The Yorubas: Between Madunagu and Abati

by

Sanusi L. Sanusi

 

Dr. Edwin Madunagu’s article (Nigeria’s ethnic militias, The Guardian 2nd November, 2000) was, as usual, a brilliant and incisive analysis, from the writer’s perspective, of the Nigerian polity and recent developments within it. Several aspects of the analysis will hopefully be the subject of rich discourse, particularly on the necessity or even desirability and efficacy of a sovereign national conference and the implication of not having one. Of interest to me in this paper is the link Madunagu draws between the carnage and brigandage unleashed by the OPC in Lagos and an earlier riot in Ilorin. Madunagu correctly presents the OPC argument that Ilorin is a bastion of "Fulani Colonialism" and also repeats, perhaps supports, the notion that the problem in Ilorin is a somewhat legitimate struggle for liberation from "internal colonialism". A number of foreign and local newspapers had earlier traced the root of the Lagos crisis to the hiccup in Ilorin, although no one before Madunagu, had given this link the brilliant articulation which has the almost magical effect of establishing an automatic and logical connectivity between the two incidents at the level of a common idea – i.e. the idea of decolonization.

The very next day, Reuben Abati published an article, The troubled house of Oduduwa, in the same newspaper. This time, it was an analysis of the problems faced by Yoruba politicians particularly the intra-party crisis in the AD. On a superficial reading, the two articles are not intimately connected. In reality they are. Both articles constituted an attempt to develop a coherent and general framework for explaining historically specific occurrences.The great 19th century German historian, Leopold von Ranke, had held that the historian’s task is to say wie es eigentlich gewesen (how it essentially was).It has since become clear to academics that a mere narrative is not enough. The historian should be, as argued by Edward Carr, " not really interested in the unique, but in what is general in the unique." Therein lies the connection (and the brilliance) of both articles. Madunagu starts from a unique episode and generalizes it into a struggle for liberation. Abati starts from the unique and draws general conclusions about the character of the Yoruba and the secret of their failure in Nigerian politics. I intend to argue that in spite of my respect for the quality of both articles, Madunagu’s thesis has fundamental flaws brought to stark relief by Abati’s. I will also suggest that the solution to the predicament of Yorubas in Nigeria lies in listening to the bitter truths spoken by Abati, reassessing their own worth and that of their opponents and addressing identified flaws in their mental make-up and attitudes rather than blaming Fulani colonialists, an attitude which can find ideological props in Madunagu’s thesis but which, ultimately , will only further postpone the day of reckoning when the Yoruba will have to face this reality: That the Yoruba, and the Yoruba alone, are responsible for their political misfortunes.

Madunagu’s thesis, I will argue, is based on a false premise. The problem in Ilorin is not primarily one at a par with, say the problems faced by Niger–Delta people under the Igbo, or the mid-westerners under the Yoruba or even the Christians of Kaduna under the emirates. It is not about liberating Yoruba, or other masses, from feudalism or, as he says, "internal colonialism", but about establishing the Yoruba, or rather the descendants of Afonja, as the rightful wielders of traditional authority rather than the Fulani, or to be specific, the descendants of Alimi. This distinction, between a power-struggle waged by one faction of feudalists against another in which ethnicity is a major and definitive instrument on the one hand and a legitimate struggle based on the principle of liberation, even ethnic liberation, on the other, must be maintained. To shed blood in the name of the latter may be excused as a necessary tool in a popular nationalist struggle. To do so in the name of the former is to commit murder and genocide. The danger in Madunagu’s thesis is that, in the understandable desire to present a coherent and logical explanation to developments in the political economy, it may confer dubious coherence and credibility to incoherent and mindless actions, driven more by ethnic hatred, blind ambition and myopic triumphalism, than by an articulate and honest assessment of legitimate rights. It is similar to supporting the claims of the various factions of the Nigerian elite each of which claims that if it has a sufficiently large share of the national loot then its "people" are not marginalized.

The struggle in Ilorin is between descendants of two men, Afonja and Alimi, who lived in Ilorin at the turn of the 19th century. It is a case of rival claims as to which of the two factions has the legitimate right to rule Ilorin. This one question is best answered by reference to history, and by applying the laws applicable to society at that point in time. The parties to this dispute are aware of this, which is why the Yoruba have actually descended to the level of distorting historical facts and fabricating fables about what transpired between Afonja and Alimi.

