and Sklar 2005: 169) and, for the most part, the advocates have used the language of ‘true federalism’. The leader of Afenifere, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, warned in 2020 that ‘[t]he better time to restructure Nigeria is now. Any time wasted further would plunge the nation into chaos’ (Olumide, et al. 2020), adding that ‘only restructuring can save Nigeria’ (ibid.). The President General of Ohanaeze Ndigbo, Chief John Nwodo, pointed to what he regarded as the opposition of the North to restructuring by stating that ‘the North had said those of us in the South clamouring for restructuring
24 Wale Adebanwi do not want them to partake in the sharing of oil’ (ibid.). Under the umbrella of the Southern and Middle Belt Leaders’ Forum (SMBLF), Southern and Middle Belt groups have jointly concluded that ‘Dialogue [and] restructuring [are the] only ways to address Nigeria’s challenges’ (Ezigbo 2021). On the other hand, within the same period, many political leaders and intellectuals in the North have spoken out strongly against the call for ‘true federalism’ and ‘restructuring’, despite the few vocal voices, such as that of former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, which have emerged in recent years in support of reconstituting the Nigerian federation. Kashim Shettima, former Governor of Borno State and the running mate of the presidential candidate of the ruling party, APC for the 2023 general elections recently dismissed the calls for ‘restructuring’ by stating: Restructuring my foot, let’s restructure our minds, let’s restructure our quality of governance. When people are talking of artificial intelligence, when others are talking of robotics engineering, of nanotechnology, we are talking of restructuring the federation … Our problem is not an issue of devolution of powers, let’s be very honest. (Osuntokun 2022)
Also, Mohammed Haruna, a journalist and newspaper columnist, described some of those advocating for the restructuring of Nigeria as ‘motivated by malice against any section of the country’ (Mohammed 2016) – the North. (For relevant background to the position of northerners, see Agbese 2005 and Suberu in this volume.) It is instructive that some prominent activists and scholars whose departure point is not ethnic or ethno-regional interests have also dismissed and/or critiqued the agitations for ‘restructuring’ as ‘muddled’ or lacking ‘popular legitimacy’ and pointed to the misuse of the agitations as an ‘opportunistic instrument for engendering or optimising access to state resources’ (Osaghae 2005: vi), including the fact that some of the advocates for restructuring often abandon this position once they are in power, or use it when out of power in the negotiation of (elite) interests and access (ibid.; also see Suberu in this volume). Yet, there is no doubt that the fundamental or structural dysfunction of the Nigerian state cannot be resolved by ameliorative politics or measures which have not only failed to improve, let alone transform, the political and economic crises in Nigeria but have always deepened the crises (see Fayemi in this volume; cf. Orji in this volume). Thus, while it might be easy to dismiss the agitators – and even some of the dimensions of the agitation – the evident political and economic paralysis that eventuated in, and perpetuate, the grim Human Development Index in Nigeria, constitute strong indications that mere
Introduction 25 institutional changes are inadequate. This is particularly so where some of those who dismiss the need for a fundamental remake of Nigeria admit that the 1999 Constitution (Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999), despite the amendments, is fundamentally flawed. Therefore, while the strongest champions of the need to restructure Nigeria often start from an ethno-regional standpoint in their rejection of the flawed nature of the Nigerian federation and the resulting scandalous human development statistics (in 2018 [Kharas, et al.], Nigeria had the highest number of people in the world living in extreme poverty), as Eghosa Osaghae concludes (in this volume), these ethnic agencies have thrived because ‘governments, political parties, legislative assemblies and other institutions are dysfunctional and unable to uphold the common good and equitable distribution of resources’. Osaghae acknowledges that the crisis and failure constitute the basis ‘of the restructuring “wars” which served to reinforce the relevance of ethnic brokers and their power blocs’. Even though it did not set up another constitutional (or national) conference, and despite the opposition among a section of the political class to any discussion of ‘restructuring’ of the Nigerian federation, the ruling APC set up a committee in 2018 to make recommendations on the issue. This was a significant step by the ruling party given that President Buhari, contrary to the promise made by the party in its manifesto, had dismissed the calls for restructuring by asking ‘What do they mean by restructuring?’ Buhari also described the advocates of restructuring as ‘ignorant and naïve’ (Fasan 2022). However, in the preamble to its report, the committee, headed by the Governor of Kaduna State, Nasir El-Rufai, stated: In the foreword to its vision for a New Nigeria … the APC Manifesto commits the party to ‘implement efficient public financial management strategies and ensure true federalism’ as well as ‘restructure governance in a way that kick starts our political economy so that we can begin to walk the path of our better future.’ Also, in its manifesto … APC entered into an ‘Honest Contract’ with Nigeria to create a federalism with ‘more equitable distribution of national revenue to the states and local governments because this is where grassroots democracy and economic development must be established.’ In its Commitment to Restore Good Government … the APC Manifesto again stresses reliance on enhancing federalism through a two-pronged approach that consists of i) devolving control of policing and local prisons to the states and giving the right to nominate State Police Commissioners to Governors; and ii) Expanding the role of the Council of States to act as a consultation and negotiating forum between the Federal and State governments to agree on joint economic and social initiatives. (Vanguard 22 November 2020)
26 Wale Adebanwi The committee made significant recommendations that speak to some of the key issues that the proponents of ‘restructuring’ and ‘true federalism’ have been advocating for, including referendums (‘to be conducted on burning national or state issues before decisions are taken’), state police, state judicial council, fiscal federalism, and state creation of local governments (Shibayan 2018). During the presentation of the report of the committee, El-Rufai, stated: ‘We believe that if these amendments are passed by the national assembly, they will significantly re-balance our federation, devolve more powers to the states, reduce the burden of the federal government and make our country work better’, adding, [t]his is something that people have been agitating for a long time and we have taken the reports of all previous constitutional and national conferences and put these before the Nigerian public in 2017 and these are the feedback that we got – 10 recommendations – to move from the exclusive legislative list to the concurrent legislative list and we have drafted the bill that will enable that to be passed by the national assembly and the state houses of assembly. (Shibayan 2018)
However, nothing came out of the elaborate process initiated by the APC committee. Neither the executive branch of government nor the National Assembly, both chambers of which had APC majority, took any step to consider the critical recommendations of the committee. In fact, the APC government has strengthened the centralist tendencies of the Nigerian federation (see Suberu in this volume). Thus, the agitations for addressing Nigeria’s structural challenges remain unresolved as the country approached the 2023 general elections. There is no doubt that within and beyond the country, there is general acknowledgement that Nigeria possesses both the human and the natural resources to be one of the most developed countries in the world, or, at least, at par with the so-called ‘Asian Tigers’ (cf. Mailafia 2008). Yet, the debate about how to achieve this continues between those who might be roughly categorized as the ‘Reformists’ and ‘Restructurists’, that is, those who think that reformist (institutional, constitutional) processes are necessary and sufficient to transform Nigeria (cf. Suberu in this volume), and those who insist that structural changes are unavoidable if Nigeria is to chart a new course and embrace what many Nigerians believe to be the country’s ‘manifest destiny’ – an economically prosperous, technologically advanced and politically stable country, one that is able to lead a continental transformation, as envisaged in the Vision 20:2020. Among the ‘Reformist school’, two sub-groups can be identified from a broad review of both the academic and lay literature.
Introduction 27 The first sub-group are those who think that a fundamental re-making of Nigeria is unnecessary or even baseless. There are many motivations behind this position, but those in this category think that ‘good governance’ and/or ‘good leadership’ can turn the country round. The second sub-group are those who think that an overall systemic change might be desirable, but is either ‘unachievable’/‘impractical’ or fraught with dangers for the country’s unity and survival. Therefore, this sub-group embrace ‘clear’, ‘achievable’, and ‘desirable’ institutional and constitutional reforms that could make Nigeria work as a democratic and better-run polity. (For some of the specific suggestions that are illustrative of this, see Ibrahim’s and Suberu’s chapters in this volume.) Among the ‘Restructurist school’, there are also two categories. The first are committed to Nigeria’s survival and territorial integrity; but those in this category are also committed to the long-term task of ensuring a fundamental remake of the Nigerian federation, including reconstituting the power relations between the centre and the constituent parts of the federation (regarding the exclusive, concurrent, and residual lists in the Constitution, revenue allocation, etc.). Therefore, this group believes that a constitutional conference (or Sovereign National Conference) or at least, an elite pact, is necessary to work through the process of producing a new constitution that will make possible the transformation of the country. The second sub-group is different in that, while it subscribes to the need for a constitutional (or sovereign national) conference to reshape the country, it does not believe in a long-term process and is convinced that, if the country is not restructured soon, it should – or must – be dissolved. This sub-group are different from the secessionists only in that they do not believe that all hope is lost for Nigeria yet. The struggle between these two broad groups – ‘the Reformists’ and ‘the Restructurists’ – has dominated the debate about the fate of the Fourth Republic and the future of Nigeria. As a new era of dark prognosis for democracy and for the country re-emerged in the Fourth Republic, particularly in the light of the armed and unarmed challenges to the corporate integrity of the Nigerian state and the threats of economic collapse (Obadare, 2022b; Olawoyin 2022), there is an urgent need to examine the Fourth Republic in the context of the longue durée of Nigeria’s history. The contributors to the volume examine the different dimensions of the crises of democratic renewal in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic through the four themes of ‘Democracy and the Nigerian State’, ‘party politics, the presidency and the international community’, the ‘political economy’, and ‘electoral governance, civil-political society, and conflict’.
28 Wale Adebanwi
Party Politics, Governance, and Political Economy The chapters in this book examine various aspects of the first twenty-two years of the Fourth Republic, particularly the first two decades. The chapters in Part I, ‘Democracy and the Nigerian State’ focus on different dimensions of the Nigerian state and democratic institutions. Egbosa Osaghae examines how ethnicity has retained ‘a prime agency role in politics’ as well as the role of the political elites in this. He concludes that, (1) ‘the resilience and relevance of ethnicity depends very much on how leaders are able to optimize its intrinsic emancipatory and default accountability value’, and (2) ‘ethnic agencies thrive when governments, political parties, legislative assemblies and other institutions are dysfunctional and unable to uphold the common good and equitable distribution of resources’. Rotimi Suberu focuses on the key aspects of the structural and constitutional debates in the Fourth Republic, emphasizing the ‘bourgeois or elitist character’ of the proposals for restructuring of the Nigerian federation – proposals which have been criticized for the absence ‘of clarity and unanimity regarding the substance of restructuring and the procedures for achieving it’ as well as the absence of a ‘robust agenda emphasizing limited rule and power-restraining guarantees.’ Suberu concludes with three broad recommendations for reforming federalism in Nigeria, including ‘seeking broad elite consensus on a federal reform agenda’, ‘improving practices of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule’, and ‘optimizing multiple avenues, including constitutional and non-constitutional strategies, for federal reform and renewal’. The crises and consequences of military dictatorship in the current Republic are underlined in Browne Onuoha’s chapter. While he acknowledges the triumph of electoralism, Onuoha argues that Nigeria has experienced electoralism without real democracy – a confirmation of the fear expressed by some at the dawn of the Fourth Republic. As Kola Olufemi (1999: 9) puts it: ‘It is one thing to hold elections, but establishing an enduring democratic order is a totally different and more challenging.’ In Part II, ‘Party Politics, the Presidency, and the International Community’, four of the contributors examine party politics, the presidency, and the reactions of the international community to the Nigerian crisis. In his chapter, Jibrin Ibrahim identifies the political party system as one of the biggest challenges to democracy because of the lack of internal democracy and the dominance of ‘godfathers and party barons’ which has led to the abandonment of the ‘popularity principle’. Although the integrity of the general electoral process has improved since 2011, the prevalence of the culture of electoral fraud, particularly within the party system, remains a major cause for worry. Ibrahim concludes by prescribing a pathway for reorienting the political system
Introduction 29 towards democratic practices. In also examining party politics, Adigun Agbaje takes up the reality of the heritage of the long years of military dictatorship signalled by Browne Onuoha. He describes the Republic as one ‘of dashed hopes’ as he highlights the crisis that has plagued the Fourth Republic including ‘a disdain for rules and procedures on both sides, lack of coherence, party indiscipline and virtual absence of internal party democracy, the overbearing role of powerful individuals and cliques, abuse of state offices and resources, threats and use of violence, near-absence of vision and of idea-based contestations, as well as attacks on personalities as the essence of party politics, among others’. Agbaje seems to agree with Diamond’s summation that Nigeria operates a semi-democracy when he concludes that the Fourth Republic ‘has not witnessed much of the substance of democracy in its ethos, practices and institutional arrangements’. Sa’eed Husaini departs from the dominant institutionalist debates about what parties do in Africa by examining why people choose to participate in party politics. Focusing on party loyalists in the two major political parties in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, Husaini reconsiders why they participate in party activities at the low points of the electoral cycle. Arguing that local participation offers party loyalists a wide range of formal and informal rewards, he uses the experience in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic to challenge the prevailing perspective in the literature that African political parties engage in very limited activities in the period between elections. This chapter sheds light ‘on the political practices of everyday citizens and the ways in which they pursue collective goals through political parties’. Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah examine the leadership styles of the four presidents that the country has had from 1999 to 2023. They argue that ‘the leadership styles of the four presidents of Nigeria since the inauguration of the Fourth Republic in 1999 did not give evidence of an integrated approach to governance and development’. Their analysis of the four presidents bears out Lucan Way’s observation that ‘Incumbent capacity [shapes] regime trajectories by affecting the ability of incumbents to control political outcomes and consolidate any kind of political order, whether democratic or authoritarian (Way 2005: 232). Based on the experience of the last twenty-two years, the authors conclude on the need to ‘deepen the democratic culture of rule of law, free and fair elections, individual liberty, and freedom of the press’ so that the country’s democratic future will not be ‘subjected to the personalities and leadership styles of the incumbent’. Matthew Page engages in a comparative analysis of United States’ response to two Nigerian administrations, the Abacha military regime and the Buhari administration, and concludes that, like the Abacha regime, ‘the Buhari government does not hesitate to infringe on Nigerians’ constitutionally protected freedoms and commits gross human
30 Wale Adebanwi rights violations with impunity’. He then explains the apparent inconsistency in the US foreign policy approach to Nigeria ‘despite these parallels’. The political economy – particularly the oil state and economic reforms as well as the question of human development – is the focus of the chapters in Part III, ‘The Political Economy: Oil and Economic Reforms’. At the centre of the analysis of Nigeria’s political economy is crude oil and the income derived from it as well as how both drive much of what goes on in the country (Watts 2004; Apter 2005; Ikelegbe 2006; Obi 2014). The reality and perspective of the oil-dependent economy in the understanding of the socio-political processes in Nigeria is therefore undeniable. What happens now that Nigeria is approaching a post-oil future? Sarah Burns and Olly Owen provide some data to show that the percentages offered in both scholarly and popular literature regarding oil revenue (in relation to the total revenue accruable annually to the Federation Account) misrepresent the reality. They also consider the implications of this emerging reality, including the fact that the Nigerian state will ‘become materially less relevant in terms of the proportion of economic activity it captures, accumulates and circulates’. When this reality takes hold, although a non-oil-dependent Nigerian economy will not necessarily mean that the oil logic will immediately disappear from economic, political, and cultural calculations, the future of Nigeria may look different. If it is true that revenues from oil are the glue that holds Nigeria (and its obstinate ruling class) together, then what will a post-oil-dependent Nigeria look like? In the light of this, some experts are already inviting the Nigerian ruling elite to start thinking about a future in which ‘government revenue derived from oil gradually declines’ (Campbell and Page 2018: 174). For his part, Eyene Okpanachi examines the economic reforms implemented by the first four administrations in the Fourth Republic. He notes that the reforms were advertised as not only aimed at economic growth, but also directed towards ensuring human development. He then considers the ‘three key challenges that have undermined the translation of policy intentions to realizable goals’. The contributors to Part IV ‘Electoral Governance, Civil-Political Society, and Conflict’ focus on electoral reforms, civil and political society, and conflict. Nwachukwu Orji considers a ‘remarkable feature of Nigeria’s democratic development’, that is, ‘the overwhelming and persistent desire for electoral reforms’. However, he is not convinced about the effectiveness of the reforms for a number of reasons. For instance, he argues: ‘Given their focus on formal, legal-administrative and procedural aspects of elections, institutional reforms in Nigeria are most times drawn into the intricacies and controversies of elections, resulting in a contradictory situation where the implementation of reforms creates an insatiable desire for more reforms.’ Idayat Hassan was invited to
Introduction 31 contribute to this volume as a practitioner who, as head of the Abuja-based Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD), has had a front-row seat in engaging directly with some of the issues examined in this book. Her chapter considers the transformation of the human rights movement under democratic rule, including how ‘attention has shifted from the fight for and protection of core human rights to addressing issues such as gender equality, electoral integrity, transparent and inclusive governance, youth participation in politics, and efforts to tackle corruption’. One of the greatest challenges of the Fourth Republic has been communal violence. Many of the fundamental questions around national togetherness that were supressed or repressed in the years of military rule have come ferociously into the open, often degenerating into violence. The violence seems to get worse under every new administration with the exception of that of Yar’Adua. In his chapter, Gbemisola Animasawun argues that communal violence has become an existential threat not only to the citizens but also to the Nigerian state. After examining some of the major communal clashes in the Fourth Republic, the author concludes that there is an urgent need to build ‘local peace infrastructure’ around the country to stem the tide of communal clashes. On the whole, the contributors, in different ways, provide useful lenses through which we can understand the Fourth Republic, as well as the past, present, and future trajectories of democracy in Nigeria.
Conclusion In its comprehensive report in the first year of the Fourth Republic, the International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (International IDEA) stated: Nigeria is at a crossroads. Now, more than at any other time in its history, Nigeria has the opportunity to build a society that can guarantee justice, human dignity and civil liberties to all Nigerians. It is a propitious time … The burning question is: will Nigeria’s people and leadership grasp this opportunity to move the country forward on the path of justice, peace and economic development or will Nigeria repeat its pattern of a short break of civilian government between long stretches of military rule? (International IDEA 2000: 1)
While Nigeria has for more than two decades avoided the fate that befell the first three Republics – none of which experienced a successful civilian-tocivilian transition or even the successful defeat of the ruling party – the country has not moved ‘forward on the path of justice, peace and economic development’ as most Nigerians and their friends in the international community
32 Wale Adebanwi wished. However, despite the dismal prognosis by important voices within Nigeria, most Nigerians are still invested in the possibility of building ‘a society that can guarantee justice, human dignity and civil liberties’ (ibid.) for all. The realistic assessment of the Fourth Republic provided by the contributors to this book points to the little progress that has been made as well as the fundamental problems and challenges facing the Nigerian state and its latest experiment in democratic rule. For the Nigerian state to survive, democracy must not only survive, it must be transformed from a hybrid system, a shadow democracy, or a ‘semi-democracy’, into a full participatory and developmental democracy – what Claude Ake (2000: 160) describes as ‘pulling away [from] certain well-embedded social and political structures and replacing them with entirely new ones’. It is the minimum condition for addressing the fundamental defects of the democratic system as well as those of the Nigerian federation.
PART I
DEMOCRACY AND THE NIGERIAN STATE
1 Reconstructions, Resilience and Relevance: Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization, 1999–2019 EGHOSA E. OSAGHAE
Before corruption became the bogeyman of all problems in Nigeria, ethnicity – or tribalism as it was known for a long time – was the ubiquitous monster: it divided the people, provoked conflict and war, derailed governance, prevented rational utility of resources and revenues, slowed down economic development, and made the country a crippled giant. There is every reason, therefore, to want to combat or wish it away. In this chapter, I analyse how, in the first twenty years of the country’s Fourth Republic, ethnicity retained a prime agency role in politics very much against the grain of theoretical formulations of detribalization and reconstructions of the structural bases of ethnic identities and interests that were intended to diminish the reaches of its mobilization. Taking insights from elementary concepts of resilience theory as a point of departure, the chapter locates the resilience – in this case continued relevance – of ethnicity in the adaptive formations of political elites who, through ethno-regional, zonal, and cultural political associations, have exploited the frames of political contestation especially at the national level to keep the fires of emancipation-seeking ethnicity burning. The chapter is divided into three sections. The first presents the theoretical lenses offered by resilience theory and the resurgences of retribalization over detribalization. The second examines the character and operations of ethnic organizations and their leaders and how they have exploited the arenas of political contests to advance the cause of ethnic constituents; the third presents the conclusions.
36 Eghosa E. Osaghae
A Short Theoretical Take Resilience theory was developed in social work and psychology to study how people respond to, bounce back from, or overcome, the challenges of coping with adversity, change, and other system-rocking events and situations. It has been applied to the larger social science field in studies of adaptation and transformation to change, especially those that produce positive outcomes (Stark 2014). This does not however make resilience a subset of systems theory as some of its critics suggest because neither stability nor adaptability nor positive outcomes are ontological requirements (cf. Olsson, et al. 2015). As used here, resilience has no such intent. Given the wide range of multidisciplinary interests in resilience the concept has been defined in diverse ways, but most relate resilience to agency and sustainable outcomes. We shall adopt Conner’s (1993) definition of resilience which, from the perspective of change management, sees it as the ability to demonstrate both strength and flexibility during change processes with minimum dysfunctionality. This definition makes adaptation and restructuring, which involve the management of change for resilient or transformative outcomes (Lyon 2013), a subset of resilience. Resilience is, in effect, a complex process that occurs within interlocking political, social, economic, and cultural systems, and produces an equally complex set of stable and unstable outcomes, but these deeper theoretical considerations are beyond the scope of this chapter. What is relevant for us is the political connotation of resilience as involving complex adaptive systems of self-organization, this being understood as a reaction to power asymmetries and structural inequalities, the kinds that propel social movements and end up shaping institutions and practices (Olsson, et al. 2015). Of the various perspectives and applications of resilience theory, two touch directly on the subject of this chapter. First is the one that links resilience to leadership on the assumption that resilient and effective leaders are invaluable agents to the thriving and sustenance of interests and movements in periods of stress and change. For Lyon (2013: 530), leaders are the critical determinants of system resilience or transformation. In the milieu of the market and free competition in developing countries where the protection of individual and collective interests cannot be guaranteed, agents such as ethnic leaders (or entrepreneurs) provide some kind of insurance for constituents at risk (of deprivation, discrimination, exclusion, marginalization, domination), which is why even when individuals are averse to ethnicity and ethnic politics, they do not oppose – or are indifferent to – the existence of ethnic organizations that purport to cater for their interests and sometimes act as default
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 37 accountability agents, as we argue shortly (for the notion of resilience as some form of insurance or security for vulnerable groups, see Stark 2014). Ledesma (2014: 2) analyses the leadership-resilience linkage in terms of three related models: compensatory model in which resilience is seen as a factor that neutralizes risk (the expected outcome is worth the risk); challenge model which equates adaptation with preparedness that comes with previous successes; and protective model in which the likelihood of negative outcomes is moderated by protective factors such as conducive official policies and practices as well as organizational and networking skills. All three models are relevant to explaining the resilience of ethnic leaders and agencies who, in reorganizing and adapting to changing political terrains, take advantage of the fact that ethnicity is a legitimate strategy of interest articulation and is not a crime and, from experience, that ethnic mobilization works, and is one of the surest ways to get government to act quickly (challenge model); that gains of mobilization such as equitable access to power and resources are worth the risk (compensatory); and that legitimation of politics of belonging embodied, in Nigeria, in policies and practices like federal character, zoning and power rotation, makes positive outcomes more likely (protective). The second perspective that speaks directly to our concern is social resilience, which addresses questions of how responses to change are sustained over time. Lyon (2013) believes that, as a sociological construct, social resilience is dependent on process dynamics like history, politics, and collective action that better explain resilience drivers like agency, structure, and power. He identifies socio-cultural dependency in the form of cultural reproduction as a catalyst and motivation for social resilience, leadership and collective action during long- and short-term periods of growth, collapse, reorganization, and renewal. Cultural systems, for example, provide a framework for anchoring resilience – and defence of collective interests – through reproduction of cultural elements over time (Archer 1996). For Lyon, the notion of cultural reproduction helps to explain some of the conceptual ambiguities and adaptation imperatives of resilience thinking. For our purpose in this chapter, culture, operationalized as political culture or enduring beliefs, attitudes, and behaviours that shape power relations, is a major independent variable for the resilience of ethnic mobilization. Although the linkages between elements of resilience theory and ethnicity may not have been so explicitly stated or explored, the underlying assumptions, explanations, and applications of the theory are not new to the study of ethnicity. Indeed, the resilience value of ethnicity in the form of self- organizing formations for coping with and overcoming challenges of social
38 Eghosa E. Osaghae change has long been recognized even before resilience theory took shape. In the USA, beginning from the 1950s, ‘cultural revivals’ and ‘symbolic ethnicity’ emerged in response to the danger of immigrant groups losing their identities to the mythical ‘melting pot’ (Glazer and Moynihan 1963; Gans 1979; Glazer 1997; Cornell and Hartmann 1998; Rumbaut 2005). Resilience-related scholarship was even more robust in Africa where several studies located ethnicity as an anchor in the uncharted courses of social mobilization and transitions from tradition to modernity. Anthropologists led the way, followed by sociologists, political scientists, and economists to investigate how tribesmen, tribeswomen, marriages and other traditional institutions coped with the uncertainties and challenges of urbanization, migration, and other social processes of change and transformation (Mayer 1961; Little 1965; Mair 1974). One of the most important findings from the studies was that reinventions and reconstructions of kinship solidarities, traditions, and cultural practices provided adaptive anchors in the turbulent seas of social change (Cohen 1969, 1974). These reconstructions led to the formation of voluntary associations, the famous tribal unions, hometown associations, cultural organizations and more recently ‘migrant ethnic empires’ with invented traditional leaders by urban dwellers (Cohen 1969; Osaghae 1994a). The associations served as adaptive mechanisms for individuals and groups. At the individual level, several categories of migrants to cities especially recent migrants found membership of tribal unions, hometown associations, and migrant empires to be a useful self-organization mechanism for coping with the uncertainties and challenges of social transformation (Imoagene 1967; Barnes 1975, 1977). At the group level, the associations served as building blocks of civil society, bridges between rural ethnicity and urban ethnicity, and agents of local self-help development (Holmquist 1984; Barkan, et al. 1991; Osaghae 1994b, 2005). They have been most notable as sites of shadow state activities providing essential public goods like schools, scholarships, community health centres, roads, postal agencies, police stations, and markets for which modernity has increased demand, but the state has continually failed to adequately provide since colonial times (these were the circumstances that produced the primordial public in Ekeh’s theory of the two publics in Africa – see Ekeh 1975; also Osaghae 1998a, 2006). The reinvention of ethnicity as a resilience factor in the process of social change had political correlates that marked the beginnings of the issues analysed in this chapter. Like the other adaptive and innovative uses of ethnicity, they have also not received the attention of resilience theorists. The immediate ‘danger’, threat, or challenge that elicited resilience, which was propelled by the competitiveness for public goods and resources that came with modernization and state-building, was – and still is – the survival, well-being, and development
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 39 (meaning progress, group worth and high rank) of the ethnic group. To be able to deal with such existential threats, it was necessary to arouse a consciousness of ethnic togetherness and build a community of interests that tied the interests and life chances of individual members to those of the group, what Comaroff and Comaroff (2009: 39) describe as ‘a culturally rooted destiny’. It was here that the political elites scored high marks by creating (mobilizing) new political identities through the ethnicization of political associations and parties. They may have done so in furtherance of their constitutive interests and as a mask for class privilege as critics of the ethnic strategy as false consciousness argue (Sklar 1967; Mafeje 1971), but the fact cannot be denied that they raised levels of ethnic consciousness, politicized ethnicity as the pursuit of status groups, and fostered notions of corporate interests (Weber 1968: 926–938; also Kasfir 1979; Hall 1996; Adebanwi 2018). In any case, as Brown (1982: 37) has rightly argued, the implied dichotomy between pluralist and class perspectives is misleading ‘since the significance and the role of tribalism in politics are not fixed and it is precisely the shifts in its political salience which need explaining … [what is more important is] to examine the factors which link tribalism as social pluralism with tribalism as elite ideology’ (also, Osaghae 1991a). The recourse to the ethnicity ‘resource’ as a resilience factor, which resonates well with elite mobilization, offers one such link. The foregoing provides a background to the proliferation of ethnic political parties across the political landscape in Africa from the 1950s. In Nigeria, cultural and ethnic organizations metamorphosed into political parties (the cases of Egbe Omo Oduduwa which became Action Group (AG) and Jamiyyar Mutanen Arewa, Northern People’s Congress, are most notable examples) or doubled as such (as did several ‘tribal unions’ which fielded candidates in local elections). The National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC), which had a solid ethnic base in its fusion with the Ibo State Union but was a coalition of several tribal unions, presented an example of another variety of ethnicized parties (Smock 1973). Although the ethnic parties did not always succeed (AG had mixed electoral fortunes in its Yoruba Western Region domain), they sowed the seeds of ethnic politics. The tendencies were entrenched in the First Republic (1960–1966) and continued afterwards in spite of measures taken to discourage ethnic party politics. In the Second Republic (1979–1983), the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN) and Nigeria People’s Party (NPP) especially had strong Yoruba and Igbo bases respectively while the National Party of Nigeria (NPN) and Great Nigeria People’s Party (GNPP) followed the old NCNC path of ethno-regional coalition. Also, in the Fourth Republic, under focus, the Alliance for Democracy (AD) was a predominantly Yoruba South West party, just like the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) which was largely South
40 Eghosa E. Osaghae Eastern and Igbo, and scored major victories in Anambra State, the home state of its founder and former leader of Biafra, Odumegwu Ojukwu. Another important and complementary explanation for ethnic political resilience is to be found in the notion of ethnicity as an emancipatory or liberatory ideology, an instrument for fighting oppression and seeking and asserting rights and redress, that is, challenging discrimination, marginalization, exclusion, and domination. Ethnic minorities especially have been in the forefront of emancipatory ethnicity, but most ethnic mobilizations are justified on the basis of securing justice and equity with evidence of appreciable success (Salih 2001: 22–25; Ajulu 2002; Osaghae 2003, 2015). Once again, emancipatory ethnicity has been championed by leaders of ethnic, cultural, and religious organizations who have consistently used unequal access to and share of state power and resources as the platform for politicizing ethnicity and bargaining with ruling elites and elites of other groups: ‘to the pursuit of more-or-less shared social and material interests, rights and entitlements … to reduce for injury, violence or victimhood … to the quest for protection against the state or from it against others – or more affirmatively, for a share in its beneficence’ (Comaroff and Comaroff 2009: 41). Emancipatory ethnicity has another important dimension that needs to be highlighted. To the extent that it draws attention to and seeks remediation for groups at the receiving end of inequalities and injustices arising from state policies, actions or inactions, emancipatory ethnicity and the ethnic brokers and organizations that drive it also serve as default agencies of accountability. This is more likely to be the case in countries like Nigeria where the state regards ethnic and regional associations as legitimate representatives. The more grievances and demands for redress are articulated, especially when they are tied to dysfunctional governance and state failure, the more likely they are to become public agenda issues. At such thresholds, they elicit government response one way or another: sensitivity, explanation, defence, or action. In Nigeria, it is fairly common for government to invite ethnic, traditional, religious and regional leaders to explain and defend actions, seek advice, or announce redressive measures on matters of ethnic and sectional sensitivity. Thus, President Buhari met with leaders of ethno-regional organizations especially from the southern part of the country, to whom he thought he owed an explanation, to defend the sacking of the country’s Chief Justice, Walter Onnoghen, a minority Efik from the South South in 2019, which became controversial because of the suspected sectional undertones of the action (see, for example, The Guardian 2019: 4). These default forms of accountability that also double as checks on state excesses are significant when institutions of accountability are weak, and where safeguards to protect minorities and
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 41 other vulnerable ethnic groups – such as those expected of state and local governments, political parties, and legislative assemblies – are in short supply. The resilience of ethnicity in the terms highlighted above runs against the grain of modernization theory which expects the growth and penetration of liberalism, market, urbanization, industrialization and other modernizing forces to lead to increased detribalization, defined broadly as reduction in the primacy of primordial ties and replacement by civil ties (Geertz 1963). Instead, the various acts of self-growing ethnic and cultural revival and political mobilization point in the opposite direction of retribalization and supertribalization, with the elites who were supposed to be vanguard modernizers turning out to be champions of retribalization – the educated elites were once indicted by Professor Kenneth Dike, eminent historian and first Nigerian Vice Chancellor of the University of Ibadan as the ‘worst peddlers of tribalism’. Does this suggest cultural stasis or that Nigerian peoples and their elites are obdurately ethnic? To suggest so, I think, misses the point. In its constructions, reconstructions and use, ethnicity is not a matter of existential passion, but a political, social, and economic resource that is rationally deployed in situations where it is deemed capable of serving individual and group goals – jobs, investment, electoral victory, equity, protection, empowerment, and the like (Young 1993). An interesting study by Comaroff and Comaroff (2009) has identified the commercialization of ethnicity through commodification of identity and culture in the global marketplace of tourism and ethnic goods (fashion, food, medicines) as one of ethnicity’s fastest growing industries. The study analyses how the new frontiers have necessitated enormous reconstructions, including corporate reconstructions of ethnic groups and representative organizations as they all struggle to make the best use of opportunities offered by globalization. One of the key points from the study is that the visible content of ethnicity ‘is always the product of specific historical conditions which, in variable measure, impinge themselves on human perception and, in so doing, frame the motivation, meaning, and materiality of social practice’ (Comaroff and Comaroff 2009: 29, emphasis original). The resilience of ethnicity as a political resource is to be seen within a similar instrumentalist framework; it is not an inevitable resort, but a resource that is commonly used because ethnicity is cost-effective and it works (see Koter 2016). In comparative context, a lot depends on the character of the political elites and their ability to function as ethnic champions and entrepreneurs in an organizational manner. The elites in Nigeria have consistently worked hard in this regard. In the period 1999–2022, they continued to do so against all the structural settings including legislations that were expected to constrain ethnic politics. The rest of the chapter will examine the circumstances and forms of this resilience.
