During the Jonathan administration,
an outspoken opposition spokesperson had argued that Nigeria was on auto-pilot,
a phrase that was gleefully even if ignorantly echoed by an excitable opposition
crowd. Deeper reflection should have made it clear even to the unthinking that
there is no way any country can ever be on auto-pilot, for there are many
levels of governance, all working together and cross-influencing each other to
determine the structure of inputs and outcomes in society. To say that a
country is on auto-pilot is to assume wrongly that the only centre of
governance that exists is the official corridor, whereas governance is far more
complex. The question should be asked, now as then: who is governing Nigeria?
Who is running the country? Why do we blame government alone for our woes,
whereas we share a collective responsibility, and some of the worst violators
of the public space are not even in public office?
The
President of the country is easily the target of every criticism. This is
perhaps understandable to the extent that what we have in Nigeria is the
perfect equivalent of an Imperial Presidency. Whoever is President of Nigeria
wields the powers of life and death, depending on how he uses those enormous
powers attached to his office by the Constitution, convention and expectations.
Nigeria’s President not only governs, he rules. The kind of President that
emerges at any particular time can determine the fortunes of the country. It
helps if the President is driven by a commitment to make a difference, but the
challenge is that every President invariably becomes a prisoner.
He has the
loneliest job in the land, because he is soon taken hostage by officials and
various interests, struggling to exercise aspects of Presidential power
vicariously. And these officials do it right to the minutest detail: they are
the ones who tell the President that he is best thing ever since the invention
of toothpaste. They are the ones who will convince him as to every little
detail of governance: who to meet, where to travel to, and who to suspect or
suspend. The President exercises power, the officials and the partisans in the
corridors exercise influence. But when things go wrong, it is the President
that gets the blame. He is reminded that the buck stops at his desk.
We should
begin to worry about these dangerous officials in the system, particularly
within the public service, the reckless mind readers who exploit the system for
their own ends, and who walk free when the President gets all the blame. To
govern properly, every government not only needs a good man at the top, but
good officials who will serve the country. We are not there yet. The same civil
servants who superintended over the omissions of the past 16 years are the ones
still going up and down today, and it is why something has changed but nothing
has changed. The reality is terrifying.
The
officials at the state levels are no different, from the governor down to the
local government chairman and their staff. They hardly get as much criticism as
the folks in Abuja, but they are busy every day governing Nigeria, and doing so
very badly too. Local government chairmen and their officials do almost
nothing. The governors also try to act as if they are Imperial Majesties. The
emphasis on ceremony rather than actual performance is the bane of governance
in Nigeria. Everyone seems to be obsessed with ceremony and privileges.
A friend
sent me a picture he took with the Mayor of London inside a train, in the midst
of ordinary citizens and asked if that would ever happen in Nigeria. The Mayor
had no bodyguards. He was on his own. In the Netherlands, the Prime Minister is
a part-time lecturer in one of the local colleges. Nigerian pubic officials are
often too busy to have time for normal life. Even if they want to live
normally, the system also makes it impossible. We need people in government
living normal lives. Leaders need not be afraid of the people they govern. They
must identify with them. There is too much royalty in government circles in
Nigeria. No matter how well-intentioned you may be, once you find yourself in
their midst, you will soon start acting and sounding like one, because it is
the only language that is spoken in those corridors.
Elsewhere,
ideas govern countries. People become leaders on the basis of ideas and they
govern with ideas. That is why the average voter in Europe or North America
knows that what he votes for is what he is likely to get. Clearly in the
on-going Presidential nomination process in the United States, every voter
knows the difference between Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton on the
Democratic side and between Ted Cruz and Donald Trump on the Republican side.
Such differences are often blurry in Nigeria: our politics is driven by
partisan interests; a primordial desperation for power, not ideas. It is also
why Nigerian politicians can belong to five different political parties and
movements within a decade.