A classic narration of this fairy tale can be found in the Sunday Vanguard of 22nd October 2000, under the title "How Afonja lost the throne". Referring to unnamed "historical sources, tracing the story to the 19th century", the article presents Alimi as a Fulani scholar, a "tenant" of Afonja’s, who helped Afonja mobilize an army to fight against the Alaafin. Alimi, it is said, became "teacher to Afonja’s children" and "when both died, Alimi’s son Abdulsalam, inherited his father’s duty of teaching Afonja’s children:. It is then suggested that Alimi’s son "who had military support from his Fulani kinsmen" opposed Afonja’s eldest child and stopped him from becoming ruler of Ilorin. Now if the facts were indeed as stated above, it would seem that the descendants of Afonja have a basis for feeling aggrieved at what they call "palace coup" or "treachery" on the part of their ancestor’s "tenant". There are however, other versions of the story, given by more credible sources and more appealing to the intellect.

I rely in my analysis of the story of Alimi and Afonja on an article "Yorubaland in the nineteenth century" written by two prominent Yoruba historians, J. F. A. Ajayi and S. A. Akintoye and published in Obaro Ikime (ed.) Groundwork of Nigerian History (pp. 280-301). Before analyzing the facts, let me present them in the authors’ own words:

"Challenges to the authority of the Alaafin in the second half of the eighteenth century by leading civil and military chiefs were signs of internal instability. At first, the revolt of the Afonja, the Are-ona Kakanfo, head of the cavalry force, appeared to be just another one of such challenges. He set about building up Ilorin where he was based as an independent town. In his rebellion, he received the support of the other leading chiefs at Oyo who had their own grievances against the Alaafin. He also received the support of a few provincial rulers. As the initial efforts to suppress this rebellion failed, other chiefs followed his example. Afonja also had the support of a few Muslims, led by Alimi a Fulani cleric who incited a revolt of the Hausa slaves on whom the care of the horses and the strength of the cavalry force depended. With the aid of the few chiefs, Yoruba Muslims, the Fulani and Hausa slaves, Afonja sustained his rebellion and proceeded to bring other parts of the kingdom under his control. Within a short while, however, Afonja fell out with his Fulani allies. He refused to become a Muslim. He complained about the excesses of the freed slaves and tried to discipline them, only to discover that he was no longer in command. Thus ensued the contest for the control of Ilorin. Afonja was defeated and killed (c.1823-24). The Yoruba Muslims led by Solagberu also failed in their bid to control the town. The Fulani emerged as the controllers of Ilorin and Ilorin became an outpost of Sokoto Caliphate".

The following facts are clear from the record above. First, although Afonja was based in Ilorin, he was the Kakanfo of the Alaafin of Oyo. When he led a rebellion against the Alaafin and took away a part of the kingdom, his legitimate right to rule Ilorin was established by his capacity to maintain his hold on the town and repel the forces of the Alaafin. Afonja’s act is considered an act of treachery among the Yorubas and the culmination of a process, which led to the final disintegration of the great Oyo Empire. If Alimi, a Fulani Muslim who took power from a Yoruba chief of separate faith is seen as a traitor, Afonja, the agent of the Alaafin who betrayed the kingdom was a bigger traitor. If the descendants of Alimi are to lose their right to rule Ilorin on account of "treachery", the descendants of Afonja, a fortiori, also forfeit that right and revert to their status as subjects of the Alaafin.

Second, that far from being a "tenant" who was protected by Afonja, Alimi was an ally, nay, the backbone of the rebellion. I have italicized the quote, which shows he was the force behind the rebellion of the Hausa slaves who were "the strength of the cavalry force". To understand the significance of this phrase, we go back to the words of these writers in the same article, explaining the secret behind the emergence of Oyo as the most successful Yoruba Kingdom. They wrote: "Taking advantage of its location, it built up a cavalry force which gave it dominance not only throughout the Oyo area, but also over the neighbouring parts of Borgu and Nupe, over Egbaland and Egbado, as well as over Dahomey and Porto Novo".(p.281) Clearly if the Hausa slaves were, as confirmed by Ajayi and Akintoye "the strength of the cavalry force", and if again as confirmed by them, they were controlled by Alimi, then Alimi was the true force that won the battle of Ilorin, not Afonja.

