Thoughts on the 2003 Presidential Elections By

Thoughts on the 2003 Presidential Elections

By

Politics, properly understood, is concerned with two large questions: the best form of the State, and the source and ends of its powers. Let me explain. A country run by a despotic gang of soldiers where the bulk of the citizenry are strongly desirous of a democratic form of government is not likely to make progress. This is because the political leadership is considered illegitimate in the eyes of the ruled, and who would, with time, withdraw their support. Economic prosperity and social order are the foundations of a successful nation, and these two necessities can only be delivered by a patriotic and contented citizenry. Take the citizens away from the political arena and what you are most likely to have is an empty shell in the name of a 'country,' the sort that General Babangida and after him, Abacha, presided over in the 1990s. It is for this reason that political philosophers down the ages have been exercised by the question: What is the best form of State that can deliver prosperity and social order?

As to the second question regarding the source and purpose of political power, wise state-builders in pre-colonial Africa recognised that consensual democracy was the best form of government. A society where the mass of the people are involved in the making of policy that affect their daily social and economic life is likely to be a happy and contented one. The people will be happy for the simple reason that nobody, given the opportunity, will take decisions that he knows when implemented will reduce him to penury. This is why unbridled dictatorship did not thrive for long anywhere on African soil before European carpet baggers came calling with their Maxim guns at the turn of the 20th century. Military dictatorship as we know it today, is the child of Frederick Lugard and his band of colonising thugs. Illegitimate power breeds self-serving policy, the sort that Babangida, Abacha, and Abubakar pursued that made them dollar billionaires at the expense of millions of starving Nigerian children. Poverty, spawned by self-serving power, breeds revolt. And where there is revolt and anarchy, the seeds of prosperity cannot take root.

My favourite African leader today is Thabo Mbeki, President of South Africa. He is one leader, after the generation of the Azikiwes, Nkrumahs, and the Nyereres, who is seriously engaging the two large issues I raised in the beginning of this essay. South Africa, never mind the petty quibbling of such white-run newspapers as the Mail & Guardian, is a thriving democracy. It is so today because the likes of Thabo Mbeki and his predecessor in office, Nelson Mandela, devoted their entire lives to realising the vision of the intrepid statesmen of pre-colonial Africa: that the best form of government is that where the views of the majority of the people, irrespective of colour, must provide the foundation on which the State is built. South Africa is not yet a 'perfect' democracy.

There is no such thing; nor, indeed, should we expect instant perfection given the gargantuan social and economic problems President Mbeki is contending with after the long night of apartheid.

President Mbeki is seriously exercised by the ends of power. He is the author of the African Renaissance Project, which, animated by the vision of a once powerful and self-reliant Africa for which ancient Egypt and the Songhai Empire are classic exemplars, seeks to return the continent and her suffering peoples to their former glory. Mbeki, together with President Olusegun Obasanjo of Nigeria, are the minds behind the ambitious New Economic Partnership for Africa (NEPAD). I have my reservations concerning NePad, more so as it is informed by right-wing Neo-liberal thinking that counsels the poor of the world to wait for that happy day when the rich and powerful have stuffed themselves full and then let them have the left-over. Still, a politico-economic project underpinned by a clear philosophical system, albeit a wrong-headed one, is better than none.

Mbeki, I contend, has his heart in the right place, even if his method of returning the African to the political and economic centre of his continent appears questionable.

These thoughts - the best State and the ends of power - always come to my mind when I consider the forthcoming presidential elections in Nigeria. Nigeria is not a perfect democracy - yet. As I said, there is no such thing. But at least we know the source of President Obasanjo's authority. He was elected to office in May 1999, to the extent that his party, PDP, was able to fiddle the polls. The two other parties, APP and AD, also rigged. It was a matter of 'My rigging was more effective than yours.' The point here is that at least the various contenders have progressed politically to concede to the rest of us that they can no longer impose themselves on the citizenry with the barrel of the gun.

That, I tell you, is progress, modest as it is. Concerning what best form of state is appropriate for Nigeria, well, the political class is still fiddling in their palatial homes in Asokoro while the forces of disintegration are gathering strength elsewhere. It was Tony Blair, the British Prime Minister, who, when asked what his strategy was to take Britain to the first rank of prosperous nations, uttered these simple words: 'Education! Education! Education!' For those who would want to see Nigeria realise her manifest destiny as the light of Africa and the world, I urge:

DEVOLUTION! DEVOLUTION! DEVOLUTION! Nigeria is too large and complex a country to be run centrally from Abuja. All thinking Nigerians know this; but our politics is yet to reflect this truism. Policy is also fashioned as though these are still the civil years when Gowon and his 'super' permanent secretaries were masters of all that they surveyed, treating Nigeria as a bargain basement nation-state and her inhabitants supine objects to be acted upon by a superior intelligence nurtured in the quadrangles of Oxford and Cambridge.

The bulk of Nigerians are poor and discontented today because they have been marginalised from the political arena, the all-important public square from which meaningful and sustainable policy must emanate. Of the three registered political parties, only the AD has raised the issue of political devolution seriously, pressing for a new political settlement that will see Nigerians, aggregated in new ethnic and regional communities, participating in public affairs. But the AD has not been unable to transcend Obafemi Awolowo's self-limiting ethnic chauvinism. The party is still stuck in a parochial politics that turns on a mythical Oduduwa and how his descendants might create an exclusive political kingdom for themselves out of Nigeria. It is a frightening prospect, a tribal politics for which all thinking Nigerians have no sympathy. If the AD, the sole champion of political devolution, is so tragically handicapped, what does this say of party politics in Nigeria? What does this say of our politicians and would-be political entrepreneurs who are aspiring to re-dream Nigeria informed by a new political philosophy that will resonate with the deepest yearnings of the majority of our people? Are these thoughts animating the crude manoeuvrings currently afoot as the 2003 presidential elections beckon?

As usual with our newspaper political editors and commentators, the bulk of whom are, in truth, functional illiterates, the brouhaha now is : Is Obasanjo running? Ehn, is Obasanjo running again? Please tell me, is Aremu running again for a second-term? This is what passes for political analysis. As for political reporting and commentary, it goes something like this: 'Race for 2003: The top Contenders.' Then they go on and inflict you with beer parlour gossip: what Babangida told the governor of whatever state that Obasanjo did to him in 1920 and this is the reason he is now determined to see Obasanjo out of power in 2003. When they have run out of gossip, our political editors and commentators resort to abusing individuals and ethnic groups other than their own - like my good friend Reuben Abati of the Guardian. These political editors and commentators never focus on the nature and character of the Nigerian state, its deleterious effects on the citizenry, and the tactics and strategies needed to break the present mould and throw up new political actors capable of securing the happy political kingdom.

Political thought, like political practice in Nigeria, is of appalling low quality. Any wonder then why we are so blest?

April 2002