42 Eghosa E. Osaghae
The Context and Dynamics of Resilience in Nigeria, 1999–2022 The perceived – some would say proven – conflictive and state-destroying propensities of ethnic politics in Nigeria, which are believed to have accelerated the collapse of the First Republic and plunged the country into civil war, underlie the several attempts that have been made to curtail and if possible eliminate this form of politics. Military governments especially were preoccupied with exorcising the ghosts of ethnicity and ethnic politics as part of their avowed corrective mission ( Jinadu 2003). One of the first steps taken by General Aguiyi-Ironsi, the first military ruler, was to ban twenty-six tribal and cultural organizations alongside eighty-one political parties and allied associations in 1966. Likewise, General Babangida banned ethnic organizations in May 1992 as part of his grand design to create a new political order, which also included a ban on ‘old brigade’ politicians who were deemed to have been responsible for past ills. The restructuring of the country’s sub-national units, especially the replacement of the regions with states, was also aimed at constraining the structural basis for ethnic politics. The states creation exercises had balance and equity among constituent units including minimizing minority problems as major considerations and, beginning from the 1976 exercise, the decision to not give states names that had ethnic and geopolitical connotations was taken to the same ends. However, the grouping of states into six geopolitical zones, which emanated from the 1995 national constitutional conference convened by General Sani Abacha in 1995 and has been used by federal authorities for power and resource distribution equations since then (even though the zones are not provided for in the Constitution), seemed to mark a return to old ethno-regional structures. The names of the zones (North West, North East, North Central, South East, South West and South South) which reflected old historical groupings and tendencies suggest so, and may have worked to resuscitate old political ties and networks, but the zones were new political identities with different dynamics nonetheless. To be ‘South South’ or ‘North West’ were certainly new realities and challenges for identity politics. The military did a lot more restructuring to reduce ethnic politics within the framework of transition-to-democracy programmes that gave them ample room to experiment and introduce far-reaching reforms and structural changes (this was regardless of the self-serving and regime-elongation purposes that informed them). Our interest is in those measures that were aimed at reducing the scope for ethnic politics. The ‘guiding principles’ in this regard were laid down in the address by General Murtala Mohammed at the inauguration of
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 43 the constitution drafting committee (CDC) in October 1975: elimination of ‘cut-throat’ political competition based on a system of winner-takes-all, discouragement of institutionalized opposition to the government in power, and encouragement of consensus politics and government based on a (national) community of interests. From the onset, the focus was on getting it right with political parties which were regarded as the harbingers of ethnic politics – in fact, the military was so suspicious of party politics that General Mohammed asked the CDC to consider the possibility of organizing government without political parties (support for the zero-party option in transition debates showed that the military was not alone in this regard). The military settled for ‘genuine and truly national political parties’ and set out guidelines for their registration, which were subsequently entrenched in the 1979 and 1999 Constitutions and Electoral Acts. As outlined in section 222 of the 1999 Constitution, the requirements included open membership to all citizens irrespective of place of origin, sex, religion, or ethnic grouping; having names, symbols or logos that bear no ethnic or religious connotation, or give the appearance that the activities of the association are restricted to only parts of the country; and location of the headquarters in the Federal Capital Territory (Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999). It is debatable if these guidelines are able to stop parties from having a preponderance of people from ethnic or religious groups or regions as indeed from time to time supposedly national parties still exhibited such tendencies, but the intentions were clear. This is more so that, without national spread or appeal, a party’s candidate is unlikely to win the presidential election which has the country as a single constituency and requires a victor to have secured not only a simple majority of the votes but also one-quarter of the total votes cast in two-thirds of the states. The first test for the new-style party regime came in the Second Republic and, no thanks to the resilience of ethnic politics that saw the major parties reproducing old ethno-regional fears and tendencies, the parties and party system ‘failed’. This became one of the ostensible grounds for another round of military rule and informed subsequent efforts at democratic reforms, especially those under Babangida (1985–1993), which were by far the most experimental and convoluted the country had ever seen. The high point was the imposition of a two-party system in which the parties – Social Democratic Party (SDP) and National Republican Convention (NRC) – were ‘manufactured’ and functioned as state agencies. Later events leading up to and following the annulment of the 12 June 1993 presidential election suggested that Babangida’s motives for the move were less than altruistic, but what was significant was that the imposition showed how desperate the military was to detribalize party politics. Pretty much the same considerations informed the registration
44 Eghosa E. Osaghae of parties under General Sani Abacha (1993–1998), though in this case they were more evidently manipulated to serve Abacha’s self-succession plans. The final military-directed transition superintended by General Abdulsalami Abubakar, which led to the Fourth Republic, retained the template for national political parties. The Republic began with three political parties in 1999: – Alliance for Democracy (AD), later renamed Action Congress (AC), then again Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN); All People’s Party (APP), later All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP); and Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) – and the number increased to an unprecedented ninety-one in 2019. From 2011, however, there was a gravitation towards a two-party dominant system with the PDP and All Progressives Congress (APC) as dominant parties. The APC emerged in 2013 through a merger of the leading opposition parties at the time – ACN, ANPP, and Congress for Progressive Change (CPC) – and factions of the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) and PDP. In effect, the legislation of national political parties and pluralistic (cross-ethnic and cross-state) electoral majorities endured as military legacies for checkmating ethnic politics. Despite these reforms, ethnic politics remained alive and decisive in the Fourth Republic as a key element and conditioner of power relations in the country. This time, however, the political parties were not the main propagators of ethnicity (suggesting in some sense that the efforts of the military may finally have paid off ). Even though ethnicity remained a key strategy for mobilizing support, the major parties were relatively national in scope, and it would seem that they were able to keep ethnic politics within the parties. The propagation of ethnicity lay in the adaptive and resilient activities of sections of the political elites which employed mixes of ethnic, cultural, religious, regional, and zonal organizations and networks to act as champions and brokers of ethnic interests in ways that influenced political choices even within the parties. The following commentary on the eve of the 2019 elections by Edwin Madunagu, one of Nigeria’s leading radical analysts, helps to put this in perspective: Nigeria’s ruling class, as a class, does not see the coming elections simply as a struggle between APC, PDP and other participating parties. Rather, it sees the contest as a battle involving the ruling class’s two power blocs and a number of political forces. These blocs and forces are seen as essentially ethnic, regional and religious. Put differently, Nigeria’s ruling class does not see APC, PDP and other ruling class parties as the highest political expressions of their class. Rather, it considers the power blocs and political forces as higher political expressions. If you cannot easily apprehend my use of ‘power blocs and political forces’, look at the formations described by the Nigerian media as ‘sociocultural’ or
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 45 ‘socio-political’: Arewa Consultative Forum, Northern Elders Forum, Afenifere, Ohanaeze, Middle-Belt Forum, etc. To examine my proposition, it is sufficient, for a start, to check out the current debate within the ruling class, through leading party and government functionaries and spokespersons of the sociocultural and socio-political groups on the movement of Nigeria’s presidency in 2023. You will see that from time to time these functionaries and spokespersons are compelled – for the avoidance of doubt – to come out openly on the ethnic, regional – and even religious–dimensions of the struggle, which the fractions and factions of their class are currently waging. (Madunagu 2019)
The ‘power blocs and political forces’ were even more vocal and assertive in the run up to the 2023 elections when agitations over ethnic, regional, and religious rights and entitlements, as well as rotation, selection, and balancing of presidential candidates within the two major parties reached unprecedented levels, provoked as they were by deteriorating levels of national cohesion, pervasive insecurity, economic decline, and allegations of marginalization, exclusion, and injustice. The major ethno-regional power blocs were at daggers-drawn, with the Southern and Middle Belt groups insisting that it was the turn of the South to have the presidency (for the Igbo South Eastern power blocs, this meant Igbo candidacy) and the core Northern power blocs in opposition. How do we explain these tendencies? Which political organizations and elites are involved, what ‘resources’ prospered and propelled their activities, and how did they manage to keep the fires of ethnicity burning? To begin, it is necessary to specify the categories of ethnic organizations or platforms of reference. They are the ethnic, cultural, religious, and zonal/ regional associations that have been active in the Fourth Republic, which according to Madunagu, the Nigerian media refers to as ‘socio-cultural’ or ‘socio-political’ groups: Arewa Consultative Forum (ACF), Northern Elders Forum (NEF), Afenifere, Yoruba Council of Elders (YCE), Ohanaeze Ndigbo, Middle Belt Forum, Pan Niger Delta Forum (PANDEF), South South People’s Assembly (SSPA), and Southern and Middle Belt Leaders’ Forum (SMBLF). Apart from Afenifere (Yoruba) and Ohanaeze (Igbo) which had specific ethnic complexion, the others are zonal and regional groups, alliances or coalitions that constitute what we may call ethnic categories to the extent that they are organized to advance underlying ethnic interests. The associations are not political parties, and are to be further differentiated from more militant ethnic movements like Indigenous Peoples of Biafra (IPOB), Biafra Independent Movement, Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND), Arewa People’s Congress, and Oodua People’s Congress (OPC). The latter belong to Ekeh’s (1992) category, ‘deviant’ civil society groups, whose
46 Eghosa E. Osaghae non-conformist violent and armed strategies make them different from the category of ‘civic public associations’ to which the more civil socio-cultural and socio-political groups belong. These distinctions are however more ideal-type than real because, from time to time, boundaries were crisscrossed: militant groups aligned with the civic public associations, and the latter threw their weights behind parties or candidates in furtherance of strategic interests, and so on. Afenifere in fact established AD as its political wing in 1998 to back up the Yoruba/South West claims to power shift in the Fourth Republic: in the 2003 elections, it threw its weight behind President Obasanjo and the PDP; in the 2007 and 2015 elections, it supported General Buhari and President Jonathan respectively; in 2019, it joined forces with Ohanaeze, Middle Belt Forum (MBF), the NEF, and PANDEF to support the opposition PDP and its presidential candidate, Atiku Abubakar; and in 2022 joined forces with the same groups to demand a Southern presidential ticket and oppose the APC Muslim-Muslim presidential ticket – all ostensibly in pursuance of the group’s restructuring agenda. A final characteristic of the socio-political organizations is that they position themselves as the authoritative agents and representatives of their ethnoregional and zonal groups. From media narratives which portrayed them as voices and defenders of ethnic constituencies and the state’s recognition and engagements with them as such, this was a successful venture. ACF emerged from a meeting of northern elders called by the Sultan of Sokoto, Muhammadu Maccido, to forge a united platform for advancing northern interests within the Nigerian federation. The Forum held consultative meetings with governors and political leaders in the nineteen northern states to harmonize collective interests and agenda from time to time, and became widely recognized as the articulator and defender of northern views and positions on national issues. On its part, Ohanaeze, with the ime-obi (inner caucus or executive) as its decisionmaking body, claimed its declared political preferences were binding on all Igbo. Ohanaeze set up a committee of 100 Igbo leaders in 2017 to formulate an Igbo agenda which, as adopted in the Awka Declaration of 2018, had restructuring and true federalism that assured resource control, devolution, local government autonomy, rotational presidency, and collaboration with like-minded groups, as key to the actualization of Igbo interests. In 2022, it not only insisted that it was the turn of the Igbo to be President, but also led other South Eastern groups to reject any Igbo who agreed to be running mate. At the height of insecurity occasioned by killing herdsmen (discussed below), Ohanaeze asked Ndigbo to be vigilant and reactivate local defence outfits to counter the threats, and ‘to await our next directives after consultation with our political and religious leaders, legislators, traditional rulers, town unions
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 47 and affiliate organizations’ (Vanguard 2017, emphasis added). It assumed a similar role – with the blessing of the South East Governors’ Forum – in ‘banning’ the activities of IPOB, declaring that the restoration of Biafra was not on the Igbo agenda, and even went to the extent of ‘approving’ three international festivals to boost the unity of all Igbo at home and in the diaspora. These positions and ‘directives’ did not always go uncontested, but the associations enjoyed a respectable measure of acceptance not just as representatives but defenders of ethnic, zonal, and regional interests. Thus, a northern legislator whose membership of the House of Representatives gave him a more legitimate voice nonetheless believed that ‘ACF was in the best position to speak for the north’ and that legislators preferred to forward their views on such issues to the Forum ‘for appropriate responses’ (Ajani 2011: 5). Next, we need to define the political elites who lead and organize these groups, those we characterize as ethnic brokers and champions. They belong mostly to the ranks of elder statesmen, retired bureaucrats, politicians, diplomats, technocrats, professionals, academics, religious leaders, military, police and security officers, traditional chiefs, and private sector notables, as well as young non-public sector professionals, civil society leaders, progressives, and political activists, who all share commitment and zeal to ostensibly pursuing the common good of their respective ethnic groups and categories. The unwritten creed of membership emphasizes untainted reputation, integrity, and credibility that go with ‘character, qualifications or career achievements’ (Koter 2016:3), a track record of progressive and emancipatory commitments (such as, in the case of Afenifere, loyalty to the nationalistic and altruistic ideals of Obafemi Awolowo and AG to whom the origins of Afenifere are traced, involvement in the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO) and democratic struggles in the Yoruba South West), and as much as possible, non-membership of political parties (since the associations claim to be non-partisan in this sense) as criteria for belonging. At various times, ACF’s leaders included retired Inspectors General of Police (MD Yusuf, Ibrahim Coomasie), retired Generals (IBM Haruna, Jeremiah Useni), and retired permanent secretaries (Sunday Awoniyi and Ahmed Joda). The following listing of ‘eligible’ elder statesmen who were excluded from leadership of Afenifere reveals the popular expectations of who qualifies: Justice Abdul Jabbar Ajibola, former attorney general and minister of justice and former judge of the world court … Baba Habib Fasinro is 99 years old, a retired and accomplished civil servant … the first African professor of geology, professor emeritus Mohammed Oyawoye … what of Professor DOS Noibi, who is so much recognized internationally as a scholar that the Queen of England awarded him the prestigious honour
48 Eghosa E. Osaghae of Order of the British Empire … We can continue ad infinitum to mention Yoruba Muslims who are qualified to be in the Yoruba Council of Elders. (Adunola 2018: 7, emphasis added)
The elites also consider themselves ‘above board’ relative to ‘politicians’ and many hinge their legitimation on not being politicians, many of whom are seen as compromised, deceitful, and incapable of representing the true interests of their constituencies. It is largely for this reason that the brokers get involved in the selection and nomination of candidates from their ethnic constituencies for presidential and gubernatorial elections, ostensibly to ensure that only deserving, responsible, and trustworthy politicians are chosen. In any case, most of these elites do not have the wealth and resources with which politicians buy support, and therefore think of their interventions as more altruistic. These legitimating frames are crucial because the leaders are selfappointed and not elected or legitimized by other legal-rational or traditional means, although some of them enjoy some bit of charisma and respect from past heroic roles. The fact that some of them were unsuccessful politicians who lost elections in the past made legitimation by other means even more crucial. Moreover, they often had to compete with mainstream politicians, elected office holders at federal, state, and local government levels, and with rival associations also claiming to represent the ethnic constituencies. A case in point was the confrontation between the Ohanaeze and leaders of IPOB over which group had the ‘legitimate’ voice on the renascent agenda of Biafra secession. The Muslim Community of Oyo State also accused Afenifere of excluding Muslim Yorubas from its board of trustees and perpetrating Christian political domination of the South West. From time to time, the solidarity and cohesion of the associations were rocked by internal disputes and factional politics, but they managed to stay afloat. What were the resilience resources or enablers that aided the relevance of the leaders and socio-political and socio-cultural groups? The first and most underlying has to be the role of ethnic brokers in the construction and reconstruction of ethnic identities, boundaries, and interests. As is fairly well established in the literature on ethnicity, especially by old anthropological perspectives of segmentary opposition and shifting alliances, the range and limits of ethnic boundaries are elastic and often shaped by a hierarchy of affiliations that allows fusion of interests within a merging series of groups. This enables ethnic brokers to make situational and strategic choices on rivalry and alliance, as Barth (1959) demonstrates in his application of games theory and coalition building to the politics of segmentary opposition. In the Nigerian context, shifting alliances and dynamic networks have led to reconstructions of
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 49 ethnicity from groups of particularistic identities to ethnic categories that are built around geopolitical zones and regions. This explains the relatively fluid transition to new zonal identities which took firm roots in the Fourth Republic and were increasingly used as the country’s constituent units in distributive and allocative matrixes and calculations. The identities may have been new (those of the South South, North Central and North West were relatively new), but the ethnic brokers quickly reconstructed identities around them. References to ‘those of us from the South South’, ‘our traditions in the North East’, ‘South West people are well cultured’, and generalizations of dress types across the zones of which ‘South South’ styles were most notable, became symbols of ethnic categories. Such boundary fluidities prospered the strategic options of ethnic brokers. The other enabling resources are more structural and historical. The structural resources derive from the centrality of ethnicity to citizenship and state-citizen relations which are intermediated by group of origin. Comaroff and Comaroff (2009: 50) have analysed this as the ‘conditionality of citizenship’, ‘the fact that it is overlaid and undercut by a politics of difference’; a situation in which people are conditionally citizens of nation-states, attaching themselves, their personal fates, to the primary groups to which they belong (also Osaghae 2016). The same conditionality also underlies policies and practices of power sharing, resource distribution, and political accommodation and expectations (entitlements) built around them that are manifest in the federal character principle and zoning, power rotation, and balance arrangements that became fully entrenched under the military as necessary instrumentalities of centralized federalism. The allocative uses of ethnicity have engendered a culture of entitlement, rights, and privileges that provides the protective and enabling environment for politicized and liberatory ethnicity as well as its default accountability roles. This was a much needed legitimation resource for the socio-political groups as perceptions and allegations of exclusion, domination, marginalization, and the like justified demands for redress and restructuring of power relations and other interventions; the state had to respond to and account for these demands. These tendencies are familiar terrain in the country’s history, but developments leading up to and in the Fourth Republic reinforced them and increased the relevance of the interventions and mobilizations by the socio-political groups. The annulment of the presidential election of 12 June 1993, which was won by Chief Moshood Abiola of the SDP, marked the turning point. Although General Babangida, the military Head of State tried to justify the action on the basis of flawed electoral arrangements, politicization of the
50 Eghosa E. Osaghae judiciary, and conflict of interest between the presidential candidates and government that was capable of compromising their positions if they became president, the annulment threw the country into turmoil and resurrected old ethnic and regional fears and animosities. For the Yoruba South West in particular and southern groups as a whole, the annulment confirmed fears of an agenda of state capture domination, even monopoly, by the Northern political elites represented by the military leaders. As agencies of the Federal Government, the two political parties at the time – SDP and NRC – were too constrained to offer any serious resistance to the military onslaught or to even articulate the divisions provoked by the annulment. This left the field to the leading socio-political associations at the time – Egbe Ilosiwaju Yoruba, Eastern Forum, NEF, MBF, Ethnic Minorities Rights Organization of Africa, Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People, Association of Minority States, Committee of Oil Producing Areas – and their civil society allies to respond to the politics of annulment. The annulment provoked unprecedented opposition to military rule locally and globally. Socio-cultural and socio-political organizations especially from the South West, South South, and North Central became part of the pro-democracy movement, which crystallized around NADECO. It is to be noted that involvement in NADECO (which had a strong Yoruba base) and the struggle following the 12 June election annulment became key credentials for leadership in Afenifere especially but Middle Belt and South South groups as well in the Fourth Republic. This was tied to a major item on the agenda of the ‘June 12 movement’, as the opposition to military rule came to be known: the remediation of the ‘injustice of the annulment’ which for most people, meant restoration of the mandate if not to Abiola, then to the Yoruba South West. The fact that this ‘power shift’ (from the North to the South, specifically the South West) remediation was one of the major planks of the successful transition to the Fourth Republic must count as a major victory for the efforts of ethnic brokers and socio-political groups from the South West, who demonstrated their ability to defend the interests of the Yoruba. It also laid the foundations for other justice and remediation-seeking advocacies and mobilizations, thereby increasing the visibility and relevance of ethnic brokers and associations, which were very much in evidence in the run up to the 2023 elections and the presidential election in particular. The demands for political restructuring and true federalism that dominated the final years of military rule and continued well into the Fourth Republic afforded the opportunity for the brokers and associations to further demonstrate their resilience. Demands for restructuring the federal system in Nigeria have a long history of being, first, signifiers of dysfunctionality, and second, the fulcrum of the
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 51 system’s inbuilt mechanism for seeking redress (Osaghae 2008). The circumstances were not different in the Fourth Republic, but this time they were compelled by damages to the federal system by prolonged military rule. The military bequeathed a hyper-centralized system in which the Federal Government exercised wide-ranging and almost limitless powers, and the states were assigned only a few and highly constrained matters and lacked the fiscal capacities to function as respectably autonomous federating units. This slant of military federalism which was preserved by the presidential system of government and dominance of executive governance was antithetical to democratic federalism that thrives on bargaining, constitutional power sharing, devolution, and relative sub-national autonomy. Military federalism was more dangerous because of its vulnerability to state capture and domination especially in the aftermath of 12 June, and many advocates of restructuring believed the dangers and fears could only be obviated by curtailing the powers of the Federal Government and expanding those of sub-national units along the lines of the federal system embodied in the 1963 Constitution. With regard to fiscal relations, the dominant view was for more resources and revenues to be devolved to the states, while resource-bearing groups, led by the oil-rich communities of the Niger Delta pushed for resource control and increased revenues based on derivation. A number of developments seriously challenged the efficacy and tenability of the hyper-centralized federal system and made restructuring imperative. First was the volatility of world trade and the intermittent shocks of falling prices of crude oil, the country’s main revenue earner that predisposed the country to cycles of recession in which sub-national governments were the worst hit. At one point, states barely managed to survive on the shoestring of bailout funds by the ‘benevolent’ Federal Government and many of them could not discharge basic functions like paying salaries. All this was in addition to many of them having, like the Federal Government, huge domestic and foreign debts. Second was the outbreak of Boko Haram terrorism, which, although largely restricted to the North East region at the onset, heightened fears and tensions over religious and ethnic divisions, as other bands of terrorists – bandits, kidnappers, insurgents and killer gangs – joined the fray. The adoption of Sharia law by many states in the North and fundamentalist activities by the Shiites and other groups further raised the stakes. Third, and arguably the greatest problem, was the increased insecurity of lives and property throughout the country, especially from 2016. A large part of this involved the phenomenal rise in armed robbery, kidnapping, ritual killings, and other violent crimes, but by far the most serious of all and one
52 Eghosa E. Osaghae which became the most highly politicized, involved Fulani herdsmen. Forced by desertification to migrate southward in search of pastures for livestock, the herdsmen increasingly conflicted with farmers and host communities especially in the North Central, South West, South East, and South South geopolitical zones. In the North Central states of Benue, Plateau, Adamawa, and Taraba, historical disputes over ownership and access to land and other resources were resurrected. Over time the character of the conflicts changed dramatically into attacks on communities, abductions, and killings on highways by criminal gangs of herdsmen – mostly in the Southern and Middle Belt parts of the country – in what I have analysed elsewhere as ‘deadly ethnic riots’ (Osaghae 2017). Poor – or what some regarded as partisan – handling of the herders crisis by federal authorities led to allegations of ‘hidden agenda’, ‘ethnic cleansing’, ‘ethnic domination’, and ‘state capture’. The failure to apprehend or try perpetrators of the attacks (which included such high-profile cases as the abduction of Olu Falae, leader of Afenifere and AD presidential candidate in 1999, the killing of the daughter of Pa Reuben Fasoranti, Afenifere Chairman by suspected herdsmen, the abduction of Chibok school girls and of over 100 Abuja-Kaduna train passengers in 2022), and responses such as the proposal to create cattle colonies across the country which clearly favoured the herders, were cited as evidence of complicity. As usual, the ethnic socio-political associations, as ‘defenders’ of ethnic and zonal interests, led the protests on behalf of their affected constituencies for whom they demanded protection. Afenifere and Ohanaeze included a resort to traditional methods of self-defence in their protection proposals, and argued that the inability of federal authorities to protect citizens further reinforced the need for state police, among other demands of restructuring (the low-key and sometimes pro-Fulani stance of the ACF by contrast reinforced suspicions of a possible state capture agenda). These articulations and pressures and, of course, the failure of the Federal Government, which had exclusive responsibility for safety and security, to act decisively to safeguard lives and property encouraged state governments (with the active support of ethno-regional power blocs) to adopt protective legislations and consider the formation of state and zonal security outfits: the South West states ended up establishing Amotekun, while the South East states organized Ebube Agu, and some zones in the North contemplated similar bodies. Once again, the politics of restructuring was left to the ethnic brokers and ethno-regional associations as the major political parties and sub-national units appeared too constrained to lead the process. In the case of political parties, the fact that that they were products, beneficiaries, and conduits of
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 53 over-centralization was a disincentive for restructuring. The APC did welcome restructuring in its election manifesto and even set up a committee on the subject, but these appeared to have been ploys to garner electoral support (the PDP and its presidential candidate, Atiku Abubakar, did the same thing in 2019). As for state governments which stood to benefit most from a restructured federal system with a less imperial federal government, issues of party discipline and loyalty to the President played a great role. The actions of a few states like Lagos, Abia, and Ogun which successfully defended state rights and checkmated federal might in some important respects through litigation at the Supreme Court were the exception, and were more likely when the states were controlled by opposition parties. On balance, state governments were unenthusiastic, and many of them even opposed some of the more popular levers of restructuring such as local government autonomy and state police (see Suberu’s chapter in this volume for a discussion on the politics of restructuring). The National Assembly initiated processes of constitutional amendments, but these also fell short of the dialogue and bargaining approach canvassed by proponents of true federalism. From the articulations and positions on the restructuring debates, the opposing forces were clearly those for devolution and greater autonomy for states (or ethnic nationalities) as a counterforce to an imperial federal government that had been an instrument of ethnic, religious, and regional domination on the one hand, and those for status quo with minor adjustments. With regard to the latter, while it supported devolution of power, ACF wanted this done in such a way ‘that the centre is strong enough to keep the country one but not too strong to push the country towards a unitary system’, and was opposed to a conference of the ‘sovereign national conference’ type whose resolutions would be final (Mamah 2014: 5). The pro-restructuring group was led by the SMBLF, comprising Afenifere, Ohanaeze, Middle Belt Leaders Forum, and PANDEF, while ACF represented the conservative low-tomoderate-restructuring coalition of the North West, North East, and elements of the North Central. These opposing forces were ventilated and traded at the National Political Reform Conference convened by President Obasanjo in 2005 and the National Conference convened by President Jonathan in 2014 when restructuring agitations and wars threatened to tear the country apart. Significantly, the composition of delegates at the 2014 Conference seemed to acknowledge and endorse the status of ethnic brokers and socio-political organizations as ‘power blocs’: ninety slots were allotted to ‘sociopolitical, cultural and ethnic nationality groups’, next only to the 109 allotted to states and the Federal Capital Territory (political parties had only ten slots and APC, the main opposition party at the time, boycotted the Conference). Not much came out of the conferences whose critics believed were convened to
54 Eghosa E. Osaghae buy time and support for the presidents convening them (including, in both cases, alleged ‘third-term agenda’), but the report of the 2014 Conference in particular remained a reference point for pro-restructuring groups for a long time. (See also the Introduction to this volume). The final resilience resource we shall consider is elections. Here, the roles of ethnic brokers and socio-political associations as power blocs and a third force in party politics were fully manifest with the informal but important rules of power ‘shift’, ‘rotation’, ‘zoning’, and ‘rights’, as well as access negotiations, deals, and agreements providing the right setting. Candidates for presidential and governorship elections especially emerged on the basis of these ‘rules’ of ethno-regional representation and right of succession. The rules made it possible to have two Yoruba Christians – Obasanjo and Falae – as main presidential candidates in 1999 and two Northern, Fulani Muslims – Buhari and Atiku – in 2019 (a similar arrangement produced a Muslim-Muslim gubernatorial ticket in Kaduna State in 2019), something that would have been considered abominable in the past. The strategic involvements in setting the rules of the game brought ethnic brokers and their power blocs into election matters like choosing candidates, negotiating slots and positions in government, and mediating intra-party and inter-party disputes both at the national level and within their zones of operation. For the 2019 election, The Guardian of Lagos reported that the influential Middle Belt Forum (MBF), a group of prominent political leaders … decided to have a shot at the presidency to actualize their demand for restructuring the country … in alliance with other groups notably Afenifere, the pan-Yoruba socio-cultural and political organization, its Igbo counterpart, Ohanaeze Ndigbo and the Pan Niger Delta Forum. (Bello 2018)
This move was premised on the understanding that the rules had zoned the presidential slot to the North (for which reason the groups did not support any of the Southern candidates). Furthermore, MBF leaders recognized that, to stand any chance, they needed to present distinguished and credible candidates with restructuring credentials. For this purpose, a selection committee chaired by Dan Suleiman, a NADECO veteran was set up to screen presidential candidates from the zone across party lines. A similar attempt by Ohanaeze Ndigbo in 1999 had failed because none of the twenty Igbo presidential candidates screened was willing to step down for the others. Despite such failures, ethno-regional socio-political groups remained critical actors in electoral politics. They played key roles in articulating and shaping bloc preferences, which not only influenced how people voted in the zones, but
Political Elites and Ethnic Mobilization 55 were traded as negotiable instruments in building coalitions and working out (power-sharing) deals with other power blocs, socio-political associations, and political parties. Also, while it may be difficult to gauge the actual extent to which interventions by the groups determined the outcomes of elections in their operational zones, they offered valuable platforms for electoral success. As a leader of Afenifere claimed, most of the [opportunist] politicians who won elections in the Yoruba South West in 1999 and afterwards were very smart to have realized then that for anybody to do anything in Yoruba land, especially politics wise [sic.], they had to go through Afenifere because the group leaders had proven themselves, and people believed them as leaders who could lead them at the most difficult periods … Those were days when you visited [Afenifere leader] Pa Abraham Adesanya’s residence in Apapa Lagos, and you would see credible personalities sitting inside the drainage just to have papa’s attention. (Olumide 2019: 10, emphasis added)
Conclusions In this chapter, I have employed elementary frames of general resilience theory to explain the salience and relevance of ethnicity in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic in terms of the agency roles of ethnic brokers and socio-political organizations. The essentially self-organizing roles have been reinforced by the compensatory and protective elements of ethnic mobilization as well as the enabling policies and practices that acknowledge the primacy of ethnic, religious, regional, and zonal identities for competitive and allocative politics. From the character, resources and activities of ethnic brokers and organizations analysed, at least two conclusions can be reached. The first is that the resilience and relevance of ethnicity depends very much on how leaders are able to optimize its intrinsic emancipatory and default accountability value (Archer 1996; Osaghae 2003). The ability of brokers and organizations to act as credible defenders of the interests and rights of their ethnic constituents in relations with the state and other ethnic groups, which result in outcomes like the actualization of ‘power shift’, ‘power rotation’, and demands for protection against herders, is a key point in this regard. The second conclusion is that ethnic agencies thrive when governments, political parties, legislative assemblies, and other institutions are dysfunctional and unable to uphold the common good and equitable distribution of resources. This was the basis of the restructuring ‘wars’ which have served to reinforce the relevance of ethnic brokers and their power blocs. If these conclusions suggest that ethnic politics is positive, they probably explain why it has had such great resilience value in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic.
2 Federalism, Constitutional Reform, and the Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic ROTIMI SUBERU
Introduction The 1999 Nigerian Constitution for the Fourth Republic has been widely criticized and repeatedly disparaged for containing ‘many contradictions that impede harmony and development of Nigeria’ (Daily Trust 2020). Procedurally, the Constitution has attracted the opprobrium of being the creation of a sectional military clique, rather than of a representative constituent assembly or of the Nigerian peoples voting in a referendum. Substantively, the document has been denounced for entrenching a ‘unitary federalism’ that is ill-suited to Nigeria’s multi-ethnic complexity and detrimental to its aspirations for democratic stability and socio-economic prosperity (Ihonvbere 2000: 361). This unitary federalism emerged over three decades of military rule (1966– 1999), during which the soldiers drastically reconfigured a regional-federalist legacy inherited from the late colonial and early independence eras (1954– 1966), replacing it with a highly centralized multi-state federal structure. Consequently, contemporary agitators for ‘political restructuring’ seek to reverse the military’s previous restructuring or ‘de-structuring’ of Nigeria, thereby rectifying the ‘birth defects’ arising from the soldiers’ authoritarian constitution making and centrist federation building (Ihonvbere 2000, 358; Adebowale and Oghifo 2017; Fayemi 2019; also see Osaghae in this volume). The actual implementation of constitutional change in the Fourth Republic, however, has largely defied the vociferous and often rancorous agitations for restructuring. From the First Constitutional Alteration Act of 2010 through to the Fourth Alteration Laws of 2017, successive amendments to the 1999 Constitution have not produced fundamental changes in the institutional
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 57 architectures of Nigeria’s federal governance. Instead, supermajorities in national and sub-national legislatures have ratified alterations that consolidated Nigeria’s centralization, while promoting polity-wide electoral governance reforms. Despite their contentiousness and their failure to shape formal constitutional change, however, agitations for restructuring remain relentless and resonant. The rhetoric of restructuring continues to highlight flaws and irregularities in Nigerian federalism, to dominate constitutional discourse in the country, and to impact informal, incremental, or non-constitutional political developments in the Fourth Republic. This discussion of restructuring, federalism, and constitutional politics in the Fourth Republic begins with a historical analysis. The analysis frames current agitations for restructuring as part of a long-standing and checkered search, especially since the crisis and collapse of the First Republic (1960–1966), for stable federal institutions of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule in Nigeria’s ethnically fractious society. Following this historical analysis, the centrepiece of the chapter analyses the profound, multifaceted challenges associated with advocacy for restructuring in the Fourth Republic. The restructuring agenda, it is argued, is vexed by its conceptual fuzziness or amorphousness, its regional contentiousness, its weak or limited appeal among key incumbent political leaders, its appropriation by opportunistic ethno-political entrepreneurs, and its supplanting by informal, incremental, or non-constitutional federalist renewal and revival. The chapter then sketches an alternative blueprint for reforming Nigerian federalism, before concluding with a summation of the main arguments and implications.
Background: Nigerian Federal Evolution and Reorganization in Perspective Constitutional politics in Nigeria, since before its independence from Britain in 1960, have been dominated by a struggle to create and recalibrate federal institutions for holding Nigeria’s deeply divided society together. Federal constitutional designs perform such ‘holding together’ roles by combining ‘self-rule plus shared rule’, as well as limited rule, ‘in a contractual linkage providing for power-sharing’ (Watts 2000: 161; Elazar 1987). Federalist self-rule is institutionalized through the constitutional allocation of legislative powers, fiscal resources, and administrative responsibilities to sub-national governments (SNGs). The SNGs are institutionally separate and autonomous from the common or general government of the federation. They should have ‘some activities’ on which they make ‘final decisions’ (Riker 1975: 101). They
58 Rotimi Suberu should also enjoy independent or guaranteed sources of funding in the form of autonomous taxation powers or guaranteed intergovernmental revenue transfers. Furthermore, ‘[m]ajor amendments affecting the constituent units commonly require substantial consent from them as well as from the central government’ (Anderson 2008: 3). In practice, however, most federations have experienced a tendency towards centralization and intergovernmental dependence. The erosion of sub-national autonomy or self-rule reflects diverse centripetal pressures, including social welfare planning and economic development imperatives, chronic domestic and international conflicts, and globalization, among others. Yet, even while witnessing a growing expansion of the legislative powers of the central government, most robust and resilient federations have preserved significant amounts of fiscal autonomy and administrative prerogatives for sub-national governments (Dardanelli, et al. 2019). Federalism enshrines not only sub-national autonomy but also the equitable representation of sub-units or distinct ethno-linguistic segments in the institutions of the common or federal government. The federalist principle of shared rule finds institutional expression in the following: a central government that interacts directly with populations in the constituent units; diverse intergovernmental forums or councils, both generalist and policy-specific, for promoting or coordinating relations between and among national and sub-national orders of government; and a federal bicameral legislature in which the lower or popular chamber represents the population of the federation at large, while the upper or federal chamber represents the constituent units, ‘often with greater weight given to smaller units than their population would otherwise merit’ (Anderson 2008: 4). Federalist guarantees of self-rule and shared rule are prone to erosion if there are no neutral constraining institutions to mediate and moderate the conduct of federalism’s different governments and segments. The most common and important of such arbitral, power-restraining, institutions are supreme or constitutional courts that can rule on intergovernmental conflicts. However, federal countries may also establish other independent institutions for managing a broad range of contentious and sensitive intergovernmental or inter-segmental issues, including revenue distribution, affirmative action policies, population enumeration, and elections. These judicial and quasijudicial agencies of restraint play decisive roles in federations, helping variously to interpret, enforce, mediate, adapt, develop, and stabilize the federal bargain. Although it is often nostalgically idealized by contemporary proponents of restructuring, Nigeria’s First Republic had an unbalanced and dysfunctional federal design that embedded catastrophic flaws in the country’s constitutional
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 59 institutions for self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule. On one hand, for instance, the First Republic’s three-region structure endowed the country’s major ethnicities of Hausa-Fulani, Igbo, and Yoruba with a considerable measure of sub-national economic and political self-rule. The regions established their own constitutions, local government systems, and local police, while spearheading major projects and investments in education, infrastructure, agriculture, and industrial development. These SNGs also enjoyed control over significant resources, including access to agricultural commodity marketing board reserves and to major federally collected taxes, duties, rents, and royalties that were transferred to the regions on a derivation basis. On the other hand, however, the Republic’s federal regional structure denied sub-national self-rule to the country’s so-called ethnic minority communities. These communities constituted approximately one-third of the population in each of the regions and nationally. The creation in 1963 of a fourth region, the Mid-West region, appeased minority communities in the Yoruba-dominated Western Region, while leaving minority segments in the Northern and Eastern Regions under the suffocating ethnic hegemony of the Hausa-Fulani and Igbo regional majorities, respectively. Aside from denying regional self-rule to most ethnic minorities, the First Republic’s ethno-regional federal design entailed a blatant structural imbalance that severely undermined guarantees of shared rule at the national level. The Northern Region contained 53% of the country’s population and 73% of the national territory, thereby fuelling widespread anxiety about perpetual Northern political domination of the federation. Given its electoral stranglehold on the North, the Northern People’s Congress (NPC) was able to dominate the affairs of the central government to the chagrin of political elites from the South. The NPC and its allies consistently trounced their southern-led rivals in a succession of ethno-political conflicts that cumulatively convulsed and consumed the First Republic: the 1962–63 emergency in the Western Region, 1963–64 census controversy, 1964 workers strike, 1964 federal election fiasco, and the 1965 Western election crisis (Diamond 1988). Northern political domination potentially could have been mitigated by some of the more benign and accommodative features of the constitutional design of the First Republic. These features included the inherently collegiate structure of the Republic’s Westminster-style parliamentary executive, the parliamentary coalitional politics that coopted southern political allies into NPC rule, the equal representation of regional governments in the (weak and unelected) Senate and, most important, the regional governments’ considerable prerogatives. However, these accommodative institutions ultimately proved ineffective. Instead, southern anxiety and insecurity about northern
60 Rotimi Suberu political domination greatly intensified as the centre invariably gathered more powers and resources in the First Republic. The Republic lacked effective and credible agencies of restraint or limited rule that could prevent ‘federal superordination’ from simply reproducing and reinforcing ‘Northern dominance’ (Dudley 1966: 21). Assessments of the role of the Supreme Court in the First Republic, for instance, are largely critical of the Court’s deference to parliamentary sovereignty and failure to effectively arbitrate intergovernmental disputes or cauterize ethno-political conflicts. Indeed, in the process of replacing the 1960 Independence Constitution with the 1963 Republican Constitution, the First Republic’s governing elites undermined the institution of judicial review and restraint by scrapping the independent judicial review commission and terminating appeals from the Supreme Court to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London. Consequently, the Court began to retreat from its initial activist stance, in cases such as Balewa v. Doherty (1961) and Williams v. Majekodunmi (1962), in defence of sub-national and individual rights. Rather, as underscored by cases such as Adegbenro v. AG Federation (1962) and AG Eastern Nigeria v. AG Federation (1964), the Court shied away from ‘any desire to become involved in political issues or to stress federalism’ as a political formula for stabilizing multi-ethnic Nigeria (Mackintosh 1966: 86). The Supreme Court’s unwillingness to ‘interpret the constitution fearlessly, impartially, and liberally’ represented a monumental failure of limited rule in the First Republic (Alao 2001: 96). Such evisceration of the rule of law, combined with failures of self-rule and shared rule, undermined the foundations of federal democracy in the First Republic. These deficiencies ultimately contributed to military intervention and the outbreak of civil war. Guided by its own unitary organization and vision, the military believed that regional federalism was the overriding cause of the First Republic’s crisis and collapse. The soldiers, therefore, embarked on a massive centripetal restructuring of the federation. During their extended rule from 1966 to 1999, with a brief civilian interregnum under the Second Republic (1979–83), successive military governments fundamentally redefined and reinvented the institutional structures of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule in the Nigerian federation. While contemporary proponents of restructuring disparage the soldiers for creating a ‘bastardized federalism’, the following assessment of the military’s institutional legacy suggests a more complex and ambiguous picture (Adamolekun 2005). The military’s primary legacy involved an exponential expansion in the number of constituent units, thereby dramatically reconfiguring the institutional framework of sub-national self-rule in the federation. The soldiers
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 61 increased the number of sub-federal units from four regions in 1963 to twelve states in 1967, nineteen states in 1976, twenty-one states in 1987, thirty states in 1991, and thirty-six states in 1996. The proliferation of constituent units entailed both positive and negative ramifications for self-rule. On one hand, the proliferation of sub-national states reduced inequalities in the size and population of the federation’s constituent units, satisfied the statehood demands of several minority ethnic communities, endowed important sub-ethnic segments within major ethnicities with constituent states of their own, undermined ethno-secessionist tendencies (by fragmenting the largest ethnic groups into multiple states), created a multiplicity of arenas that potentially could serve as laboratories of governance, and generally dispersed and defused the political and economic stakes of elite competition. On the other hand, however, the states were much weaker, culturally, politically, and economically, than the previous regions. By fragmenting old ethno-regional identities, the states became a vehicle for the proliferation of chauvinistic local-level identities, including invidious discriminations against so-called non-indigenes (Nigerians resident in states to which they have no historic ancestral or primordial ties). Also, unlike the regions, the states did not have their own constitutions, could not exclusively design and control their own local government systems, did not control the structures of locallevel policing and electoral administration, and did not have any significant domains of legislative powers that could be described as belonging exclusively or residually to sub-national governments. What is more, while both the regions and their successor states derived disproportionate amounts of their funding from centrally collected revenues, virtually all the states were now almost exclusively funded from federal oil revenues, rather than from revenues significantly derived from regional economic production and consumption. The domination of the Nigerian national and sub-national public finance by centrally collected oil revenues since the 1970s eroded the foundations of decentralized sub-national economic self-governance in the federation. Military rule also dramatically transformed the nature and scope of shared rule. Reflecting the significant reductions in the powers of sub-national governments and a corresponding expansion in the prerogatives of the centre under military rule, the exclusive list of central subjects increased from forty-five items under the 1963 Constitution for the First Republic to sixty-six matters under the 1999 Constitution. The military, therefore, increasingly promoted a view of federalism ‘not as a principle of non-centralized democratic government, but as simply a guarantee of ethnic and religious group representation in the institutions of government, no matter how centralized’ (Adamolekun and Kincaid 1991: 178). A theoretically pan-ethnic presidency, the federal character
62 Rotimi Suberu principle, and an elected and powerful senate, were among the constitutional institutions that the military and its advisors introduced to promote the representativeness and inclusiveness of an expanding federal centre. The presidential system’s relationship with the institutions of federalism and shared rule is somewhat complicated. On one hand, the presidential principle of separation of powers is more consistent than the parliamentary system’s doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty with federalism’s power-dividing logic. On the other hand, however, the presidential system is widely considered to be less conducive to ethnic stability and power sharing in deeply divided societies. This is because the executive in a presidential system is an ‘indivisible good’ that ‘can only be held by one person, from one nationality, for a fixed term.’ In contrast, given its collegiate and ‘coalition-friendly’ characteristics, the parliamentary executive is a ‘shareable good’ in which multiple ethnic elites or coalitions may partake (Stepan, et al. 2010: 57). In order to compensate for the presidential system’s personalist, ethnically indivisible, and zero-sum qualities, however, the military encouraged its constitutional advisors to design an arrangement for electing the Nigerian presidency in a manner that would reflect the ‘federal character’ of the country. This produced Nigeria’s iconic geographically distributed electoral rule, according to which a successful presidential candidate must win a quarter of the votes in two-thirds of the states in the federation. What is more, this ‘federal character’ rule became a broad constitutional mandate for equitable intergroup representation in the composition and conduct of the government of the federation. The rule would apply to the Federal cabinet and other presidential appointments, to the federal bureaucracy, and to all registered political parties. Constituent states were also required to reflect their own federal character or diversity in the composition and conduct of governance and electoral politics at the sub-national level. Meanwhile, unlike in the First Republic, when the regionally representative Senate was a weak and unelected institution, the federal upper chamber in subsequent Republics was both politically powerful and popularly elected. In addition to reinventing Nigerian institutions of self-rule and shared rule, the military underwrote a significant expansion in the number of constitutionally entrenched agencies of restraint or limited rule. The 1963 Constitution, to reiterate, had scrapped the Judicial Service Commission, leaving the Nigeria Police Council, Public Service Commission, Electoral Commission, and the Advisory Council on the Prerogative of Mercy as the country’s only national constitutional commissions. By the inception of the 1999 Constitution, however, the number of such commissions had increased to fourteen, including councils or commissions devoted to the judiciary, revenue
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 63 allocation, the federal character, population enumeration, and the code of conduct for public officers. With the exception of the autonomous National Judicial Council (NJC), however, these ostensibly independent agencies lacked genuine political, operational, and fiscal independence from the executive. The proliferation of putatively independent oversight bodies, therefore, did relatively little to erect robust checks and balances against the military’s behemoth central government and presidency. Much criticism has been directed at the often authoritarian, non-participatory, or non-democratic procedures by which the soldiers transformed Nigeria’s federal institutions. The creation of states by the military, for instance, was never subjected to constitutionally stipulated procedures, including holding referendums in affected areas. Undoubtedly, the creation of states was often undertaken in response to intense agitations for these federally funded entities. Also, state reorganizations were occasionally informed by the recommendations of investigatory panels. However, outcomes regarding the precise number, ethno-regional distribution, and location of the headquarters of new states often reflected the whims and caprices of privileged military officers. More generally, the military autocratically directed the creation of the 1979, 1989, and 1999 Constitutions for Nigeria’s Second, Third (aborted), and Fourth Republics, respectively. The military was the original protagonist for major post-First Republic constitutional changes and choices, including the presidential system, centralized multi-state federalism, and the federal character doctrine. It explicitly reserved to itself final authority to approve, reject, or amend any decisions or recommendations of civilian constitutional drafting and/or debating bodies; and it did not subject any of these constitutions to popular referendums. Given Nigeria’s fractured and contentious multi-ethnic society, however, the military’s repudiations of principles of participatory constitutionalism and decentralized federalism ultimately produced a backlash in the form of ethno-political agitations to revisit and restructure the military’s constitutional legacy.
The Rise and Failures of Contemporary Demands for Restructuring Current agitations in the Fourth Republic for restructuring perpetuate a long tradition of resistance against the military’s extensive reorganizations of Nigeria’s federal institutions. The military government’s promulgation of the twelve-state structure in 1967, for instance, was the catalyst for the attempted secession of the Republic of Biafra (old Eastern Region) and the civil war. Subsequently, in the post-civil war years leading to the inauguration of the
64 Rotimi Suberu Second Nigerian Republic, diverse civilian elites seized on this moment of political transition to express their dissension and distrust about the internal ‘territorial configuration’ of the federation, the ‘politics and competence of a dominant federal government’, the abandonment of parliamentary rule, and the military’s ‘subterranean’ dictation of the constitution-making process (see McHenry 1986: 92; Oyovbaire 1985: 237; Suberu 1990a: 75). During the short-lived Second Republic, some opposition state governors critiqued the 1979 Constitution for failing to ‘take cognizance of the diversity which constitutes the greatest potential of greatness in our country’ (Suberu 1990b: 271). These governors called for major constitutional change to ‘bring about a more balanced federal constitution’, with one of them even canvassing for Nigeria’s transformation into a confederation (Suberu 1990b: 271). However, throughout the first coming of the military (1966–79) and the life of the Second Republic (1979–83), protestations against the military’s centralization of the federation were largely overshadowed and subdued by a post-First Republic/civil war integrative ethos that was broadly supportive of the military’s centripetal constitutional vision. Challenges to the military’s reorganizations gained traction during the second coming of the soldiers (1984–99). This period witnessed multiple egregious assaults by the military on the foundations of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule. Examples included excessive fragmentation and emasculation of constituent states, violent repression of the Ogoni movement for local resource control in the oil-rich Niger Delta, annulment by the northerndominated military of the historic 1993 electoral victory of a southern presidential candidate, and extreme forms of corrupt, predatory, and personal authoritarian rule. The brazen political chicanery and ethnic repressiveness of the second generation of military rulers fuelled a profound constitutional ferment, which was further galvanized by pressures associated with the third wave of global democratization. The second phase of military rule, therefore, saw the rise of strident agitations against the military’s constitutional and political agendas by multiple civic and ethnic organizations, including the Campaign for Democracy (CD), Movement for National Reformation (MNR), and National Democratic Coalition of Nigeria (NADECO). These organizations advanced several demands. The major proposals called for reforming the Nigerian federation along more decentralist or ethno-confederal lines, and establishing a popular or sovereign national constitutional conference (SNC) to determine Nigeria’s political structure and future (Gboyega 2001). In response to this constitutional ferment, the soldiers convened a partially elected national constitutional conference 1994–95, orchestrated a power shift from the North to the South
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 65 in the 1999 presidential elections, and supervised the final inauguration of the Fourth Republic under the 1999 Constitution. Among other innovative conflict-mitigating measures, the Constitution provided for the allocation of not less than 13% of centrally collected natural resource revenues on a derivation basis, for the establishment of a Federal Character Commission (FCC), and for the creation of the independent NJC. These steps assuaged, but did not resolve, the demands for fundamental constitutional change in the Fourth Republic. Although it has produced the longest period of uninterrupted civilian rule in the nation’s post-independence history, the Fourth Republic has witnessed considerable ethno-political conflicts and socio-economic challenges that have perpetuated and intensified the opposition to the military’s constitutional legacy. These conflicts and challenges include the Boko Haram insurgency in the North East, ethno-religiously based banditry in the North West, farmerherdsmen conflicts in the Middle Belt and beyond, resurgent militancy and resource nationalism in the Niger Delta, the neo-Biafran movement in the South East, ethno-regional nationalism in the South West, and crime, kidnapping, electoral violence, and other profound security challenges across the length and breadth of the country. While they have complex structural roots, these conflicts and challenges also implicate federalism-related governance failures and institutional deficits. Critics argue that Nigeria’s centralized federal institutions have ‘retarded and distorted’ socio-economic development by over-concentrating powers and revenue sources in the central government. Such over-centralization is stunting sub-national responsibility and non-governmental entrepreneurship, while ‘failing to provide basic welfare for all citizens’ (Adamolekun and Kincaid 1991: 184; Adams 2016: 1). Acute failures of governance have been especially evident at the sub-national level. Although the Nigerian revenue-sharing system transfers substantial revenues to sub-national state governments, the politicized, unconditional, and unaccountable nature of the transfers discourages the states from becoming effective governance institutions. Accounting for approximately 40% of total government expenditures, the states typically generate less than 25% of their revenues internally, devote on average over 70% of their budgets to recurrent expenditures, and spend less than 20% of their aggregate total expenditure on the primary welfare sectors of education, health, water supply, housing, and agriculture (Central Bank of Nigeria 2018: 177). Sub-national governance performance has exacerbated, rather than softened, the high levels of poverty, unemployment and underemployment, and inequality that have ‘provided fertile ground for the emergence and rapid spread of violence’ (World Bank 2017: 13).
