Category: Biodun Jeyifo

  • We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (2)

    We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (2)

    If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years there would be a shortage of sand. Milton Friedman

    Last week, I ended the discussion with the following observation. In his Independence Day speech, President Buhari would have been both closer to the truth and doing himself and his administration a lot of good if he had told Nigerians and the world that since the recession did not start with him, it would take quite a while before his efforts could be expected to turn things around for most Nigerians and the national economy itself. Needless to say, some questions arise from this rather strange decision of the President not take this path in his speech to the nation on October 1. Did Buhari and his advisers think that if he had told Nigerians this truth that the so-called recession did not start with him, most Nigerians – and his enemies in particular – would have accused him of passing the blame to previous administrations? Was the President afraid of being called a weak, confused or irresolute leader unable to rise to the occasion to stop the massive hemorrhaging of the national economy? Or did the President and his advisers simply and truly believe that we are really in a short recession that would, like most recessions, not last for a long time, especially if the right policies and actions are applied?

    I leave the probable answer(s) to each of these questions to the reader. However, I for one would like to offer the view that the answer to all the questions without exception is a resounding YES. In other words, just as Buhari apparently does not want to give his enemies the “ammunition” in the view that more than a year in office he is still passing the blame for our economic woes to previous administrations, so also does he not want to be considered a weak, confused and indecisive leader. Above all else, I also think that Buhari and his advisers do really believe that we are in a short recession that can be “cured” with careful use of the vastly reduced revenues that are still flowing into our national coffers even with the fall in the world price of crude petroleum. And this is what worries me the most, this sinking suspicion that not only Buhari and his administration but virtually the entirety of our economic and social elites believe that we are indeed in a short recession that can be managed and curtailed by a “reflation” made possible by the combination of our oil revenues and loans from both internal and external markets.

    This is the very simplistic and dangerous belief that I wish to explore in this concluding essay to the series that began last week. A man, a woman, a government can believe anything that he, she or it wants, as long as it does no harm to anybody, especially if it does not go from mere belief to action and deeds in the real world. I can find no better analogy to explain what I have in mind here about beliefs and the consequences they can have in the real world than the tragic devastation that Hurricane Matthew recently had on some communities in the Americas and the Caribbean. As the hurricane began to grow from a tropical storm off the African coast to a full-blown hurricane as it approached the Atlantic coast of the Americas, the warnings went out from authorities for people to evacuate their homes because “Matthew” was expected to be a Category 4 monster. However, some folks believed that as they had done many times in the past, they could also ride out the fury of “Matthew” and so they did not evacuate. As a result of this erroneous belief, many lives were tragically and needlessly lost.

    I am using the analogy of tropical storms and category four hurricanes quite deliberately in this discussion. Extending this analogy to the domain of economic activities and the wealth and poverty of nations,one could say that a recession is like tropical storms that, generally speaking, tend not to last too long or cause catastrophic damages on peoples and communities. By contrast, a serial recession is like a typhoon or a hurricane because like an economic depression, it lasts for quite a while and causes colossal havoc that usually takes a long time to recover from. In the light of this analogy, I put it to President Buhari and his economic advisers that whatever category one chooses to examine, our national economy has for a long time now been relentlessly battered by a hurricane, not a mere tropical storm: waves after waves of high school leavers and university graduates unable to find employment; industrial production operating well below 30% of installed capacities; absolute poverty rate of six to seven out of every ten Nigerians; the borrowing frenzy of our federal, state and even local governments, even when oil prices on the world market were relatively high; and ever rising levels of hardship, insecurity and restiveness among large segments of the population, especially the youths that constitute the biggest demographic community in our society. It is a great error, Mr. President, to call a hurricane a mere tropical storm that will soon end.

    At the level of formal discourse in the professional field of economics, concepts like recessions and depressions are meaningful and useful only in the true capitalist nations and economies of the world; they do not explain much inthe kind of pseudo-capitalist economy that has been in operation in our country for a long time now. There are many reasons for this. Perhaps the most important reason in the context of the present discussion is the enormously significant fact that, unlike Nigeria, in true capitalist economies wealth – or capital in its abstract form – is not and indeed cannot be constantly and relentlessly looted and taken out of productive, value-added economic activities. A second reason that is of equal importance is the fact that in contrast with what obtains in Nigeria, in true capitalist economies, recessions are not measured by a sudden and very sharp, very severe drop in the capacity to pay for imports in an economy that is overwhelmingly dependent on the importation of nearly everything needed to keep the economy running or working.This particular feature of the pseudo-capitalism in force in Nigeria is what I had in mind when I chose to quote from Milton Freidman, the arch-monetarist, free-market founder of the Chicago School of Economics for the epigraph for this piece. In a hundred years, I never would have chosen to quote from Friedman, except perhaps my intention was to critique or debunk his ideas and their influence among economists. But in this particular context, I am quoting Freidman with qualified approval: “If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years, there would be a shortage of sand”.