Even when
men of ideas show up in the political arena, they are quickly reminded that
they are not politicians and do not understand politics. Gross
anti-intellectualism is a major problem that Nigeria would have to address at
some stage. Some of the administrations in the past who had brainy men and
women of ideas in strategic positions ended up not using them. They were either
frustrated, caged, co-opted or forced to adapt or shown the door. The question
is often asked: why don’t such people walk away? The answer that is well known
in official corridors is this: doing so may be a form of suicide. Once inside,
you are not allowed to walk out on the Federal Government of Nigeria, and if
you must, not on your own terms. So, governance fails even at that level of
values: that other important element that governs progressive nations.
Partisan
interests are major factors in the governance process. These seem to be the
dominant factor in Nigeria, but again, they are irresponsibly deployed. The
crowd of political parties, religious groups, traditional rulers, ethnic and
community associations, professional associations, pastors, priests,
traditional rulers, imams and alfas, shamanists, native doctors, soothsayers
and traditional healers: they all govern. They wield enormous influence. But
they have never helped Nigeria and they are not helping. All the people in
public offices have strong links to all these other governors of Nigeria, but
what kind of morality do they discuss? Those with partisan interests, including
even promoters of Non-Governmental groups (NGOs) all have one interest at
heart: power and relevance.
The same
priests who saw grand visions for the PDP and its members over a 16-year period
are still in business seeing visions and making predictions. Those who claim to
be so powerful they can make the lame walk and the blind see have not deemed it
necessary to step forward to help the NNPC turn water into petrol. If any of
these miracle-delivering pastors can just turn the Lagos Lagoon alone into a
river of petrol, all Nigerians will become believers, but that won’t happen
because they are committed to a different version of the gospel. As for the
political parties: they are all in disarray.
The private
sector also governs Nigeria. But what is the quality of governance in the
corporate sector? The Nigerian corporate elite are arrogant. They claim that
they create jobs so the country may prosper, but they are, in reality, a
rent-seeking class. They survive on government patronage, access to the Villa
and its satellites, and claims of indispensability. But without government,
most private sector organisations will be in distress. The withdrawal of public
funds into a Treasury Single Account is a case in point. And with President
Muhammadu Buhari not readily available to the eye-service wing of the Nigerian
private sector, former sycophants in the corridors are clandestinely resorting
to sabotage and blackmail. A responsible private sector has a duty in society:
to build society, not to donate money to politicians during elections and seek patronage
thereafter. And if it must co-operate with government, it must be for much
nobler reasons in the public interest.
The military
are still governing Nigeria too. They may be in the background, but their exit
16 years ago, has not quite translated into a loss of influence or presence. In
the early years of their de-centering, many of them chose to join politics and
replace their uniforms with traditional attires. Their original argument is
that if other professionals can join politics, then a soldier should not be
excluded. They failed to add that the military class in politics in Africa has
shown a tendency to exercise proprietorial rights and powers, which delimit the
democratic project. In Nigeria such powers and rights have been exercised
consistently and mostly by, happily for us, a gerontocratic class, whose
impact, I believe, will be determined by the effluxion of time.
And it is
like this: the President that emerged in 1999 was a soldier: the received
opinion was that only such a strong man could stabilise the country. His
successor was the brother of another old soldier; he and his Deputy were
personally chosen by the departing President. He died in office, but for his
Deputy to succeed him, it helped a lot that he was also a favorite of the General
who chose his own successors. When this protégé fell out with the General, in
retrospect now, a miscalculation, the General turned Godfather swore to remove
him from office. And it happened. In 2015, another former soldier and strong
man had to be brought back to office and power. When anything goes wrong, a
class of old Generals is the one who steps forward to protect and guide the
country. The only saving grace is that they do not yet have a successor–class
of similarly influential men with military pedigree. But when their time
passes, would there be equally strong civilians who can act as protectors of
the nation?
The media
governs too. But the media in Nigeria today is heavily politicised, compromised
and a victim of internal censorship occasioned by hubris. Can the media still
save Nigeria? It is in the same pit as the Nigerian voter, foreign interests,
the legislature and the judiciary. But when there is positive change at all of
these centres of power and influence, only then will there be change, movement
and motion, and a new Nigeria.
Sources: The Guardian and Reuben ABATI