66 Rotimi Suberu The divisive ethno-regional politics of the federal presidency (see Osaghae in this volume) has been an additional driver of violent communal contention (see Animasawun in this volume) and polarization in the Fourth Republic. The unplanned ascension to the presidency in 2010 of erstwhile Vice President Goodluck Jonathan, a southern Christian, following the death of President Umaru Yar’Adua, a northern Muslim, was extremely contentious. Jonathan’s ascension compounded the communal acrimony of presidential politics by disrupting the informal power-sharing arrangement between North and South. His re-election in 2011 provoked bloody ethno-religious clashes that claimed about 800 lives in the predominantly Muslim North. The president’s enormous powers, including the control he exercises over key oversight and security agencies, has aggravated the ‘ethnicization of the presidency’, which has been described as a ‘hallmark of the Fourth Republic’ (Akinrinade 2018). For instance, ‘the capacity of the FCC to address a situation where the president is perceived to violate the federal character principle is debated as the commission is beholden to the president, which appoints its members and approves its rules and budgets’ (Demarest, et al. 2020: 6–7). Indeed, President Muhammadu Buhari provoked nationwide criticisms during the first half of 2020 for appointing two northerners as Chairman and Secretary, respectively, of the FCC, thereby undermining equitable intergroup representation at the upper echelons of the very institution that is constitutionally designed to promote such equity. In essence, the absence of truly robust oversight mechanisms at all levels of the Nigerian federal system has fostered multiple weak, non-transparent, corrupt, and conflictual governments. These administrations function more like ‘elected autocracies’ than instruments of ethnically inclusive governance, laboratories of democracy, or agents of socio-economic development (Adams 2016: 1). The challenges of federalism in the Fourth Republic provoked intense megaconstitutional politics from various non-governmental and official bodies. The clamour for restructuring, decentralization, a confederal system, or even secessionism continued to emanate largely from southern ethno-regional groups, despite the greater incidence of violence, underdevelopment, and other governance failures in the North. But the Nigerian Governors’ Forum, which includes the nineteen Northern state governors, periodically argued for the devolution of more powers and resources to the states. What is more, some of the more compelling critiques of the presidential system came from northern figures like Tanko Yakassai and Babachir Lawal, who bemoaned the political turbulence and governmental dysfunction inherent in concentrating ‘power and authority’ in a ‘single individual’, while proposing ‘a return to the parliamentary system’ (Alechenu, et al. 2016; Iroanusi 2020).
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 67 These demands for restructuring, however, failed to gain traction in the presidency and the National Assembly, which led the formal politics of constitutional change in the Fourth Republic. The presidency launched multiple constitutional review conferences or panels, including general constitutional reform bodies, such as the National Conferences of 2005 and 2014, and more specialized constitutional review commissions, including the Justice Muhammadu Uwais-led Electoral Reform Committee of 2007. Although they generally embraced the need to establish a more decentralized federation, the 2005 and 2014 conferences were undermined by ethno-political infighting and deadlock along the country’s North/South fault lines, by their nature as purely advisory and non-statutory presidential bodies, and by their perceived complicity in (abortive) presidential tenure-elongation plots. The specialized reform panels, on the other hand, focused narrowly on electoral matters, including nation-wide reforms that potentially would further centralize, rather than decentralize, the federation. Like the presidency, ‘[t]he National Assembly has continued to consolidate and expand the powers of the Federal Government to the detriment of federalism’ (Falana 2019). The Assembly successfully conducted four rounds of alterations to the Constitution between 2010 and 2017. These changes extended the scope of shared federation-wide constitutional rules and enhanced the autonomy of select oversight institutions at national and sub-national levels, but did not advance the powers of sub-national states relative to those of the central government. In other words, the alterations formally introduced relatively modest improvements to centralized oversight authority (limited rule plus shared rule), without advancing sub-national self-governance, which is the centrepiece of the restructuring agenda. The alterations to the Constitution largely tinkered with the country’s electoral governance. These constitutional changes enhanced the powers, operational autonomy, and budgetary security of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC). The alterations streamlined the timing and adjudication of federal and state elections, while liberalizing the age requirements for electoral candidacy to selected political offices. Following the constitutional crisis that was created by the failure of a terminally ill Yar’Adua to hand over the reins to his deputy in 2009–10, the 1999 Constitution was also altered to incorporate uniform regulations regarding contingent or interim political successions to the offices of the president and state governors. Other constitutional alterations focused on buttressing the status of the legislature and the judiciary. These changes guaranteed the financial security of national and sub-national legislative houses, extended the financial autonomy already enjoyed by the federal judiciary to sub-national judicatures, and entrenched
68 Rotimi Suberu the status and powers of the National Industrial Court as a superior court of record under the Constitution. Enhancing the status of oversight or regulatory agencies, such as INEC, the judiciary, and the legislature, was the common theme of the constitutional alterations enacted by the National Assembly. But these alterations were not radical enough. The alterations, for instance, did not implement the far-reaching recommendations of the Uwais Committee for the political insulation of the appointment of the INEC membership. These recommendations gave the general public, civil society organizations, and the judiciary important roles in this. The constitutional alterations, on the other hand, merely enhanced the administrative and budgetary autonomy of INEC, while retaining the Commission’s presidentially dominated appointment process. Similarly, the National Assembly rejected proposals to devolve more powers, resources, and self-rule to the state governments. Successive majorities in both chambers of the Assembly, instead, supported nation-wide constitutional arrangements that would reduce sub-national powers over their localities, thereby further consolidating the centralization of the federation. To most national legislators, enhancing sub-national state autonomy would ‘smuggle the … restructuring agenda into the constitution’ (Hassan 2017). Senate President Sola Saraki explained in 2017 that restructuring was a source of profound inter-regional ‘suspicion and tension’, adding that ‘there was a meeting in Kaduna’ (the old capital of the former Northern Region), ‘where it was clear that certain parts of the country wanted more time to understand what restructuring is’ (Ezigbo and Shittu 2017). His explanation spoke to the regional fault lines which remained one of the major challenges for restructuring in the Fourth Republic.
Lack of core northern support for restructuring The North has been described as ‘the epicenter of opposition to restructuring and other fundamental reforms the union needs’ (Ochonu 2017). ‘It is a “Northern” position on the issue of restructuring’, writes Biodun Jeyifo, ‘to lump it together with secession, just as it is also a very “Northern” position to almost reflexively see a fundamental opposition between restructuring and the unity of the country when, in fact and in logic, there is no necessarily oppositional or contradictory relationship between them’ ( Jeyifo 2017). Associating northern Nigeria with opposition to restructuring does not overlook support for restructuring by prominent northern leaders and intellectuals. According to former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, for instance, ‘restructuring Nigeria is no longer an option’ but ‘a necessity’ in order to foster
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 69 ‘a new development agenda with focus on wealth creation by the federating units, rather than wealth distribution from Abuja to state and local government capitals’ (Abubakar 2018). Similarly, for Kaduna Governor Nasir El-Rufai, ‘there is no doubt that the Nigerian federation is unbalanced and in dire need of structural rebalancing’, the ‘federation has been dysfunctional, more unitary than federal, and not delivering public goods to the generality of our people’ (El-Rufai 2017: 1, 3). Another important perspective is that of Attahiru Jega, who contends that ‘among the federations that currently exist in the world … Nigeria is one of the worst models of political accommodation of diversity, as well as power and resources sharing.’ Consequently, ‘Effort and energies need to be devoted to generating an elite, if not a national, consensus on the necessity of restructuring, defined as the redistribution of power and resources from the federal to the state governments’ ( Jega 2021). Unlike Abubakar, El-Rufai, and Jega, who embrace restructuring for largely secular or developmental reasons, Sheikh Gumi, a respected Islamic scholar, emphasizes the potential benefits of restructuring for religious autonomy. ‘What I think we should do’, Gumi argues, ‘is to restructure Nigeria so that areas where Muslims are in the majority like Zamfara and Kano will have their system. Where Christians are more, allow them to have their way’ (Agande 2019). Despite such important dissenting voices, however, opposition in northern Nigeria to restructuring remains conspicuous and consistent. This reflects an inherent anti-Northern bias in the restructuring agenda which sees devolution as more than a formula for promoting national development, democracy, and unity. Rather, for its most consistent proponents in southern Nigeria, restructuring also represents a rejection of the constitutional legacy of northerndominated military governments as well as an antidote to northern political domination and economic appropriation of the federation. Proponents of restructuring, for instance, often critique the centralized redistribution of oil revenues from southern states to the North and the location of a majority of the centrally funded states and localities in the region. Restructuring, therefore, perpetuates and escalates a long-standing tendency for ‘the peoples of the south, especially in the oil producing areas [to] openly protest the “enrichment” of the North via the State at the expense of the South and [to] demand, in turn, to be compensated’ (Herbst 1996: 157). Thus, Yakassai described agitation for restructuring as ‘a gang-up’ by southern Nigerian ethnicities that are ‘driven by hate and envy’ to ‘deny the North the benefits of its population and landmass’ (Mohammed 2016). Radical economic and political decentralization and related proposals for restructuring Nigeria, therefore, remain anathema to the North. A publication produced by leading Northern think tanks, entitled ‘Key Issues Before
70 Rotimi Suberu Northern Delegates to the 2014 National Conference’, for instance, eloquently articulated a largely centrist perspective on Nigerian federalism. According to the document, Nigeria’s constituent states are not previously sovereign, America-style, federating units but mere administrative entities or territorial subdivisions with no predefined rights. The document, therefore, argued for the maintenance of the 36-state structure, for entrenching the autonomy of local governments from the states, for direct federal funding of the localities, and for a reduction in the oil derivation principle from the current 13% minimum to ‘at best five percent of onshore oil revenues’ in the interest of balanced national development (Vanguard 2014). Indeed, for Alhaji Muhammad Sa’ad Abubakar, Sultan of Sokoto and the North’s pre-eminent traditional ruler, the discourse on restructuring can be frivolous and misplaced, because ‘Nigeria has long been well-structured’. A lack of accountable political leadership, rather than restructuring, according to the Sultan, is Nigeria’s main challenge. In his words: ‘When I hear people talk about restructuring, I just laugh … No matter what restructuring you do, with bad leaders in place it won’t work’ (Adefaka 2016). Even El-Rufai, despite his consistent support for decentralization, is sceptical or conflicted about some of the more radical ideas on restructuring. He contends that ‘some advocates of wholesale abandonment of the existing political structure are probably unrealistic in their expectations’, while other ‘advocates have not bothered to define what restructuring means to them: is it devolution of powers, resource control, regionalism, or even self-determination, or all of these?’ (El-Rufai 2017: 5, 7).
Muddled and contested ideas of restructuring A common charge against proponents of restructuring involves their lack of clarity and unanimity regarding the substance of restructuring and the procedures for achieving it. President Buhari, for instance, challenged proponents of restructuring in the following words: ‘What form do they want restructuring to take? Do they want us to have the three regions we used to have? Let them define it and then we see how we can peacefully do it in the interest of Nigerians’ (Punch Editorial Board 2018). Similarly, President Obasanjo revealed that ‘I have asked six different people who talk about restructuring and six of them gave me different points of view. The other day some people even came to me and what they were talking about doesn’t make sense’ (Ikeji 2017).
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 71 Three shortcomings beset restructuring as a concept in Nigerian political discourse and constitutional rhetoric: the prevalent interpretation of restructuring as a call for decentralized or ‘true federalism’ is contested and confounded by other visions, variations, or interpretations of restructuring; there is no consensus regarding the actual details, or substance, of ‘true federalism’; and, there is no unanimity regarding the pathways or procedures for achieving this desired brand of truly decentralized federalism (cf. Osaghae in this volume). In a comprehensive analysis, Bakare (2017) identified ten ‘schools of thought’ on restructuring: the conservatives, economic structure reformists, non-structural constitutional reformists, political system reformists, devolutionists, state creation advocates, resource-control activists, regional federalists, regional confederalists, and secessionists. In a more parsimonious analysis, Soludo isolated the following three approaches to restructuring: ‘soft restructuring’, which focuses on amending, or tinkering with, the 1999 Constitution; ‘hybrid restructuring’, which seeks to negotiate a new federal constitution ‘with sufficient regional autonomy’; and ‘hard restructuring’, involving a confederal arrangement or full independence for any parts of the country seeking outright self-determination (Soludo 2018; cf. Introduction to this volume). Juxtaposing the typologies from Bakare and Soludo, it is obvious that proponents of restructuring include not only advocates of true or decentralized federalism, but also separatists. The latter regard Nigeria as an unworkable multi-ethnic union, which should be dismantled into a loose confederation or even separate countries. More important, however, while support for a truly decentralized federalism is the mainstream opinion among proponents of restructuring, there is hardly any consensus among these supporters of ‘true federalism’ about the substantive and procedural details involved in creating such a federal model. With the exception of the ‘conservatives’, who ‘are generally satisfied’ with Nigeria’s ‘current systems and structures of governance’, and the ‘regional confederalists’ and secessionists, who essentially reject the idea of a Nigerian union or federation, Bakare’s ‘schools of thought’ represent more-or-less divergent perspectives on what a truly decentralized Nigerian federation should look like. Thus, ‘economic structure reformists’ recommend the diversification and liberalization of Nigeria’s oil-based political economy, while ‘resource-control activists’ emphasize sub-national control of natural resources. Similarly, in order to achieve a truly democratic and inclusive Nigerian federation, the ‘non-structural constitutional reformists’ emphasize mainly political reforms, such as affirmative action for women and political insulation for oversight institutions. Some ‘political system reformists’, on the other hand, call for the
72 Rotimi Suberu restoration of the parliamentary system. Meanwhile, ‘state creation advocates’ seek their more equitable and ‘decentralized’ federation in the establishment of additional constituent states in regions or geopolitical zones, such as the South East, which were apparently short-changed in previous state reorganizations. The major fault line among proponents of true federalism, however, is between ‘multi-state federalists’ (or ‘devolutionists’) and ‘regional federalists’. Multi-state federalists call for economic and political devolution within the current structure of thirty-six states. Regional federalists, however, consider these states to be too weak politically, too small demographically, and too dependent fiscally, to constitute viable constituent units in a robustly decentralized federation. However, while regional federalists support the consolidation of the states into bigger and more powerful constituent units, these regionalists share no consensus about the appropriate shape or number for such consolidated units. The transformation of Nigeria’s current six geopolitical zones (three each in the North and South) into federating units is canvassed by many regional federalists, but rejected by others. Their disagreements notwithstanding, all multi-state and regional federalists generally support a strong but, leaner, central government existing alongside vibrant constituent federal units. The central government would continue to have exclusive responsibility for matters like defence, foreign affairs, and other polity-wide or inter-unit matters. But the Constitution would be amended, according to these federalists, to allow sub-units play a more robust role in a broad range of concurrent and residual policy areas, including policing, local governance, transportation, electricity generation, and mineral resource control. The procedures for achieving constitutional change represent a final source of contention and confusion among proponents of restructuring. The time-frame for restructuring, for instance, is an unresolved issue: While some proponents of restructuring envisage the implementation of reforms within the country’s regular four-year electoral cycle, others propose a transitional period of up to ten years (Bakare 2017; Moghalu 2018). The more contentious question, however, is whether devolution and related constitutional changes should be implemented by invoking existing constitutional amendment rules or through more novel participatory strategies. The general constitutional amendment formula in the 1999 Constitution requires that any constitutional alterations be approved by a supermajority (two-thirds or, for the more entrenched provisions on human rights and federal boundary adjustments, four-fifths) in each house of the National Assembly, supported by resolutions of two-thirds of state assemblies. In addition, according to the current constitutional interpretation, all alterations to the Constitution require presidential assent.
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 73 These amendment rules have been criticized by many proponents of restructuring. The National Assembly, in particular, these critics suggest, is too rooted in flawed elections, too skewed in its composition in favour of conservative ethno-political interests, too preoccupied with ordinary legislation and incremental constitutional amendments (as distinct from more comprehensive constitutional change), and too plagued by a record of opposition to true federalism demands, to serve as a vehicle for actualizing a decentralized federation. Yet, establishing alternative forums for deliberating about constitutional change, such as the presidential constitutional conferences of 2005 and 2014, or the ethnic-based pro-national conference (Pronaco) of 2010, has produced redundant or contentious outcomes. Pronaco, in particular, lacked any broad-based support, or even attention or engagement, from critical leadership groups across the federation.
Absence of political leadership on restructuring The restructuring agenda has lacked the support from national political leaders and organizations that could forge a broad consensus on the agenda and steer it towards success. The behaviour of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) and the All Progressives Congress (APC), Nigeria’s two major parties, is particularly illustrative of this leadership lacuna. Despite espousing restructuring in their respective manifestos, both parties failed to use their control of the machinery and resources of government at national and sub-national levels to advance the cause of federal reform. According to its manifesto, the PDP is ‘committed to restructuring Nigeria in the spirit of [creating] true federal and responsible tiers of government [and] resolving such fundamental issues as proper devolution of powers between the three tiers of government’ (PDP 2019: 1). Similar to the PDP, the APC, in its Constitution and manifesto, promised ‘to promote true federalism in the Federal Republic of Nigeria’ and to ‘initiate action to amend our constitution with a view to devolving powers, duties, and responsibilities to states and local governments in order to entrench federalism and the federal spirit’ (APC 2019; Bakare 2017; Ezigbo and Shittu 2017). But the PDP did nothing to promote any of the federalist recommendations of President Jonathan’s 2014 National Conference. The recommendations included: establishing ‘federalism compliant’ institutions, such as separate constituent state constitutions, police organizations, and courts of appeal; transferring several legislative subjects (for example, police, prisons, pensions, public holidays, railways, inter-state trade, and solid minerals) from the exclusive federal list to the concurrent list; significantly reducing the
74 Rotimi Suberu amount of federally collected revenues retained by the Federal Government; and enhancing the autonomy of key regulatory institutions, including INEC, Revenue Mobilisation Allocation and Fiscal Commission (RMAFC), and the offices of Accountant General, Attorney General, and Auditor-General. The Jonathan administration did not produce a government white paper on any of these recommendations or develop the proposals into constitutional amendment bills. What is more, President Jonathan withheld assent from the 2014 Fourth Constitution Alteration Bill, which included proposals to enhance the autonomy of oversight institutions, among other important amendments. Among other procedural and substantive objections, President Jonathan denounced the Bill as ‘an unjustified whittling down of the executive powers of the federation vested in the president’ (Senate of the Federal Republic of Nigeria 2015). Like the PDP administration before it, the APC government failed to advance the work of its own ‘Committee on True Federalism’ (APC 2018). Headed by Governor El-Rufai, the Committee crafted multiple proposals for decentralizing the Nigerian federal system. The proposals included: providing ‘legal and administrative frameworks’ for the potential merger of states; reviewing upward the 13% derivation formula; extending the derivation formula from oil revenues to proceeds of solid minerals and hydro power; shifting items on the federal exclusive legislative list to the concurrent list or to residual state powers; and granting autonomy to the sub-national states to establish their own Judicial Councils (separate from the NJC), to control natural resources in their respective territories, to develop their own local government systems, and to conduct their own elections (APC 2018). Furthermore, the report of the El-Rufai Committee incorporated executive and legislative action plans (including draft constitutional amendment bills) for advancing the Committee’s decentralist recommendations. However, APC leaders in the federal executive and legislature ignored the Committee’s decentralist proposals. Instead, the series of Fourth Constitution Alteration Acts passed under APC leadership in 2017 generally reinforced centralization. Among other amendments, the Alteration Acts included new constitutional guarantees of judicial and legislative autonomy at the sub-national level, thereby potentially enhancing national regulation of sub-national governance structures. Nigeria’s governing class has not accorded the restructuring agenda the kind of attention it gave to electoral reforms following international and domestic criticisms of the farcical 2007 elections. The post-2007 electoral reform process included the establishment of a distinguished presidential panel on electoral reforms (the aforementioned Uwais Committee), the formalization of key recommendations of the panel in an official white paper and in major
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 75 legislative and constitutional reform proposals, the prompt ratification of these proposals by national and sub-national legislatures and the presidency, and President Jonathan’s appointment of an esteemed member of the Uwais Committee to the chairmanship of INEC. The failure of the political class to provide leadership on the issue of true federalism and restructuring reinforced a common perception that the issue is an expedient and expendable weapon in bourgeois inter-elite factional struggles.
Bourgeois political elitism and opportunism A compelling critique of restructuring is that it is a strategy to advance narrow bourgeois elite interests, particularly access to ‘power and its associated material opportunities’, rather than an agenda to promote genuine governance reform or mass-based socio-economic development (Babalola and Onapajo 2019, 41). This critique goes beyond underscoring the absence of political leadership on restructuring. Instead, it highlights the undermining of restructuring by proponents who underappreciate, manipulate, or lack any enduring commitment to restructuring’s putative reformist or governancetransforming rationale. Criticizing the bourgeois or elitist character of restructuring proposals underscores the limitations of advocating devolutionary self-rule or national shared rule when the advocacy is not accompanied by a robust agenda emphasizing limited rule and power-restraining guarantees. As Falana suggests, the ‘campaign for true federalism is meaningless … to the majority of people who are groaning in poverty in all parts of the country … if it is not anchored on democratization, popular participation, accountability, and transparency’ (Falana 2016, 2020). Segun Osoba, the Nigerian Marxist historian, indeed, disparages ‘the fake apostles of ethnic and regional separatism hiding behind their mendacious and tattered banners of restructuring’ in order to ‘create more avenues for the ruling class to steal public funds’ (Perchonok 2020). In addition to highlighting the propensity of federal consociation schemes to empower corrupt elite cartels, however, radical critiques of the bourgeois nature of much restructuring rhetoric underscore ‘the temptations and seductions of power that routinely transform advocates of restructuring into raving fanatical defenders of the dysfunctional status quo’ (Ochonu 2017). The register on political restructuring in Nigeria is, indeed, replete with numerous advocates of restructuring who ‘did nothing to advance restructuring when in power’ (El-Rufai 2017). Prior to his appointment as a member of the Federal cabinet in 1999, for instance, Bola Ige was a leading advocate for restructuring. He was a prominent
76 Rotimi Suberu spokesperson for Afenifere (the Yoruba ethno-nationalist organization), a foremost supporter of a reinvigorated Nigerian federalism, and an eloquent proponent for convening a ‘sovereign national conference’ (SNC) to determine whether and how Nigeria should remain a united federal republic. As federal Attorney General and justice minister, however, Ige surprised many observers when he instituted legal proceedings that challenged the resource-control claims of the oil-rich states (Asoya and Adebayo 2001; Urhobo Historical Society 2001). Ige also ‘ruffled not a few feathers’ and provoked charges of a ‘betrayal’ when ‘he openly declared that the SNC option was no longer feasible’ (Eguozie 2000, Ajani 2001). In more recent times, scepticism regarding the political sincerity of advocates of restructuring has focused on the pronouncements of Olusegun Obasanjo and Atiku Abubakar. As military ruler and civilian president during 1976–79 and 1999–2007, respectively, Obasanjo was a leading architect, promoter, and beneficiary of Nigeria’s centralized presidential federalism. During early 2020, however, Obasanjo described the 1999 Constitution as ‘compromised’ and canvassed the establishment of a constituent assembly to craft a new Nigerian constitution. He also proposed a scheme for executive power sharing under a presidential-cum-parliamentary system (semi-presidentialism), embraced regional or inter-state integration, and warned about the risks of aggravated secessionist or self-determination activism if extant agitations for true federalism and political restructuring were not addressed (Olumide 2020). Obasanjo was long out of power and in apparent political decline, having unsuccessfully backed the candidacy of Atiku (Obasanjo’s Vice President 1999–2007) for the presidency in the 2019 elections. In his new-found role as an ‘emergency advocate of restructuring’, Obasanjo, therefore, allegedly was ‘just merely threading on the populist path’ and ‘warming himself to the pro-devolution forces’ (Oladesu 2020). Critics and cynics were even more sceptical about Atiku’s advocacy on restructuring. According to Itse Sagay: Atiku was in power for eight years with Olusegun Obasanjo. Obasanjo is the most hostile person in the whole world to restructuring. His opposition to restructuring was simply unbelievable and Atiku was with him as second-in-command … Jointly, they totally discouraged and stamped out any idea on restructuring. But Atiku is a smart man. Seeing that the South-South, South-East, and … South-West are now using restructuring as a battle cry, he now wants to harness it as campaign program so as to get support and votes. He is obviously not sincere. It is just a campaign ploy and Nigerians can see through the deceit (Godwin 2018).
Despite its political manipulation, contestation, and marginalization, however, restructuring continued to find affirmation and expression in multiple
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 77 ways, including through informal, non-constitutional, or incremental practices. With restructuring gaining traction informally or non-constitutionally, however, the imperative to advance it more formally or constitutionally could reduce.
Recourse to non-constitutional renewal as an alternative to formal constitutional restructuring Legislative supplementation, judicial arbitration, and constitutional infidelity are three avenues by which aspects of the restructuring agenda have been advanced without constitutional change in the Fourth Republic. The Allocation of Revenue (Abolition of Dichotomy in the Application of the Principle of Derivation) Act of 2004 was a classic example of the use of legislative supplementation or ordinary legislation to promote the objective of sub-national resource control and revenue decentralization. The Act brought a significant portion of offshore oil revenues within the rubric of the derivation rule, thereby assuaging local grievances regarding the economic expropriation of the oil-bearing communities of the Niger Delta. Legislative supplementation could be utilized to implement other federalist reform goals, thereby circumventing politically contentious and procedurally onerous constitutional change. Such legislatively achievable goals include adjusting the 13% minimum derivation rule, reforming vertical and horizontal fiscal federalism arrangements more generally, and reducing indigene-based citizenship discrimination. In practice, however, the Fourth Republic’s National Assembly has been a less effective forum of federalist renewal than other institutions, including the judiciary. The Fourth Republic has witnessed both a ‘legal battle for restructuring’ and ‘restructuring through litigation’ (Falana 2019). Restructuring via litigation has seen the Supreme Court and lower tiers of the Nigerian judicature arrive at decisions that advanced federalist decentralization, both politically and economically. Politically, the courts reversed illegal impeachment of state governors by state legislatures acting at the behest of the Federal Government. Also, a major decision of the Supreme Court annulled the centre’s attempt to constrain sub-national states’ control of local government and its finances. What is more, the judiciary periodically voided fraudulent electoral outcomes involving attempts by federal governing parties to use central power and patronage to win or retain electoral control of sub-national state governments. And, in Inspector-General of Police v. All Nigeria Peoples Party & Ors (2007), the courts curbed some of the powers of Nigeria’s unitary police (including the power to issue permits for political rallies), while affirming the supremacy of
78 Rotimi Suberu a state governor over the federally appointed state commissioner of police on issues pertaining to the Public Order Act (Falana 2019). Judicial decisions and outcomes also advanced economic decentralization, often in response to intergovernmental and federalism-related litigation involving Lagos, Nigeria’s most economically developed state. In AG Lagos v. AG Federation & Ors (2001), for instance, the Supreme Court found urban, regional, and physical planning and development to lie within the exclusive residual jurisdiction of the states, thereby effectively voiding and prohibiting federal grants of approvals, permits, and licences for building and physical development outside Abuja. In AG Federation v. AG Lagos (2013), the Supreme Court held that federal powers over tourist traffic and movement of foreigners did not extend to the ‘regulation, registration, classification, and grading of hotels’ and other tourist hospitality establishments. These latter subjects, according to the Court, were ‘clearly residual matters for the states’. Another important decision involved the Court of Appeal in Lagos State Waterways Authority & Ors v. Incorporated Trustees of Association of Tourist Boat Operators and Waterway Transportation in Nigeria (2014); the Court concluded that state inland waterways cannot be covered by any item on the exclusive federal legislative list. In Linas International Limited & Ors v. AG Federation & Ors (2013), the Federal High Court in Abuja asked the Federal Government to repay billions of naira it illegally deducted from sub-national revenue allocations in the name of external debt service payments. Other judicial decisions pronounced the regulation of pools betting a residual subject for the states, annulled a federal decree that appropriated lands abutting the shoreline of Nigeria’s coastal states, and confirmed the authority of states to levy the sales tax. The effect of many of these rulings was to buttress the fiscal resources and political prerogatives of the states. The rulings, for instance, contributed to the phenomenal expansion in Lagos state’s internally generated revenues from 600 million in 1999 to more than 25 billion by 2017 (Falana 2019). Nonetheless, judicially driven federal revival in Nigeria is constrained by multiple factors, including the centrist biases built into the 1999 Constitution, a propensity for the judiciary to distance itself from politically explosive matters, and a weak culture of constitutionalism and the rule of law, with the centre sometimes openly disobeying court orders. Paradoxically however, a culture of constitutional disobedience or infidelity may also produce decentralizing, rather than purely centralizing, outcomes. The Fourth Republic has witnessed several instances in which sub-national state governments have asserted their autonomy in defiance of the centralizing provisions of the Constitution. Examples of such decentralizing or
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 79 federalism-related constitutional infidelity include: states’ violation of the constitutional prohibition of state religion, for example, through the adoption of stringent Sharia laws; commandeering of local government structures, institutions, and resources by state governments in defiance of the centrist constitutional doctrine of three-tier federalism; the development of geopolitical zones into important bases of administrative coordination, political representation, and resource allocation, thereby diluting, and sometimes supplanting, the role of the states as the primary constituent units of the Nigerian federation; and the proliferation of sub-national policing bodies, despite the constitutional prohibition of police organizations other than the Nigeria Police Force. The January 2020 establishment of the Western Nigeria Security Network, under the appellation of Operation Amotekun (Leopard), was especially remarkable and controversial. Amotekun involved sponsorship of a quasipolicing unit by a geopolitical zone, thereby compounding two forms of constitutional infidelity in the Nigerian federation. Yet, despite the protestations it attracted from the Federal Government, Operation Amotekun won broad support for pooling the resources of neighbouring states in order to combat a growing crisis of insecurity in the region. Amotekun underscored the viability of alternative strategies of federalist revival and renewal in Nigeria outside the path of radical, formal, mega-constitutional change, or restructuring.
Rethinking an Agenda for Federal Reform The preceding analysis suggests three broad recommendations for reforming Nigeria’s federalism. These involve seeking broad elite consensus on a federal reform agenda, improving practices of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule within the current multi-state federal structure, and optimizing multiple avenues, including constitutional and non-constitutional strategies, for federal reform and renewal. Reforming and improving Nigerian federalism would require the collaborative, consensual, and coordinated efforts of the country’s major leaders, including the president, governors, and leadership of the legislature at national and sub-national levels. Such coordination would help bridge the fault lines between North and South, between those who canvass the urgency of restructuring and those who disparage such advocacy as ill-motivated, and between different versions, visions, and variations of restructuring. What is required is ‘consensus-building’ in support of an elite pact incorporating a political compromise among contending interests and perspectives on restructuring (Akinrinade 2018). Following the model of the relatively successful electoral reform process in Nigeria, the proposed elite pact could involve the
80 Rotimi Suberu establishment of an inclusive ‘presidential commission’ to identify and promote areas of national consensus on restructuring, thereby ‘manufacturing consent’ on the issue (Moghalu 2018). The commission would develop a package of consensual and actionable policy recommendations, legislative proposals, and constitutional amendment bills for reforming Nigerian federalism. A consensus-based agenda for restructuring would most likely support strategies for promoting a more functional, equitable, sustainable, and legitimate federal union within the current multi-state framework. Continuation of the 36-state structure represents a pragmatic choice for the following reasons: the unbalanced federal regional model in the First Republic is a poor alternative to the multi-state structure; unscrambling the elaborate institutional and administrative structures of the current states would be difficult and/or unpopular; the 36-state structure has been relatively stable in comparison to the sharp discontinuities in the country’s previous regional-state configurations; the multi-state structure represents a potentially viable framework for dispersing the economic and political stakes of governance. With an average population of more than 5 million, and with their multi-million dollar budgets, Nigeria’s current constituent states have endowments that compare favourably with those of some independent African countries. Nonetheless, advancing genuine federal reform within the present multi-state structure will be challenging. The Nigerian states’ financial dependency, dysfunctionality, and irresponsibility is a primary challenge of Nigerian federalism, and a major driver of agitations for restructuring. The World Bank’s US$750 million, four-year (2018–21), project on Nigerian States Fiscal Transparency Accountability and Sustainability attempted to respond to this challenge. It was designed to incentivize and assist the states to improve their governance processes by increasing their financial sustainability and internally generated revenues, and by promoting transparency, accountability, openness, and citizen engagement in their budgetary, procurement, payroll, and related practices. The project supported the states with differing amounts of performance grants in accordance with their adherence to good governance standards. Sub-national fiscal irresponsibility will persist, however, as long as the Nigerian revenue allocation system continues to disburse huge amounts of centrally collected revenues to the states and localities unconditionally and on the basis of highly politicized criteria like inter-unit equality and relative population. This revenue allocation system must be reconfigured in order to encourage the sub-national governments to govern accountably, contribute to local (and, ultimately, national) economic prosperity, and generate more of their own revenues and resources.
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 81 Many of the suggestions that proponents of restructuring have advanced for decentralizing Nigerian federalism are worth considering. Especially compelling are proposals to review the exclusive and concurrent legislative lists in favour of the states, to give these states full autonomy to design their own local government systems, and to permit the establishment of constituent state police departments. But changing the constitutional and legislative frameworks of revenue allocation should be the overriding priority for sub-national governance reform in Nigeria. The main reform goal should be to transform the current federal revenue distribution system into a conditional grants scheme that rewards independent revenue generation, sustainable local socio-economic development, efficient service delivery and, in general, good economic governance. A more robust Nigerian federalism should deepen sub-national socioeconomic self-rule, while simultaneously enhancing shared rule or ‘federal character’ at the national level. Ensuring adequate inter-group representation at the national level is crucial to assuaging persistent fears of national ethnopolitical domination. Equitable inter-group representation at the centre is also critical because the Nigerian federation will remain relatively centralized even after reforms have been instituted to increase good sub-national selfgovernance. Such continued centralization reflects the origins of Nigerian federalism in unitary colonial administration, the legacies of civil war and military rule, the fiscal dominance of oil rents and other centrally collected revenues, and the imperatives of coordinated and balanced national socioeconomic development planning. Any credible attempt to enhance shared rule and assuage fears of ethnic domination must moderate the fierce and polarizing inter-group contestation associated with the struggles to attain or maintain presidential control in Nigeria. Aside from decentralizing power and resources to sub-national governments, constitutional options for mitigating the intense ethno-political stakes of presidential power include a return to parliamentary governance, adopting a mixed presidential system, constitutionally entrenching or formalizing current informal practices that balance and rotate presidential tickets along ethno-regional and religious lines, and curbing excessive presidential powers by promoting robust power-restraining institutions. Restoring parliamentary rule could make for a more collegiate and ethnically shareable executive. However, a shift from presidential to parliamentary rule is hardly attractive in Nigeria and other developing countries, where the presidential system is regarded as indispensable to achieving strong and stable national governance in fragile political milieus. Also, despite its short-lived
82 Rotimi Suberu promulgation by Nigeria’s military ruler in 1995, the mixed presidential system, featuring an elected president and a prime minister, has never gained significant appeal in the country. The system has an unfortunate reputation for consolidating, rather than diluting, presidential powers in several African countries. Even if the powers of the president and prime minister were more balanced constitutionally (for example, in so-called balanced semi-presidential or premier-presidential systems), such a design could easily encourage sectional infighting within the executive in Nigeria’s fraught ethno-political context. The informal rotation of the Nigerian presidency along North/South lines has been a truly creative, constructive, and stabilizing strategy for power sharing in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. In order to avoid the kind of paralyzing ethnopolitical deadlocks that have plagued rigid ethnic consociations like Bosnia and Lebanon, however, Nigeria’s inter-group power rotation practices should not become entrenched constitutional provisions. Rather, these practices should retain their character as informal political conventions. In the absence of robust institutions to restrain political power holders, a scheme for ethnic rotation of power can simply devolve into a system of revolving ethnocracies. Reforming federalism in Nigeria should, therefore, involve reconstituting power-restraining institutions in order to make them truly independent in their appointment, direction, and funding. Strengthening the agencies of restraint could enable Nigeria’s federal institutions to serve broad-based national and sub-national constituencies, instead of merely advancing the narrow interests of ethnic elite cartels. At the national level, the relative autonomy enjoyed by the judiciary, legislature, and the Electoral Commission should be deepened and then extended to other agencies, including the federal character, revenue allocation, and anti-corruption bodies. At the sub-national level, the Supreme Court invalidated on federalist grounds presidential orders in 2020 that sought to enforce new constitutional guarantees of financial autonomy for sub-national legislatures and judiciaries. But sub-national state autonomy cannot detract from the imperative to curb gubernatorial evisceration of legislative and judicial branches, local governments, traditional authorities, and key agencies like state electoral commissions and audit offices. The Uwais Report’s proposal for reconstituting INEC into a ‘truly independent, non-partisan, impartial, professional, transparent, and reliable’ agency represents a model of institutional design that can be adopted or adapted for designing all oversight agencies at national and sub-national levels (Federal Republic of Nigeria 2008, 25). The Report recommended that INEC board be constituted through a multilayered process involving not only the executive and legislative branches, but also the general public, civil society organizations,
The Elusive Quest for ‘Political Restructuring’ 83 and the judiciary. The process would begin with the generation of nominees for membership of the commission from the general public and designated civil society organizations. Based on these public and civic nominations, the independent National Judicial Council would prepare a shortlist of INEC board members. The advisory Council of State, chaired by the President, would then make the final appointment, subject to confirmation by the Senate. These recommendations of the Uwais Report should be adapted and entrenched as a general constitutional rule for appointing Nigeria’s oversight institutions. In addition, following the example of the funding arrangements already constitutionalized for INEC and the judicial and legislative branches, all regulatory institutions should be granted financial autonomy by constitutionally making their budgetary appropriations a first-line charge on the consolidated revenues of the federation or the respective states. The agenda of reforming Nigerian federalism, however, cannot be restricted to formal constitutional improvements in institutions of self-rule, shared rule, and limited rule. Federal restructuring and reform, to reiterate, can also be achieved through judicial arbitrations, ordinary legislations, informal political conventions and compromises, and even through benign constitutional circumventions, silences, or ‘side doors’ (Omiunu and Aniyie 2018: 384). Decentralizing practices that are at odds with Nigeria’s centrist Constitution, in particular, would and should continue to feature in the Fourth Republic, thereby functioning to alleviate the over-centralization of the federation even in the absence of nation-wide consensus or clarity on formal constitutional decentralization.
Conclusion The Nigerian Fourth Republic has witnessed vociferous agitations seeking to constitutionally restructure the overcentralized and beleaguered federation that the military bequeathed in 1999. Despite their stridency and intensity, however, agitations for restructuring are bedevilled by divergent and conflicted notions of restructuring, by North/South fault lines, by a lack of robust or sincere support for restructuring among critical governmental elites, and by the availability of non-constitutional, incremental, or more informal, alternative paths to federal reform and renewal. Yet, there can be little doubt that Nigeria’s federal constitutional architecture requires review and reform in order to make it less dysfunctional and more effective in promoting the country’s aspirations for national unity, democratic political stability, and socio-economic prosperity (cf. Onuoha in this volume).
84 Rotimi Suberu Such federal reform should focus on enhancing the fiscal viability and socio-economic responsibility of Nigeria’s current states. It should promote equitable inter-group representation within the powerful office of the Nigerian presidency, while establishing robust oversight or regulatory institutions that can scrutinize and enforce the accountability of political officials at national and sub-national levels. In addition, the quest for restructuring should build consensus for extensive constitutional change, while exploring and promoting judicial mediation, ordinary legislative supplementation, informal political compromises, and other non-constitutional opportunities of federal renewal and revival. The resilience, achievements, and prospects of Nigeria’s multi-state federalism are often understated by many proponents of restructuring. At the same time, it would be counter-productive to discount the real pathologies in Nigerian federalism that hobble national cohesion, undermine democratic development, prevent broad-based socio-economic prosperity, and fuel strident agitations for restructuring. A failure to address the real shortcomings of Nigerian federalism would not only leave the federal union economically dysfunctional and politically beleaguered, but also fuel violent disintegrative pressures.
3 Democracy in Nigeria: Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship BROWNE ONUOHA
Introduction This chapter argues that the current constitutionally centralized structure of Nigerian federation, the nature of the Nigerian state and the character of the political leadership, do not encourage democratic practice. The constitutional and structural defects and the other two elements are largely the aftermath of many years of military rule. Therefore, the ‘musical chairs’ which have characterized democratic practice since 1999 are a manifestation of the contradictions inherent in the three factors identified above, all of which resulted from nearly thirty years of military rule. Accordingly, the chapter will not undertake a review of elections, rule of law, and the other indices of democratic practice in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. These are discourses about Nigerian democracy and politics abundantly documented and are common place, and have not significantly changed from the records about them since 1999 (Ayoade and Akinsanya 2013; Obiyan and Amuwo 2015; Agbu 2016; Hamalai, et al. 2016). Rather the chapter is interested in examining reasons why elections/ electoral politics, rule of law and other elements of democratic practice are not significantly developing in Nigeria, focusing on why it is indeed unlikely that democracy in Nigeria will survive beyond what it is presently. It is an endeavour to identify impediments to democracy; why democracy in Nigeria may remain an illusion for some time to come. The chapter is in four sections. The first, following this Introduction, makes a brief comment about democracy and its illusions. The second section examines the federal structure and the 1999 Constitution, and the role of the military in the making of the Constitution. The 1999 Constitution contains inbuilt contradictions which constitute serious challenges to democratic practice in a plural
86 Browne Onuoha society and federation like Nigeria. The third section examines the nature of the Nigerian state and its capacity to conduct elections and observe other elements of democratic rule. It identifies a ‘coalition’ of political leadership, and how this has been manipulating the electoral processes and disregarding the rule of law. The fourth and final section concludes that, without unbundling the federation, giving more constitutional powers to the federating units, and addressing other ills identified, democratic consolidation may continue to be an illusion in Nigeria.
