Reuben Abati
The democratic experience in Nigeria has definitely been a
continuing learning curve, and the more lessons we learn at various
active centres: people, platforms and processes, the richer our
democracy, the stronger the society evolves to deliver a brighter future
for the sovereign.
The greatest residue of our democracy in the last 16 years
(1999–2015), I think, is the manner in which our community has been
enriched by lessons that have practically changed our lives. The
democratic deficit is less than the gain; for us, democracy is
essentially liberative and should endure.
It is partly the reason why no matter the observed shortcomings of
the five-month old Buhari administration, the Nigerian people remain
optimistic about their belief in the viability of the democratic option.
They know that they have been empowered in such a manner that
succeeding governments will always be held accountable to the
electorate. Thus, democracy has reframed the national dialogue and the
people’s expectations.
The greatest residue of our democracy in the last 16 years
(1999–2015), I think, is the manner in which our community has been
enriched by lessons that have practically changed our lives. The
democratic deficit is less than the gain; for us, democracy is
essentially liberative and should endure.
In 1999, with the return to civilian rule, the Nigerian people
secured victory against a military establishment, which had exercised
political authority, formally and informally, for about 33 years. They
fought for six years to insist on democracy and the people’s right to
choose.
Sixteen years later, after many seasons of trial, we have reached a
point in our romance with democracy, whereby no other form of
government appeals to us. It is clear to every discerning person that
only democratic rule is now acceptable to Nigerians. For it has shown
us, how powerful we can possibly be.
No other event has proven this to be true, more concretely than the
last general elections. It should not be lost on Nigerians, the
significance of the removal from office of an incumbent President.
In 2015, the power of the vote turned the Nigerian voter into the
ultimate political authority, resulting in a greater sense of public
ownership of the democratic enterprise. He or she knows that elected
representatives can be held accountable through the ballot box.
Democracy, building on the increased access to information and social
interactions, has thus given Nigerians of voting age a voice and power
that they never imagined possible.
Military figures still show up and occupy high positions, but they
do so only through the democratic process and it is only a matter of
time before the myth of the military strong man being fit for public
office will be completely exploded and laid to rest. In reality, the
military’s political authority is diminished as old soldiers seek
legitimation through the people. It is a great achievement for Nigeria.
Secondly, in 2005, an attempt was made to bypass the Nigerian
Constitution and extend to a third term, the tenure of the then
incumbent President. This alleged plan against the people was to have
been hatched with the imprimatur of the national legislature, but again
the people rose against the planned subterfuge. Pierre Nkurunziza may
have succeeded in executing the same anti-people ploy in Burundi, and
Paul Kagame may be toying with it in Rwanda, but it is not the kind of
folly that anyone will ever try again in Nigeria and hope to succeed.
The people have learnt that those in positions of power at the
highest level may not be trusted to respect the laws of the land or the
oath of office they took. Having stopped one former President from
transforming into a monarch, the phrase – third term remains in our
political lexicon, a reminder of what is constitutionally unacceptable.
And for Nigerians, “stayism”, sit-tightism” or the Biya disease is
definitely risqué. When people are elected to high office, they will not
be allowed to change the rules of the game to suit their own purposes.
Third lesson: Nigerians have become very conscious of the
implications of the health of their leaders for the stability of the
polity. They were taught that lesson during the three-year rule of late
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua. At the time, the key subject was the
mortality of the President.
From that point onwards, any sign that a potential President could
be nursing a terminal disease became a major campaign issue. President
Yar’Adua’s death threw up other sub-lessons about the supremacy of the
Constitution and the right of other Nigerians to aspire to the highest
office in the land, but the people would have preferred to have him
healthily alive and not to have a Presidency dominated by morbidity and
remembered, and excused, largely on that score. It is therefore not
surprising that in the last elections, physical fitness and mortality
became key issues of campaign.
Fourth lesson: that any Nigerian child regardless of the manner of
extraction can aspire to the highest office in the land. With his
emergence as Nigerian President in 2010, Goodluck Jonathan laid to rest
the myth that to occupy that office, the candidate must be a person of
privilege. His parents were ordinary folk. He was himself like the guy
next door; his life a replica of the life of any struggling Nigerian of
his age who had attended university, gone through national service,
hustled for employment and was like the rest of us.
Hitherto, Nigerian leaders had elite connections or bearings and
they wielded authority as if it was their birthright to do so. This
claim to leadership birthright is now a subject of inquiry. It explains
why in the last general elections, it became clear to all and sundry
that there are now certain minimum standards being set nationwide in
terms of personal attributes, experience and exposure with regard to
public office.
That is precisely the way our democracy has turned out: it has
built confidence at all levels, and every Nigerian imagines himself to
be a potential President. This is good, for as many people as imagine
themselves to be national problem-solvers, the better for our community.
However, President Jonathan was the first to prove the point that any
citizen whoever he or she may be, can aspire to the highest office in
the land and receive popular support.
Fifth lesson: When President Goodluck Jonathan conceded victory to
President Buhari after the 2015 elections, he raised the moral bar of
our democratic process. Nigerians have taken to heart the fact that the
people have the power to change a sitting government at all levels and
that the power of incumbency even at the centre is at the mercy of the
electorate.
These days, it is not unusual to find an average Nigerian of voting
age holding an elected person accountable and swearing that any form of
misconduct will be questioned. Good news!
What prevails in Nigeria today therefore is not merely voter
confidence; it is best described as voter arrogance or voter
dictatorship. In Ekiti, they voted out a well educated, cerebral
Governor and replaced him with someone with a popular touch, and they
have stubbornly defended their choice.
In Abuja, they replaced a young Ph.D holder with a retired old man,
called back to serve and “restore.” With the way the Nigerian voter has
seized power in the public sphere, only his or her wishes can prevail.
And so in the future, with the Jonathan example and experience, no
incumbent can hold on to power once the people have spoken.
The Nigerian voter is further empowered by digital revolution. He
votes on election day with his card, but he votes everyday with his
phone, with his access to internet platforms, and he speaks loud and
clear, honestly or mischievously depending on his or her constitution.
The Nigerian people can no longer be ignored. Positive development?
Certainly. But all of what we describe has been made possible by the
strengthening of the electoral institutions and processes.
It is hoped that successive administrations will see the need to
protect and preserve the integrity of electoral bodies, and thereby
deepen emergent confidence in their capacity to deliver free, fair and
credible elections.
Sixth lesson, and this is probably the most important. Nigerians
have learnt after 16 years of democratic rule not to place implicit
trust in politicians without asking for accountability. They know that
professional politicians are capable of lies, they deceive, they
over-promise in order to secure their mandate, and also, that there are
no true saints in power-ville.
They are also learning that election campaign is different from
governance, that governance is complex, politics is treacherous, and
that politicians will say anything to win the votes and get into power. A
corollary lesson: to resolve the cleavages that trouble Nigeria and
render institutions ineffectual, government must be effective and our
democracy must become more liberal and less of a mechanism for class
formation and ethnic competition.
Five months of reverse ratiocination by the Buhari administration
should make that clear even to the most naive. The people should also
know that politicians have no differences on matters of self-interest;
and they choose to exploit our many fault lines to achieve their
objectives.
They can be in this party today and move to the other party
tomorrow – which we may see again in 2019. Nigerian politics is
therefore not about ideology or principles; it is about power and who
gets into the arena.
But the people have also learnt one more thing: that change is
possible, no matter the shape. And the power to effect change lies in
their hands, for we have in 16 years managed to create a citizenry that
is both deliberative and participative, whose notion of the state is
that it must be affirmative, competent and constructive. This is a major
victory for Nigeria and for democracy.