Third, Alimi and Afonja fought a battle, which Alimi won and in which Afonja was killed. Subsequently, the Muslim Yoruba under Solagberu also fought to regain control of Ilorin and were defeated. In other words, Alimi and his forces defeated, in succession, the forces of the Alaafin, of Afonja and of Solagberu. Those who claim the right to rule Ilorin today are descendants of the vanquished party. Whereas Afonja’s lineage never ruled Ilorin, the descendants of Alimi have ruled the town for almost one hundred and eighty years! What is unfolding today, is an attempt by descendants of those fairly and squarely defeated in war to claim, through blackmail, falsehood and genocide that which, in their delusion, they pretend to be their right. It is not an accident that the leader of Afonja Descendants’ Union, Olola Kasumu, is also the leader of OPC in Kwara. The problem in Ilorin did not involve in the main, Ilorin indigenes. OPC area-boys were "imported" from Lagos and other parts of the South-West, to foment trouble and implement by force what Afenifere had failed to convince Kwarans to accept – their excision from the historical bloc of the caliphate. For a people who have more lawyers, philosophers, historians etc. than other Nigerian groups, the Yoruba are doing a good job of ignoring a universal dictum: ex nihilo nihil fit (out of nothing, nothing springs).

We are now able to see where Madunagu went wrong. I have no problem with the principle of focusing on what is general in the unique. But the unique itself from which we generalize has to be, in Ranke’s words, wie es eigentlich gewesen , how it essentially was. We now turn to Reuben Abati.

Without repeating Abati’s arguments verbatim, let us recognize that , by quoting historical sources he took off from much firmer ground than Madunagu. Madunagu’s analysis was brilliant but, as we have shown, based on the claims made by the OPC rather than on the facts, as they essentially were. Abati takes off from sound facts and ends up with more valid and practically relevant generalizations. Prime among them are the following.

Abati tells us, in effect , that the story of Afonja, like that of Rosiji or Okunowo, is not an isolated instance, but one of a number of regularly unfolding manifestations of the willingness of the Yoruba to betray their own. It is alright to blame Alimi for using Afonja, or Balewa for using Okunowo, or the Fulani again for using Abiola or Obasanjo or even Ige. Yet this leaves the question :Why is it that those used are always from among the children of Oduduwa? Why could the Yoruba not use a prominent Fulani man, a known politician, a retired general or a business magnate to serve a Yoruba cause? Why is it that the most prominent northerners in the AD today, the chairmen of the two factions are, respectively, a former ambassador of no consequence whose greatest claim to glory was being press secretary to IBB’s second in command, and an Abacha politician who found his way into the senate in those days of darkness?

Abati tells us again, in effect, that the Yoruba "have always fought for power among themselves". In what follows that statement, it is clear that he means the constituent tribes of the house of Oduduwa have always fought each other for power. Indeed even the current crisis in the AD is linked to a struggle between a coalition around the Ibadan-Oyo axis and another around the Ijebu-Egba axis. Whenever the Yoruba are in opposition, they forge a unity as descendants of Oduduwa. As soon as they smell power or money they become Oyo, Egba, Egbado, Ijebu, Ijesha, Ekiti, Ondo, Akoko, Owo etc. The combination of a hunger for power and ethnic provincialism are enough to ensure that the various groups making up the Yoruba race will for ever be at each others’ throats.

A final point Abati makes is that the Yoruba politicians have always overestimated themselves and underestimated the Fulani. Awolowo considered Fulani politicians as nothing but "glorified Grade 2 teachers". These were the people who defeated him in elections, had him indicted for financial corruption, convicted and jailed him for treason, released him and used him during the civil war and subsequently consigned him to the Siberia of opposition for the rest of his life. When Adesanya calls Fulanis cattle and goats they are not angry. On the contrary they are amused by the irony of it all. The Fulani have never denied that among them, like all peoples, there are many who can be fairly called "cattle and goats". The difference between the Fulani and the Yoruba is that the Fulani know the "cattle" among them and never allow them to rise to positions of leadership. Yusuf Mamman can remain in AD for 100 years. On his own he can never deliver even Katsina state to the Yoruba. What is missing to Adesanya is that in spite of this concept of our being cattle and goats, the house of Oduduwa has never secured the service of one cow or one goat in the task of undermining the legacy of Danfodio. All this in spite of the fact that unlike the south-west where political homogeneity is enforced through terrorism and blackmail, northern politics has always been one of pluralism and ideological cleavages like the NPC/NEPU or NPN/PRP divides. By comparison, in every dispensation including when they are not in power, the Fulani have found a surfeit of cattle and goats among Yoruba politicians who have been ever willing to, in Abati’s words, " bring down the roof" on their heads.

Madunagu encourages the Yoruba to continue blaming the Fulani for their woes. Abati holds up to their faces a mirror, and invites them to look at the Oduduwa nation in the face and recognize wherein lie the reasons for their inability to sustain political gains. Will the Yoruba finally learn humility, and accept the need to treat others with respect? Or will they continue to be dribbled, as usual, by "cattle and goats" (which makes them even worse than cattle and goats)? The choice is theirs to make.

The writer is a manager at the United Bank for Africa, Lagos, Nigeria