Democracy and its Illusions in Nigeria One of the remarkable political achievements of Africa close to the turn of the century was the achievement of ‘democratic transitions’ in the region in the 1990s (Bratton and van de Walle 1997, 1998; Ake 2000). Thereafter, Africa, has been able to escape military coups, or by regional and international pressure and blackmail, has been able to keep the military out of politics. Nigeria was one of the African countries that transitioned from military to democratic government after nearly thirty years of military rule, 1966–1979; 1983/84–1999. Democracy as a political idea has ever remained a debate (Satori 1973). The various indices provided by Macpherson (1964) as ‘possessive individualism’, Dahl (1973) as ‘processes’, and Schumpeter (1976) as ‘institutional arrangement’, view democracy as a means towards organizing for popular rule. In sum, democracy may be considered an ideal of participation and representation in governance which most states endeavour to approximate in practice, which they achieve (or may not achieve) at different times and at different stages of practice. One of the insightful thoughts about democracy is the submission by Satori (1973: xvii); insightful because of the relevance of his remark to the dilemma of democracy in Nigeria. According to Satori, democracy is three things in one: first a reality which is a rapid circulation of the elite (dominant class), second a desire for equality, and third, an illusion of direct government of the people (the masses). The reality, the desire, and the illusion (all driven by and rooted in ideology and type of social formation), combine to give meaning to the diverse interpretations and practice of democracy in Nigeria and elsewhere. The resurgence of democratic practice during the 1990s in Africa and elsewhere falls under the ‘Third Wave’ (of democracy) which gripped the world with the ‘fall of communism’ towards the end of the twentieth century (Huntington 1991). An analysis of democratic transition by Schedler was of the view that the ultimate goal of every democratic transition is ‘consolidation’ (Schedler, 1998: 100). But there could be reverses in democratic transition
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 87 (O’Donnell and Schmitter 1986). Therefore, theoretically, the preoccupation of a maturing or functioning democracy aiming towards consolidation is to: prevent democratic breakdown (for regimes that are authoritarian); prevent democratic erosion (for electoral democracies); complete democracy (for liberal democracies); deepen democracy (for advanced democracies); organize democracy (for advanced liberal democracies) (Schedler 1998: 95–100). According to this study, if ‘democratic consolidation’ is succeeding (positive), the democratic system should be reaching the goal of democratic continuity, maintenance, entrenchment, survival, permanence, endurance, persistence, resilience, viability, sustainability or irreversibility. But if democratic consolidation is negative (failing), that is, where democratic consolidation is not occurring, the system will be struggling to move beyond democratic fragility, instability, uncertainty, vulnerability, reversibility or the threat of breakdown (Schedler, 1998: 95–100). In Schedler’s study, both the positive/performing and negative/ non-performing aspects of democratic consolidation endeavour to ‘avoid democratic breakdown, avoid democratic erosion, that is, to ensure democratic survival’. However, democratic consolidation and what are identified as the ‘preoccupations’ of the political systems, whether authoritarian regimes or advanced liberal democracies, are as much a debate as democracy itself. But regardless of how democratic consolidation and its various preoccupations are understood, we may ask to what extent the practice of democracy in Nigeria is tending towards avoiding breakdown, erosion, and ensuring democratic survival, since these are the preoccupation of every democracy working towards consolidation. From the classification of Schedler above, and from known global reports of democratic performances and ratings, Nigeria may be classified as between ‘hybrid regime’ / ‘authoritarian regime’ and/or ‘electoral democracy’, preoccupied with the prevention of ‘democratic breakdown’ and ‘democratic erosion’. If we accept or assume that Nigeria is vacillating between ‘hybrid regime’, ‘authoritarian regime’, and ‘electoral democracy’, where does she stand presently in performance on the continuum of democratic consolidation, after twenty years of democratic practice? As stated above, this chapter is focusing on why it is unlikely that democracy in Nigeria will grow beyond what it is presently, until serious and fundamental reforms are embarked upon as suggested in the chapter. Nevertheless, we will isolate some indices of democracy and show how the federal constitution and federal structure, nature of state, and character of the political leadership frustrated the agencies, institutions, and processes of democratic practice, and stalled the development of democratic values. We may want to begin by isolating some indices of democratic practice: electoral process
88 Browne Onuoha and rule of law. These two capture and embody most of the other indices of democracy: protection of human rights, political participation, and all other fundamental rights. If we use elections and electoral processes as indices for measuring democratic performance, it will be correct to argue that elections in Nigeria have been bedevilled by serious electoral malpractices. The two exceptions to this high degree of electoral malpractices may be the ‘transition election’ of 1999, and possibly the 2015 election. The 1999 general election was supervised by the then outgoing military government, and their presence might have reduced malpractices, especially violence. In the case of the 2015 general elections, reports indicated that most Nigerians were fed up with President Jonathan’s PDP government, because of ineptitude, so much insecurity, corruption, unemployment and rising cost of living. The popular opinion was that most Nigerians needed ‘change’. In addition, and perhaps most critically, the party in power, the PDP, had irreconcilable internal disagreement during its National Convention in 2013 which led to it splitting – with the withdrawal of five PDP-controlled states from the party. The five breakaway states – Kano, Sokoto, Kwara, Adamawa, and Rivers – became known as the New Peoples Democratic Party (N-PDP); all, especially Kano, came with large voting populations. With some other opposition parties, the N-PDP formed a formidable opposition – the All Peoples Congress (APC). The two biggest among the opposition parties were the Tinubu-led Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN) and the Buhari-led Congress for Progressive Change (CPC). Thus, at the general elections in February 2015, the PDP was already divided, disorganized and weak, and could not win them and retain power. Nevertheless, the outgoing President Jonathan assisted the growth of democracy in Nigeria by his early and acceptance of defeat at the elections – the first in the history of democracy in Nigeria when a sitting President was voted out of power. With more cases of electoral malpractices (see Orji in this volume), the implications are that Nigeria may be functioning on a negative/non-performing path of democratic consolidation, with so much concern about instability, uncertainties, and threats of breakdown which had underpinned most of the elections since 1999. Also, from available records, elected governments since 1999 have had poor or low performance in the area of rule of law, in particular with their constant disregard for court orders or judgements, acts of impunity, long detention of citizens without trial, and many of such violations as further will be corroborated with international index rankings. In the next section an attempt is made to interrogate the factors that may be held responsible for the negative performance at democratic consolidation, beginning with an analysis
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 89
Figure 3.1. Former President Goodluck Jonathan and his successor, President Mohammadu Buhari during a meeting at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa. (Photo courtesy of the Nigerian Tribune, Ibadan, Nigeria).
of how the 1999 Constitution and the structure of the federation may have impeded democratic practice and consolidation.
Democracy 1999 Constitution and the Structure of the Federation Nigerian constitutions since independence have significantly contributed to eroding democratic practice. The Independent and Republican Constitutions, 1960 and 1963, instituted an unbalanced federal structure in which one region was larger than the two others put together. This created instability which manifested during the elections which were moments of struggle for power (Dudley 1973; Post and Vickers 1973). The 1979 Constitution was no different in precipitating election crisis in 1983 which again attracted military intervention into politics on 31 December 31 of that year ( Joseph 1991b). Yet in
90 Browne Onuoha 1999, nearly 50 years after 1966, there was a constitutional defect of overcentralized, overbearing federal government, superintending very weak, financially incapacitated federal units, again violating key federal principles of balance of power in a federation (Wheare 1964). Therefore, when the military hijacked power 1966, apparently conscious of the constitutional defects, it embarked on the creation of states, first in 1967. After the civil war in 1970, with greater demand by ethnic nationalities for more states, the military created additional states in 1976, 1981, 1987, 1992, and 1995 bringing the number of states to thirty-six plus the Federal Capital Territory. Ironically, the creation of new states did not translate to greater autonomy for states in general. Autonomy and self-determination were originally the first order demands for creation of more states. As it created more states the military centralized more powers under federal jurisdiction. In addition, in 1976, the Federal Military Government took over creation of local government and legislation on them as federal and not state matters, nor were these on the state legislative list. This was implemented under what the military referred to as ‘harmonization’ or ‘reform’ of local government system in Nigeria (Yahaya 1981; Gboyega 1987: 134–157). The centralized powers, including creation of and legislation on local government system, were entrenched in the Constitutions of 1979 and 1999. The details of the structure raised many questions, among them, in what ways and for how long under democracy did the military expect the centralized federal constitution to function unchallenged by the nationalities that made up the federation? Or how unencumbered would the constitution be to function in a democracy of heterogeneous nationalities like Nigeria? These are serious questions raised by scholars about stable democracies in plural societies (Kuper and Smith 1969; Young 1976; Lijphart 1977). Let us examine some relevant details of concentration of power in the 1999 Constitution (Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999), and how they create instability that impedes democratic practice (cf. Suberu in this volume). To begin with the legislative powers, the Federal Government controls virtually all the legislative powers; it controls sixty-eight items on the legislative list while the states control only twelve items; it also legislates on the twelve items, and in case of inconsistency in legislation thereon, the Federal Government has overriding powers. Also, there are agencies and institutions with enormous and strategic functions of allocation of fiscal resources which are under the firm control of the Federal Government. These include the Revenue Mobilisation Allocation and Fiscal Commission (ibid.: Third Schedule, Part 1, N.). The Commission is a Federal Executive Body appointed by and responsible to the central government. One of its key functions is to review, from time to
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 91 time, the revenue allocation formulae and principles in operation to ensure conformity with changing realities (ibid.). In addition, the Federal Government maintains other accounts in which state governments have no part, such as the National Wealth Fund, the Ecological Fund, the Petroleum Trust Fund, and the Educational Trust Fund. These further confer, disproportionately, powers on the centre against the federating states. With these exclusive accounts the centre can allocate resources, values, and patronages as it pleases (Onuoha 2015: 76–78). The implication is that, in the 1999 Constitution, power to allocate resources is no longer coordinate; instead the Federal Government has disproportionate control over national resources, and this is at a time when the derivation principle gave the states only 13% as opposed to the 50% in 1960–1966. The 13% Federal Allocation to states further weakens the federating units. Another form of federal control of the powers is the Petroleum Acts of 1966, 1979 (and as amended in 2019). These disproportionalities through military fiat are entrenched in the 1999 Constitution (ibid.; cf. Suberu in this volume). It is important to emphasize once more that the 1999 Constitution is a military product and document. In fact, the Constitution resulted from Decree 94 of 1995. Decree 94, and, of course the 1999 Constitution that it produced, was a clear expression and representation of ‘military mind’, which consists of the values, attitudes, and perspectives which inhere from the performances of the professional military function as executed by the military personnel (Huntington 1957: 59–79). The concentration and centralization of powers including all fiscal powers, takeover of local government from the federating units, and land use decrees, were aspects and expressions of that military mind, of military ideas, and these have implications for fiscal allocation to the disadvantage of the federating units. In a federation, political power tilts or is skewed in favour and to the advantage of whichever level of government is in control of finance. In the case of the local government reform, local government became the basis for financial allocation, rather than the states. Thus, the pattern of creation and funding of the local government induced further imbalance between the centre and the federating units. Indeed the very act of controlling the creation and funding of local governments in a federation of heterogeneous nationalities like Nigeria, implicitly is too centralizing, and a violation of the autonomy principle of a federation. All these constitutional matters have implications for democratic politics in Nigeria, especially when in connection with issues of who gets what, when, and how, which the powers of the Constitution confer, and which need to be settled through democratic means. The provisions of the Constitution, especially the imbalance in its various forms, have brought about widespread
92 Browne Onuoha feelings of injustice, unfairness, marginalization, and frustration, as well as lack of trust – between the government and the people on one hand and among the people on the other. Above all, there is no political affect or ‘system affect’ (Almond and Verba 1965: 63–84), and too little or no feeling of (Nigerian) nationalism. It is difficult to cultivate democratic values in a polity with such negative attributes of the conditions that enhance the development of democracy (Almond and Verba 1963). Politicians go into all manner of political alliances promising their ‘people’ they would correct the imbalance, ‘restructure the federation’, and provide the ‘dividends of democracy’; all part of the illusion. In reality the politicians are after their own interests. But this mindset of the politicians shapes electoral behaviour, and partly explains the frustration, desperation, and violence that have persisted in the political process in Nigeria, especially during elections. Concerned about the success of the 1999 Constitution, in April 1999, Ibrahim Gambari suggested an immediate review of the 1999 Constitution even before it came into use in May 1999. In a public lecture to inaugurate the 1999 Transition Government headed by retired General Olusegun Obasanjo, Gambari suggested that the 1999 Constitution was too centralizing, had inbuilt weaknesses, and would be difficult to operate without crises, especially during every critical contest like general elections. But no section of the society, not even the ‘progressives’ who struggled against the annulment of the 12 June 1993 election to bring about democracy, took note of Gambari’s observations. Theoretically, democracy is the most functional and workable approach to governance in federations because of the heterogeneous nature of federal systems. A workable federal constitution must embody the ‘federal spirit’, the ‘federal political culture’, which expresses ‘a particular mindset: a political disposition to negotiate and bargain among equals – suggesting above all, a willingness to compromise – over fundamental questions concerning constitution making in the process of state formation or reformation’ (Burgess 2012: 3, 7–31). Without ‘federal spirit’ it will be difficulty for democracy to survive in a federation. Therefore, if a federal constitutional design makes democracy difficulty, it means that federation may fail. Or if the structure of the federation makes democracy impossible or unworkable, the federation may not survive. This is the challenge presently confronting the Nigerian federation. The Constitution and the federal structure it introduced, are inhibiting the free practice of democracy. The weaknesses include power imbalance; constitutional powers are not dispersed, so much power is concentrated as well as centralized at the Federal Government level. Therefore, political actors go into frenzies and commit all kinds of electoral fraud in order to win political power and control government.
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 93 Put differently, constitutional power imbalance creates a condition for power struggle where contenders must assemble at the federal centre to struggle for whatever resources are available because it is only the centre that has power to allocate the major resources of the state. In Nigeria, the over-concentration of power at the centre, and the struggle it portends, generally weighs heavily on the electoral process, and democratic politics. Political actors do everything, including electoral malpractices in order to have access to power at the centre. The entire scenario is not helped by the fact that the Nigerian state which is supposed to play the role of umpire, or arbiter, between and among the competing interests does not have a relative autonomy and lacks the capacity to mediate and attain stability on its own (Ake 1985: 9–32, 1994: 9–14). The nature of the Nigerian state, and its role in ensuring democratic consolidation is the subject of the next section.
The Nigerian State and Democratization The nature and character of the Nigerian state may not promote democracy. According to several works, the Nigerian state lacks relative autonomy (e.g. Ake 1985, 1994). The elements that deny the state autonomy, that is the dominant class/interests, discourage democratic principles. The Nigerian state is of the character where the ruling dominant interests are said to have subordinated and ‘captured’ the state (Hellman, et al. 2000). The state is prevented from performing the role of arbiter, the umpire, which it is meant to be. The institutions and agencies of the state are seized to serve largely the ruling dominant interests. Those in control of power each time use the agencies and institutions of state, like the electoral bodies, to their advantage during elections and struggles for power; hence the army, police and all security agencies, and the electoral body, indeed even the judiciary, often work to the advantage of the faction in control of power at the point in time. Under such circumstances, democracy becomes democracy of the dominant interests, and the elections are to confirm the victory of those dominant interests – in the popular parlance, ‘bourgeois democracy’. Before the elections, the dominant interest in control of the agencies and institutions of state have taken control of the electoral processes, especially by being responsible for the appointment of the key electoral officers, including the chairman of the electoral body. The manner of appointment of these officers makes their autonomy in the performance of their duties difficult if not impossible. The rigging of elections is almost taken for granted. There has been no election since 1999 that was not bugged down with cases or allegations of rigging by
94 Browne Onuoha all the political parties, especially the major parties which control government; and in some cases incredible victories are procured at the law courts. A review of the elections since 1999 demonstrates how they have suffered the implications of ‘state capture’. Cases from the elections indicate that the country has largely remained on the threshold of democratic vulnerability and threat of democratic breakdown, and thus fallen short of democratic survival. Media/ press reports, and both local and international election observers’ reports on each of the federal elections since 1999 are agreed on the nature and form of electoral malpractices. A few extracts from observer reports may assist in representing the nature of general elections, and how the elections underscore the degree of fragility of democracy in Nigeria. From the reports, most of the Nigerian federal elections, from1999 to 2019 have been similar in terms of the degree of malpractices. The free, fair, and credible conduct of the elections were in breach, and the results were equally fraudulent. There were malpractices of all manner, including rigging, box stuffing and box snatching, violence, killing/assassinations, arson (burning of ballot boxes/papers and electoral offices), bribing of election officials, tampering with card readers, selling/buying of voter cards / buying of votes, tampering with official figures, suppressing of votes, intimidation, obstructionism; the electoral malpractices were endless. In many cases, election results were determined not by vote counts but at the law courts. All these were direct subversion of democratic principles. The European Union election observers of the 2007 general election noted that the general election was ‘the worst they had ever seen anywhere in the world’ with rampant vote rigging, violence, theft of ballot boxes, and intimidation. Max van den Berg, Chief of the European Observer Team, reported that the conduct of the 2007 elections had ‘fallen far short of basic international standards’, and that ‘the process cannot be considered to have been credible’ (Reuters 2007). The observers cited ‘poor election organization, lack of transparency, significant evidence of fraud, voter disenfranchisement, violence and bias’ as forms of malpractices at the elections (World Top News Ng 2007). Human Rights Watch described vote rigging in the 2007 elections as ‘shameless’, and ‘marred by … violence’ (Human Rights Watch 2007d). Olu Falae, Chairman of one of the contending political parties, Democratic People’s Alliance (DPA), which lost the election, in frustration called for Interim National Government to forestall a military coup. According to Falae, the election was ‘a shameful and day light robbery’ (Vanguard 2007). The President-elect himself, Umaru Yar’Adua, of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), in recognition of the degree of malfeasance, conceded that the election that brought him to power was flawed, ‘had shortcomings’. At his
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 95 inaugural speech, he made a commitment to electoral form (Daily Trust 2007). Before he died in 2010 he set up an electoral reform panel. The 2019 general election was reported to have recorded the lowest voter turnout in Nigeria’s twenty-year democratic practice, with 35.6% (Sahara Reporters 2019a). This appeared to indicate voter apathy, especially in the southern part of the country. The African Union observer mission judged the 2019 general elections as generally free and fair and credible, and that it was ‘largely peaceful and conducive to the conducting of credible elections’ (Insider 2019). However, Freedom House, a US-based electoral monitoring body, criticized the conduct of the elections as ‘marred by irregularities and widespread intimidation’ (Repucci 2022). Local observers lamented the militarized atmosphere of the election which promoted violence, intimidation, obstructionism, vote rigging and disenfranchisement; all of which reduced the credibility of the elections (CLEEN Foundation 2019b; Abdulganiy 2019). The opposition parties claimed that there were widespread fraud and irregularities; manipulation of votes from voter card readers; rampant cases of ballot box snatching, vote–trading, impersonation; they claimed that caches of explosive were found with the police (CLEEN Foundation 2019b). The Independent Electoral Commission (INEC), adopted ‘inconclusive elections’ status in crisis areas, more widely used than ever before which, however, succeeded in creating more doubts about the elections than credibility. In the particular cases where ‘inconclusive elections’ status was invoked, the final results after re-running elections went against the trend observed before voting was declared inconclusive. According to many observers, the 2019 general election was the most militarized in the history of elections in Nigeria (Vanguard 2019a, 2019b). The deployment of the military was unusual. The electoral process was so militarized that the credibility of the elections became questionable in some states, for example in Rivers State, Kano, and to a lesser degree in Lagos state. Some referred to the deployment of the military in Rivers State during the 2019 elections as a ‘military invasion’ (ThisDay 2019). The military deployed the full complement of a fighting force: tanks, gunboats, fighter jets, police, and Air Force helicopter (Punch 2020a; Abdulganiy 2019; CLEEN Foundation 2019a). From the media reports and those of election observers, it was the military, and not the police that took over the security and policing of the elections in Rivers State (ThisDay 2019). The military was reported to have been involved in shooting, intimidation, harassment, snatching of ballot boxes, blocking both local and international observers from gaining access to voting and collating centres (ibid.). In fact the military was reported to have encroached upon the collation Centre of INEC in Rivers State (ibid.). There were also reports of
96 Browne Onuoha military personnel obstructing the passage of the electorate to the polling units (ThisDay 2019). These forms of intervention by the military were in a manner that obstructed the smooth conduct of the elections. The deployment of the military was more seriously precipitated by the Commander-in-Chief, and incumbent President’s ‘shoot on sight order’ which he gave the military during the preparation for the elections. It may be observed that shoot on sight order not only violated democratic norms but also set the tone for the violence, intimidation, killings, and obstructionism which were witnessed and credited to the military during the 2019 general election. Therefore, the challenge for free, fair, and credible elections in Nigeria, in relation to the role of security agencies, appears to be how to reconcile the understanding of the Commander-in-Chief (any Nigerian Commander-inChief ) about ‘law and order’ – to which he has legitimate responsibility, and for which he has to deploy security forces – and free, fair, and credible elections which are a legitimate desire of the electorate as well as a requirement. In all the elections, and in all cases of electoral malpractices, the one common problem is the ‘Nigerian politician’ of whatever political party. The character of a Nigerian politician manifests clearly in a study of him as a member of a political ‘coalition’ that has remained potent since 1999 (Onuoha 2015) as is examined immediately below.
Nigerian Democracy and Dominant Political Coalition One of the inescapable consequences of the so many years of military rule, after a nearly thirty-year dictatorship, was the militarization of state and society. To make it more debilitating for democracy, many of the politicians who came to power in 1999 democratic transition were retired military officers and civilians involved in past military ‘political transition programmes’ from 1986 (General Ibrahim Babangida regime) to 1999, and/or their proxies. Thus, by the 1999 democratic transition, there was no clean break from military culture. It was more or less, the same character of the leadership; and their immediate protégées have remained in control of democratic rule since then. Elsewhere these politicians have been analysed as ‘a coalition’ which was a social formation, and an aftermath of the military rule and civil war, 1966–1999. We have ignored civil rule, from 1979 to 1983 because we considered four years of civilian rule insignificant in modifying that social formation. The coalition is made up of three interconnected social groups: first, ex-/retired very senior military officers; second, ‘new rich’ who had easy money from civil war economy, and military government patronages in the allocation of mineral oil blocks/mineral oil exploration, government contracts, and related businesses; and third, a group who made their money through outright fraud
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 97 (popularly known as 419 in Nigeria, which is another aftermath of the civil war), drug traffickers (drug barons), and other illicit and at times criminal businesses, These groups have since coalesced into one in the control of political power (Onuoha 2014: 328–329).The coalition and/or their proxies were the only ones who could afford the type of huge money required for Nigerian politics during the transition exercises in the 1990s. They took over control of democratically elected government in 1999, and have remained in control of political power ever since. It has been suggested severally that this coalition has no national or nationalist agenda, and does not bend to democratic ethos. It has neither respect for democratic norms and values nor a democratic agenda (Ake 1994). For the coalition, politics is business which must make profit. Their overall investment, and premium, in politics is high. So politics/democracy is a high-stake business which must return profit: the state is the investment. Because it is business, the cost of governance is high. The remunerations for elected officials/legislators, from the President to the least politician at the state/local government levels are said to be among the highest in the world. The huge benefits for politicians partly explain the violence and scramble for political office. This scenario set the stage for the type of malpractices in democratic elections in Nigeria. This is because elections must be won in order to win power to be able to fully participate in the expropriation from the state. Certainly those types of politicians and their political activities, especially during elections to win political power, will not deepen or consolidate democracy. Most of their political activities, particularly in the electoral process violate the known principles of democracy. In other words, most of the participants in the democratic experiment in 1999 grew up under military rule, civil war economy, and military culture or military expressions, including impunity, arbitrariness, dictatorship, and disrespect for rule of law, and those years of military rule and military values stalled the growth of democratic culture. The arguments so far in the chapter are confirmed by global reports of some international organizations studying global democratic practice. They are the Economist Intelligence Unit that studies global democratic practice, and the World Justice Project (WJP) that investigates global observance of the rule of law. The Economist Intelligence Unit has four classifications of the degree of performance of democracy in various countries. The four classifications are ‘full democracy’, ‘flawed democracy’, ‘hybrid regime’, and ‘authoritarian regime’, each represented by a numerical score indicating performance: 8.01–9, 9.01–10 (full democracy); 6.01–7, 7.01–8 (flawed democracy); 4.01–5, 5.01–6 (hybrid regime); 0–2, 2.01–3, 3.01–4 (authoritarian regime). In the classification, Nigeria at different times is ranked, ‘hybrid regime’ and ‘authoritarian regime’.
98 Browne Onuoha According to the Economist Intelligence Unit: Hybrid regimes are those with regular electoral frauds, preventing them from being fair and free democracies. They commonly have governments that apply pressure on public opposition, non-independent judiciary, widespread corruption, with harassment and pressure placed on the media. They exercise an anaemic rule of law, and more pronounced faults than flawed democracies in the realm of underdeveloped political culture. They experience a low level of participation in politics, and issues in the functions of governance. Authoritarian regimes are regimes where political pluralism has vanished or is extremely limited. Often, absolute monarchies or dictatorships, and may have conventional institutions of democracy but with meagre significance; infringements and abuses of civil liberties are commonplace. Elections (if they take place) are not free and fair. The media are often state-owned or controlled by groups associated with the ruling regime. The judiciary is not independent, and there are omnipresent censorship and suppression of government criticism. Table 3.1 highlights the performance of Nigeria on the rating of the Democracy Index for the various years. In the sixteen years of the Democracy Index, Nigeria was ranked eight times ‘hybrid regime’ and eight times ‘authoritarian regime’. Both classifications are at the bottom of the ladder, marking a dismal performance of democratic practice for the entire period covered. Regardless of the common criticisms against the Intelligence Unit Reports, and other such reports, they are not too different from the researches of national and international scholars or what the local and international observers have reported about the practice of democracy in Nigeria, especially as demonstrated during our national elections since 1999. Some of the findings were presented earlier in this chapter. Neither are the reports too different from what our national studies and researches, and local media reveal as the performance of our governments in democratic practice, and their persistent inability to encourage the development of democratic values. The second democracy index study is that of World Justice Project (WJP), which also reports on the performances of Nigeria from a global perspective, covering the period of our study (Table 3.2). The focus of the Report, and what the rule of law measures are eight indices: constraints on government powers; absence of corruption; open government; fundamental rights; order and security; regulatory enforcement; criminal justice; and civil justice. In 2011, the Report had this to say: Nigeria is among the bottom half of the lower-middle countries in most dimensions [out of ninety-seven countries]. Checks and balances on the executive branch function relatively better than in other Sub-Saharan African countries, although corruption is prevalent. The country is
2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 2021
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16.
167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167 167
score 4.12 3.52 3.53 3.47 3.47 3.83 3.77 3.77 3.76 4.62 4.50 4.44 4.44 4.12 4.10 4.11
No. Of countries Overall
109 124 124 123 123 119 120 121 121 108 109 109 108 109 110 107
Overall position
Source: Compiled from the Economist Intelligence Unit Reports for each year
Year
S/N
Table 3.1 World Democracy Index, 2006–2021 (Nigeria Ranking).
Hybrid regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Authoritarian regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime Hybrid regime
Classification
100 Browne Onuoha Table 3.2. World Justice Project (WJP). Rule of Law Index 2012–2021 (Nigeria Ranking).
S/N Year
No. Of Countries
Overall Score Overall Position
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.
97 99 102 113 113 126 108 139
0.45 0.39 0.41 0.44 0.44 0.43 0.43 0.41
2012–2013 2014 2015 2016 2017–2018 2019 2020 2021
74/97 93/99 96/102 96/113 97/113 106/126 108/121 121/139
(Source: Compiled from WJP Annual Report of each year).
affected by civil conflict and political violence (ranking 58th); crime and vigilante justice remain serious problems (ranking 50th) which in part is explained by the shortcomings with the criminal justice system (ranking 53rd and third to last in the region). (WJP 2011)
In the 2012–2013 Report, the following remarks were made: Nigeria ranks near the bottom half of lower-middle income countries in most dimensions [out of ninety-seven countries]. Checks on the executive branch are relatively weak (ranking 74th) and corruption is endemic (ranking 95th). The country is afflicted with civil conflicts and political violence. Crime and vigilante justice are serious problems (ranking 94th), as is the performance of the criminal justice system (ranked 94th overall and last in the region). Nigeria best performance is in the area of civil justice, where it ranked 53rd globally and 4th among its income peers. (WJP 2013)
Again in 2014 the Report stated: Nigeria ranks 93rd overall [out of ninety-nine countries] and near the bottom half of lower-middle income countries in most dimensions. The country ranks 69th for checks on the executive branch and 76th for open government, putting it slightly behind average ranking of Sub-Saharan African countries. Yet, in most of the other indices, the country remained one of the poorest performers of the region. Corruption is widespread (ranking third to last in the world), the criminal justice system has deficiencies (ranking 91st overall, and second to last in the region), fundamental rights are poorly protected (ranking 88th overall), and a
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 101 deteriorating security situation continues to raise significant concern (ranking second to last overall). Nigeria’s best performance is in the area of civil justice where it ranks 52nd globally and 7th among its income peers. (WJP 2014)
According to the table of WJP, since 2015, Nigeria has remain at bottom end of the global ranking: 96/102 in 2015, 96/113 in 2016, 97/113 in 2017–2018, and 106/126 in 2019. If we may sum up the reports, in Nigeria ‘corruption is endemic’; she is ‘afflicted with civil conflict and political violence’; ‘fundamental rights are poorly protected’, and there are ‘deteriorating security situations’. These observations and rankings of Nigeria foreclose democratic survival. Thus, the WJP Rule of Law Report gives evidence of the low-level performance of Nigeria in the area of rule of law under democratic rule. This is not different from the Global Democracy Report which identified Nigeria as performing poorly in the practice of democracy as well as in the development of democratic values. Nor do these reports differ from local media observations about the country’s disregard for rule of law and democratic practice. An outstanding national daily in Nigeria had a scathing editorial on Buhari’s violation of rule of law, citing cases of the former National Security Adviser, Sambo Dasuki, the Shi’ite religious leader, Ibrahim El-Zakzaky, and Sahara Reporters publisher Omoyele Sowore. These three were kept in detention against court orders that they be released.1 Also, there were cases of invasion of the homes of very senior judges and senior members of the judiciary accused of corruption. There was also the forceful removal of the Chief Justice of the Federation, Walter Onnoghen, from office.2 These and other cases of impunity, arbitrariness, and disregard for rule of law, not peculiar to the All Progressives Congress (APC) government of President Mohammadu Buhari, 2015 to 2023, mark the practice of democracy in Nigeria since 1999. (See also Modibbo-Umar’s and Isumonah’s chapter in this volume.)
Conclusion: Democracy and the Remaking of Nigerian Federation While there can be no doubt that elections have come every four years during the Fourth Republic, the polity is still far from the norms and values of a democratic system: norms and values required for democratic consolidation. Even at the level of ‘electoral democracy’, elections in Nigeria since 1999, on 1 2
14 Punch 19 December 2019. 15 Punch 26 January 2019.
102 Browne Onuoha the average, have not been free, fair and credible. In other words, Nigeria, thus far and to a large measure, has been conducting elections without democracy (Schedler 2002: 36–50). Also it has performed poorly on the scale of rule of law. Therefore, with respect to democratic consolidation, there is no significant evidence that politicians are concerned and making serious attempts to encourage democratic values. All the political parties are guilty of electoral malpractices, impunity, disregard for rule of law, and disobedience to court orders. Transparency and accountability required for successful democratic governance are lacking. The transparency index ranked Nigeria 146 out of 180 countries in 2019, second to the last in Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) countries (Transparency International 2020). Therefore, drawing from the study so far, Nigeria is barely an ‘electoral democracy’. Vacillating between ‘hybrid regime’ and ‘authoritarian regime’, Nigeria’s democracy is vulnerable, although it has managed at each election to escape breakdown. However, there is constant erosion. Thus, Nigeria is far removed from democratic consolidation. (See Diamond’s Afterword in this volume). At this point it is important to make some observations. In an attempt to examine democratic practice in Nigeria, analysts consciously or unconsciously ignore the fact that Nigeria was under military rule for nearly thirty years, which included two and a half years (thirty months) of civil war, 1967–1970. In the history of nations, a combination of military rule and civil war, for that length of time, has far-reaching consequences on all aspects of development, including the practice of democracy. The values of the military on the political system, as consequences of their occupation of the political space for so long, are fundamental and antidemocratic. In the Nigerian case the problems were exacerbated by the kind of leadership that the military dictatorship produced during its years of rule. There is also the issue of lack of political trust arising from the 1999 ‘Military Constitution’ and the Nigerian federal structure. But scholars have not paid sufficient attention to these, and the extent to which they might have weakened the prospect for practice of democracy. Indeed, even Ake, whose works on Nigeria (and Africa) are rigorous and authoritative, gave little or no attention to the impact of military rule and the civil war on Nigeria’s social formation and socio-political development; especially how, one way or the other, those might have shaped the growth of democratic values (Ake 2001, 2000, 1991, 1994, 1985). More importantly, there is nothing presently on the agenda of government to introduce a political socialization programme to demilitarize Nigeria in order to promote democratization of culture (Mannheim 1962).
Crises and Consequences of Military Dictatorship 103 It is germane to address the impact of military rule and civil war on democratic politics because aspects of the national crises which created instability, and which appeared to be used to rationalize or justify military intervention in politics in 1966 are still festering: power imbalance, demand for self-determination, lack of citizens trust and belief in the system, feelings of marginalization and injustice and inequitable distribution of national resources, ethnic divide, and others. These issues and demands are as acute today as in 1960–1966 and, if not resolved, will intensify crisis and instability – which erode democratic practice. In an attempt to emphasize the seriousness of the impact of the military in democratic politics, I have argued elsewhere that the combination of the negative consequences of military rule and civil war on Nigeria’s socio-political development are competing for space on the pages of history with the negative impacts of colonialism on the same political system (Onuoha 2014: 334). As attempts were made since the 1960s to correct the impact of colonialism on the nation through political socialization and other measures, so also efforts must be made to correct the negative impact of the military rule through political socialization programmes to recreate the national psyche, if democratic values must be cultivated. Put differently, Nigeria has to interrogate demilitarization of the country, and come up with proposals on how to overcome the sociopolitical and disruptive consequences of military rule and the civil war on the practice of democracy. An example for such a new socialization programme through formal and informal education is Rwanda following the end of the 1994 genocide in that country (Mwambari and Schaeffer 2011:167–186). Another constraint on democracy in Nigeria is the cost of governance. Nigeria’s oil wealth produced a psychology of consumption, profligacy, prodigality, and waste. Thus, presently, Nigeria has some of the highest costs of governance in the world: the daily or routine cost of governance is very high, legislators remain among the highest remunerated in the world, and large spoils of office remain, with easy access to national assets by those in public office – which must rank among the most lucrative in the world. Because of this false sense of wealth, political parties also raise the cost of seeking public office. The cost of an ordinary ‘eligibility to contest’ election form of the major political parties is scandalously high. These significantly contribute to the high premium and high cost of politics in Nigeria; also to why politicians who ‘invest’ in politics, have the false disposition that an election must be won; and the major reason for all the election malpractices is to make profit from their investment in politics. Therefore, in order to reduce this and build an environment of national service by political actors, the cost of governance must
104 Browne Onuoha be reduced, spoils of offices whittled down, public office made less lucrative, so that only those ideologically motivated and committed to serve Nigeria will be in the majority. It should be quickly added that this ideal may not be effected by the present crop of Nigerian political leadership, the ‘coalition’ already identified above in this chapter. Perhaps this is also why democratic consolidation in Nigeria may take longer. Democratic consolidation may be a mirage as long as the present Constitution and federal structure of Nigeria remain. The present federation is a militarily structured unitary/federal mix. The matrix intensifies the old unresolved power distribution mechanism among the ethnic nationalities in Nigeria from the 1950s to 1966. Thus, during 1999–2022, the military unitary/federal mix reduced democracy to a platform for fraudulent and violent struggle for power among the political leaders. Democracy in Nigeria remains less a means of service or governance than an avenue for profit. Democratic consolidation may not be achieved, nor democratization of culture developed in Nigeria unless and until the issues canvassed in the body of this chapter are fundamentally as well as rigorously addressed.
PART II
PARTY POLITICS, THE PRESIDENCY, AND THE INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY
4 Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Negation of the Popularity Principle JIBRIN IBRAHIM
The Fourth Republic has been ongoing for more than twenty-two years and the expectation has been that, with longevity, there will be democratic consolidation in the country. The First Republic lasted only five years while the Second Republic had an even shorter life span of just over four years. The received wisdom in Nigeria has been that the military did not allow the first two Republics to mature and they did not even allow the Third Republic to take off. The significance of the longevity of the Fourth Republic is that we can now see and analyse political dynamics and democratic development more clearly. This chapter argues that the main challenge to democratic development is the political party system which has refused to accept the practice of internal party democracy and remains locked into a logic of serving the interests of godfathers and party barons rather than party members and citizens. The result is that they have for the most part jettisoned the popularity principle that pushes parties to seek for the most popular candidates to enhance their chances of their victory at the polls. We will show that, at its origin, this practice was premised on the prevalence of the culture of electoral fraud which makes nonsense of the vote. The culture has however persisted even when the integrity of the electoral process began to improve in 2011. What then is the pathway for reorienting the political system towards democratic practices?
108 Jibrin Ibrahim
Political Party Development in Nigeria The development of political parties in Nigeria dates back to 1923 when the Nigerian National Democratic Party was launched. This followed the establishment of the Nigerian Legislative Council to provide some political space for the participation of indigenes in the colonial system. Franchise was however limited to two cities – Lagos and Calabar. A more vigorous process of party formation was initiated with the formation of the Nigerian Youth Movement in 1938 and the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC) in 1944 under the leadership of Herbert Macaulay. The Action Group (AG) emerged in 1948 while the Northern People’s Congress (NPC) was established in 1951. These parties constituted themselves as political expressions of ethnoregional associations with AG in the West evolving from a Yoruba cultural association – Egbe Omo Oduduwa, the NPC evolving from the northern cultural association, Jamiyar Mutanen Arewa and the (remamed) National Convention of Nigerian Citizens (NCNC) which started as a national party but later narrowed its social base to a cultural association, the Igbo State Union of the Eastern Region. These ethno-regional elite blocs struggled against each other in configuring the politics of the First Republic as a contest for hegemony by the elites of the major ethnic formations – Hausa/Fulani, Yoruba, and Igbo. This involved the marginalization of the minority groups. Massive electoral fraud in the 1964 and 1965 elections precipitated a political crisis that led to the collapse of the First Republic, civil war, and the entry of the military into Nigerian politics. The military devoted a lot of attention into devising a new type of party system they thought will be more national and less divisive. To understand the military impact on party political processes, it is important to remind ourselves what happened under the Second Republic. The opening salvo was that, even before that, both the Yakubu Gowon (1966–1975) and Murtala Mohammed (1975–1976) regimes tried to steer the country towards a zero-party or one-party system with the clear intention of establishing more effective state control over the political process. When these attempts were rejected by the political class and civil society, the military used the search for national unity argument to popularize the idea of the necessity of imposing ‘Pan-Nigerian’ conditions for the registration of parties. The immediate result of this was that the definition of a political party was changed from what it was in the First Republic. Rather than an organization formed by a number of people to propagate certain ideas and contest for power, it was redefined as an organization that is ‘Pan-Nigerian’ and so recognized by the state to contest elections. Section 201 of the 1979 Constitution specifically limits the definition of a
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 109 political party to an organization recognized by the state to canvass for votes. The law forbids any organization, not so recognized to canvass for votes. More importantly, both on the juridical and political levels, parties were no longer considered as popular organizations that aggregate and articulate interests and opinions but as corporate entities that are registered with the state. This meant that the political birth of parties was no longer determined by popular support but by administrative fiat. In the run up to the Second Republic, 150 parties were announced and about fifty of them were fully constituted as parties, but only eighteen were able to feel that they had any chance of meeting the new registration conditions, and submitted their applications. The state recognized only five of them in 1978. They were the National Party of Nigeria (NPN), the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN), the Nigeria Peoples Party (NPP), the People’s Redemption Party (PRP), and the Great Nigeria People’s Party (GNPP). The 1979 Constitution banned independent candidates from contesting elections and outlawed regional, ethnic, religious, and extremist parties (that is, ideologically extremist parties such as those seeking for the revolutionary overthrow of the political order). The transition process encouraged the emergence of one dominant party which was the NPN, established in 1978 as a coalition of various factions who had roots in the regional politics of the First Republic (Ibrahim, 1991). The founding fathers of the NPN systematically waxed a coalition from the segmented and disparate fractions that constituted the Nigerian political class. All the efforts towards building a fully hegemonic party did not bear fruit. The 1979 elections revealed that the political parties retained strong regional bases and ended up sharing the votes without any of them completely dominating the others. However, ideological politics was strong, with the PRP and the UPN on the ‘left’ while the other three parties were on the ‘right’. The 1979 constitutional provisions set in motion the process for weakening internal party democracy and intra-party party competition. The fact that parties were parties because they were recognized by the state meant that party leaders were party leaders not because they were popular with their grassroots members, but because they were so recognized by the state. Of course, this did not preclude the fact that some of the said politicians were popular. What is important to note is that, during the Second Republic, many politicians started changing their political behaviour. They started taking the short cut of simply seeking to expel their rivals within the parties, for so-called anti-party activities, rather than the route of persuading them or conceding to the principle of accepting outcomes of primaries. The role of party officials became more important than that of party members because they decided on nominations for electoral posts. Factions developed in all the parties, and the
110 Jibrin Ibrahim state then became the arbiter that decides which faction was the ‘genuine’ representative of the party. The state, however, acting surreptitiously through the courts, and the Federal Electoral Commission (FEDECO), was often less than neutral in their decisions. In the GNPP and PRP factional crises, for example, the factions that represented the majority of party members and the elected legislators of the parties were declared illegal and the minority factions were recognized (Ibrahim 1991). Many popular politicians were thus denied the right to contest in elections. The logic of democratic politics is that parties try to get popular candidates to improve their electoral chances. The level of electoral fraud in the 1983 elections when the NPN tried to eliminate the other parties from the political arena was so massive that conditions were created for the return of the military three months after the elections. General Muhammadu Buhari, who carried out the coup d’état, did not last long and was replaced by General Ibrahim Babangida. The Third Republic that never was, witnessed a flurry in the establishment of new parties that were subsequently banned by the Ibrahim Babangida regime (1985–1993). His regime then established two political parties: Social Democratic Party (SDP) – ‘slightly to the left’ and National Republican Convention (NRC) – ‘slightly to the right’. When elections were held in 1993 and M.K.O. Abiola of the SDP won, Babangida annulled the election, thus precipitating the collapse of the Third Republic before it took off. The Fourth Republic was initiated through the 1999 Constitution. For its first elections, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) recognized only three political parties – the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), the All People’s Party (APP) and the Alliance for Democracy (AD). Following a Supreme Court judgement on the case Balarabe Musa v. INEC, conditions for registration of political parties were liberalized.1 Subsequently, Nigeria’s political space witnessed an unprecedented opening with the emergence of sixty-three registered political parties by April 2011. Prominent among the new parties are the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), the Congress for Political Change (CPC) and the Peoples Progressive Alliance (PPA). In addition, many small parties took advantage of the liberalization of the political space to register parties that have proven to be unviable, but had served as vehicles through which prospective candidates who had no access to nomination in their own parties could come and get a ticket at a price (Liebowitz and Ibrahim 2013). Some of the parties that had been refused registration by INEC went to court to challenge their non-registration. The matter went right up to the Supreme Court which ruled that INEC had imposed additional conditions not known to the Constitution for the registration of parties. The Electoral Commission was therefore ordered to register all parties that met the basic conditions spelled out in the Constitution. 1
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 111 In order to promote credible elections with the existence of strong political parties, Section 78(6) of the 2010 Electoral Act provided INEC with the power to de-register any political parties that failed to win any executive and legislative seats in elections. Only ten parties won seats in the 2011 elections. On 18 August 2011, INEC de-registered seven parties that did not contest for any election office in the 2011 elections. As indicated in the Daily Trust (2011) they were the Democratic Alternative, National Action Council, National Democratic Liberal Party, Masses Movement of Nigeria, Nigeria People’s Congress, Nigeria Elements Progressive Party and the National Unity Party (Hassan 2011). The Electoral Commission also announced its intention to de-register more parties as soon as the numerous court cases by some of the parties were determined. At the end of 2012, an additional thirty-one political parties were de-registered, leaving only twenty-seven registered.
Nigeria’s Political Party System Nigeria operates as a two-party dominant political system in which the ruling APC and the main ‘opposition’ (and former ruling) party, the PDP, control enormous resources compared to the others. At the beginning of the Fourth Republic, only three political parties were registered, but the Supreme Court decision allowed for the liberalization of the regime and many more parties were registered. There are three categories of political parties – the two dominant parties, parties with parliamentary representation and the other small parties, most of which were established as possible platforms for important politicians that lost out in the bigger parties, or to access nomination for elective posts. The President and state governors tightly control political parties and party leadership is at the beck and call of these executives who can change them at will. The President is considered to be the leader of the dominant party – All Peoples’ Congress although another person has been designated as party leader and there is yet another person who is elected party chairman. At the state level, although a party chairman exists, state governors are the leaders of the party at that level. This system is replicated in other parties that have state governors. The general situation is that Nigerian political parties are not fit for purpose, they do not stand for anything in terms of the ideological spectrum and their activities are not driven by a membership that has agency (Ibrahim 2014). Competition in Nigeria’s party system is very intense within the ruling and main opposition parties and less so between the other political parties. This is due to the fact that, since 1979, Nigeria has developed the tradition of major blocs of the political elite coalescing into a main political party
112 Jibrin Ibrahim conceived as a hegemonic party. In elections that were relatively free and fair, namely, the 1959, 1979, 1999, and 2015 elections, the parties that had the highest votes, the NPC, the NPN, the PDP, and the All Peoples’ Congress respectively failed in their desire to be hegemonic or truly dominant through the polls. In the elections of 1964, 1983, 2003, and 2019, they all abused their incumbency powers to transform themselves into dominant parties. In essence, the political parties used electoral fraud to boost their control of the political process and weaken opposition parties. Competitive party politics is thus weak as the ruling parties have often falsified the electoral game while the parties in opposition have too narrow a political base and insufficient resources to effectively compete for power. The transmission of power from the ruling PDP to the opposition APC in 2015 has not led to significant change in the country’s party dynamics. The greatest challenge facing Nigerian democracy is the absence of a real and functional party system. The Electoral Commission has complained repeatedly that many parties have been operating with invalid national executive committees whose tenures had expired or were not reflective of the federal character as required by the Constitution. It would be recalled that Sections 222(a–f ) and 223 (1–2) of the Constitution stipulate clearly that registered political parties must each have a functional national headquarters address in Abuja. Furthermore, members of the national executive committees of the parties must not only reflect federal character but also have tenures that are renewed at intervals not exceeding four years. The Attahiru Jega-led INEC had de-registered a number of parties for not adhering to these constitutional requirements and for not winning seats in any elections, but the courts have always been lenient and permitted parties to continue to have legal existence even when they do not meet the constitutional requirements. The current Mahmoud Yakubu-led INEC has pursued the same actions. Virtually all parties have very little respect for internal party democracy (see also Agbaje in this volume). That is to say that they do not conduct their internal affairs based on the principles enunciated in their constitutions and rules. Party officials and candidates for elections are not elected in accordance with the rules of the game. Party conventions become occasions in which governors and godfathers simply impose candidates of their choice rather than people voted for by members and delegates. The lack of internal party democracy weakens the internal coherence of most political parties and creates a situation where the judiciary, rather than delegates, becomes the arbiter of who the candidates are.
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 113
Party Registration and De-registration As has been pointed out above, Nigeria’s political space witnessed an unprecedented opening with the emergence of sixty-three registered political parties by April 2011. Many of them were small entrepreneurial parties created to search for wealthy potential candidates that could pay bribes to party officials to get nomination for elective positions. The position of INEC has always been that registered parties should be sufficiently strong to contest for and win elections. They had never supported that idea that small parties could grow and develop over time and eventually reach the stage of winning elections. It was for this reason that INEC lobbied for and obtained the insertion of Section 78(6) into the Electoral Act providing INEC with the power to de-register political parties that failed to win any executive and legislative seats in elections. As only ten parties won seats in the 2011 elections, INEC de-registered many parties that did not contest for any electoral office at that time, leading to the reduction of registered political parties to only twenty-five. The reality on the ground however has been that the hands of INEC have been tied since the Supreme Court judgement in Balarabe Musa and others v. INEC, prohibiting the electoral management body from imposing extra-constitutional measures to bar parties whose national executive committees have been properly constituted. The attempt to weed out parties that fail the test of winning elections through the amendment of the Electoral Act could not work because the liberal ruling of the Supreme Court made it easy for these parties to simply re-apply for registration knowing that the hands of INEC are tied and it has a legal obligation to register them. It was for this reason that the legal basis for de-registration was escalated to the Constitution. The Electoral Commission’s power to de-register political parties was uplifted from the Electoral Act to the Constitution. Arising from the fourth alteration (No. 9, 2017) of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, which commenced on 4 May 2018, certain amendments were made with regard to INEC’s control of political parties. Specifically, Section 225A of the Constitution, which is part of the alteration makes provision for the power of INEC to register and de-register political parties, thus: Power for the De-registration of a Political Party 225A: The Independent National Electoral Commission shall have the power to de-register a political party for – a. Breach of any of the requirements for registration; b. Failure to win at least twenty-five percent of votes cast in:
114 Jibrin Ibrahim (i) One State of the Federation in a Presidential Election; or (ii) One Local Government of the State in a Governorship Election; c. Failure to win at least – (i) One ward in the Chairmanship election; (ii) One seat in the National or State House of Assembly Election; or (iii) One seat in the Councillorship Election.
In February 2020, INEC used its power of registration and de-registration to prune the number of political parties from ninety-two to eighteen. The decision to axe seventy-four political parties was justified on the basis of their poor performance in the 2019 election. The increase in the number of our political parties to ninety-two had created a lot of confusion in the minds of the electorate. For voters, it was often difficult to distinguish between similar symbols or emblems of the parties. The Electoral Commission faced a huge challenge printing very long ballot papers that could contain the list of all the contestants. In addition, the huge bulk of the voting materials created a transportation crisis as many of the materials were too wide to enter the hold of small aircraft. The reduction of numbers is considered as a first step towards creating the conditions for the development of capable political parties that could grow in popularity based on a growing membership and a good programme. The problem however is that the de-registered parties could always re-constitute themselves and apply and obtain a new registration. Indeed, in May 2021, INEC announced that about forty new parties had applied for registration. The electoral body however took the decision that it would not register any new parties until after the 2023 elections and the judiciary did not intervene to force its hand.
The Underdevelopment of Nigerian Political Parties The core problem of Nigerian parties is that virtually all of them are not real membership parties (cf. Adebanwi in this volume). This means they do not really seek to recruit members and those presented as so-called party members have virtually no say in party affairs. Parties, small and big, have ‘godfathers’ who control their affairs as Abubakar Momoh has argued: The influence and power of godfathers have continued to shape and reshape the nature of internal democracy within political parties and this continues to play a significant role in understanding the crises in political parties in Nigeria. Not only do godfathers influence politics
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 115 within their parties but they have also sought to influence other civil societies that could become instruments in their bid to perpetuate their political powers. (Momoh 2014: 91)
He draws attention for example at the way in which the leadership of the National Union of Road Transport Workers (NURTW) become tools of godfathers in doing the heavy lifting of controlling political parties at the local level in certain parts of the country. The practice therefore is for godfathers and party barons rather than members to run parties through clientelist networks that are used by the party barons to ‘deliver’ crowds for rallies and party congresses (cf. Husaini in this volume). Indeed, parties tend to treat their members with disdain and utter disrespect. Consequently, the political relationship within the parties is essentially one between patrons and clients, and the clients are mobilized on pecuniary, ethnic, religious, or regional bases. The clearest demonstration of this disdain for party members was in 2005 when the then-ruling PDP dismissed all its members. According to the party: ‘The People’s Democratic Party (PDP) is full of members who fraudulently obtained their party membership cards’ (Ibrahim 2013 quoting Nigerian Tribune 23 November 2005). These were the words pronounced by Col. Ahmadu Ali, Chairman of the PDP, to justify the decision of the party to dismiss all its members in November 2005. For weeks, the PDP enjoyed the distinction of likely being the only ruling political party in world history without a single member. Following the dismissal of all the party members, a thorough process of screening was developed to ensure only the right type of people were re-admitted back into the party. Among those refused registration were the then Vice President of the country and numerous state governors elected under the platform of the ruling party. Party godfathers took over control of the screening process to ensure that all those who posed political risks to their authority were not allowed back into the party. Were it not a tragic story, it could have been comical as party godfathers and barons deployed armed policemen to ‘protect’ the party and its offices from its erstwhile dissolved members. Atiku Abubakar who was a founding party member and at the time the Vice President of Nigeria led protestors in a national campaign insisting that as a foundation member of the party he must be re-registered. In a rare moment of magnanimity, the President ordered the party to register the Vice President. They obeyed. The party leaders had all been imposed in congresses where the party constitution was set aside and party leaders were appointed by presidential fiat rather than elections. In trying to understand why a party would dismiss all its members and make it difficult for them to re-integrate, we need to understand the relationship between parties and elections in Nigeria. Nigeria has a long history of
116 Jibrin Ibrahim incumbent parties rigging elections to retain power. This happened in the second-round elections of 1964 – after the relatively free and fair election of 1959. It was repeated in 1983 after the relatively free and fair elections of 1979. In the Fourth Republic, the 1999 elections were relatively free and fair but the elections organized by incumbents in 2003 and 2007 were considered by many observers to be the most fraudulent elections in Nigeria’s political history. Fraudulent elections have a direct impact on political parties. They destroy the popularity principle that guides the actions of political parties in democratic political systems. In democratic systems, political parties devote themselves to recruit members and supporters who would promote the party and vote for it during elections. When seeking candidates to contest in elections, parties would accept the people who secure the highest votes in primaries because such people have shown themselves to be popular and could therefore win elections. When political parties however know that they would win elections through electoral fraud, they do not require popularity from members and supporters. What they require are state power, arms, thugs, and money to rig the elections. In other words, such parties are not about democracy and elections. The report of experts prepared by the National Institute of Policy and Strategic Studies just before the 1983 elections, correctly predicted that the elections could not be conducted without massive electoral fraud because the parties in power were not ready to allow others to come to power (NIPSS, 1983: 3). The report also showed that only the 1959 and 1979 elections were held without systematic rigging and that those two elections had one point in common: they were held in the presence of strong arbiters, the colonial state for one and the military for the other, who were not themselves participants in the elections and who desired free and fair elections at those instances. Indeed, it has been observed that rigging is almost synonymous with Nigerian elections (Kurfi 2005: 101). Are elections doomed to the machinations of fraudsters who frustrate the democratic aspirations of the Nigerian people? I do not think so and, as we shall, see substantive changes have occurred over the past few years. Citizens cannot be perpetually frustrated in terms of their democratic aspirations that candidates they vote for in the majority emerge as bearers of their mandate. Precisely because of this history of electoral fraud, elections in the country have often been associated with political tension, and indeed with violence and crises (Adekanye 1990: 2). The outcomes of many elections in Nigeria have been so contested that the conditions for the survival of the democratic order have been compromised. This sad history of electoral fraud or rigging has serious implications for our democratic future because as long as it does
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 117 not change, our democratic future will remain risky. Indeed, major political conflicts have emerged around rigged elections over the past five decades (Kurfi 2005: 97). Historically, it was precisely because many elections were not events in which party members and supporters express political choices that a political party would think it was acceptable for it to sack all their members, demonstrating the simple reality that unlike the case for ‘normal’ political parties, they do not need the members. This type of attitude has significant impact on the nation’s political process. The Justice Babalakin Commission of Inquiry into the 1983 elections correctly argued that: The nature of politics and political parties in the country is such that many men and women of ability and character simply keep out of national politics. For the most part, political parties are dominated by men of influence who see funding of political parties as an investment that must yield rich dividends. (FRN 1986: 348)
The history of electoral fraud has severely impacted on the internal culture of ruling parties. Competition in Nigeria’s party system is very intense within the ruling party, and less so between or among the other political parties. The competition internal to the parties is not about who has the votes of members. It is about those who can use anti-democratic tactics – violence, bribes, illegal use of security agencies, and so on to obtain leadership or nomination by force. The test case for this trend of anti-democratic politics occurred with the first case in which an incumbent party was defeated in an election – 2015. The party, the APC became successful partly because it was able to convince many governors of the then-ruling PDP to abandon their party and join it. Since the APC took over power, floods of godfathers and barons from the PDP have joined the new ruling party in a process Abubakar Momoh has called political nomadism: Political nomadism represents the defection(s) or arbitrary movement of politicians from one political party to another, or their formation of completely new party, after dumping their original party of membership. What makes the defection nomadic? This is because first they turn political parties into grazing grounds and second because the rate of defections is so high, arbitrary and sometimes in explicable. These defections are often on grounds of lack of internal democracy in the party, godfatherism, highhandedness and usurpation of power and abuse of position. Like is the case with any grazing ground, nomads will return to it or abandon it depending on whether the land is vegetated or barren. Hence political nomads do not mind returning to their initial party of origin, if their interest is best served. Interest rather than principle is the driving force. (Momoh 2014: 92)
118 Jibrin Ibrahim Momoh differentiates between political nomadism and cross carpeting, a lot of which takes place in the National Assembly. While the former does not foreclose the possibility of a politician moving out of a party into another party for a while, and returning to the original party after some period, the latter presupposes that a politician moves completely from an original party to a different party. Such a politician may or may not return to his/her party of origin. Cross carpeting takes place within parliament while political nomadism takes place in the context of the political party.
Improved Elections and the Difficult Return of the Popularity Principle The 2011 elections were a turning point in the history of Nigeria’s democratic development (cf. Orji in this volume). That was the first time in Nigeria’s postcolonial history when an election organized under the auspices of a ruling party was considered freer and fairer than the previous election. The trend started to change because while 2003 was worse than 1999 and 2007 was worse than the 2003 elections, 2011 election was better than the previous one. The emergence of Professor Attahiru Jega as INEC Chairman was a critical factor in changing the trend because of his competence, determination, and leadership skills. Significant improvement to the compilation of the voter’s list and the introduction of a biometric ID-card were key elements that induced change. The subsequent introduction of the verification machine was another element. Meanwhile, citizens’ experience of mandate protection measures and their deployment of civic action to protect their votes had been growing since the 2007 elections. President Goodluck Jonathan, who appointed Jega, was also less willing to engage in brazen political manipulation to favour his party. All these combined to provide the outcome of improved elections (Ibrahim 2014). Once the integrity of elections begins to improve, they are supposed to have an impact on the nature of political parties. Specifically, the popularity principle is supposed to return and parties with more popular candidates should begin to win in response to the stimulus. There has however been no clear indication that parties had started to change their character because the nature of elections was changing. Nonetheless, the evidence from the field should have provided clear guidance to the parties. The leading opposition party in the 2011 election, Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), led by Muhammadu Buhari provides a good example. Buhari had left his previous party, the All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP), which he considered was being manipulated by dishonest godfathers. He therefore established the
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 119
Figure 4.1. A man works with a hammer on a wall with election posters at an open market in Kano, 27 March 2015. (Reuters / Alamy Stock Photo).
CPC as a different type of party where justice and fair play would reign and rules would be followed. Buhari was massively popular in the North East and North West of Nigeria and his supporters considered him to be a man of integrity. The CPC was therefore expected to be a different type of party by his supporters. Political pundits expected that the popularity of Buhari in the two zones would create a political tsunami that would lead his party to win at least six gubernatorial seats in the North East and North West. The CPC ran primaries that were hotly contested and many gubernatorial aspirants contested the primaries, with the popular ones believing they would succeed because this was a party that was really committed to justice and fair play. Following the elections, analysts were surprised that the CPC did not win gubernatorial seats in the North East and North West. They produced only one governor, in Nasarawa State, which was not considered to be a stronghold of the party. This unexpected outcome requires some reflection (Ibrahim 2014).
120 Jibrin Ibrahim The CPC had a serious crisis because there were widespread accusations that their primaries were conducted and winners emerged undemocratically. In many of the states in the zones in which the party was most popular, the names of those who had emerged as victors in the primaries were apparently substituted by other names that were alleged to have bribed CPC party barons. It is difficult to determine whether these allegations were true. What is known however is that in many states such as Bauchi, Kano, and Katsina, there were litigations on alleged substitution of names of winners and losers in primaries. This affected the CPC because, in many cases, voters did not know the name of the real candidate until a day or two before the election. The most important issue however was that supporters of Buhari believed that party officials had betrayed ‘Mai Gaskiya’, the ‘truthful’ Buhari, by receiving bribes and imposing unpopular candidates. Voters in the zones therefore voted for the CPC in the presidential election and voted for other parties in the gubernatorial elections. In other words, party supporters punished their party by refusing to vote for their candidates at all levels except the presidential one because they believed that the CPC, like the other parties, had nothing but disdain for its members. This was a huge lesson for all political parties that they needed to change their ways and respect democratic party processes to win elections. The experience of the CPC is important and should be studied in more detail. There is however little evidence that political parties have learned any lessons. In the 2015 primaries and the subsequent primaries for gubernatorial and legislative elections that have taken place since 2015, it remained business as usual. Godfathers continue to manipulate the process and impose their candidate at will. What this tells us is that those who control the political parties are not convinced that political culture has changed and that therefore the improvements that have occurred in terms of elections becoming freer and fairer would be reversed. This is an important lesson for democratic forces. They need to intensify the battle for credible elections or all the gains in terms of improving the integrity of elections could be lost. The current INEC Chairman, Professor Mahmoud Yakubu, has shown a clear determination to pursue the path of sustaining the trend of improving the integrity of elections in the country. Many of the national and state commissioners of INEC are also known to be competent election managers but also people committed to working for free and fair elections. The challenge for all democratic actors is therefore to work with the electoral management body to ensure that the elections continue to improve. The strategic objective in this regard is not just to have better elections but to create the knowledge in the political system that parties that wish to do well in future must develop an attitude of recruiting members, but above all, respect their members by strictly
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 121 adhering to party constitutions and rules, which is the proof that they respect party members. In other words, party godfathers must be made to understand that if they continue to impose candidates who are not popular on the party, then the likely outcome would be that the party would lose elections. In other words, Nigerians have to make it clear to godfathers and barons that their era is over and the future is for parties to recruit real members who will decide on the conduct of party affairs. Nigerians must begin to mould our parties to become key players in democratic politics. Since 1999, civil society and development partners have invested vast resources in capacity building for political parties. The United Nations system, European Union, the Department for International Development (DFID) of the United Kingdom, United States Agency for International Development (USAID), International Foundation for Electoral Systems (IFES), National Democratic Institute (NDI), International Republican Institute (IRI), the Westminster Foundation for Democracy and others have invested millions of dollars to raise the capacity of political parties, but the impact of the investment has been limited. The parties have not been growing in terms of their membership, capacity to win seats or even more importantly, in their democratic practice. For example, the law that stipulates party officials should subject themselves to elections every four years, but often, this does not happen. In general, the law requires elected party officials serve for a maximum of four years, renewable once. Some parties have changed their constitutions to allow persons to retain perpetual control. The constitution of Action Alliance, for example has been changed to allow for a national leader of the party who has basically a life tenure. ARTICLE 33 of the Constitution states as follows: 1. TENURE OF OFFICE (GENERAL) a. All officers of the Party at all levels elected pursuant to the provisions of this Constitution shall unless removed or expelled remain in office for a period of two years and may be re-elected to the same office for a further term of two years only; b. The term of office of the National Leader of the Party shall be ten years in the first instance and may be renewed for as many terms as the National Convention may determine Provided that nothing in this Constitution shall preclude the National Convention from conferring on any member who has exceptionally contributed to the founding, funding and growth of the Party the status of life National Leader of the Party.
Clearly therefore, the national leader of the party has been redesigned to run it perpetually. Away from the challenges of parties expressed by stakeholders
122 Jibrin Ibrahim is the position of INEC Electoral Institute as regards the stumbling blocks often experienced by parties thus: While there are many factors to mention with regard to challenges facing political parties in Nigeria, some of the most obvious and significant include non-substantial compliance with the provisions of the law in the conduct of party primaries for the selection/nomination of party candidates or flagbearers and executives. Mention could also be made of the unending and domineering influence of money bags. The idea of candidate imposition as well as different factions within a party are part of the noticeable challenges associated with internal democracy of political parties in the country. Money continues to dominate our political parties and the way they operate. Favoured or the super-imposed ‘consensus candidates’ continue to surface in party platforms turning democratic conventions to endorsement post-mortem. These and others not mentioned have continue to render delegates and party members irrelevant and continued to be major breeding grounds for pre-elections litigations that always either destabilized [the] electoral plan or destroyed it completely. In fact, much of the INEC challenges in the conduct of elections always start from improper and undemocratic party primaries. Post primary litigations are germane in this regard. It is our firm belief that the day our political parties get to play their primaries rightly and appropriately, marks the beginning of consolidating our electoral successes. (Dr Sa’ad Idris, Interview 2021)
The Director General of the Electoral Institute strongly recommends the conduct of regular assessment of political parties for the following: (i) Improvement of transparency and accountability by providing verifiable information that will enable the citizens to assess and form informed decisions about each party before, during and after elections. (ii) Establishment of a fact-based strategy for operations such that will make parties to hinge [their] campaigns based on issues, not ethnic or other primordial sentiments. Each political party must have a mechanism of assessing its operational guidelines and programme vis-à-vis the societal demands and as a response to what other political parties put in place to solicit and canvass for votes from the electorates as well. (ibid.)
It is clear that the pathway to deepening democracy is to engage with political parties to make party membership less ephemeral and more real. Nigerian political parties need members not patrons or clients. The attachment of people should be to political parties not to patrons or godfathers who pay for their engagement in the political process. The mode of participation in political party activities, which is currently mediated by political bosses to whom people owe allegiance, should change. In general, party life is most
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 123 active around election time and patrons and godfathers engage in party activity to obtain nomination and elections for themselves or their surrogates. When they fail to obtain the position, they tend to move out with their clients to other parties in search of new opportunities. In Nigeria therefore, both for the patrons and their clients, adherence to political parties is very fluid and opportunistic. It is also true that, at the grassroots, many people own multiple party cards as they seek to be invited to as many party congresses as possible, because the tradition is to pay participants for their support and votes. Such people therefore move from party to party in search of opportunities. This is the entrepreneurial approach to politics, which should be replaced by a more democratic one. It is important to build a new political ethos based on principles and an issue-based approach to politics.
Ideology and Issue-Based Politics The ideology question and the left/right divide have largely disappeared from Nigerian political parties. Therefore, party conflicts are focused on issues of personalities, ethnic groups, religion, geopolitical zones, and the control of power. Yet, ideology matters in Nigeria. Nigerians are largely opposed to the liberal economic policy packages supported by the Bretton Woods institutions. Political parties can therefore articulate this vision, but they do not. The Constitution requires that all political parties draw their programmes and manifestos from Chapter Two of the Constitution – Directive Principles of State Policy. That section of the Constitution places a lot of obligation on the state to provide for the welfare of citizens. It is virtually a social democratic manifesto. Party manifestos however elicit little interest or debate because the parties simply provide them to satisfy a constitutional obligation. The key challenge for political party development is therefore to bring issue-based politics back to the agenda. During the Second Republic for example, the UPN was known for its commitment to free education, the NPN for its housing policy and the PRP for its opposition to taxing the peasantry. It is difficult today to associate any issue with any political party. The motivation for engagement in party activities in Nigeria today is simple – power and money. The motivation for political contest is dominance and control, not ideology or issues. Civility is one quality that is largely absent in political party life. The most important aspect of the internal functioning of political parties in Nigeria since 1978 is that they have a persistent tendency to factionalize and fractionalize. As people go into politics to seek power and money, the battle for access is very intense and often destructive. Thugs, violence, and betrayal are often the
124 Jibrin Ibrahim currency for political party engagement. Indeed, the period leading to each election is marked by the assassination of party leaders and contestants for various offices. The reality in the political field is that political ‘godfathers’ who use money and violence to control the political process essentially operate many political parties. They decide on party nominations and campaign outcomes and when candidates try to steer an independent course, violence becomes an instrument to deal with them. The result is that they raise the level of electoral violence and make free and fair elections difficult. Although parties have formal procedures for the election of their leaders, these procedures are often disregarded; when they are adhered to, the godfathers have means of determining the outcomes. The level of violence, thuggery, and monetization of Nigerian politics provides a significant disincentive for women to take part as candidates, and the monetization aspect also makes young people less likely to influence politics in an effective way due to their lower level of access to resources. The female politician is a major victim of the lack of civility in the political process. She suffers from various modes of marginalization, many of which are hurtful and full of invectives (see Ibrahim and Salihu 2004). In general, party officials refuse to take the candidature of female aspirants seriously. Ironically, one of their main reasons was the affirmative action policy adopted by some of the parties waiving nomination fees for female aspirants. Party executives in most constituencies set out to label women as aspirants with less than the required commitment to the party. Party barons at the local level repeatedly argue that by convincing the national executives to remove nominations fees for them, women have demonstrated a lack of commitment to the development of the party. This argument was used to make declarations that male candidates are more committed to the party because they make their financial contributions willingly and that commitment should be recognized and rewarded. Such officials therefore succeeded in labelling women aspirants as ‘anti-party’ people and thereby created the basis for their exclusion. It is worthwhile recalling the analysis of Geoff Wood on the role of labelling in elimination competitors: The authors of labels, of designations, have determined the rules of access to particular resources and privileges. They are setting the rules of inclusion and exclusion, determining eligibility, defining qualifications … The authors of labels successfully imposed on others are powerful. (Wood 1965: 352)
Once a negative label has been successfully imposed on an aspirant, it is easy to exclude the labelled person irrespective of the formal rules and procedures established, because the person’s legitimacy has been eroded. A second negative
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 125 labelling strategy used to exclude women aspirants has to do with the cultural deviant label. The way the arguments is presented is that Nigerian culture does not accept assertive, or public, or leadership roles for women. The 1979 Constitution introduced the concept of indigeneity into Nigerian public law as an equity principle to guarantee fair regional distribution of power. Over the years, the principle has been subverted and used to discriminate against Nigerian citizens who are not indigenes of the places where they live and work. Women who are married to men who are non-indigenes of their local governments suffer systematic discrimination. While women suffer greatly from the large repertoire of techniques used to eliminate people from political party primaries, less powerful men also suffer. Nigeria needs to move away from the culture of transactional politics.
From Transactional Politics to Issue-Based Leadership In the political party primaries for the 2023 general election held in May and June 2022, small cracks are beginning to appear on the armour of transactional party politics. There are some constraints placed by the newly passed Electoral Act. The first is that it is not possible to contest in the primaries of a party, lose and try again in another party. The second is that the large number of statutory delegates who are not elected delegates but legislators or government appointees can no longer vote in primaries. This means that only elected delegates, most of them controlled by state governors would determine the outcomes of primaries. In the new context, it becomes easy for aspirants to know their chances by simply noting where the governors stand in terms of political support. It was in this context that the former Anambra State governor and PDP presidential aspirant, Peter Obi, resigned from the PDP to seek an alternative platform to realize his political ambition, the Labour Party. Peter Obi was considered one of the top contenders for the party’s presidential ticket, and ran an excellent issue-based campaign. He abruptly left the party just three days to its presidential primary election on two grounds, the refusal of the party to zone the position to the South East zone and the excessive monetization of the primaries – aspirants were reported to be offering bribes as much as $20,000 per delegate (Ibrahim 2022b). What was new about the primaries this time was that many contestants were openly beginning to challenge the nature of the transactional political activities they were engaged in. Many were demanding why they should pay huge bribes to delegates who will at the end vote for the aspirant designated by the godfather or president/governor.
126 Jibrin Ibrahim The most interesting example is Adam Namadi, the son of the former Vice President, Namadi Sambo, who issued a statement confirming that he has requested that PDP delegates should refund his money, that is, 76 million naira (two million per delegate) that he used to bribe delegates to the Kaduna North State House of Assembly Constituency primaries (ibid.). The argument is simple: to contest, all aspirants pay the party huge nominations fees that are stated up front to be non-refundable. If in addition, an aspirant is asked to pay an unauthorized inducement fee that would guarantee the nomination and the amount is paid, then the expectation is that the ticket will be guaranteed. Most candidates are however paying the inducement and not getting the position. Namadi explained that ‘as a mark of respect for that agreement, some delegates in the Kaduna North constituency have started to reach out to unsuccessful State House of Assembly aspirants … followed by my fellow contender, Shehu Usman, ABG and I. Therefore, I am not acting in isolation or making any ludicrous demands.’ The reality is that they are calling for honour among crooks and this is not a reasonable expectation. An aspirant for the Kaduna State Governor’s seat, Senator Shehu Sani, publicly declared he was not ready to bribe delegates and made a special plea to delegates to vote for him because of his excellent manifesto. He was the last in the primaries and got only two votes. As the vote was by secret ballot, he publicly requested to know who were the two good delegates that voted for him. To his shock, he declared on his Twitter feed that 300 delegates sent him messages that they were the ones that voted for him. Clearly, the idea of honour among thieves is one that has very little traction (ibid.). When certain groups are able to completely determine political outcomes, competition disappears and the very logic of transaction politics: ‘I give you money and you give me the position I am seeking for’ begins to crumble. That is where electoral politics is today. The way forward is to begin to dismantle transactional politics itself. The first step is for the political parties, next time round, to reduce the very high cost of nomination forms, such as the scandalous N100 million for the ruling APC for example. The next step is the reduction of the cost of campaigns. Some researchers have estimated that it costs as much as US$2 billion to win a presidential election in Nigeria and the amount increases significantly with each election. Ironically, the recently revised Electoral Act, which previously placed the maximum amount to be spent by a presidential candidate should not exceed N1 billion ($2.4m) has now been increased to N5 billion ($12m). The law allows the candidate to spend $12 million but the candidates are spending up to $2 billion. This is not reasonable. The underlying problem is that none of the presidents of the Fourth Republic has had that money to invest in politics
Democratic Regression, Political Parties, and the Popularity Principle 127 so political entrepreneurs pay for the process and of course have to make their money back with handsome profits. It is a process of deepening corruption in the political system. Itis important to engage in civic education to get ordinary citizens to realize that they have the numbers to take over and run political parties, fund them themselves and empower a new set of politicians devoted to the pursuit of the public good. This is the theme we need to come back to after the current madness we are witnessing in the party primaries. The pathway to deepening democracy in Nigeria is to get ordinary members take control of their parties and if they are blocked, to move en masse to other parties that might be ready to play the democratic game. The way to improve democracy therefore is to make party membership less ephemeral and more real. The attachment of citizens should be to political parties and not to patrons or godfathers who pay for their engagement in the political process. The mode of participation in political party activities, which is currently mediated by political bosses to whom people owe allegiance, must change. It is in this context that committed and competent political leadership can begin to emerge. In his classic lecture on leadership qualities, ‘Mutumin Kirki: The Concept of the Good Man in Hausa Society’, Kirk-Greene (1974) defined the attributes that people seek in good leaders. They are truthfulness, compassion, integrity, trust, and generosity for those in need. Wealth and material success were not considered important attributes in the selection of leaders. Today, those who can provide the biggest bribes for the biggest number emerge as leaders. For democratic development, Nigeria must develop an overwhelming consensus that political leadership cannot remain the only job for which no qualification appears necessary except to have a lot of money, usually, stolen money. It is clear that for as long as the current pattern of leadership recruitment continues, our troubles will continue. It is for this reason that we must find a way to bring relevant criteria to bear on the selection of leadership. As I have argued elsewhere, Nigeria needs to find a way of making character, competence and capacity to determine who leads (Ibrahim 2022a). Only people of proven integrity should be considered for leadership. People know who are the persons of good character in their communities and henceforth there should be widespread discussions to identify people with integrity to be considered for positions. Many such people may not propose themselves for public office knowing the high level of monetization of our politics and might therefore rule themselves out for consideration. The benefit of community involvement in the process is that resources could be raised collectively to support their candidature. People who have been known, formally or informally, to have been involved in corruption must be
128 Jibrin Ibrahim ruled out of consideration at the outset. Truthfulness is another important criterion for consideration. Leadership requires people with a vision of what they want to achieve for Nigeria. Of course, those who want to present themselves can get good consultants to write up a vision and programme for them. It is therefore important to define competence on the basis of the track records of proposed candidates – professional background and accomplishments, community engagement and service, views expressed on political, economic and social issues. There has to be minimum education standard – a degree or higher national diploma. Finally, age and good health are key factors in leadership and Nigerians know a lot about this issue. It is not ageism to say that the elderly should be encouraged to stay out of politics because they are unlikely to have the energy for the enormous work involved in running a country as large and complex as Nigeria. Governance success requires respect and knowledge of how democracies work at their best. The good profile for a democratic player includes respect for due process and the rule of law. Even more important is the disposition to be always ready to promote participation of members – community, political party, assembly, etc. – in other words, people with an ingrained civic culture. Nigerians need a new breed of leaders who see their role as listening to the people and negotiating compromises that address at least some of their needs. Thorough and open discussions of policy programmes before their adoption is extremely important in democratic systems. Nigerians will have to move away from politics as brute expression of power or manipulation. A civic culture that respects and builds citizenship is, therefore, very important. The fundamental objective of political party development should be to reverse this trend and get more people with ideas and vision to integrate the leadership of political parties. As Nigeria moves on following the 2023 elections, it is imperative that political parties imbibe the culture of internal democracy as a means of creating harmonious conditions that would not only enhance their performance but also be of help when they eventually win elections.
5 A Republic of Dashed Hopes? Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic ADIGUN AGBAJE
[I]t is important to understand how political parties are formed, the rules or procedure of their registration, their internal organization (whether they afford open political participation to their members through democratic processes), their social base and inclusiveness (whether they reflect the diversity of society) and the extent to which there is a level playing field for all parties in terms of access to electoral resources such as the media, funding and freedom to operate without intimidation. These issues determine how well parties are institutionalized and whether a genuine multi-party democracy exists in a country. (ECA 2005: 38) Our uncertainty about other aspects of the transition process can be diminished [when] we … pay much more attention to value change [and] move much more toward the intensive study of political parties … political parties may be used to perpetuate [any] rule. The critical political question is when this rule will lead toward democracy and when it will simply contribute to the maintenance of an authoritarian order. (Bermeo 1990: 369–370) The problem we have had in Nigeria is that every succeeding election is worse than the previous one … That does not show growth, and it does not show that our democracy is being deepened, talk less of thriving. (Ken Nnamani, quoted in Sunday 2017)
130 Adigun Agbaje Political parties of the Fourth Republic were bred to be agents of democratic erosion and collapse, rather than strong ramparts for the construction and consolidation of democracy … the road that led … here (to the Fourth Republic) was a long one, stretching back many decades, to the colonial era (Agbaje 2010: 69–70) It is bad for people to rig elections. But life in Nigeria is a rigged life. The electoral process, the political parties, the governance structure, the entire system, everything is decidedly rigged against the ordinary person. It is, in fact, almost absurd to talk of rigging here when that is what the entire system is all about (Abdullahi 2003) Rigging is almost synonymous with Nigerian elections. (Kurfi 2005: 100)
As it literally was from the beginning (1998–1999), recent evidence June–July 2020 from intra-party and inter-party politics surrounding the governorship election in Edo State held little or no promise of a better life for Nigerians in the political terrain. The developments, involving mainly the two major parties in the state, namely, the All Progressives Congress (APC) and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), displayed the dramatic twists and turns that served as evidence and reminder of a failure of Nigeria’s party system to mature since the inauguration of the Fourth Republic and an unprecedented (unbroken) twenty-two years of rule by civilian politicians (see Ibrahim’s chapter in this volume). Such evidence included a disdain for rules and procedures on both sides, lack of coherence, party indiscipline and virtual absence of internal party democracy (see also Ibrahim in this volume), the overbearing role of powerful individuals and cliques, abuse of state offices and resources, threats and use of violence, near-absence of vision and of idea-based contestations, as well as attacks on personalities as the essence of party politics, among others. The result was that the APC ended up selecting the candidate of the PDP in the 2015 election as its candidate for the 2020 election, dropping the incumbent governor, its own candidate in and winner of the previous election, while the PDP ended up fielding the incumbent governor who was the candidate of the APC in the same earlier election. In the immediacy of June–July 2020, evidence pointed to a continuation of those forms of behaviour, values, and practices of party politics that have been toxic to the substantive attainment of the democratic dream of the Fourth
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 131 Republic, stretching back to even before the Fourth Republic to include those other republics before it. No doubt, the new Republic has witnessed the further opening up of political spaces in the last two decades plus when compared to the long periods of military rule before it (1966–1979, 1983–1999). The point, of course, is that it was never contemplated that the ultimate goal of Nigeria’s struggle for a democratic republic was to open up the political spaces; for to be satisfied with only that without bothering about the credentials and nature of the forces that would inevitably fill those spaces would have been counterproductive, creating even more problems for the new Republic. Against this background, the question that then arises on this important issue of party politics is: where goes the Fourth Republic? Would it end up largely like it was at the beginning, is now, and therefore ever-more and unchanging, or is there a silver lining that conduces to a more promising future that breaks away from current and past practices? This chapter addresses this all-important issue: party politics and its prospects (Agbaje 2004: 201–233) in the context of the travails of democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic within the constraints of the uncertainties of the future and
Figure 5.1. Former President Olusegun Obasanjo and President Muhammadu Buhari meeting at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa in Abuja during Buhari’s first term. In the middle is Senate President Bukola Saraki (third right). (Photo courtesy of the Nigerian Tribune, Ibadan).
132 Adigun Agbaje the boundaries set by historical realities dating back to the pre-Fourth Republic era. In this regard, the take-off point of this chapter is that perhaps there is no better simultaneous evidence of cause and effect of the troubled and shaky nature of Nigeria’s democratic experiment since 1999 than the nature of party politics that has been witnessed over that period. The Republic was heralded onto the stage of history with much hope for a more democratic, stable, and development-oriented disposition than ever before, especially so in the preceding First, Second, and ‘aborted’ Third Republics. The democratic experiment has survived, but that is literally as much as could be said for it. It is not surprising that there has been a very close connection between the fortunes and misfortunes of that Fourth Republic and the shenanigans of its party politics. This chapter examines the dynamics of this interconnection over the twenty-two-year period, drawing appropriate lessons in party politics from previous eras, and teases out elements of continuity and change in the unfolding Republic. In this regard, special focus is directed on the two dominant party tendencies since 1999 and their various manifestations in the revolving power equations of ruling and major opposition parties. These tendencies have largely presided over a republic known more for celebrating the appearances rather than substance of democracy, the personalization of political leadership and virtual privatization of political spaces by party leaders more tactical and selfish than strategic and statesmanlike in their vision, and over a regime of de-institutionalization in the name of re-institutionalization. Others include a political culture and economy of impunity and lack of restraint and a social terrain noted more for exclusion, intolerance, disdain for the rule of law, inequities and injustice, than for inclusion, tolerance, due process, and the rule of law, equity, and justice. Finally, there is a federation that remains largely nominal while retaining its highly centralized nature (cf. Suberu in this volume) – all potentially fatal to viable and functional party politics and the search for democracy and development with peace and justice for all (Agbaje 1997: 361–383, 2004: 201–233; Agbaje and Adejumobi 2006: 25–44; Agbaje, et al. 2007: 79–97; Agbaje 2010: 63–88, 2018: 351–352). The future of the Republic, the chapter argues, will ultimately depend on comprehensive effort to review and revamp the its democracy and economy, engage in re-institutionalization and value re-orientation to encourage the organic emergence of the values and practices required for substantive democracy, development, and peace. It is in such contexts that viable and meaningful party politics able to better serve the democratic republic in the future can emerge. The six epigraphs to the chapter signpost the contrast between aspirations and reality in the travails of the journey so far towards party politics supportive
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 133 and reflective of democracy in the prelude to, and since, the Fourth Republic. The first takes the form of an African-grounded and African-derived indicator of what is expected of a party politics and its wider political context that is supportive of meaningful democracy. The statement shows the extent to which Nigeria has scored very low in terms of its observance of the minimum conditions thus laid down by the Economic Commission for Africa’s African Governance Report (ECA 2005). Second, Nancy Bermeo, noted student of comparative democratic transitions, reminds us again that the outcome of such transitions and their attendant institutional engineering are not simplistically over-determined on the side of enhanced democracy but can in fact conduce to either autocratic or democratic rule. As she puts it, such transitions create their own uncertainties that can be better understood and reduced when more attention is paid to the study of political parties. Against the backdrop of these first two epigraphs that help locate the Nigerian experience in the context of the African scorecard and global unpredictability of the processes and outcome of democratization beyond declarations and labelling, the remaining four epigraphs, written in turn by Nigerians (former Senate President, academic, journalist, and former administrative head of the federal electoral management body), underscore the extent to which in practice Nigeria has fallen short of the dreams of its founding fathers in terms of the goal of installing a republican democratic order based on supportive party politics, among others. New actors have arisen over the period in consideration, along with new strategies to address changing circumstances, but basically there has been no change for the better in party politics and its wider context of democracy promised but hardly delivered. In the word of former Vice President in the early years of the Fourth Republic, Atiku Abubakar (2005:8): Nigeria has experienced decades of military and authoritarian rule which has left deep imprints in our political culture. Consequently, our political elite have become used to centralisation, concentration and personalisation of political power, the central defining elements of modern despotism. The consolidation of democracy, however, requires the institutionalisation of political power in which due process and rules and regulations replace the exercise of personal power.
The rest of this chapter details the extent to which the Nigerian Fourth Republic, as well as much of the period before it, has been one of dashed hopes in terms of the country’s declared commitment to party politics supportive of substantive democracy. The next section outlines the background to the Fourth Republic, followed by the main section that details the travails of party politics and democracy in the Fourth Republic. The last section concludes the chapter.
134 Adigun Agbaje
Background to the Fourth Republic The background to the party system and its attendant party politics in the contemporary Nigerian terrain dates as far back as the colonial era. From that period until 1999, literally spanning a century, I have suggested elsewhere (Agbaje 1997, 2010; Agbaje 2010: 70–73; also, Katsina 2013; Sklar 1963; Dudley 1968; Graf 1979), that Nigeria witnessed four stages in the development (or is it underdevelopment) of its party politics and system. In this section, I offer below the highlights of the four stages, viz: 1 The phase of cautious engagement between the educated local elite and the colonial state (up to 1921–1922); 2 The phase of limited franchise and emergence of restricted electoral process (1923–1947); 3 Emergence of mass-based parties (1954–1966); and 4 The phase of interrupted party development through alternation of military and civil rule.
Cautious engagement between the local educated elite and the colonial state (up to 1921–1922) Key figures in this phase from the late nineteenth century were a small group of Africans educated abroad, ex-slaves who had experienced some form of British and American life but not necessarily of Nigerian origin only, since the group also included other West Africans previously taken into slavery but now resettled in Nigeria upon being freed. The group was concentrated mainly around Lagos and environs and was largely discriminated against and excluded from the upper echelon of the colonial bureaucracy. Understandably, the group organized into platforms and associations to fight such discrimination and to also address local issues of housing, education, water, colonial insensitivities to local customary practices, maladministration, land matters, and tax – to the extent that, by the late nineteenth century, Lagos was already showing signs that it would soon emerge, as it did from the second decade of the twentieth century, as the centre of politics and of opposition to colonial rule. Nonetheless, it is to be noted that the kind of politics being played in this first stage was inclusive in the sense that it embraced ex-slave returnees from other African countries who settled in Lagos, as well as other citizens of the British Commonwealth resident in Nigeria, although it was exclusionary in the sense that it was dominated by the local educated elite.
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 135
Limited franchise and emergence of restricted electoral process (1923–1947) It was during this period that the first set of political parties were formed largely in Lagos, the first being the Nigerian National Democratic Party (NNDP) formed in 1923 following the Clifford Constitution that introduced the elective principle and limited franchise to Lagos and Calabar in 1922. This Constitution introduced property-based franchise for residents of Lagos and Calabar and other citizens of the British Commonwealth also resident in Lagos and Calabar, for elections (three seats for Lagos and one for Calabar) into the largely advisory Legislative Council otherwise dominated by appointed colonial officials. Another key party of the period was the National Youth Movement (NYM), which was more elitist than the NNDP, and focused on fighting colonial policy on overseas scholarships for Nigerians. The NNDP changed its name to the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC), then later in the 1960s, following the excision of the Southern Cameroons from Nigeria, becoming known as the National Council of Nigerian Citizens. What were the tendencies in this period? Generally speaking, the parties were urban-based, largely elite-centred, organized around key individuals, did not follow the contours of ethnicity and religion in membership and party activities and campaigns but even admitted members of the British Commonwealth resident in Lagos and Calabar into their fold insofar as they met property qualifications to vote and be voted for. Given that membership of the Legislative Council was restricted to the educated elite and attracted neither stipends nor power, campaigns then were generally genteel.
Emergence of mass-based parties (1951–1966) A major influence on the rise, nature and activities of the parties of this period, including the more dominant Action Group (AG), NCNC, and the Northern People’s Congress (NPC) was colonial policy which now pledged to granting independence to Nigeria and also initiated a more liberal and nation-wide definition of the franchise while also granting more political, legislative, and executive powers and perquisites of office to the local elite elected. As a result, a more adversarial party politics emerged, along with more effort by the competing local elite at seeking more mass support either through mass mobilization from above or below using the instruments of the emerging local government system and dominant parties and/or through mass rallies. It was also in this circumstance that a federal system of government was adopted for the soon-to-be-independent colony, thus providing the incentive and context
136 Adigun Agbaje for the strengthening of ethno-regional politics that limited the incentives and aspirations of the emerging parties for genuinely national presence, focus, and outlook. As indicated by Agbaje (1997: 372–373), ‘the dominant parties of this period until the collapse of the First Republic as a result of the military coup of January 1966 were, as a result, largely founded and/or eventually organised around key individuals, and, this time, became associated with particular ethnoregional interests by design or default’. Thus, four key points need to be noted for parties of this period (Sklar 1963; Dudley 1968; Oyediran 1999; Agbaje and Oyediran 1990–91: 34–51). First, the fact that the parties were invariably organized around key personalities who also combined party leadership with widely acclaimed leadership of ethnic or religious or regional and media empires ensured that crises in intra-party and inter-party politics often spilled into civil society and/or assumed an ethnic, religious, or regional tone. Second, party membership, often with ethno-regional colouration, worked against the emergence of a meaningfully broad-based, cross-cleavage party framework. Third, the more the parties sought to perform the democratic task of pursuing group interests, the more they ran the risk of deepening channels of mobilization and interest aggregation/articulation too narrow to support inclusive democracy.On a positive note, the fourth point relates to the fact that the parties did work to expand the political space for citizen expression and the pursuit of group interests, thanks to the fact that party politics and system of the era did not allow an authoritarian hegemonic party system to emerge, thus ‘making the kind of consensus conducive to the long-term consolidation of authoritarianism difficult to achieve’ (Agbaje 1997: 373). All this provided the background to the collapse of the First Republic in 1966.
Interrupted party development through alternation of military and civil rule (1966–1999) One of the first steps usually taken by incoming military administrations following the coups that successfully terminated the First (15 January 1966) and Second (30 December 1983) Republics, and the disruption of the transition to the Third Republic (27 August 1993) was to ban political parties, throw major politicians into jail or some form of restrictive custody, and announce a new regime of undemocratic rule under the overall control of the military and their appointees. This practice had at least two implications for party politics. First, and obviously, open party politics of the type and along the lines of the pre-military intervention period was no longer feasible. Nonetheless, and
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 137 interestingly, this did not imply that party politics was not going on underground, or that the party loyalties and patterns of interaction in the pre-military era had been effectively disrupted and dissolved. In fact, party loyalties and lines of interaction continued undetected or, better still, unacknowledged by the new regime in power even after the parties were banned. This was perhaps one reason why there was no meaningful disruptions to party politics at the end of each military intervention when ‘new’ parties with new names were announced with fanfare. It was also part explanation for the reason why many of the new parties of the Second (1979–1983) and aborted Third Republics (late 1980s–1993) were in the popular mind considered as clones, or as largely influenced by tendencies earlier associated with the major parties of the period leading to the end of the First Republic mixed with the legacies of military rule, general to all and specific to each experience of military rule. Again, it was not surprising that a major factor in the collapse of the Second Republic was the parties and party politics themselves, including controversies surrounding election results and tendencies towards a one-party state beneficial to the dominant party at the centre: in the core North, the National Party of Nigeria (NPN), often traced to the NPC, to the detriment of the two other major parties, namely, the one in the West, the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN), often traced to the AG of the First Republic, and the one in the East and North East, the Nigeria People’s Party (NPP), whose Eastern wing was traced to the NCNC of the First Republic. A feature common to the General Ibrahim Babangida (1985–1993) and General Sani Abacha (1993–1998) military regimes of this period was the attempt at institutional engineering engaged in by Babangida directly and Abacha indirectly through government establishment and funding of political parties to discourage individuals from hijacking the parties (as was done by Babangida) or through encouragement of new parties all programmed to eventually endorsing General Abacha as joint presidential candidate in a transition programme meant to transform Abacha into a civilian president in the style of the Egyptian precedent. The Babangida experiment produced what is known as the freest and fairest presidential election ever in 1993, but the reluctant military leadership annulled that election, igniting a crisis that led first to an interim government and shortly thereafter, a military coup that brought Abacha to power in November 1993 in the wake of a court decision declaring the military-imposed interim government illegal. The Abacha experiment also ended stillborn, following his sudden death in June 1998. His successor, General Abdulsalami Abubakar, subsequently lifted the ban on party politics and presided over a one-year transition back to democracy that led to the Fourth Republic in 1999.
138 Adigun Agbaje What were the salient points introduced or accentuated by party politics during this period? One, the unbridled role of money in party politics became entrenched. Voters actively sought gratification, while ordinary party members were no longer forthcoming about their financial responsibilities to the party in the form of party dues. Second, military coups robbed party politics of the time and space to mature and put in place the routines, institutionalization, knowledge and experience for the peaceful management of processes within and among parties. In place of all this, militarization encouraged a commandist culture disdainful of intra- and inter- party dissent, and encouraged allegiances to individuals and power blocs within and across parties rather than to the parties themselves. This was reinforced by networks of patronage encouraged by military rule of the era and further built upon by civilian politicians. In addition, military rule initiated the transformation of Nigeria’s largely decentralized federalism of the First Republic to a highly centralized one. The impact of this on the evolving party system and party politics has been to make the two top-heavy and centralized with little regard for the grassroots, with dominant parties at the federal and sub-national levels directing resources towards this process from the governments under their control. The net effect was a neopatrimonial system disdainful of transparency, and with dire consequences for oppositional elements in political and even civil society. Specific experiences under the Babangida and Abacha military regimes, which created, nurtured and manipulated political parties and also sought to manipulate civil society for their own selfish ends, accentuated tendencies from earlier periods to turn institutions of enforcement, regulation, and oversight in political and civil society into willing or unwilling instruments of partisan political warfare, and handmaidens to dominant political interests. Finally, on a positive note, noted student of Nigeria, Larry Diamond, observed of much of the period under review (1966–1979, 1983–1999) that, despite challenges witnessed, there was indeed an incremental broadening of the base of party politics/system from the First to later Republics (Diamond 1995: 432–433, 452–458), with the implication that, if not robbed of time to mature and grow by the military and their unconstitutional disruptions of the political order, political parties could have evolved into more inclusive and democratic entities. The parties contributed to the opening up of the political spaces but were unable to ensure that such spaces were taken up largely by pro-democracy forces, rather than those steeped in the militarized political culture of military rule. Against this background, how in actual fact have parties and party politics fared in the Fourth Republic?
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 139
The Fourth Republic The Republic was inaugurated following local and general elections in which three political parties, namely the Alliance for Democracy (AD), the All People’s Party (APP), later known as the All Nigeria People’s Party (ANPP), and the PDP featured prominently after being registered to contest by the electoral management body. Some points need to be made here in terms of the nature of these major founding parties, their emergence, and the electoral contexts of the early days of the Republic. The parties’ character and emergence reflected historical and contemporary factors, including the role of the state, the overbearing role of the electoral management body, and the politics of the transition to the new Republic. Before the countdown to the Second Republic, organizations seeking to take part in elections as parties were not required to be registered and licensed by the Electoral Commission. It was in the countdown to the Second Republic that registration and licensing provisions were introduced in 1978 and retained for the Third and Fourth Republics. Thus, the Electoral Commission was empowered by Section 15(6) of the Third Schedule of the 1999 Constitution to register political parties, with its Sections 221–222 specifying details of the methods for party formation, funding and accountability procedures, further amplified subsequently by Part IV (Sections 78–105) of the 2006 Electoral Act. Observers considered these conditions to be too stringent, the result being that the first set of parties to be duly registered in the new Republic, and subsequently the major parties of the period, comprised mainly those ‘big’ in terms of membership by very rich Nigerians and characterized by nation-wide networks of party offices, not grassroots presence and connections. The result was that these parties were not formed around common ideologies and interests but tended to reflect networks of ethnic coalitions led by regional barons with strong financial bases.In the words of Lewis (2003: 134): The nebulous party system has little to do with any distinct ideologies, strategies, or sectional appeals. The major parties are relatively diverse in their leadership and constituencies, but remain focused on elite contention and patronage. Ethnicity is still a crucial vehicle for political mobilisation. Personalities and clientelist networks predominate; internal discipline is weak; internecine battles are common. Politics is ‘winnertakes-all’ because public office is still a high road to personal enrichment by dubious means.
As Ibrahim (2006: 7) further noted of this period,
140 Adigun Agbaje The aim or political project of most Nigerian parties has been the development of a national system for sharing out the ‘national cake’ as a system of patronage. This is why the parties are established as a coalition of various factions of regional and economic rent-seekers. Most party leaders see their political party activity as a means to further their business interests.
The background to all this is illuminated from two angles of a materialist perspective by the celebrated Nigerian political economist, the late Claude Ake (1981: 1162–1163, cited in Agbaje and Adejumobi, 2006: 29). On one hand, he identifies ‘the crux of the problem of Nigeria’ as being the ‘overpoliticization of social life’ with ‘premium on political power’ being ‘so high that we are prone to take the most extreme measures to win and to maintain political power’ (Ake 1981: 1162–1163). A complement to this overpoliticization of social life is in his view the limited autonomy for the state, swamped as it is by political and class struggles due to the underdevelopment of productive forces (cited in Agbaje and Adejumobi, 2006: 29): What needs to be kept in view is that limited autonomization means that the African state is extremely weak to perform adequately the essential functions of the state … The state in post-colonial Africa is unable to mediate the struggle between classes and even within classes, particularly the hegemonic class. The net effect of this is that politics, essentially the struggle for control and use of state power, becomes warfare. Power is overvalued and security lies only in getting more and more power. There is hardly any restraint on the means of acquiring power, holding it or using it. Might is coextensive with right.
Further illuminating this issue from the wider terrain of elections, Ninsin (2006: 1–10) points to ‘the contradictions and ironies of elections in Africa’, and argues that (Ninsin 2006: 3) in contrast to the popular meaning of elections as a struggle for liberation from the harsh economic and social conditions which have become their daily experience – a struggle for citizenship – the political class has reduced elections to an intra-class contest to exercise legitimate state power based on the consent of the people expressed through free and fair elections. They have ingeniously developed mechanisms for appropriating it to advance their long-standing project of political and economic domination of the majority.
An attempt to explain continued evidence of paucity and limits of mass identification with such an elite-dominated party regime, no matter how tenuous or tactical (CDD 2003: 3), notes that
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 141 Nigerian citizens value a voice in their own government in and of itself, and that they still see the ballot box as a way to address the huge variety of problems which face them, is a tribute to their patience with a system so loaded against the interests of the powerless.
A former senator of the Federal Republic, Jubril Aminu (reported in Agbaje and Adejumobi 2006: 40), was more blunt in his evaluation, noting that: This business about the ‘man on the street’ … he does not really feature too much in these things, I am very sorry to say … When the man in the street becomes the Centre, then democracy will be assured. Right now, what seems to happen is that so long as the big barons and baronesses can agree at the top, that’s it. This is what matters.
The issue of non-engagement of the masses perhaps needs further clarification. I made a point, at the December 2019 Oxford conference ‘20 years of Democracy in Nigeria’ that gave birth to this volume, that political parties hardly exist at the grassroots beyond the symbolism of party offices literally empty for most of the everyday life of ordinary Nigerians or hosting at best a few low-level paid party staff. Akin Osuntokun, noted media columnist and politician, who was at the conference, responded that parties do exist at the grassroots, and evidence of this is obvious whenever party leaders and programmes are hosted at such levels. That was and remains my point exactly: that party presence at the local level serves essentially to prosecute top-tobottom control of the grassroots, rather than to engage and interact with the grassroots in an inclusive, autonomous manner that fosters at least two-way communication in the interest of all. One redeeming feature of the politics of the period of transition to the Fourth Republic was that the elite, fractious as they were, were able to arrive at cross-party consensus that ensured that the first elected president of the new Republic would come from the Yoruba of the South West of the country, from where the acclaimed winner of the annulled 1993 presidential election, Chief M.K.O. Abiola, had come (see Oyediran 1999: 141–161 for the party and wider politics that led to the annulment and beyond). This was a strategic move to douse ethnic tension arising from the annulment of the election. The downside to this, however, was that the consensus was apparently imposed by a clique, significantly comprising retired senior military officers who had occupied high political office before the Fourth Republic. Subsequently, former military Head of State in the 1970s, General Olusegun Obasanjo, a Yoruba, emerged as the first elected president of the Fourth Republic under the PDP platform. Interestingly, however, Obasanjo did not get electoral endorsement of the
142 Adigun Agbaje Yoruba, who predominantly voted in the 1999 elections for Chief Olu Falae, the presidential candidate of the AD, perceived as a Yoruba party, on grounds that the candidacy of Obasanjo was secured and backed mainly by his retired ex-military colleagues predominantly from the northern part of the country. Another irony of the consensus that led to the Obasanjo presidency was that, rather than diminish ethno-regional sentiments, it actually re-emphasized same and led to key parties of the period being perceived with such lenses. As stated above, just as the AD was perceived essentially as a Yoruba/South Western party, with dominant interests traced to the AG of the First and UPN of the Second Republics, the PDP was seen as being dominated by northern interests. Such a perception did not do adequate justice to the origin of the new parties in elite groups fighting against the perpetuation of military rule in the 1993–1998 period (on this see Agbaje 2010: 77). Another redeeming feature of party politics in the Republic has been the restraining role of the superior courts of record, most especially the Supreme Court. The judiciary (Ukata 2018: 302–318) has helped to stabilize the party political terrain in rulings on such matters as party registration, and election processes and outcomes, and on the wider issues of political significance such as responsibilities, and balance of resources and powers in inter-governmental relations. Of importance to the subject of this chapter is the Supreme Court’s rulings over the years that redefined party recognition and registration in manners that opened up the party political space and enabled new parties to be registered. As a result, the number of parties has grown from three in 1999 to ninety-two in 2020. This has brought up a new set of challenges for the electoral management body and for the electoral process itself. More importantly, the increase in number has not impacted upon the hegemonic hold of a very few parties (three at the beginning of the Republic as indicated above with APP changing its name to ANPP and Alliance for Democracy, AD changing first to Action Congress, AC, and then to Action Congress of Nigeria, ACN, before disappearing into the APC in 2013; and by 2020, of only two – APC and PDP) on party politics and the Nigerian political scene, given that most of the parties substantively exist only on paper and have little or no electoral or administrative/governmental presence at local, state, and federal levels. A key indicator of the persistence of negativity in party politics in the Fourth Republic has been the quality of intra-party and inter-party processes such as lack of internal democracy, tendency to influence party primaries in undemocratic ways, lack of transparency in party finance, and tendency to subvert elections with the controversies that have surrounded their outcomes. Further indicative of these challenges has been the apparently poor performance of relevant regulatory institutions in this regard, including the electoral
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 143 management body and such security institutions as the police, which have tended to be tarred by accusations of not being able to rise above partisan divides of the moment, while serving the interests of ruling parties. In the context of what has been stated in regard of the nature of the wider framework of politicking, it would have been surprising if the Fourth Republic had witnessed a significant break from the pathologies of the past in this regard. The lack of internal party democracy and transparency has been highlighted above. It is widely acknowledged in academic and popular platforms and among politicians themselves. The internal dynamics have been very well covered by the literature and need not detain us here (cf. Simbine, n.d.: 1–16; Yagboyaju and Simbine 2020: 33–50). As former Vice President Atiku, who himself was literally hounded out of the PDP by President Obasanjo partly over intra-party contestations, observed (Agbaje and Adejumobi 2006: 36): An essential element in promoting free and fair elections in the country is the free and fair conduct of party nominations. Most elections are ‘rigged’ before they occur because candidates are eliminated through various methods. These include subverting party constitution and rules, the use of thugs, corrupting party officials to disqualify, or annul the nomination of some candidates and other illegal methods of distorting the wishes of the electorate
The Economic Commission for Africa (ECA 2005: 42–43), in an important assessment on abuse of power by incumbents and lack of transparency in the two sources of party financing (public and private) in Nigeria and much of Africa, notes that, although relevant laws guarantee annual grants to parties through the electoral management body ‘on a fair and equitable basis in order to assist the parties in discharging their functions’ and provide for regular auditing and monitoring of parties’ accounts by the same electoral management body, a provision that suffers from weak enforcement, an additional [c]ommon practice is for the ruling party to take undue advantage of state resources and deploy them for its private political ends during political campaigns and elections. Using government vehicles, diverting public funds to the political party and awarding contracts to party members are unhealthy political practices that do not encourage a level playing field among political parties and undermine the fair competition among political actors and organisations in a democracy.
This environment provided a fertile base for strife to thrive at both intra-party and inter-party levels. A significant indicator of this state of affairs has been the high turnover of party chairpersons at national, state, and local levels, especially in the ruling and key opposition parties. A commentary on the
144 Adigun Agbaje PDP, then the ruling party, but which applies to all the dominant parties in the Fourth Republic at national and sub-national levels, and equally too to the APC, ruling party at the national level since 2015, is to the effect that (Obi, in Agbaje 2010: 81): In the PDP of today, all known rules of democracy have been thwarted. The party does not care a hoot about the processes of election or selection … In the party, it is not the people that make choice; it is the few who have seized the instruments of power that impose their will on the people. If democracy is to throw open the polity for mass participation in political affairs, the PDP has shrunk the political space, thus making democracy look like a closed shop. The sins of PDP against democracy are legion.
It is not surprising that the results and quality of general elections, especially those dealing with the offices of the President of the Federal Republic and state governors, have been contested and condemned not only by the opposition but often by local and international observer groups and commentators (cf. CDD 2003; EUEOM 2007; Human Rights Watch 2004, 2007; IRI 2007; TMG 1999, 2000, 2003, 2007; ECOWAS 2007; ICG 2007). Most notorious in this regard were the 2003 and 2007 presidential election outcomes. Even the election management body, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), which has been more on the receiving end of protests in this regard, also weighed in in regard of complaints of its own in the 2007 election. In its report (INEC 2007: 91) it observed, ‘much to its dismay’, that Nigeria’s political parties lacked basic liberal and internal mechanisms, that could sustain a vibrant and fast-growing democratic culture … leaders of the parties chose to run them as though they were closed shops, with no respect for their parties’ constitutions on election of party leadership and selection of candidates for the elections … the political parties exhibited disdain for rules and regulations that governed the process of nomination.
The enforcement and regulatory framework for party politics and elections in the Republic has been weak (cf. Oni, et al. 2017: 39–73), with calls for reforms of such institutions as the Electoral Commission, the Police, and other security agencies. For now, such institutions are too close institutionally to the party that controls the Federal Government. In fact, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua who emerged as the President after the 2007 election quickly moved to set up the Electoral Reform Committee under former Chief Justice Muhammed Uwais. The report of that committee contained wide-ranging recommendations to fully secure the autonomy of the Electoral Commission and place it on better footing for the performance of its functions, along with new institutions to take up some of the existing functions of the Commission (LeVan and Ajibola 2018: 336–350; Orji 2018: 319–335). More than ten years
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 145 after the report was submitted, the recommendations are still awaiting action. One consequence of the dominance of the party terrain by a few parties is a situation in which the political terrain has been ‘hostile to marginalised parties and interests’ in Nigeria’s putative federal framework. As has been noted (Agbaje 2010: 81): In a virtually uniform manner, the parties in control of government at all levels (local, state, and federal) tend to perceive opposition expressed through other parties or other platforms as the antics of mortal enemies. These parties … are uniformly impatient and intolerant of opposition. The net effect is that the parties are generally so entrenched in their sphere of dominance that it is usually the exception (and such exceptions have indeed been recorded, thanks largely to the vigilance of the electorate or occasionally to superior capacity to rig arising from connections with federal power) rather than the rule for an incumbent party to be voted out of, especially executive, office at the local, state or federal levels of government.
The story of the PDP, dominant over the 16-year period 1999–2015 (Agbaje, et al. 2007: 79–97; Katsina 2016; Agbaje, et al. 2018: 351–365), symbolises the restrictive and hegemonic nature and the pitfalls of the party politics and system of the Fourth Republic. The PDP was, from 1999 until 2015, the dominant and ruling party in the Federal Republic, having won the first four general elections, placing it in control of of the Federal Government and a majority of state and local governments and having dominance of the National Assembly throughout that period. By 2003, politicians from other parties started trooping into the PDP before the elections of that year. It continued to grow in strength, ‘not necessarily for the quality of its performance in governance but more for the mastery of exploitation of the greed of politicians from within and outside the party’ (Agbaje, et al. 2018: 351). It became a huge machine for the dispensation of patronage and, in the words of one of its former National Chairman, ‘a winning machine where we win elections without winning the hearts of the people’ (Agbaje, et al. 2018: 352). This was how the party maintained its dominance in the elections between 1999 and 2011 before it lost the 2015 elections to the APC, the recently formed coalition (see Ibrahim and Hassan 2014) of the more notable opposition parties formed in 2013. This story of dominance in a context of de-institutionalization signposted by abuse of the power of incumbency, manipulation of the electoral system, and intimidation of the electorate and opposition rested on the increasing erosion of the precepts and institutions of democracy, and the story’s comparative echo is noted by Greene (2010: 807–808) to the effect that
146 Adigun Agbaje [w]hen incumbents can access and use public resources for partisan gain, they benefit from a virtually bottomless campaign war chest and create quasi-permanent resource asymmetries between insiders and outsiders. Incumbents can access public funds when the public bureaucracy is politically controlled through non-merit-based hiring, firing, and career advancement, which makes bureaucrats less likely to act as gatekeepers or whistle-blowers. Incumbents can use public funds for partisan advantage where campaign finance laws do not exist or cannot be enforced because the incumbent controls the electoral authority.
While the PDP was the most guilty of this practice since it was the dominant party, all the other parties in control of governments at the sub-national level were also involved in such practices. It was, therefore, not surprising that the PDP could not win the 2015 presidential and majority of other elections in 2015 – as it had done up to 2011 – when faced with the combined powers of opposition parties, namely, the ACN, ANPP, a faction of the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) and the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC), that formed the APC in 2013. In addition, the party paid the price for its long domination of the political terrain by being blamed by the political opposition and citizens alike for widespread failure and challenges at the economic, social, political governance, and institutional levels, as well as the mounting insecurity occasioned in the party by the Boko Haram insurgency in the North East and the mounting profile of corruption and culture of impunity. The CPC was the platform under which General Muhammadu Buhari contested and lost the 2011 elections, having ran for the same office under the platform of the APP in 2003 and ANPP in 2007. To be sure, the fortunes of the PDP were largely linked to the two-term presidency of Obasanjo between 1999 and 2007, and it did not help the party that the next two presidents (Umaru Musa Yar’Adua and Goodluck Jonathan) were perceived as weak, while the tail end of the Obasanjo presidency itself was tarnished by an attempt to secure a constitutional amendment to enable him run for an unconstitutional third term, a plot shot down by a broad coalition of bipartisan political interests and civil society and pro-democracy groups. The manner in which ailing Yar’Adua was succeeded following his death in 2010 by Jonathan and formalized by the 2011 election also led to political backlash for the PDP in much of northern Nigeria. An informal understanding within the PDP seemed to have suggested that Yar’Adua (and/or the North) would retain the presidency in the two-term period 2007–2015. With Yar’Adua’s death in the first term, it was expected by northerners that the PDP would still offer its presidential ticket for the 2011 election to a northerner. The emergence of Jonathan, Vice President to Yar’Adua, as PDP’s presidential candidate in
Party Politics and the Travails of Democracy in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 147 2011 as well as in 2015, led to widespread disenchantment with the PDP in the North, compounded by general disenchantment with the party’s poor governance record. The APC has subsequently replaced the PDP as the dominant party in the Fourth Republic, moving on to win the 2019 elections and emerging at the end of the 2023 elections in February and March as the winner and dominant party in the presidential, National Assembly, and governorship elections. Although the 2023 election results remain the subject of litigation as at April 2023, the APC’s winning records are untimately not likely to be significantly affected in a negative manner by this. The APC invariably shows very little difference from the record of the PDP in office, except in name and party symbol, and definitely not in positive transformations and developments in governance, democracy, rule of law, corruption, infrastructure, human rights, and security, among others. The APC’s inability to transform its earlier hardearned victory into deliverables for the benefit of Nigeria and Nigerians in those areas in which the PDP failed is as surprising as the party’s failure to move to provide leadership for the much needed elevation of party politics and strategic thinking in favour of the institutionalization and consolidation of democracy in Nigeria. Subsequent elections at the sub-national level since 2019 underscore the opportunities created for progress and challenges that persist in the political terrain. The bold initiatives of INEC in the introduction and use of new technologies have made it more difficult to rig elections and easier to conduct more transparent elections. The persistence of electoral violence and the influences of incumbency, money, and powerful ‘godfathers’ continue to put a question mark on the drive to sanitize party and electoral politics. The emergence of new party leaderships from the 1990s offer new opportunities for a better context in which to play politics, but the reality is that such new leaderships have either not shown significantly better ways of politicking in terms of the values and behaviour of the old order, or enough autonomy from that old order, or their emergence has not been in a number large enough to transform the political order for the better
Conclusion The main argument of this chapter has been that, after twenty-two years of unbroken party politics in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic, it is obvious that the nature and poor quality of party politics inherited from the largely undemocratic past of colonial and post-colonial military rule and interspersed by
148 Adigun Agbaje periods of civilian rule in previous Republics – noted also for promises of democracy unrequited in the context of the arrested development or truncation of effort – has not changed for the better. Therefore, the search for both the problems of and solutions to the troubled nature of party politics in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic lie outside of the number of years during which the Republic has survived, escaping the fate of the hangman’s noose in the form of unconstitutional overthrow that befell previous Republics following persistent recording of virtually the same untoward tendencies of undermining democracy, development, and peace. To be sure, the Fourth Republic itself has not witnessed much of the substance of democracy in its ethos, practices, and institutional arrangements, and therein lies its tendency to substitute the appearances of democracy for the substance of it and, in addition, use appearances or elements of form to frustrate a meaningful march towards substantive democracy despite the opportunities offered for such by the widening political spaces for the pursuit of the contents of democracy. In all this context, therefore, as indicated in the opening paragraphs of this chapter, the largely undemocratic nature of party politics in the Republic is both cause and effect of the largely undemocratic nature of the wider politics of the Republic. Designing the required framework of values, practices, constitutional and legal arrangements, sustainable rules, elite and non-elite behaviour, and institutions for pro-democratic party politics thus has to be done simultaneously with the pursuit of the required transformation of the wider political and social terrain to purge it of its accretions of undemocratic tendencies, structures, institutions, processes, values, actors, and agencies that stretch back to the early days of the twentieth century. A reform agenda carefully put in place and vigorously pursued would be a major way to go in this regard. From all indications, however, such a reform agenda must move beyond legislation and a new arrangement of offices to include fundamental change in values among all those involved in party and electoral politics in Nigeria – the elite in the parties, governments, the electoral management bodies, security and other regulatory bodies, and the mass of the people.
6 Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic SA’EED HUSAINI
Some people just vote, but it’s better to belong to a party where you can contribute more. And through that, you can help and also be helped. (Ago Aduloju, 2016, PDP Loyalist, Ado-Ekiti)
Introduction Scholarly interest in the internal workings of African political parties has recently bloomed. This scholarship focuses on understanding how party’s strategies and organizational forms affect important democratic qualities, such as accountability, participation, and representation. In particular, most of these studies focus on assessing the relative effectiveness of various campaign strategies, or forms of ‘party voter linkage’ (Kitschelt 2000), to mobilize voters (Cheeseman and Hinfelaar 2009; Bleck and van de Walle 2013; Elischer 2013; Resnick 2013; Weghorst and Lindberg 2013; Kuenzi and Lambright 2015). This literature has also turned to the wider issue of party organization. It has shed light on how decisions taken by party elite in the face of longer running structural factors affect party strength (Arriola 2012; LeBas 2013) and on how the internal organizations of parties affect important political outcomes, such as the selection of candidates and party leaders or parties’ choices of public policies (Darracq 2008; Giollabhuí 2013; Ichino and Nathan 2016; Osei 2016). While these studies shed light on what parties do, these institutionalist perspectives rarely examine why individuals choose to participate in party activism – perhaps the most intense form of voluntary political participation available to citizens (Whiteley and Seyd 2002). The few studies that do examine political motivations often resort to some account of clientelism
150 Sa’eed Husaini (Ichino 2006; Bob-Milliar 2012). These studies focus on the ‘demand side’ of political relations – what participants appear to seek from parties. Yet, in practice, very few activists reap the benefits of patronage in these strapped new democracies (van de Walle 2007). Considering the broader ‘supply side’ of what parties actually provide to party members, instead, sheds more light on the motivations for active party membership, particularly sustained activism, in contexts where patronage resources are scarce. This chapter weighs into these debates by considering Nigerian party loyalists who participate in party activities at the low points of the electoral cycle in the Fourth Republic. During campaigns and elections, most activists and frequent attendees at party meetings can expect small rewards, such as bars of soap, beer, or a bag of rice, a norm between candidates and their campaigners (Bratton 2008). But why do some party activists continue to participate during the long lull between campaigns, when no such gifts are in the offing? Appreciating the loyalists’ participation in this phase can clarify what drives party associationalism beyond the episodic drama of elections. In presenting data gathered from the constituency building phase, the period that begins a new electoral cycle, the chapter follows the electoral calendar’s structure and considers why citizens might become highly active party members – or party loyalists – in the first place. I adopt a ‘supply and demand’ framework to demonstrate that, even from a rational-choice perspective, the ‘rewards’ that party loyalists receive through their participation far exceeds the analytical category of political patronage.1 Drawing on interviews and observations gathered at weekly ward congress meetings and monthly Local Government Area (LGA) meetings of both the All Progressives Congress (APC) and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) in two separate constituencies in northern and southern Nigeria, I advance three related responses to the central question. I argue that local participation offers party loyalists formal and informal rewards, even in the electoral off season. Informal and associational benefits range from building social capital and gaining forms of political education to participation in forms of political spectacle. Formal benefits include the right to influence party decisions, seek coveted leadership positions as a delegate or a party executive committee (‘ExCo’) member, or run for elected office. I also argue that loyalists fully understand the scarcity Fieldwork was conducted in Ado-Ekiti and Zaria between September 2016 and April 2017 as part of my doctoral dissertation on grassroots party structures in both locations. These locations were purposely selected to assess how differing cultural contexts within Nigeria might condition forms of local political participation. I am grateful for the support received from Oxford University’s African Studies Centre and Department for International Development that made this possible. 1
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 151 of the most coveted rewards the party can offer. Remaining active in the lull creates access to these rewards. Finally, I point out that, while not completely meritocratic, the goods a loyalist can access are determined by the quality and length of his participation in the local branch – indeed this reward structure advantages older, more educated male loyalists and disadvantages women and youth, weakening the representational function of party democracy. Despite variations in cultural contexts and prevailing political alignments, these factors held constant in both constituencies. These findings underscore the influence of a shared national organizational rubric of constituency building among Nigeria’s two main political parties. Ultimately, the diversity of political ‘goods’ that parties supply exceeds the frequently deployed but rarely specified category of ‘patronage’. The remainder of the chapter is divided into three sections. I situate the analysis in broader debates about what factors motivate membership in African political parties. I then present testimonies and observations from Ado-Ekiti and Zaria LGAs to illustrate the plurality of rewards which local party activism provides. Finally, I discuss reward allocation and highlight the patterns of inclusion and exclusion that result from it.
Party Activism in African Democracies The scholarship on Africa’s contemporary multi-party democracies pay scant attention to what motivates citizens to become active party members.2 A partial explanation for this lacuna might lie in the accessibility of data. Collecting data on elections, both episodic and highly visible events, is easier than gathering data on party activism and meeting attendance, a more continuous and mundane phenomenon. Erdmann (2007: 34–35) provides both a more compelling explanation for – and demonstration of – this neglect. In his view, scholars use a ‘mass membership party model’ that reflects an idealized, twentieth-century (and often leftist) European party to analyse African parties. Scholars calibrated to find the qualities of European mass parties – characterized by ideological counter-mobilization, and large population of organized, and influential members – have typically viewed African parties as immature and undeserving of detailed examination. Ironically, Erdmann nevertheless compares African parties with the mass party model and, critically, eschews empirical verification of such a comparison. Noting the ‘typical characteristics’ of African parties, he observes that: ‘there is either no formal membership In contrast, how parties influence voting, a comparatively less intense form of political participation (see Whiteley and Seyd 2002), has been the subject of sustained interest. 2
152 Sa’eed Husaini or in many cases multi-memberships (card-holding of several parties), thus “membership” is weak apart from a small group of staunch party cadres’ (ibid.: 36). This endemic ‘western European bias’ found even in its critics, must partially account for the general neglect of party activism and everyday party association in African democracies. More recent scholarship examining the internal workings of African political parties beyond idealized comparisons and generalized dismissals proves more useful (Darracq 2008; Bob-Milliar 2012; Ichino & Nathan 2016; Osei 2016). Within this fold, Nahomi Ichino (2006) and George Bob-Milliar (2012) offer tentative suggestions for why citizens in African democracies might actively participate in political parties. Bob-Milliar (2012), focusing on Ghana’s two governing political parties, deals most directly with the motivations that activate loyalists. He argues that, although Ghanaian ‘foot-soldiers’ may join specific parties due to ‘political traditions and ideological leanings, programmes of parties and socio-cultural norms’ (ibid.: 683), these activists remain active because they expect to receive patronage. ‘Fundamentally’, Bob-Milliar argues (ibid.: 680) ‘selective incentives are at the heart of party activism in Ghana’. He also makes an interesting and perhaps contradictory observation. Ghanaian foot-soldiers often complain that political leaders frequently ‘neglect’ their patronage demands, observing that ‘the NDC [National Democratic Congress] and NPP [Nigeria People’s Party] as mass organizations are in many instances unable to provide selective incentives for their hordes of activists’ (ibid.: 677). Yet a question remains: why do these ‘neglected’ foot-soldiers still remain active within their parties? Even if we accept that activists might join parties because of an expectation of ‘selective incentives’, it is not clear why they might remain active after such demands are ‘neglected’. Focusing on a relevant if slightly different cast of characters, Ichino (2006: 17) attempts to address this lacuna by examining why local Nigerian politicians sometimes opt to mobilize ‘thugs’ over ‘voters’. She posits that local politicians in some Nigerian states, many who will never attain their desired patronage positions, might remain highly active within the party to gain followers. These followers are useful in bargaining for lesser benefits from party leaders after an election. Crucially, this argument suggests that the awareness of the limited opportunities for patronage positions might prompt local political activists to aim lower, moderating their patronage demands. Both Bob-Milliar and Ichino’s observations accord with van de Walle’s (2007) important, if under-acknowledged, contention. The severe fiscal constraints of many new democracies, particularly those in Africa, make patronage resources scarce. As he fairly intuitively argues (ibid.: 4), ‘patronage is more likely in rich states overseeing substantial and diversified economies, which are more likely
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 153 to be able to afford a large and expensive state’. Since most patronage demands go unmet, activists’ demands for patronage cannot fully explain their sustained political participation.3 This explanatory gap can be addressed through a more systematic assessment of the broader supply of ‘rewards’ that parties provide to activists. To shed light on this ‘supply side’, the following section assesses the allure of local party loyalty during the lull of electoral constituency building in two constituencies in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic.
The Supply of Party Rewards The most basic reward for party activism in local contexts in Nigeria is, in a sense, hidden in plain sight: political spectacle. Yet this theatrical aspect of political party gatherings is easily overlooked given both its ubiquity and assumed instrumentality. Highlighting only one of the most recognizable forms of such a spectacle, Lisa Gilman (2011: 11), in a fascinating study on the uses of dancing in Malawian politics, observes that ‘the performative presence of women wearing fabric decorated with party or state symbols who liven up political occasions by dancing and singing songs that promote politicians and political bodies is common across the African continent’. As she also rightly points out (ibid.: 23), political dance ‘serves the purposes of political power wielders in its capacity to attract people, disseminate messages, display symbols, and reinforce hierarchies’. Besides these implicit political purposes, political dance, as well as the array of other more-or-less striking forms of political performance, are also meant as entertainment. This feature needs to be seen as an end in its own right. The theatrics of local political gatherings take many forms. The gatherings I attended included everything from the hammer wielding Sango worshipper eating shards of glass in front of a cheering audience at an LGA rally in Ado-Ekiti (Figure 6.1) to the more subtle turns of rhetorical flourish that interspersed routine administrative updates amid ward meetings in Zaria. More choreographed performances, such as the former, were rarer. The drama of weekly ward meetings was typically limited to impassioned speeches where party leaders verbally jousted, or party members displayed creative uses of local Ichino’s observation regarding bargaining only partially resolves this problem. Ultimately, the political positions which savvy local politicians might successfully access are also extremely limited, meaning that even this level of reward is not immune to the problem of scarcity. As she ultimately (2006: 8) hints, ‘it is more likely that what determines present patterns of clientelism is the management of its supply, rather than demand that is unlikely to be satisfied’. 3
154 Sa’eed Husaini proverbs to the delight of cheering audiences. The monthly LGA meetings were more likely to feature hired performers that ranged from male and female dance troupes to fire eaters, mythical figures from Yoruba folklore in Ado-Ekiti to the mainly male drummers, singers, and acrobats in Zaria. Across parties and regions, electoral wards organized LGA rallies and each ward took a turn hosting. The event’s style and quality varied according to each ward’s ExCos’ level of commitment. The most elaborate LGA meeting I witnessed, the one that featured the glass eating Sango worshipper, was organized on 7 November 2016 by APC ward 9 in Ado-Ekiti. As I observe in a field-note entry made later that day: ward 9 Chairman, who says he was an actor in a past life, put on quite a show. Probably about 350 attendees from all the wards, so lots of familiar faces. All wards sent members, each group in a different uniform which made the event all the more colorful … There were rented canopies; loud speakers; catering (substandard jollof); musicians; fire-eaters; and, the guy who walks across a fire-pit, smashes a green bottle on the table, picks up a handful of the glass (while Funsho and I are thinking no way he’s going to do it) and then, of course, tosses it all in his mouth and appears to chew and swallow … The crowd was ecstatic. Maybe they were sugar crystals? It looked very glass-y. Couldn’t have been a very satisfying meal.
Figure 6.1. Members of the All Progressives Congress at a meeting of the party in Kaduna in 2021. (Photo courtesy of Kaduna State Government APC).
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 155 The political value of such events was apparent. The local party used these events to attract new members and affirm its presence and relevance in the community. Party leaders, who usually sat in front of the crowd on a ‘high table’ or at some other position of prominence, used these events to reinforce hierarchies and inspire floor members for upcoming election campaigns. Members used these events to display their commitment to the party and loyalty to its leaders. In this way, LGA constituency rallies mirrored the general format of the less elaborate ward meetings, in which party communiques were passed across by local ExCos, who chaired meetings from the front of the room, while members listened, applauded, and debated. The drama of these events also underscores that local participation provides a supply of entertainment, a reward not lost on party loyalists. As an APC loyalist in Zaria, reflecting on ward meetings, further elaborated: We are active [at the ward] because we get to see our leaders. You get to hear what is going on. You can also tell others what you think. But our people are very funny here … If they want to say something about politics, they will say it in a funny way so that everyone will laugh or sometimes they speak very seriously … Some people are intelligent, other people will fumble. You will see youths will be shouting; then a women leader may say ‘sit down and keep quiet, for God’s sake’. So, you can see it, for yourself it is like watching a film, wanlahi [‘by God’, i.e. ‘truthfully’]. ( Jibrin Shehu 2017, int.)
This view was more widely affirmed in comments I frequently received from loyalists in both Zaria and Ado-Ekiti who, when asked why they stayed active at the ward level, often responded saying, ‘I do politics for the love of it’ or ‘politics is a hobby’. What these vignettes illustrate is that political spectacle is, in itself, a meaningful reward of local party activism. It is also a democratic reward – perhaps the most democratic of rewards for party activism – insofar as its supply is not denied to any participant who arrives at a local party gathering, even if that be a visiting researcher. Local party activism also educates and includes activists into the political conversations. ‘[Getting] to hear what is going on’, cited in the testimony quoted above, exemplifies this reward. This sentiment was also expressed more explicitly by several party members, including a Zaria APC loyalist, who wished to be identified as Adamu Electronics (2017, int.) and who observed: ‘If you are not a member or you do not attend [meetings] regularly, you will be clueless. Nobody will explain information to you, to tell you the way it is from up [the leadership]. So, you will only be following bad rumours on WhatsApp. You will be ignorant!’
156 Sa’eed Husaini The quantitative data backs this up. Respondents who claimed to work for a party or candidate in the most recent Afrobarometer survey in Nigeria were twice as likely to respond that they frequently discussed politics (see Figure 6.2). More substantially, the link between discussion and awareness was also easily observed at the ward meetings I either attended or heard about. As Danladi Jama’a, the APC Chairman of Dutsen Abba ward in Zaria observed: When we have any information even from the state or national [party], we will call our members together so that we can inform them. We don’t hide anything from them … Of course, if there is something to share, we call them to share it. Even if there is [a] problem in the party. It is better to discuss among ourselves and answer any question[s] our people have. It is better so that they can also uphold the name of our party in the community. (2017, int.)
My observations at meetings corroborated this perspective. These meetings prioritized sharing relevant information from federal-, state-, or LGA-level party leadership. Consider the weekly meetings in Ado-Ekiti. After the minutes of the previous meeting were read, the first item on the agenda was frequently an update and open discussion about recent happenings in the country or in
Figure 6.2. Frequency of political discussion with neighbours among respondents who did or did not work for a candidate or political party in the previous national election. Afrobarometer R7 (2016/2018).
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 157 the local party. In fact, it was in conversation with party loyalists that I often first learned of important rumours or ‘gossip’.4 This information ranged from disagreements between party leaders through factions developing within the national party to government policies at the state or local level. Much of this information was only later covered in national or local news. For instance, the Kaduna State Government’s plan to ban okada motorcycle taxis was being debated and considered at Zaria’s wards months before the ban was officially announced (Opejobi, 2017). Similarly, I often found that loyalists were the most informed about local development projects. For instance, clarifying – in the same interview cited above – why workers had stopped showing up to complete a drainage construction project that was ongoing at the time of my fieldwork in Zaria, Danladi Jama’a explained: Like this issue of culvert. If you go round town now, you will see that the work has stopped. So, our people [members] are coming to me to ask me what happened that the work has stopped. I was able to meet our House of Assembly member and fortunately he is on the House Committee on Works and Housing, so I made the inquiry from him why the work is not going on now. He told me that at the 2017 budget, 600 million was earmarked for the work. But when the award [was given] to contractors they already exceeded such amount, they have awarded a contract of about 2 billion. So government has to stop the work to make valuation to see how they can source the funds to settle them. And at this level, if they tell them to abandon the project, there will be many complaints because already they have made the digging. In some area its just the trench [that has been dug]. So that’s what they said they should wait to evaluate all the work that has been giving. So they [members] are coming to me but at times I also used to go to them to tell them what is happening. My work is to serve as a link between the people of the ward and the elected government officials.
These observations underscore a crucial aspect of grassroots party activism, namely, communication between governments and citizens. More broadly, they also illustrate the educative value of party activism, which, conditioned by the extent of one’s participation, is also available to most local party activists. Local party activism also generates social capital. Active and visible party loyalists could draw on communal resources in several important ways. On the most basic level, the recognition of belonging itself is the reward. Bose Adelokin (2016, int.), a PDP loyalist in Ado-Ekiti and a ten-year veteran of Even when such information contained aspects that were not true or factual, it nonetheless served the purpose of making both national and local political and governance issues more legible to ordinary, often uneducated citizens. 4
158 Sa’eed Husaini her ward, communicated this associational value in following way: ‘I love this party and I love to participate because we are very close. We are one family. My children are not here anymore because they have left to work in Lagos. That is why I say that the youths here [in the ward] they are my children.’ This perspective was also echoed on numerous occasions in Zaria where, for instance, Umar Ishak Dikko (2017, int.), a PDP member, observed that ‘our members are people you can laugh with, people you can play with. There is a lot of love among us … Some of us, it is like we are brothers.’ To borrow Putnam’s (2001) classic metaphor for social capital, if culturally out-of-place, loyalists are not ‘bowling alone’. In times of need, well-known ward members could also expect support from other loyalists in forms ranging from the associational to the financial. To name but a few examples, the former includes attendance at funerals and birthdays and the latter includes contributions towards hospital bills and school fees. As Ado-Ekiti APC loyalist Olumide (2016, int.) observed: I have something doing [formal employment] so it means I can be helpful to some of my members, even those older than me. They say there is no joy in eating alone. I can offer something small that can be of aid to people. When it’s my own time, other members will also be of aid to me.
In contrast to the scholarly focus on vertical, patron-client ties, these ‘horizontal’ ties of mutual support were more ubiquitous. Loyalists more frequently interacted among their peers and only infrequently interacted with party leaders and patrons. This observation accords with Pratten’s (2013: 255) conclusion that, in the Nigerian context, ‘social relationships and the practice of being ‘social’ (burials, meals, marriages), most notably political distribution, are also investments in forms of insurance and protection and of forming relationships with people on whom one may rely’. Membership provides support amid life’s vicissitudes. Party activism can also provide social capital beyond the party. Numerous party members celebrated their increased status among neighbours and friends who, in the words of Ado-Ekiti APC loyalist, Olumide (2016, int.), ‘see me as somebody who knows what I am talking about when it comes to politics’. This social recognition, of being ‘seen’ by neighbours, was often easy to observe directly: during interviews and ethnographic hangouts in public areas, loyalists were frequently recognized and loudly ‘hailed’, either by name or by honorific nicknames such as ‘honourable!’ or ‘mai-gida [Hausa for head of the household]!’ by a passerby from the community.5 ‘When the youth see you, they will praise However, such ‘hailing’ in the Nigerian context often contains a thinly masked layer of irony, wherein terms like ‘honourable’ are actually intended to mock local political 5
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 159 you. Even though you are a young person’, answered Zaria PDP member Umar Ishak Dikko (2017, int.) when asked about the hailing he received from a passerby. He continued, ‘they will want to associate with you and listen to you’. As Ado-Ekiti PDP loyalist, Azeez Olaseni Awolabi (2016, int.), similarly observed: ‘People in my community see me as a leader. If they have disputes, sometimes they will come to me to resolve. That is why I have my phone on 24/7.’ Aishatu Ibrahim (2017, int.), an APC loyalist in Zaria, expressed a longer-term view on this same dynamic, observing that: ‘When you are active and you are good, in the future, when people see your children they will know who they are. You never know tomorrow … Your children can be something because of you.’ These accounts reveal how party activism can bolster both the activist and activist’s family’s present and future social capital. Political influence is another reward for local party activism. The extent and modes of such influence vary across the key moments of the electoral cycle – the primary process, election campaigns, and election’s aftermath. The constituency building phase of the electoral cycle presents party loyalists with various means of exercising political influence. Consider Ado-Ekiti PDP loyalist Azeez Olaseni Awolabi’s recounting of his ward Chairmanship election (2016, int.): Shortly after I started to attend meetings eight years ago, I was under pressure from members of my ward because they saw me as somebody who is committed, somebody who is sound academically and otherwise. They went to the [former] deputy governor to ask for support for my chairmanship … Because the deputy governor was my colleague from school and I really campaigned for him, so they knew he would listen. They thought that with his influence, I would definitely emerge. Initially, I turned it down … But at a stage there was crisis in our ward. In fact, we had crisis in the wards all over the town, because people who wanted to run for positions were coming to mobilize factions, because you know that it is from the wards that delegates are selected … So, to preserve the unity in our ward, since people saw me as a leader, I decided to contest. The moment people heard that I was contesting, those who don’t come regularly for party gatherings; I mean they came in droves [to the convention] (laughter). In fact, I understand some people [other ward chairmen] spent money, spent a lot of money! But this thing was given to me on a platter of gold. When we got to the convention, in a very big hall in Afao, it was the governor himself that was officiating. The governor looked at me and the other guy that was contesting and he said, ‘ah but it is only two of you contesting, why don’t one of you step activists who have no formal title or position but given their activism might be perceived as self-important.
160 Sa’eed Husaini down for the other’. That guy now said, ‘Ah daddy, is older than me so he is supposed to step down for me’. I said, ‘Yes you have spoken well. I am older than you’. I said, ‘Eight years ago I was asked to contest for this position, but I rejected it. But you people have messed up the ward. That is why I have only now decided to offer myself.’ So, there was no consensus. Since I didn’t step down and the other guy didn’t step down, we had to hold open primaries. Open … We were there till 1:30 am! But so many people supported me, people that I didn’t even know … I think the guy had only seven votes. But by the time they counted eighty-two votes [for me], the governor stopped and asked me, who is the winner (laughter)? So that is how I emerged.
I quote this narrative at length because it displays the complexities of a loyalist’s political influence on important party activities, such as the selection of party leaders. Note how the Chairman speaks about how he faced ‘pressure’ from fellow members in his ward to contest for his position. The rhetorical trope of ‘pressure from followers’ can function as a discursive ploy to mask political ambitions. Nevertheless, this possibility does not negate the fact that followers – or fellow party members in the narrative – can and often do exert an influence on who might decide to seek leadership positions in the first place. Other interviews and observations at gatherings in ward 13 and other wards in Ado-Ekiti and Zaria corroborate this conclusion: influential, experienced, and committed members were explicitly nominated to contests for positions or tacitly encouraged to run – often outside of formal party gatherings, such as through ‘courtesy visits’ to promising a member’s homes or offices. Note also the Chairman’s description of how his party members planned to secure the backing of the former Deputy Governor. While the influence of officials, former political office holders, and party godfathers on nominations in Nigerian political parties has been widely acknowledged (Hoffmann 2010), the foregoing narrative also evinces how endorsements from such leaders are not always competitive with popular support for a given candidate. In fact, as in the case above, the former can be inspired by the latter. Activists can, thus, exert informal pressure on the decisions of the local party by appealing for support from favourable party leaders and officials. The latter part of the narrative underscores a formal influence that party loyalists hold in local conventions: their votes. They can vote for party leadership at the ward, LGA, and state levels and for delegates to state and national conventions.6 This formal influence, however, is not immune to The constitutions of both major parties also endorse consensus decisions as a mode of selecting party leaders and delegates, provided party members agree to this. In such cases, 6
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 161 intrigue and ambiguity. Several loyalists recounted episodes of fraud, intimidation, and attempts to buy their votes – particularly in higher-stakes elections. ‘Governors, former party chairmen, and some godfathers, they do play a role in nominations’, affirmed Danladi Jama’a of Dutsen Abba ward in Zaria. He continued: Some will be supporting this candidate, while other ones will be supporting this candidate. So, there is a lot of interference. But if somebody is already popular with the people, it will be hard to impose another person. It happens. But that is when you will see fight in the party. So, imposition is very difficult when you have a popular candidate.
An ‘imposition’ from party leaders not only often pits such leaders against each other, but also does not entirely eclipse the emergence of ‘popular’ candidates. Other interviews in Zaria and Ado-Ekiti bear out this state of affairs. Despite the need for loyalists to sometimes ‘fight’, voting provides material political influence and, thus, a meaningful reward for local party activism. This influence also extends to policy. The episodes about the okada ban and stalled public works projects showcase that activists’ complaints about policy issues caught the elected officials’ attention, which I observed during my fieldwork. To be clear, loyalists did not actively participate in the initial formulation of such policies, and most complaints did not elicit immediate responses from state officials. Nevertheless, loyalists could point to instances in which elected officials positively responded to their pressure, including amended policies and public goods. Finally, party activism does also provide the much emphasized direct material rewards to individual activists. Some of these rewards are small: a plate of jollof rice at rallies and LGA meetings, a party or candidate’s promotional tee-shirt or face-cap, or transportation money after a ward meeting. Occasionally, some rewards are more substantial: money for burials, school fees, or other large expenses. ‘They paid 250 thousand [GBP £530] for my children in school just because I always attend meeting[s]’, said Ado-Ekiti PDP loyalist, Bose Adelokin (2016, int.), interestingly adding that, ‘the person [who paid the bill] said I should not mention his name. But I’m eternally grateful’. Active loyalists might secure small contracts – or what is locally referred to as empowerment – to provide catering at a party gathering or supply campaign tee-shirts, posters, bracelets, printed manifestos, and other materials – all at a profit. A small proportion of members are also empowered through jobs on after party leaders and members have picked a candidate by consensus, party members are able to either assent to or disagree with consensus candidates.
162 Sa’eed Husaini campaign teams or positions in local government or civil service. For the select few, party activism may also provide individuals with the opportunity to become political leaders, be this to the local party hierarchy as an ExCo, as described in the Chairman’s narrative above, or even to elected office. As observed by the LGA Chairman and self-declared ‘Mayor’ of Ado-Ekiti, Deji Ogunsakin (2016, int.): ‘If I had not started [participating] from the ward, nobody would have known me, and I would not be where I am today.’ The vignettes and testimonies presented above suggest a number of important lessons. Political gatherings, even in the lulls of the electoral cycle, are critical for local party leaders and members to pursue their political goals. Attending and participating at political gatherings can be thought of as the central feature of a party loyalist’s identity in Nigeria. These snapshots into local party activism also shed light on the multiplicity of rewards. Patronage, then, is a descriptively and analytically insufficient category.
The Distribution of Party Rewards The supply of local party rewards is conditioned by scarcity and uneven distribution. The former is important to underscore given the backdrop of Nigeria’s petro-state, wherein the abundance of natural resources and their influence on politics have more traditionally been highlighted (Apter 1999). The notable absence of this material is accentuated during constituency building periods. Managing sparse resources becomes critical for parties attempting to shore up their base before elections. This resource management, then, results in the uneven distribution of rewards. Two factors stood out as important determinants of reward distribution in the course of my research. First, as both activists and party leaders agreed, the most basic and necessary condition for accessing party rewards is one’s attendance at local party gatherings. Ado-Ekiti APC Loyalist Toyin Adepeju (2016, int.) summarized this point succinctly, observing that, ‘if you are not there [in attendance at political gatherings] regularly, surely you cannot vote [on party decisions] or express your own voice, you won’t know what is going on, and when there is something being shared you will also not benefit’. Showing up leads to all the more widely accessible rewards: political entertainment, political education, petty goods, social capital, and political influence. Regular attendance alone opens up the important, if basic, rewards of party activism. That direct attendance alone can provide access to the basic rewards is noteworthy in a political context where ‘having someone there’ (Owen 2013) in the form of a patron in the corridors of power who
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 163 can ‘speak for you’ has long been recognized as the primary condition for access to political goods ( Joseph 1983). Yet even this condition creates structural impediments for political participation. Transportation (both the availability and cost) and accessibility (especially for the elderly and disabled) limit who can attend. That meetings are conducted in the regional lingua franca – of Yoruba in the case of Ado-Ekiti and Hausa in Zaria – also sets linguistic conditions for participation. This condition practically excludes those who do not use those languages, particularly non-indigenes.7 Second, to access scarcer rewards, loyalists frequently emphasized a combination of factors. These factors include both the ‘quantity’ of gatherings a local activist attended, comprising both the regularity of attendance and the length of time a loyalist had belonged to a given ward, as well as the ‘quality’ of participation. A loyalist must also have a ‘mentor’, ‘leader’, or ‘godfather’ in the state or local party who could ‘give you advice and speak for you’ (Olumide 2016, int.). The key aspects of the ward 13 Chairman’s narrative above are once again relevant. His age, education, friendship with a former Deputy Governor, and eight years of participation in the ward helped him bargain for his position. This state of affairs underscores the importance of these factors for accessing scarce party rewards. These factors, along with gender and wealth, were also affirmed by Zaria interviewees. An interview with Hajjiya Jummai, a Zaria APC Women’s Leader, echoed many of the same issues, particularly those of gender, education, and wealth. Asked how she gained access to her position of leadership, she responded in the following way: It is hard to participate in politics as a woman. Especially if you don’t have money. As me, I like politics, but I did not go to school. I did not finish my secondary school. If you want to get into politics but you don’t go school, you are just disturbing yourself, though I like politics, but in Nigeria now, if you want to go into politics you have to go to school. Go to school, have your everything, then get money. So, it will not be difficult for you. [Even though] I don’t have money, because I am a tailor, I have a shop, now I have like eighteen trainees in the shop, and they are working there … So, I go to my shop, sew fine cloth[es], say to some of my members, ‘Chairman said I should give you’. Gaskiya [sincerely], Chairman did not send me oh! I say you don’t have cloth, leave it to me. I will sew it for you free. But I tell them: ‘It is that chairman that has asked me to give you.’ But just by doing that, I will gain their mind [support]. That is how we do it. Generally perceived as ‘foreigners’ outside of their ‘states of origin’ (Fourchard 2015), non-indigenes are already less likely to receive the rewards of local party politics. 7
164 Sa’eed Husaini It may also be instructive to quote Toyin Adepeju (2016, int.). The Ado-Ekiti APC loyalist’s response to my question – about whether or not regular and long-standing attendance is how one might access local party leadership positions – provides a comprehensive and nuanced summary of the factors that determine reward distribution. As she observed: You may [have attended] ward meetings for twenty years, even 100 years and still remain an ordinary member … But look at it very well. You may join politics and within three months you’ve become one of the leaders. But you can also join politics and for 100 years your name will not be written on the list of leaders. It is either of the two. But it depends on the way you present yourself. It depends on your contribution to the success of that ward. Let’s say you, maybe you want to join ward 4 now. The first day you are coming, you come around with ten bags of rice, two bags of salt, one carton of soap. You drop it at the first meeting. In the next three months, you pick some ankara [printed fabric] at the market, you give it to the women. After that, maybe six months after, you make your way to Fayose market, you pick some small small things, three three thousand, you take ten and take it to ward 4, give it to the elderly men; my brother, calculate the time, its not up to a year, but if they want to write the list of leaders you are going to be there. Because you are contributing to the success of that ward. It is your contribution that will take you to the ladder of leader.
When I followed up with a question about whether people with neither money, age, nor the ‘right’ gender could gain party positions, she responded in the following way: No – you might also have brilliance. If they are doing any meeting now, and you contribute brilliantly in any meeting, the following meeting you contribute again; the next one, and in the fourth meeting; if your ideas are genuine, you have good innovations, my brother, before you know it, if they want to select any committee they will say ‘go and pick that boy’ that is all … Skill matters. Your skill – it really matters most. Me for instance, I am young. I am a woman. But am a delegate from my ward to the local government and from the local government I’m a delegate to the state level. If you look at the number of years I’m not qualified to be there. If you follow the normal procedure I shouldn’t be here … If the leaders see you, you are brilliant, they might say let me mentor you. I mean, you will hear people say ‘ah, a young woman like you said this thing? That is very good. Let us help you.’ They will get to know you. That is how it happened in my case … So, a wealthy man needs a skillful man. Both can work pari passu [on an equal footing] and achieve their aim at the same time. If you need my knowledge, I need your money. I will give you the idea, you give me the money. It’s a simple matter. As
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 165 for women, we used to have it tough in this party … We have it tough. Before, if they need ten people in Abuja, you can assume that ten men will come and fill those positions … It is also difficult for youths. You see some youths after joining politics they will just turn themselves to thugs. You cannot imagine, a boy, you were not even a cultist before joining politics, you were not in any group before. But because they join politics, you just see them carry guns; they don’t even know how to do it oh. But they carry guns, carry cutlass [saying] ‘I will break your head!’ When you are carrying cutlass, carry[ing] guns, broken bottles: they will never appoint you to any post. This is whether you like it or not. They will just shortlist your name today, tomorrow they will remove it. They will say ‘we have some other places to make use of you’. When they are ready to do elections, they will invite you. When they want to go for rally; when there is a little crisis between PDP and APC they will invite you. ‘I will give you 50 thousand naira, just go there and shoot’. And some people believe in that. Which is really given them problem now … They don’t have their own mind. These youths just copy others. I want to be like so, so, and so. I was ‘Lanre’ before – but they will say– ‘please don’t call me Lanre, I am Larry now’. Or Obe will say no, now I’m Obi. So, they change their name. They don’t know their correct language. Some are called ‘Battery’. Some are called ‘Dog’. [Laughter].
A few themes in Toyin’s response, echoed among other loyalists, should be unpacked. Reward distribution breaks down along the following factors: age, skill, education, popularity, gender, resources, and an influential ‘mentor’s’ support. These factors, particularly gender and age, interact in a dynamic manner. Sometimes these factors operate symbiotically, but in other times these factors reinforce existing barriers. Particularly instructive in this regard is Toyin’s own story. Her eventual ‘mentor’ noticed her because her ‘brilliance’, youth, and gender pulled in her favour. Her story contrasts with her example of the young men who, lacking ‘their own mind’ ultimately ‘turn themselves to thugs’ and are, thus, never ‘appointed to any post’.8 Most loyalists affirmed that ‘influence’, ‘popularity’, and ‘skill’ can sometimes trump money as a means to access party rewards. Yet such influence might need to be purchased through empowering other members. Since women and youth are least likely to have such resources, their social location can work as a mutually reinforcing impediment. Similarly, in this context, ‘brilliance’ can often mean having either certain skills, command over language, and/or confidence gained
Ichino (2006) conflates this difference between ‘thugs’ and regular party loyalists in her essay. This is a very important distinction given the different roles these actors fulfil, not to mention the moral and practical weight the distinction holds for loyalists themselves. 8
166 Sa’eed Husaini through formal education.9 One’s formal education might also function as a bargaining tool, as it did in the ward 13 Chairman narrative. Formal education can, therefore, restrict access to party rewards since most party loyalists are unlikely to have attained education above the secondary school level. Taken together (and bracketing exceptions such as Toyin), these factors result in a system of uneven distribution in which the young and women are less likely to enjoy the most coveted rewards. In addition to Ichino and Nathan’s (2017) suggestion that social norms may be the central impediment to women’s participation in party organs in Ghana, my research suggests that structural factors also work against women and the young. Ultimately, despite the heterogeneity of political rewards that can inspire the active participation of loyalists, the factors determining reward distribution practically exclude many from the scarcest party goods – particularly that of holding leadership positions. This distribution structure undermines the representational ideal of party politics.
Conclusion This level of activism, even in the lulls of the electoral cycle, suggests at minimum that a prevailing perspective, which holds that African parties carry out ‘very little party activity between elections’ (Basedau, et al. 2007: 25), begs to be reassessed. What I have sought to show is that, much like studies of voting and elections, an understanding of why party activists participate in this down-tempo phase of the election cycle can shed light on the political practices of everyday citizens and the ways in which they pursue collective goals through political parties. This chapter advanced three interrelated arguments to explain the motivations that retain active loyalists. First, considering the ‘supply side’ of political goods that parties may offer to activists, I point to a plurality of party rewards that inspire and retain party loyalists in the lulls of the electoral off season. The commonly used categories of patronage and clientelism fail to adequately account for these wide-ranging rewards – from the formal to the informal, material to experiential. Second, I argue that resource scarcity leads to reward management. Coveted rewards, such as leadership positions and substantial material benefits, are accessible to but a few activists. Practically, parties distribute these scarce resources in an uneven manner. There are some exceptions. Toyin and Hajjiya Jummai, both of whom manifestly demonstrated these traits, had not completed secondary school. 9
Governing Party Constituency Building in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic 167 Finally, I argue that the quality and length of a loyalist’s participation in their local branch roughly determines the goods an individual loyalist can access. However, I also note how reward distribution depends on social factors that structurally advantage older, able, wealthier, and better-educated male loyalists. This structure weakens the representational function of party democracy by structurally disadvantaging others. This is a weakness not of African democracy, but of liberal democracy more generally. Despite variations in the cultural context and political traditions, these factors held constant in both constituencies. This consistency underscores the influence of a shared national political culture of constituency building among Nigeria’s two main political parties in the Fourth Republic. These case studies also demonstrate the utility of empirical party research that considers the routines of party activity beyond the episodic moments of the electoral cycle.
7 Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic ALIYU MODIBBO-UMAR AND V. ADEFEMI ISUMONAH
Introduction Nigeria’s democratic governance has been weighed and found wanting with the values, principles, ethos, objectives, and goals of different models of liberal democracy. The consensus among analysts and other stakeholders is that democratic politics in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic has failed to deliver good governance and other democratic dividends (Adeosun 2014; Omilusi 2015; Usman and Avidime 2016; Ashindorbe 2019). Disrespect for human rights by security agents (especially the infamous Special Anti-Robbery Squad, SARS) leading to the ‘EndSARS’ nation-wide protests in 2020, and executive lawlessness are still rampant. This is why some analysts and stakeholders have characterized Nigeria’s democracy as civil rather than democratic rule. For instance, the distinguished public commentator and Catholic priest, Matthew Kukah (2019) noted that Nigeria’s political system has become even more unruly with irresponsible behaviour of men and women of unquestionable character that it has thrusted into power. Sklar, et al. (2006) similarly wrote that the personalization of political power and the overbearing influence of powerful politicians have undermined the principles and values of democratic practice in Nigeria. Furthermore, Falode (2013) and Suleiman (2016) similarly observed that democratic progress and good governance have been stifled by the leadership styles characterized by Machiavellian tactics of the four executive presidents that the country has had in the Fourth Republic. Political institutions – national parliaments, judiciary, political parties, elected local governments, etc. – that distinguish today’s representative governments from the popular governments of the Greek and the Roman without
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 169 which no democracy in large and complex polities can meet the expectations of popular will are also present in Nigeria (Dahl 1998). But collectively derived decisions from the participation of all citizens through these political institutions are possible when a modern state organization lives up to the two basic principles of democracy highlighted by Pericles’ funeral oration for fallen Greek soldiers – political participation and political equality. A participant political culture that these principles foster contributes to the development of strong political institutions and ensures that those entrusted with political power act within constitutional safeguards for rule of law, respect for civil and political rights, accountability and, in a presidential system, separation of powers between the arms of government against usurpation by one person or political institution to prevail. This is what remains to be seen in Nigeria. For some, strong institutions are sufficient for securing and guaranteeing good governance. If institutions are that much indispensable to democratic development, a focus on a single dominant leader may be criticized for limiting the ‘utility of polities like Nigeria where power relations are more complicated and dispersed’ (Diamond 1987: 582). Personality factors are thus irrelevant for advocates of strong political institutions because of the belief that they are self-actuating. But the strength of the criticism against a focus on a single dominant leader depends on the level of analysis or the aspect of political process focused. It goes without saying that no two adjudged strong institutions exhibit exactly the same pattern of behaviour even if they produce a similar outcome, which is a pointer to the power of personality characteristics. What is more, the same political institutions have produced different behavioural patterns, reflecting the different personalities that ran them. It is hardly a subject of debate that Donald Trump affected the US presidency, amid other strong political institutions, in a very different way. This suggests that the leadership style of the president can shape the political atmosphere (Mazrui 1970) in a way that promotes or blocks the expression of democratic values as a powerful person’s conduct or disposition can have far-reaching consequences for a polity. As Bayart, et al. (1999) have observed, the personal political ambition of Charles Taylor set off the internal conflict in Liberia and Sierra Leone. The former Governor of the old Anambra State, Christian C. Onoh alleged that Emeka Ojukwu’s personal ambition was decisive in the declaration of secession of the Eastern Region from Nigeria in 1967 (Onoh 1997: 18/19). So, leadership style is an important issue to focus. It is necessary, then, to examine the conduct and competence of leaders especially the Presidents of the Fourth Republic of Nigeria to determine the impact of their styles on democratic progress with the ultimate desire for good governance. So, this chapter examines the tenures of the four
170 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah presidents in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic: Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007), Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010), Goodluck Ebele Jonathan (2010–2015) and Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023). The famous statement of 33rd President of the United States of America, Harry Truman, ‘the buck stops here’, captures the overarching responsibility of the chief executive even for nations with different centres of power. In his reflection on the two decades of democracy in Nigeria, Mahmud Jega (2019) concludes that the four presidents examined in this chapter differ in many respects from their attitudes to criticism, purpose of power, and collegiality to democratic decision making. For example, some had a tendency to micromanage their political party, others tended to dine with it with a long spoon. While the fact that the Fourth Republic has lasted far longer than past Republics is reassuring, recent cracks in the polity under General Muhammadu Buhari are a cause for serious concern and indicate that the survival of democracy in Nigeria depends in large measure on the style of the president given the vast powers vested in the office. Indeed, the President’s constitutional and moral powers would lead anyone to conclude that the office of the Nigerian president is the most powerful of its kind in the world.
Common Characteristics of the Presidents All of the presidents but General Muhammadu Buhari whose styles this chapter reviews did not consciously seek presidential office. Although elected, there is a sense in which all got presidential power by anointing. This is probably why none showed evidence of societal or national vision as details of their styles provided in the following pages show. They all enjoyed luxury, occasionally going abroad on medical tourism at the expense of Nigerians. They displayed an uncompromising elite privilege, refusing to heed the demand of the Nigerian public to place restrictions on medical tourism abroad. President Obasanjo even advocated it. While addressing the late Ooni (traditional leader) of Ife, Oba Okunade Sijuwade at a public gathering, he said, ‘I want you [Sijuwade] to return [abroad] immediately for proper medical checkup’.1 Some of them even flaunted their elite privilege. President Obasanjo in a video filmed at his Ota Farm House can be heard telling young men a rich person has so much and lasting enjoyment at their disposal. The public knows that the Nigerian governing class enjoys undeserved luxury. To verbalize it in the manner President Obasanjo did shows how unapologetic 1
The Guardian, Lagos, 31 July 2004: 2.
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 171
Figure 7.1. Left to right: Outgoing President Olusegun Obasanjo, Vice President Goodluck Jonathan, and President Umaru Yar’Adua at the inauguration of the latter on 29 May 2007. ( Johnny Greig / Alamy Stock Photo).
the political elite can be about the prostrate living conditions of the ordinary people. They all found convenience in the distribution of largesse especially to the National Assembly either for micromanaging it or to avoid their recalcitrance and be free to carry on with their life unfettered. The Fourth Republic presidents exemplify African elites who embraced the lifestyle and taste of their predecessor European colonial elites. As Diamond (1987: 584) put it, quoting Smythe and Smythe (1960: 132), at the same time ‘as the African elites accepted power from rulers who had never been responsible to the masses, “the new elite accepted the same remoteness from the popular will as their natural and proper role”’. The presidents took turns to create multiple agencies and new government establishments. President Olusegun Obasanjo created the National Economic Empowerment Development Strategy (NEEDS), which he duplicated as the State Economic Empowerment Development Strategy (SEEDS) and the Local Economic Empowerment Development Strategy (LEEDS); the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC); the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC); the Niger Delta
172 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah Development Commission (NDDC); the Hydroelectric Power Producing Areas Development Commission (HYPPADEC); the Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI); etc. Presidents Goodluck Jonathan and Muhammadu Buhari have excelled in the establishment of new federal universities even as existing ones have been shut down by strikes most of the time over poor funding disputes with the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU). This multiplication of government agencies and establishments has been undertaken without attention to requisite goal achievement details. The Fourth Republic presidents hardly followed through their public speeches and declarations. Under Obasanjo and Jonathan in particular, oil boomed. But they left public infrastructure especially roads in the decrepit state in which they met them. Poor budget implementation leading to widespread project abandonment amid downplaying project implementation is not surprising, then, while government was supposedly waging war against corruption and stealing of public funds through the ICPC and EFCC. As Ingwe, et al. (2013) have argued, abandonment of projects fully funded in the budget provides the opportunity for embezzlement by public servants. President Umar Yar’Adua gave a directive soon after his inauguration that all unspent budgeted funds should be returned to government coffers. However, there is no evidence that his successors followed through. All except President Jonathan agreed to debate opponents. All except President Yar’Adua routinely increased fuel pump prices while bemoaning persisting high costs of the subsidy on fuel consumption and failing to revive moribund refineries or building new ones. The increases were made in the following distribution: Obasanjo’s Administration (1999–2007) – six times; Jonathan’s administration – once; Buhari’s administration – seven times: all without corresponding improvement in social amenities. Indeed, there was a deterioration in the condition of roads in various parts of the country. All four presidents refused to accede to the demand for political restructuring, what may be regarded as the counterpart of economic liberalization, which they pursued aggressively in the areas of education, telecommunications, radio and television, electric power, etc., through private sector participation without a clear objective to improve services. However, President Obasanjo refused to accelerate power sector reforms. For example, he vetoed the Power Sector Reform Bill passed by the National Assembly in March 2003 because of its provision for screening by the National Assembly of commissioners nominated for appointment to the proposed National Electricity Regulatory
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 173 Commission.2 As it turned out, the Federal Government is the beneficiary as collector of rents from economic liberalization particularly from the telecommunications companies. Ordinary Nigerians continue to bear the brunt of dismal power supply even though President Obasanjo’s Administration expended about US$16 billion on the power sector. Buhari’s administration is particularly culpable of reneging on the promise of political restructuring by his All Progressives Congress (APC). The practice of holding a weekly Executive Council Meeting that President Obasanjo started in 1999 has been continued by his successors. This meeting serves as a formal channel for making public decisions, notably announcement of contract awards for the execution of Federal Government projects. This practice contrasts with that in the Second Republic during which the ruling National Party of Nigeria’s caucus meetings were the forum for making key policy decisions.3 But the patriarchal tendency of all the presidents is evinced by the large turnover in their ruling party’s leadership. In eighteen years (1999 to 2017), PDP had thirteen national chairs either in substantive or acting capacity4 and, in seven years, the APC has had five national chairs in substantive and acting capacity (APC 2023).
Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007) Olusegun Obasanjo was the most equipped of all the presidents who have led Nigeria in the Fourth Republic (see Figure 7.2). One of his rich credentials is an accomplished military career in the Nigerian Army where he started from the rank of 2nd Lieutenant in 1958 and retiring from the Army in 1979 as a four-star general. Obasanjo had his military training from world renowned institutions. In addition to this rich training, he was at the centre of some of the major armed conflicts in Africa and later Nigeria. As the General Officer Commanding (GOC) of the 3rd Division of the Nigerian Army, Obasanjo received the instrument of surrender from the secessionists of Biafra in January 1970. He was also fortunate to have been handed the presidency by the military Administration of Abdulsalami Abubakar to placate his ethnic Yoruba nation whose access to it was truncated by the annulment of the 12 June 1993 Presidential Election won by his kinsman, Chief M.K.O. Abiola. According 2 3 4
Punch, Lagos, 21 June 2004: 16. The Guardian, Lagos, 18 March 2002: 7. The Nation, Lagos, 7 December 2017.
174 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah to Col. Abubakar Umar, his electoral platform, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), was marketed by the government of General Abubakar to the international community as the party that opposed General Sani Abacha.5 Other commentators (see Omoruyi 1999: 48) regarded the process as ‘working from the answer’ given how the retired generals and other powerful elements worked together to ensure Obasanjo’s victory both in the party and in the general election. From day one, President Obasanjo left no doubt that he wanted to be in charge, beginning with his interest in the composition of the leadership of the National Assembly. He sought to gain control over all who mattered in the political arena and used the instruments of state power (EFCC in particular) to demote or render politically impotent any who dared challenge his imperial will, especially in the service of his third-term ambition. Among many victims of Obasanjo’s presidency were Governors, National Assembly members, PDP leaders, the opposition parties, and those seeking party nomination across political parties (see Isumonah 2012). To create an alternative force to the PDP, his presidential election platform without support from his home constituency, Obasanjo reached out to Alliance for Democracy and All People’s Party by appointing their card-carrying members to ministerial positions.6 Although this seemed like a bridge-building move, later events revealed its real purpose of using it to destabilize the opposition and achieve one-party domination of Nigeria. His craving for control of the membership of the National Assembly was fired by the taunting of the ‘Northern power brokers of lacking “home support” to disparage him when they complained of political marginalization soon after he was sworn in’ for his first term in 1999 (Isumonah 2012: 51). He proceeded to change the leadership of the PDP as frequently as he thought necessary for his imperial purpose. It is against this background that Isumonah characterized President Obasanjo’s eight-year administration as ‘imperial presidency’. He captures Obasanjo’s style in the following words. ‘Disregard for the rule of law was frequently a source of friction between Obasanjo and the National Assembly, composed of individuals in whose election he had played no role. To gain unlimited latitude for imperial choices, he took control of representation in 2003’ (Isumonah 2012: 43). President Obasanjo’s actions were moderated by survivalist interests. Thus, when the minorities of the oil-producing states of South South (Akwa Ibom,
5 6
Tell Magazine, Lagos, 12 July 1999: 15. TheWeek, Lagos, 21 June 1999: 9.
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 175
Figure 7.2. President Olusegun Obasanjo (left), taking the oath during his swearing-in on 29 May 1999. (Reuters / Alamy Stock Photo).
Cross River, Rivers, and Delta) put the Supreme Court’s on-shore/off-shore dichotomy decision for the implementation of the derivation principle against their interest on the 2003 presidential ballot, he retreated by causing an enactment of a law to counteract it (Isumonah 2015, Egwaikhide, et al. 2009). He used largesse where necessary. For example, he succumbed to the National Assembly’s quest for spoils soon after the inauguration of the Fourth Republic when each member of Senate received 5 million naira while each member of the House of Representatives received 3.5 million naira. Obasanjo’s presidency and the National Assembly exchanged blackmail throughout his tenure. While the National Assembly accused him of dictatorial tendencies and lack of respect for the principle of separation of powers, he fired back with the accusation of avarice – procurement of undeserved (furniture) allowances and fixing of salaries and emoluments leading to the inflation of recurrent and capital budgets.7 While the National Assembly accused President Obasanjo of poor budget implementation which in some years was no more than 30%, President Obasanjo responded that budget padding by the National See exchange of letters between President Obasanjo and Speaker of the House of Representatives in The Guardian, Lagos, 1 September 2000: 8; The Comet, Lagos, 27 August 2000: 6. 7
176 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah Assembly hampered it.8 The handling of the 2000 budget laid the foundation for the cavalier fiscal policy of the period. President Obasanjo made eighteen additional requests totalling 7.5 billion naira for recurrent expenditure and 105.19 billion naira for capital expenditure to the budget. Despite the outcry that greeted these requests, many of them were approved by the Assembly. But the presidential requests apparently inspired the leadership of the Assembly to allot equally scandalous sums to themselves. In the approved budget, the national leadership [sic.] made provision for the purchase of six new bullet proof limousines (Benz S-500) for themselves.9
Others included two four-wheel drive vehicles, thirty buses and sundry exotic cars. Joint complicity in the quest for the ‘finest taste’ casts doubt on the claim of either side of commitment to public good in the form of exercising oversight on the other. President Obasanjo was essentially a centralist. Under him as military Head of State, Nigeria was taken deeper into centralization with state television stations and universities taken over by the Federal Military Government. His government even merged various labour unions into one as the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC). It is not surprising that he resisted the call for political restructuring. The annulment of the 12 June 1993 Presidential Election and the repression of those pressing for its validation, particularly the Yoruba ethnic group, to seal it generated a debate on the nationality question six years before the inauguration of the Second Republic with Obasanjo as the foundation president. As Wole Soyinka (1999) observed, the insistent theme in the debate on nationality question is that there should be an extraordinary forum for discussing the terms of union. A Friedrich Ebert Foundation Conference held in Jos 2000 recommended a national conference to rework the 1999 Constitution.10 Very early in Obasanjo’s first term in 2000, even conservative northern political elites called for a national conference to beat back the resistance to their quest for religious identity by means of Sharia law. At that time, he neither acceded to the call for a national conference nor for a ‘sovereign’ national conference. When he convened the National Conference in the twilight of his second term in office, critics accused him of attempting to use the Conference to amend the Constitution to allow him run for a third term.
8 9 10
The Guardian, Lagos, 8 April 2002: 2. The Comet, Lagos, 28 March 2000: 25. The Guardian, Lagos, 10 February 2000.
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 177 Obasanjo’s realization of liberal democracy as an elected President depended on his person in power – based on his experience as two-time Head of State (1976–1979; 1999–2007) and civil war hero. Therefore, the extent to which he followed laid-down procedures in the conduct of governance was hampered by his style and character, which may be explained by his military background. Akinkugbe and Joda (2013) summarized the essential Obasanjo in these words: ‘As unpredictable as any complex leader could be, especially one in the Flavian Emperors [sic.], one issue that does not seem to be in doubt is the influence of his personality upon the fundamental decisions that he took, regardless of constraints.’ However, a significant number of Nigerians considered Obasanjo as ‘the father of the Nigerian nation’ given that he commanded among such people a ‘neo-filial reverence’ (Mazrui 1970: 538).11 In fact, he was given the appellation Baba (meaning ‘father’) to reflect his patriarchal status. Indeed, as president, he saw himself as the ‘father of the nation’ by virtue of his past role in Nigeria’s history. Moreover, Obasanjo’s age, which made him among the oldest political office holders at the time, provided the traditional rationality for the claim to be the ‘father of the nation’, a phrase that has become commonly associated with Nigeria’s incumbent presidents. It must be acknowledged that Obasanjo long acquired his patriarchal status even before becoming president in 1999. After leaving office in 1979, he strived for and achieved the position of an African elder statesman. Through the organizations he founded such as the Africa Leadership Forum (ALF), and the various notable global initiatives, Obasanjo became a formidable figure among world leaders. Thus, by the time he became president again in 1999, his standing as an elder statesman was already well established. President Obasanjo sometimes used force to achieve his aims. It is widely believed that the election in November 1999 of Chuba Okadigbo following the impeachment of Evan Enwerem over allegation of certificate fraud as the second Senate President deeply enraged Obasanjo. By June 2000, the relationship between him and Okadigbo had become extremely sour as a result of the decision to adjourn the Senate by Okadigbo, which Obasanjo considered averse to the interest of his administration (Aziken 2009). Thus, shortly after the decision, armed policemen surrounded Okadigbo’s residence with the intent of retrieving the mace he was alleged to have stolen from the Senate. Okadigbo was impeached shortly after on corruption charges and Instructively, Mazrui argues that ‘Patriarchal leadership can be profoundly African when it becomes inter-twined with African reverence for age and elderly wisdom’ (1970: 538) (italics original). 11
178 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah
Figure 7.3. British Prime Minister Tony Blair (left) meets with Nigeria’s President Olusegun Obasanjo, at the Prime Minister’s home in Trimdon in his Sedgefield constituency, County Durham, UK, 21 January 2004. (PA Images / Alamy Stock Photo).
replaced with Pius Anyim, apparently with the tacit approval of Obasanjo. Other instances of Obasanjo’s deployment of force are the Odi and Zaki-Biam massacres. The murder of twelve police officers by a criminal gang near Odi, Bayelsa State, on 4 November 1999 precipitated the Odi massacre. In the effort to arrest the culprits, the Army was requested to assist because of the difficult terrain. While on patrol, the unit of the Nigerian Army was ambushed near Odi. Some of the soldiers were taken hostage and later gruesomely beheaded. The Army High Command reported the incident to President Obasanjo who promptly convened a meeting with the governors of Bayelsa, Delta, and Rivers states in attendance. The meeting rose with the resolution that the state governors would bring the culprits to book. After two weeks, the meeting reconvened with President Obasanjo, the military top command, and state governors in attendance. At the meeting, the state governors, particularly the Governor of Bayelsa State, expressed his inability to
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 179 effect any arrest of the perpetrators of the heinous acts. The military reported that the apparent unserious effort at arresting the gang that beheaded the soldiers indicated that the Odi community was complicit in the crime. Those at the meeting recalled how the Chief of Army Staff sounded what appeared to be a warning, namely, agitation in the military barracks and a craving for vengeance. He stated, ‘Mr. President [Commander-in-Chief ], these outlaws beheaded some of my soldiers and more than two weeks now no arrest of the culprits has been made. It is my duty to report that the barracks is talking’ (Anonymous 1999). The Army High Command then requested Obasanjo to permit them to embark on the investigation to apprehend the culprits. Those in attendance at the meeting said President Obasanjo understood the ‘coded’ message, ‘the barracks is talking’, to mean that the military was saying that if nothing was done, the survival of the five-month-old Fourth Republic could not be guaranteed. This led to a compromise measure of a minimal security operation with the objective of apprehending the criminals. However, the outcome of the military exercise was tragic. The official account of the government said forty-three people were killed in the operation, but Human Rights Watch (2001) indicated that hundreds were killed and that the entire town was razed with only a few buildings left. The public outcry over the Odi debacle led to a long court case culminating in judgement delivered in 2013 by the Federal High Court, compelling the Federal Government to pay 37.6 billion naira as compensation to the Odi community (Ibekwe 2013). Eventually, a settlement was reached in the year 2014 in which the Federal Government during the Presidency of Goodluck Jonathan, who incidentally hails from the area and was Deputy Governor at the time of the Odi massacre, paid 15 billion naira as the final settlement of the lawsuit (The Tide 2015). President Obasanjo’s deployment of military force in Zaki-Biam had a similar background. Nineteen soldiers were abducted by Tiv ethnic militia and brutally murdered, mutilated, and dumped in the village of Zaki-Biam. To complete the humiliation, the abductors and murderers of the soldiers, captured their brutality on video tape. According to presidency sources, the security forces retrieved the video and played it in a meeting chaired by President Obasanjo. On seeing the magnitude of the carnage, President Obasanjo ordered a fullfledged military operation in the village and environs to effect the arrest of the members of the militia. What ensued was described by Human Rights Watch as total mayhem where scores of people numbering between 100 and 200 were killed, in addition to wanton destruction of homes and properties (Human Rights Watch 2001). However, prior to these experiences, when he became the President in 1999, Obasanjo took steps that were intended to reconcile the political class,
180 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah sharply divided along party lines, by appointing opposition figures into his cabinet. The international community viewed his ascension to power as an opportunity to reconcile the multidimensional conflicts that plagued Nigeria (Reckhow 2000). In his 1999 inaugural speech, he stated: ‘I am determined to stretch my hand of fellowship to all Nigerians regardless of their political affiliations. I intend to reconcile all those who feel alienated by past political events and I will endeavor to heal divisions and to restore the harmony we used to know in this country.’ (Obasanjo 2014: 61). He continued to echo the need for total reconciliation in his speech while inaugurating the National Assembly in the same year, acknowledging that the diversity of Nigeria in religion, ethnicity, and region gave the impetus of adopting federalism as the basis of belonging to a nation called Nigeria. He observed that over the years many in the country complained about being short-changed, and consequently demanded a restructuring of the federation so that every entity in Nigeria would have a sense of belonging. Obasanjo pledged to work with the National Assembly, state governments, the traditional authorities, and all other groups to find a lasting solution to the problems hindering the realization of a true federal system (Obasanjo 2014). President Obasanjo’s efforts at assuaging hurt feelings from human rights abuses were motivated by the horrific human rights abuses from which he escaped by a whisker during the era of General Sani Abacha. Obasanjo created the Human Rights Violation Investigation Commission of Nigeria under the Chairmanship of retired Justice of the Supreme Court, Justice Chukwudifu Oputa in June of 1999. The Commission which came to be known as the Oputa Panel was mandated to investigate instances of human rights violations in Nigeria during the various military regimes from 15 January 1966 (the date of the first military coup) to 28 May 1999 (the last day of military rule). At the inauguration, Obasanjo declared: ‘We want to reconcile all those who feel alienated by past political events, heal wounds inflicted on our people and restore harmony in our country. We want the injured and the seemingly injured to be reconciled with their oppressors or seeming oppressors. That is the way to move forward’ (Obasanjo 2014). However, there are mixed reactions to what the Oputa Panel was able to accomplish even though President Obasanjo, in a national address, offered a blanket apology on behalf of the nation to all the individuals and groups who have suffered one form of injustice, abuse, or violation in the past. In his reaction when the Panel submitted its eight-volume report in May 2002, Obasanjo stated: ‘We need to be remorseful and sorry for our past misdeeds and as a people resolve never to allow it happen again’ (The New Humanitarian 2002). It is important to note that Obasanjo inherited a decayed and archaic infrastructure across the country. One sector that his administration was determined
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 181 to transform swiftly was the oil sector. He began by revoking some of the contracts awarded for the repairs of refineries by previous regimes, alleging that the contracts were marred by corruption. Some of the notable innovations introduced in the oil and gas sector included authorizing the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) to build and operate fuel stations across the country, the change in the process of bidding for oil blocks, the introduction of the marginal fields programme which grants participation to the indigenes of the locality where the marginal fields are located. Another milestone achieved in the oil and gas industry was the creation of the Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI) law, empowered to ensure due process, transparency and accountability in the extractive revenue paid to government. Another major transformative programme under the Obasanjo government was the re-invigoration of the privatization of public assets. Obasanjo pushed the privatization programme which commenced in 1988 to the next level when in July 1999 he inaugurated the National Council on Privatization (NCP) under the leadership of his Vice President. The other areas where Obasanjo introduced his transformative agenda were the drive to acquire debt relief for African countries, which he relentlessly pursued. At the end, the creditor countries acquiesced by granting debt forgiveness to several African countries, Nigeria inclusive. Another reform programme by Obasanjo was the introduction of the NEEDS, which was envisaged to focus on poverty reduction, wealth creation, employment generation, and other laudable objectives (Obasanjo 2014). Fighting corruption and graft was another area where Obasanjo pushed for reform. He made this a priority within nine days of being sworn in by submitting a bill to the National Assembly for the establishment of the ICPC. His administration also established the EFCC which was initially a very effective anti-corruption agency under the leadership of Nuhu Ribadu (see Adebanwi 2011b). With the benefit of hindsight, Obasanjo reflected the federal character of Nigeria in political recruitment and distribution of key government positions and calmed the frayed national fabric by the brutal military of General Sani Abacha more than all other presidents of the Fourth Republic to date.
Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010) The background and antecedents of Umaru Musa Yar’Adua who became the President of Nigeria in 2007 are almost a direct opposite to the style and character of his predecessor, Olusegun Obasanjo. Yar’Adua was born into a Fulani aristocratic family in the ancient city of Katsina in northern Nigeria. His father, Musa Yar’Adua held the prestigious title of Matawallen Katsina in the court of the Emir of Katsina. Musa Yar’Adua, a well-known teacher
182 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah ventured into politics before independence and was then made Minister of Lagos Affairs during the First Republic. Umaru Yar’Adua’s elder brother, the late Major-General Shehu Musa Yar’Adua was the Chief of Staff, Supreme Headquarters, the equivalent position of the Vice President, from 1976 to 1979 (when Obasanjo was the military Head of State). After completing his primary and secondary education, President Umaru Yar’Adua enrolled at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, where he earned a B.Sc. in Education/Chemistry and M.Sc. in Analytical Chemistry. Yar’Adua had a very limited public service career. All in all, he served as lecturer at two institutions, Katsina College of Arts, Science and Technology from 1976 to 1979 and then at the Katsina Polytechnic from 1979 to 1983, a total of seven years only in public service. Subsequently, Yar’Adua served in various capacities in his family’s business ventures. In 1999, he emerged the Governor of Katsina State under the platform of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). He won re-election in 2003. In 2007, Umaru Yar’Adua clinched the nomination of his party, the PDP to become its candidate for the office of the President of Nigeria and the presidency with the active support of President Obasanjo who deployed the instruments of incumbency to his campaign.
Figure 7.4. President Umaru Yar’Adua (left) and outgoing President Olusegun Obasanjo at the inauguration of the former in May 2007. ( Johnny Greig / Alamy Stock Photo).
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 183 Yar’Adua asserted his authority immediately after taking over in a very subtle magisterial way, different from the imperial style of his predecessor as he hardly spoke about what he wanted to do, except that he always ensured he achieved his goals/objectives in politics, and only the courts could be used by the opposition to stop him, as he was reputed for deferring to the rule of law. Although he had not been in the military, he was self-assertive. His predecessor Obasanjo acknowledged this, citing Yar’Adua’s reversal of some of the policies inherited from his administration, that is, the National Integrated Power Project (NIPP), the Railway Project, and the judgement of incarcerated security personnel of the Abacha Regime (Obasanjo 2014). Unlike President Obasanjo, President Yar’Adua refused to interfere in the court judgements nullifying the elections of governors who were members of his own party. He even admitted that the election that brought him to power was flawed and followed it with the establishment of the Justice Uwais Electoral Reform Committee. He showed a disposition to the peaceful resolution of conflicts, particularly the Niger Delta crisis, where he made the development of the region a major policy thrust of his administration. He created institutions, notably, the Ministry of Niger Delta Affairs, that would address the peculiar challenges of the people of Niger Delta (Dode 2010) and granted amnesty to the militants in the region, resulting in cessation of open conflict between the region’s militants on the one hand and oil companies and the Federal Government on the other. The amnesty policy was in a sense in the self-interest of his administration because it resulted in the drastic improvement in oil exploitation and accrual of revenue for the country. Moreover, he reached out to opposition parties to support his administration’s effort to transform the country, showing his commitment to the unity he sought by appointing opposition members into his government. Yar’Adua had been a socialist. In the Second Republic, he was a member of the left-leaning People’s Redemption Party (PRP) led by Mallam Aminu Kano. His Seven-Point Agenda announced his transformation programme for the nation (Bello-Imam and Abubakre 2009). He took steps that justified his people-centred leadership philosophy when he reduced the oil pump price and revoked some privatizations that had taken place under his predecessor. Besides, he restored respectability to judicial pronouncements as he ensured that court judgements were honoured, a total departure from the situation under his predecessor where court orders were selectively obeyed. For example, Yar’Adua ordered the immediate release of the Local Government Allocations of Lagos State which had been seized by the Federal Government under Obasanjo’s administration despite the Supreme Court’s judgement that the funds be released. He introduced reforms that even undermined the capitalist
184 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah direction of his predecessor, including the halting, revocation, and probing of contracts that breached procurement requirements or laws ( Joseph and Gillies 2010). Yar’Adua’s record of rule of law would remain a subject of debate. There are many reasons to conclude that he followed bureaucratic rules for the most account, but failed to do so when it threatened his hold on power. For instance, those who would argue that he was a bureaucratic leader would cite his obedience of court orders and his record of being guided by the ‘federal character’ principle in appointments to political or public offices compared to President Buhari, while those who would argue that he was not a bureaucratic leader would point to his failure to hand over power to his Vice President, Goodluck Jonathan, when he was away on medical trips for over three months, as demanded by the Constitution. That said, his short tenure of less than three years marked by ill-health does not grant ample opportunity for a fuller characterization of his style.
Goodluck Jonathan (2010–2015) The political journey of Goodluck Jonathan was a phenomenal one. In fact, he admitted that ‘divine providence … elevated’ him ( Jonathan 2018). If Jonathan’s statement attributing his ascension to power as president of the most populous black nation in the world was not loud enough, his wife, Patience Jonathan, made it louder when she was reported to have said: ‘The presidency is an opportunity that fell unto us on a platter of gold … we didn’t fight, we didn’t pay. God willed it to us’ (Abdullahi 2017). Jonathan hails from the Ijaw ethnic group in Bayelsa State in the Niger Delta region of Nigeria. His father was a fisherman who occasionally crafted canoes for sale to augment the family’s income. As he himself put it, ‘the canoe building part of my family’s origin is a clear testament of how indigent we were at that time’ ( Jonathan 2018). Against these odds, Jonathan graduated with a B.Sc. in Zoology, M.Sc. in Hydrobiology and Fisheries, and a Ph.D. in Zoology, all from the University of Port Harcourt. His foray into the public service was brief, serving only as lecturer and later as an Environmental Officer before venturing into politics. In 1999, he was drafted to be the running mate of Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, where on winning the election they served as Governor and Deputy Governor of Bayelsa State, respectively. Governor Alamieyeseigha was impeached and removed in December 2005, paving the way for Jonathan to become the substantive Governor of Bayelsa State.
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 185
Figure 7.5. President Goodluck Jonathan (second right) holds the PDP flag at the launch of his campaign in Lafia, Nassarawa state; his running mate, Vice President Sambo, is on his left; 7 February 2011. (Reuters / Alamy Stock Photo).
Jonathan was chosen by Umaru Yar’Adua to become his running mate in the election for President of Nigeria and, with their victory, became Vice President of Nigeria in 2007. Less than three years later, Jonathan was sworn in as President upon the death of President Yar’Adua. He won the 2011 presidential election for his own term of four years. His admission of defeat at the 2015 quest for re-election has won him a place in the history of Nigeria as being the first President to concede losing an election to his opponent. Goodluck Jonathan utilized intimidation for securing allegiance or support for his political objectives. He is on record to have used harassment against Governor Rotimi Amaechi of River State and the Chairman of the Nigerian Governors’ Forum (NGF) apparently for resisting the undue influence of his wife, Mrs Patience Jonathan in his state and openly refusing to support his second term ambition. Other cases of his coercive tactic were the use of hooded security agents to intimidate and harass the members of the National Assembly, and the use of the military to harass media houses.
186 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah His well-known slogan in office is his ‘Transformation Agenda’. Quite a few commentators are inclined to credit him with commitment to transforming the Nigerian political space (Thom-Otuya 2013; Adibe, et al. 2017; Mogues and Olofinbiyi 2018). This is probably because of his gender mainstreaming policy, appointing an unprecedented number of women political appointees to highranking cabinet offices of petroleum, finance and economic coordination, and aviation, and the enlistment of young women in the Nigeria Defence Academy (NDA), a total departure from the past when only young men were admitted to the institution. He is also regarded as a transformational leader for granting the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) greater autonomy. In fact, Jonathan underscored his contribution to holding of credible elections when he regarded his insistence on it as a movement whose final destination is electoral justice ( Jonathan 2018). Another area where Jonathan showed commitment to transformation is education. He made a huge investment in Western education for the almajiri (street) children as never before witnessed in Nigeria (Sanubi and Akpotu 2015). He had hardly embarked on the deployment of technology in the war against corruption in the civil service when his tenure lapsed in 2015 and he could not win re-election. Like his predecessors, Jonathan followed laid-down rules when they did not threaten his political leverage or goals, but undermined the bureaucracy of government when they did. For example, he allowed the First Lady, his wife, to exercise powers that undermined the Constitution and other relevant laws of Nigeria, including summoning security agents and denigrating top public officials whom she saw as threats to her husband’s hold on power (Abdullahi 2017; Adeniyi 2017). He also encouraged factionalization in pursuit of his political ambition by supporting the Jonah Jang-led faction of the Governors’ Forum against the Rotimi Amaechi-led faction, even though Rotimi Amaechi clearly won re-election (Abdullahi 2017; Adeniyi 2017).
Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023) Born on 17 December 1942 in Daura, Katsina State, North West Nigeria, Muhammadu Buhari had a tough childhood, having been born as the twentythird child of his father, who died when Buhari was only aged four, and thus was trained by his mother, Zulaihat. Buhari’s father was a Fulani while his mother was a Kanuri. In 1961, Buhari enrolled in the Nigerian Military Training College at the age of nineteen. At the end of his seven-month basic military training, he proceeded to officer training at Mons Officer Cadet School in Aldershot, UK from 1962 to 1963, and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in 1963. Buhari steadily rose to reach the rank of Major General in the Nigerian Army. During the Murtala Mohammed regime, Buhari was appointed the
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 187 Military Governor of the North Eastern State in 1975. After the tragic death of Murtala Mohammed, upon becoming the Head of State, Olusegun Obasanjo appointed Buhari as Federal Commissioner of Petroleum and Natural Resources, a post he held up to the handing over to the democratically elected government of President Shehu Shagari. Unlike his other military colleagues who held political offices, Buhari was not retired from the Army but rather appointed the GOC 4th Infantry Division in 1980, GOC 2nd Mechanized Infantry Division, 1981, and GOC 3rd Armoured Division from October 1981 to December 1983. When the government of Shagari was ousted through a military coup on 31 December 1983, Buhari assumed leadership as the Head of State of Nigeria from 1983 to 1985 when in turn, he was overthrown by General Ibrahim Babangida. Buhari contested and lost in elections to be President of Nigeria in 2003, 2007, and 2011. He finally succeeded in 2015 through an alliance of his North West base and the Yoruba South West in the first ever successful merger of political parties in Nigeria (Action Congress of Nigeria and All Nigeria Peoples Party). His greatest selling points were his perceived anti-corruption stance and capacity to arrest the deteriorating security situation in Nigeria based on his military background. It is apparent from more than seven years in office that Major-General Buhari did not share the same perceptions as the small victim community, intelligentsia, state, and national public of security threats to the
Figure 7.6. President Buhari hosting former President Jonathan at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa (Photo courtesy of the Nigerian Tribune, Ibadan, Nigeria).
188 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah Nigerian public at various levels, when criminality was repeatedly inflicted on individuals and communities throughout Nigeria without an effective response from his government. So, there is reason to believe that banditry, kidnapping and similar purveyors of insecurity, proof of the palpable variance between Buhari’s concept of security threat and the experience of insecurity by Nigerians, were part of his hidden political agenda. Amid brutal, barbaric and humiliating insecurity, state agents in the Police and Federal Road Safety Corps ambushed impoverished ordinary Nigerians on street corners and insecure spots of public highways demanding a perfection that the Federal Government they represent does not have. As Professor Kingsley Moghalu puts it, the objective of security architecture under President Buhari seen from the domination of security agencies by his section of the country was ‘regime protection’ not protection of society (Africa Independent Television [AIT] ‘Perspectives’ programme monitored in Ibadan on 18 November 2021). Military leaders are always associated with imperial and dictatorial tendencies. When Buhari became a civilian president on 29 May 2015, everyone chorused how the ‘fear’ of Buhari was the beginning of wisdom for corrupt politicians. In fact, in the early period of his ascension to power, it was widely believed that Buhari’s body language immediately made things to work and was thought would bring some order to bear in the conduct of public affairs. So, politicians began to go to self-exile for fear of Buhari, especially after the arrest and detention of the National Security Adviser (NSA) to President Goodluck Jonathan, Colonel Sambo Dasuki (rtd), on allegations of misappropriation of the security funds intended for the acquisition of weapons to fight Boko Haram. The selective arrests and incarcerations of political figures on allegations of corruption, and the political troubles visited on the Senate President, Senator Bukola Saraki immediately after the new government was formed, among other harassments of opposition figures by the EFCC and other security agencies, exposed Buhari as a leader who used intimidation as a political tool. The height of this style of leadership was the abrupt removal of the Chief Justice of Nigeria, Justice Walter Onnoghen on allegation of improper documentation of his assets at the Code of Conduct Bureau. Similarly, the invasion of the National Assembly by hooded security agents, the invasion of the houses of federal lawmakers who were opposed to the political decisions of the president and the withdrawal of security protection from some political figures who opposed the president in the run up to the 2019 general elections are testaments to the use of intimidation under the Buhari administration to achieve its political objectives and goals. Like Obasanjo, Buhari is fondly referred to as Baba, accentuating his patriarchal status in Nigeria. But Buhari’s patriarchal disposition manifested
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 189 negatively in his approach to issues that require negotiation, appeasement, and willingness to dialogue with opposition elements; relating with citizens from his Olympian heights and rejecting public demand to know his mind on crucial national issues. So, in times of crises when his voice was expected to be heard, he either chose to ignore the call from citizens to address them or expected that they understood from his body language. For example, during the massive protests against the Special Anti-Robbery Squad, code-named SARS, which drew international attention, the President chose not to address the nation on the protests for weeks. The only utterances heard around him were those by his appointed spokespersons – Femi Adesina and Shehu Garba. Buhari had to change his views about political relationships as the realities of politicking and the veracities of democratic governance required alignments, realignments, and compromises. Prior to winning the elections, Buhari had to reconcile with so many actors in the Nigerian political space. This was necessary to assuage the doubts of most Nigerian politicians who feared that he would descend on them, having been reputed to have done so when he was a military leader. Hence, his party chieftains accompanied him around the country to solicit support for his election. Even at that, upon assumption of office, President Buhari had challenges with the style of relating with other arms of government, especially the National Assembly, even though his party, the APC, dominated the legislature. Also, the judiciary had a rocky relationship with the style adopted in addressing the challenge of corruption in the judiciary, but Buhari managed to get the support of both arms of government to work with the executive in passing bills, supporting executive orders, and taking actions that allowed his regime to fight corruption (Paden 2016). President Buhari’s long delay in naming his cabinet when he assumed office in 2015 was a pointer to the country having a leader with little regard for democratic procedure. In fact, he had famously described the roles of some cabinet ministers as political ‘noise makers’ that have no serious impact on governance. When he did appoint his cabinet, there were serious concerns about the experience or suitability of the people he appointed to certain offices that required great skills, intellectual capacity, and youthful dynamism. An example was the appointment of Babachir Lawal as the Secretary to the Government of the Federation (SGF). Mr Lawal’s mismanagement of funds for the internally displaced persons in the North East and his subsequent removal from office attest to the validity of the doubts about his appointment. Similarly, Buhari’s decision to allow military chiefs to overstay their service years amid a worsening security situation in Nigeria, and violations of the ‘federal character’ principle in political appointments exemplify his disregard for national security and nation building.
190 Aliyu Modibbo-Umar and V. Adefemi Isumonah President Buhari came to office with unprecedented national and international goodwill. Unfortunately, through the (absence of ) substance and style of leadership, he squandered the goodwill. A newspaper editorial captured the disappointment that Buhari constituted for most Nigerians: If there is any assumption Nigerians made in the run up to the 2015 general elections, it is that given his experience and the long years spent seeking for the office, General Buhari is uniquely placed to run, perhaps, the most competent, organized and corrupt-free [sic.] administration in Nigeria’s history. However, two years after the PDP’s defeat [and] since ascending to the presidency, President Buhari has proved Nigerians wrong by running perhaps the most lethargic, chaotic, incompetent – and as it’s now increasingly becoming obvious, a corrupt administration wrought with infighting, confusing, contest for power and authority and a shocking lack of grasp of the fundamentals of governance and administration. (BusinessDay online 17 October 2017, quoted in LeVan 2019: 217)
President Buhari for many of his critics became the classic Nero, fiddling while Rome burns. In the face of collapsing economy, general insecurity, human rights abuses, terrorism, and separatist agitations, Buhari remained aloof and even unconcerned. The frustration at ‘Buhari’s lack of urgency’, as the Council on Foreign Relations’ Senior Fellow, Ebenezer Obadare (2022c) puts it, ‘and the authorities’ continued failure to find an answer to the bloodletting in the country’ provoked opposition senators of the opposition PDP to give Buhari a six-week ultimatum to find a solution to the worsening insecurity or face impeachment. The ultimatum only attracted condemnation by Buhari’s aides. As his second term came to an end in 2023, significant voices across the country were in agreement that the country had never experienced such a combination of political, economic, and security failures since the end of the civil war as it did under the leadership of Buhari.
Conclusion Nigeria’s developmental problems are fundamental because they require a radical and integrated approach, as they are common knowledge because they are part of daily life experience of Nigerians that need no difficult diagnosis. But the leadership styles of the four presidents of Nigeria since the inauguration of the Fourth Republic in 1999 gave no evidence of an integrated approach to governance and development. There is so much inaction on the part of those vested with the highest state authority. It is as if Nigeria is not in a hurry to develop while successive generations are, to borrow Professor Soyinka’s word, wasted. It is instructive that it took President Buhari, who sought presidential power for twelve years, six months to constitute his cabinet,
Presidential Leadership Styles in the Fourth Republic 191 required for government business. When he did, it was a circulation of old political elites whom he did not need so much time to identify in order to form a team. In his 1999 independence address to the nation, President Obasanjo declared that ‘we have only ourselves to conquer’. He apparently meant that Nigerians have no threat of natural disasters, extreme weather conditions and other environmental challenges to worry about. By the same token, he also probably meant that Nigerians are themselves the greatest obstacle to their progress and development. As it turned out, this perceptive analysis of Nigeria’s development challenge was more for entertainment than a call on his leadership for action. It was mere rhetoric! It is not surprising that he contradicted himself in the same national address when he offered Nigeria no dream. As he put it, ‘it is not Nigeria’s aspiration to go to the moon’. Thus, ordinary problems quickly become Nigerians’ master because the political leadership is content with crooning in its class privilege and conspicuous consumption of imported goods. As seen from the foregoing, crass political survival and not statesmanship defined the relations of Presidents Obasanjo, Jonathan, and Buhari with some political actors or opponents. With experience in highest political office of the land as in the cases of Presidents Obasanjo and Buhari, no previous political experience at a very high level as in the case of President Yar’Adua, and to a much less extent as in the case of President Jonathan, Nigeria has not much to show in the promise of rapid development. The Nigerian political culture has enabled politicians to pursue self-serving interests. So, politicians have changed party affiliation indiscriminately without backlashes from the electorate some of whom moved with them. (See the Introduction to this volume for some examples.) A neighbour of one of the authors (Isumonah) and politician related a story of a fellow politician whom he asked why politicians are fond of decamping to the ruling party, who replied: ‘If patronage ends in one side, one moves to wherever else there is patronage’ (translation). On the other hand, Nigeria’s ‘democratic movement lacks depth because it does not express the interests of the masses who have the greatest stake in democratic governance’ (Ake 200: 35). Ake continues, the masses are ‘not often conscious politically. When they are, they may direct their political consciousness to the support of the political elite who exploit them.’ Under such circumstances, presidents have been able to ‘take’ rather than win elections. Finally, an examination of the styles of the four presidents in the Fourth Republic clearly proves the need to deepen the democratic culture of rule of law, free and fair elections, individual liberty, and freedom of the press in order to ensure that Nigeria’s democratic future will not be absolutely subjected to the personalities and leadership styles of the incumbent.
8 Double Standards or Different Lenses? Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments MATTHEW T. PAGE
In June 1998, Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs Susan Rice testified before Congress, telling lawmakers the reasons why US-Nigeria relations had soured over the previous five years: It is no secret that there have been serious strains in U.S.-Nigerian relations in recent times … Misguided policies, mismanagement and corruption have stifled Nigeria’s economy. Basic human rights, including freedom of speech and assembly, have been trampled upon … Moreover, the Nigerian Government detained pro-democracy leaders and political figures who were critical of the government … human rights activists and journalists. Military tribunals denied due process to political and other prisoners, prompting both the United Nations General Assembly and the U.N. Human Rights Commission to condemn the Nigerian government and call upon it to respect fundamental human rights and restore civilian rule. (Rice 1998: 11)
More than two decades later, Rice’s assessment of Nigerian state behaviours during Sani Abacha’s military regime (1993–1998) is all too familiar. Under the civilian government of President Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023), ‘misguided policies, mismanagement and corruption’ remained the norm. Although nominally a democracy, Nigerian elections have become exercises in competitive rigging, and government efforts to stifle free speech and target its critics have intensified. Like the Abacha regime, the Buhari government has not hesitated to infringe on Nigerians’ constitutionally protected freedoms, and commits gross human rights violations with impunity, as its violent crackdown on the 2020 #EndSARS protests illustrates.
Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments 193 Yet despite these parallels, Nigeria’s relations with the international community generally – and the United States specifically – remain relatively unperturbed. Under Buhari, state abuses and norm-breaking have not sparked the same degree of international outcry nor attracted the sanctions they did during the Abacha period. Indeed, the United States has hosted Buhari at the White House twice, approved controversial arms sales to his government and shied away from criticizing its governance failures, democratic backsliding, and human rights abuses. Structured in three sections, this chapter seeks to explain this apparent inconsistency in US foreign policy approaches to Nigeria. In the first section, it argues that the conduct of the Buhari government and the Abacha regime is very much analogous in three areas traditionally prioritized by US foreign policy makers: democracy, human rights, and corruption. It argues that, while Abacha’s Nigeria and Buhari’s Nigeria are separated by more than two decades and differ in several important respects, they bear a strong resemblance in many others – especially to outside observers. Building on this argument, the second section details how the United States – which was quick to castigate the Abacha regime when it broke international norms – has tolerated similar behaviour by successive civilian administrations, including the Buhari government. It goes on to provide three reasons for this apparent cognitive dissonance infused into US policy towards Nigeria, highlighting how perceived security and economic interests have eclipsed democracy, governance and human rights concerns. This chapter concludes with a discussion of how US-Nigeria policy would be better served if it embraced a more strategic, values-based approach. Rather than suggesting that Washington should have been treating the Buhari administration as an international pariah, this section argues that the United States’ long-term strategic interests – and the Nigerian people – are weakened by foreign policy approaches that are inconsistent, short-sighted, and make damaging trade-offs at the expense of democracy, good governance, and human rights.
Then and Now: Looking at Nigeria Through the US Policy Lens The US-Nigeria relationship is a highly strategic and important one for top officials in both countries. Since the end of the Cold War, US policy makers have come to see Nigeria as ‘probably the most strategically important country in sub-Saharan Africa’ (Carson 2012). During the Abacha era, Washington
194 Matthew T. Page focused its attention on democracy and governance issues in Nigeria. Following the country’s 1999 return to civilian rule, US policy focus shifted towards security and stability challenges such as Niger Delta militancy (2000–2009) and the Boko Haram insurgency (2009 to date). This section looks at three long-standing US strategic interests in Nigeria – democracy, human rights, and corruption – that were somewhat eclipsed by this shift. It argues that, in many respects, Abacha’s Nigeria and Buhari’s Nigeria have comparable track records in these areas and therefore should – in theory – be seen through a similar lens by US diplomats and policy makers.
Democracy More than two decades after the end of military rule, Nigeria still substantively lacks many of the key characteristics that define even aspiring or partial democracies. While much more competitive, multipolar, and civilian-run than it was under Abacha – a military dictator – Nigeria remains an electocracy that exhibits many characteristics of partial authoritarian systems (Freedom House 2020). Nigeria’s civilian head of state still wields broad, unchecked powers – both de jure and de facto – not unlike those enjoyed by his uniformed predecessors. To demonstrate these points, this section looks at Nigeria’s democratic trajectory since the Abacha era in terms of three shared indicators: the role of political parties, judicial independence, and media and civil society freedom.
Political parties There are of course clear differences between the way political parties function now the way they did during the mid-1990s. Party political activity reached a nadir in the period after Abacha seized power as he set about banning all political activity, targeting opposition figures, repressing civil society organizations and stifling free speech (US Department of State 1998). Abacha then rebooted civilian political activity on his terms when he began a halting and carefully manipulated ‘democratic’ transition process intended to install himself as Nigeria’s civilian president via ‘self-succession’. He created five pro-Abacha parties – famously described by Bola Ige as ‘five fingers of a leprous hand’ – for his loyalists while simultaneously blackballing those politicians who might oppose his plans. The parties then ‘competed’ in heavily stage-managed local and legislative elections: the first two acts in a transition cut short by Abacha’s sudden death in June 1998. Two decades later, Nigeria’s political landscape is much more competitive, dominated though it is by two opposing national coalitions: the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) and its main opponent – the Peoples Democratic
Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments 195 Party (PDP). Both function as fractious constellations of sub-national patronclient networks, uneasily allied for the purpose of obtaining – or retaining – power. After years of party-swapping (‘cross carpeting’) by opportunistic politicians, both parties have lost any real identifying characteristics and now share much the same political DNA. Neither party chooses its candidates fairly or openly, nor possesses a particularly coherent or compelling policy platform (IRI 2020: 2). Both rely on stolen public funds – rather than grassroots donations – to fuel their ambitions (Olorunmola 2016: 3). They also use vote buying, thuggery, intimidation ,and other rigging tactics to sway election outcomes. In all of these respects, today’s APC and PDP closely resemble the ‘leprous fingers’ Abacha used for his 1998 self-succession bid. Although political competition is greater now than it was then, it is unclear if that competition has made Nigeria’s political culture any less bare knuckled, elite-orchestrated or cashfuelled than it was during Abacha’s time. Just like back then, the Nigerian state and its animating force – the ruling party – are more focused on maximising its prebendal opportunities and neutralizing potential opponents than delivering public goods and forging a robust social contract with its citizens. Yet by disguising itself as a democracy, today’s Nigerian state has for the most part inoculated itself against the intense international pressure and proscription it experienced during the Abacha era.
Judicial independence Though somewhat more independent than it was during Abacha’s time, Nigeria’s judiciary remains weak and highly susceptible to political influence. In many respects, the judiciary is still scarred by the damaging disinstitutionalization, manipulation and distortion it suffered during the Abacha period (Amuwo 2001: 5). After all, many Abacha-era judges are still serving in top posts, including most of Nigeria’s current Supreme Court justices. Although Abacha overtly misused and instrumentalised the judiciary as a regime control tool, modern civilian political leaders dominate and manipulate it in similar ways. Instead of using decrees and tribunals to weaken judicial norms, however, today’s powerbrokers rely on an array of informal mechanisms – influence over budgets, appointments and promotions, bribery, intimidation, familial ties – to compromise judicial officeholders. Thus, as one judicial scholar notes: Judicial independence [in Nigeria] remains extremely fragile, implacably assaulted by politicians and corrupt judges … The experience in Nigeria reveals that intolerance, contempt for the judiciary and the desire to
196 Matthew T. Page control and manipulate the judiciary continually swirl within the executive. Elected officials and politicians often push or prod judges to forfeit their impartiality and independence. (Oko 2005: 72–73)
Given this continued ‘desire to control and manipulate’, it is difficult to say that judicial independence has significantly increased since Abacha’s time. Indeed, despite two decades of civilian rule, Nigeria’s judicial independence ranks lower than those of Iran and Russia – two of the world’s most autocratic states (World Economic Forum 2019; Freedom House 2020).
Media and civil society freedoms While the Abacha regime’s treatment of civil society and the media was openly repressive, the Buhari government similarly – but more surreptitiously – took steps to shrink Nigeria’s civic space. Under both leaders, senior officials impeded and denigrated the work of well-established civil society organizations. In 2019, the Buhari government used an Abacha-era tactic, temporarily expelling two respected international humanitarian non-governmental organizations (NGOs) – Mercy Corps and Action Against Hunger – from the country, accusing them of aiding and abetting Boko Haram (Wintour 2019). Both the Abacha and Buhari governments have vilified respected international NGOs such as Amnesty International, and surreptitiously bankrolled a growing stable of pro-government NGOs (Olufemi 2019). In the 1990s, Nigeria’s military rulers used dubious civil society groups such as Youth Earnestly Ask for Abacha and the Association for a Better Nigeria as political proxies. The Buhari government emulated this tactic, using previously unknown NGOs-for-hire to criticize its adversaries, mount protests against international organizations and Western governments, and file politically motivated lawsuits (Njoku 2019). At the same time as it sponsored fake, pro-government NGOs, the Buhari government tried to tighten its control over legitimate civil society groups, press freedoms, and social media. Ruling party legislators have proposed multiple bills seeking to do so since Buhari took office (Carsten 2017a; Kazeem 2020; Orizu 2020). The Committee to Protect Journalists, meanwhile, documented numerous detentions, assaults, and harassment of the press during Buhari’s first term, including the detention of one journalist without charge or access to his family or a lawyer for over two years (Rozen 2019). The Buhari government has also targeted domestic dissidents with travel bans, asset freezes, and summary arrests (Alabi 2020). In the wake of the #EndSARS protests, for example, the Central Bank of Nigeria froze bank accounts belonging to prominent #EndSARS supporters (Essien 2020). At the state level, meanwhile, senior officials routinely use intimidation and violence to silence their critics.
Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments 197
Human rights Both the Abacha and Buhari governments had an egregious human rights record, but in different ways (see Table 8.1). Under Abacha, human rights violations were systematic and overt, but also more targeted. As his regime consolidated power, it arrested scores of dissidents and several prominent
Table 8.1. Comparison of the 1996 and 2019 US Human Rights Reports for Nigeria.
Extrajudicial Killings ‘Police and security services commonly committed extrajudicial killings and used excessive force to quell antigovernment and pro-democracy protests’. (1996)
‘There were several reports that the government or its agents committed arbitrary, unlawful, or extrajudicial killings’. (2019)
Torture ‘Detainees frequently die while in custody and there were credible reports that police seeking to extract confessions regularly tortured and beat suspects and that interrogators beat and nearly tortured to death convicted “coup plotters” … Detainees are regularly kept incommunicado for long periods of time’. (1996)
‘The law prohibits the introduction into trials of evidence and confessions obtained through torture. Authorities did not always respect this prohibition and … the Special Antirobbery Squad of the Nigerian Police Force sometimes used torture to extract confessions later used to try suspects’. (2019)
Arbitrary Arrest ‘The regime repeatedly engaged in arbitrary arrest and detention. Police … often hold suspects incommunicado under harsh conditions for extended periods without charge … The Government routinely arrested and detained without charge leading human rights and pro democracy activists’. (1996)
Although the constitution and law prohibit arbitrary arrest and detention, police and security services employed these practices … since 2013 the military arbitrarily arrested and detained – often in unmonitored military detention facilities – thousands of persons in the context of the fight against Boko Haram’. (2019)
198 Matthew T. Page Table 8.1 (continued)
Media Freedom ‘The Government routinely detained human rights monitors, journalists, and political opponents for making or publishing critical statements … security forces also frequently harassed, arrested, and detained journalists for a variety of reasons, including the alleged spreading of false information and stories that exposed the actions of government officials’. (1996)
‘A large and vibrant private domestic press frequently criticized the government, but critics reported being subjected to threats, intimidation, and sometimes violence … Numerous journalists were detained, abducted, or arrested during the year and were still deprived of their liberty as of September’. (2019)
Civil Society ‘The Government permitted local human rights groups to operate but often interfered with their activities, detaining their members and preventing them from criticizing the Government’s human rights record … High-level government officials regularly denounced the activities of Nigeria’s human rights community, often accusing its members and the independent press of participating in foreign-inspired plots to destabilize the country’. (1996)
‘Domestic and international human rights groups generally operated without government restriction, investigating and publishing their findings on human rights cases. Government officials sometimes cooperated and responded to their views, but generally dismissed allegations quickly without investigation. In some cases the military threatened NGOs and humanitarian organizations’. (2019)
(Sources: US Department of State 1997); (US Department of State 2020a)
political figures, cracking down on pro-democracy protests following the annulment of the 1993 election. It methodically stifled dissent through a combination of repression and inducement, relying on an ‘Orwellian intelligence network’ and assassination squads in a way that made Abacha ‘the most feared head of state in Nigeria’s history’ (Siollun 2019: 129). Abacha’s unwillingness to moderate or even conceal his regime’s human rights abuses supercharged international and domestic opposition to it.
Comparing US Approaches to the Buhari and Abacha Governments 199 Under Buhari, the Nigerian state perpetrated more extra-judicial killings than it did under Abacha, but has done so in a less targeted and more indiscriminate way. This shift is a result of several factors including: weak civilian oversight over the military; long-running failures to independently investigate human rights abuses and hold those responsible accountable; extraordinary pressures placed on front-line troops by spiralling security threats; unchecked corruption that left the security sector chronically under-resourced and deprofessionalized; and security forces’ routine use of mass detentions, vigilantes, reprisal attacks, and collective punishment. Like the Abacha regime, the Buhari government vehemently pushed back on criticism of his government’s human rights record. After soldiers opened fire on unarmed #EndSARs protestors at the Lekki Tollgate in October 2020, killing dozens of innocent civilians, Buhari gave an unrepentant speech that warned against future protests and warning the international community against ‘rushing to judgment’ or ‘making hasty announcements’ (Buhari 2020). Following the 2015 Zaria massacre (see Table 8.2), he took no action and cast blame on the victims for ‘hitting the chest of generals’ and ‘creating a state within state’ (Lere 2015). In August 2016, Buhari stated that he would take an ‘appropriate response’ to the incident, but has since done nothing (Premium Times 2016).
Corruption On the issue of corruption, prevailing narratives surrounding Abacha and Buhari could not be more different. Abacha has gone down in history as the archetypal kleptocrat – someone whose premature death exposed of a trail of stolen funds that extended around the world. His ‘predatory autocracy’ plundered the economy, deepened the country’s international isolation and led to the rapid deterioration of public functions (Lewis 2003: 117). Over the last two decades, the international community has identified, seized, and repatriated roughly $4.6 billion in ‘Abacha loot’ ( Jimoh, et al. 2020). Abacha’s loyalists and underlings almost certainly pilfered billions more, much of which will never be recovered. Buhari, in contrast, is often portrayed as an anti-corruption crusader. In reality, however, his track record defies simple categorization (CDD 2020). Having promised to make the fight against corruption one of his top policy priorities, Buhari empowered Nigeria’s anti-corruption bodies, enabling them to record a number of convictions and asset seizures since he took office. He also pushed government ministries and agencies to use the Treasury Single Account, ending their use of unsupervised off-book bank accounts.
Table 8.2. Comparison of Extra-Judicial Killings by Abacha and Buhari Governments.
Date and Description of Incident
Est. Dead
ABACHA PERIOD 1994–1995: The Internal Security Task Force carried out punitive 100+ raids on ethnic Ogoni villages in Rivers State, resulting in widespread human rights violations (Human Rights Watch 1995). 1993–1998: The Abacha government – or its proxies – carried out