    Of course, Friedman did not have the Nigerian federal government in mind in this famous quote; he had the federal government of his own country, the United States in mind. Like the true supply-side monetarist that he was, Friedman’s message in this quote was simply this: as the business of government is not business, government should stay out of business, otherwise what you would have is shortages galore, even of sand in a place with an abundance of sand as the Sahara Desert. In applying this quote to the Nigerian pseudo-capitalist context, for sand let us substitute capital itself: whether the world price of crude petroleum is high or low, it makes no difference to Nigerian governments of the past and the present; there is a perpetual and artificial shortage of capital in the areas that really matter, there is an unceasing and relentless diversion of the wealth of the nation away from productive economic activities that go beyond the capacity to pay for foreign imports.

    Despite all I have been saying inthis piece, I will makethe following concession to Buhari and his economic advisers in their diagnosis of a short recession and the “cures” for it, as contained in the President’s Independence Day speech: professional, salaried, upper middle class Nigerians, together with importers and exporters that dominate wholesale and retail trade in the country are facing “recession” of the kind that professional economists in the true capitalist countries of the world have in mind when they use the concept. This is because the groups and individuals that belong to these categories of privileged Nigerians have been the only real beneficiaries of our over-dependence on foreign imports as the lynchpin of the national economy. Do I need to say why this is the case? Well, as everyone knows, the bulk of whatever is unlooted in our national wealth goes to paying for foreign imports so as to keep this form of national economy alive. Isn’t that the case, compatriot?

    I do not wish to seem cavalier and insensitive to human suffering in making this observation: the ability to meet obligations and necessities crucial for livelihoods and life itself is under severe, traumatic strain for hundreds of thousands of Nigerians across the whole country. And because these categories of Nigerians often bear responsibility for thousands of relatives and dependents that are less fortunate, the “recession” that Buhari has in mind extends far beyond the circle of the fortunate and the “blessed”. It is not unlikely that if for one reason or another world oil prices were to suddenly and unexpectedly spike upwards, relief would come to our import-dependent national economy and itsbeneficiaries. If this happens, at least for a short while the “recession” would be over.

    All the same, compatriots, let us not forget that the vast majority of Nigerians in their millions have been in a serial recession, a sort of depression, for a long time now. Buhari’s program for overcoming the “recession” as outlined in his speech on October 1, does not even begin to approach this overwhelming reality of severe hardship and suffering for most Nigerians in the hurricane of a serial recession or depression that they have endured for a long time now. Short of full employment under a vastly reformed capitalism that actually keeps the bulk of capital in both oil revenues and non-oil, value-added surplus accumulation in the country, nothing that the President and his economic advisers do can change the course from the present location of the national economy in the eye of the hurricane of serial, repeated recessions. Mr. President, will our country move away from wasteful and cannibalistic kalo-kalo, barawo capitalism under your administration and the rule of your party, the APC?

     

    • Biodun Jeyifo bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu
  • We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (2)

    We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (2)

    If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years there would be a shortage of sand. Milton Friedman

    Last week, I ended the discussion with the following observation. In his Independence Day speech, President Buhari would have been both closer to the truth and doing himself and his administration a lot of good if he had told Nigerians and the world that since the recession did not start with him, it would take quite a while before his efforts could be expected to turn things around for most Nigerians and the national economy itself. Needless to say, some questions arise from this rather strange decision of the President not take this path in his speech to the nation on October 1. Did Buhari and his advisers think that if he had told Nigerians this truth that the so-called recession did not start with him, most Nigerians – and his enemies in particular – would have accused him of passing the blame to previous administrations? Was the President afraid of being called a weak, confused or irresolute leader unable to rise to the occasion to stop the massive hemorrhaging of the national economy? Or did the President and his advisers simply and truly believe that we are really in a short recession that would, like most recessions, not last for a long time, especially if the right policies and actions are applied?

    I leave the probable answer(s) to each of these questions to the reader. However, I for one would like to offer the view that the answer to all the questions without exception is a resounding YES. In other words, just as Buhari apparently does not want to give his enemies the “ammunition” in the view that more than a year in office he is still passing the blame for our economic woes to previous administrations, so also does he not want to be considered a weak, confused and indecisive leader. Above all else, I also think that Buhari and his advisers do really believe that we are in a short recession that can be “cured” with careful use of the vastly reduced revenues that are still flowing into our national coffers even with the fall in the world price of crude petroleum. And this is what worries me the most, this sinking suspicion that not only Buhari and his administration but virtually the entirety of our economic and social elites believe that we are indeed in a short recession that can be managed and curtailed by a “reflation” made possible by the combination of our oil revenues and loans from both internal and external markets.

    This is the very simplistic and dangerous belief that I wish to explore in this concluding essay to the series that began last week. A man, a woman, a government can believe anything that he, she or it wants, as long as it does no harm to anybody, especially if it does not go from mere belief to action and deeds in the real world. I can find no better analogy to explain what I have in mind here about beliefs and the consequences they can have in the real world than the tragic devastation that Hurricane Matthew recently had on some communities in the Americas and the Caribbean. As the hurricane began to grow from a tropical storm off the African coast to a full-blown hurricane as it approached the Atlantic coast of the Americas, the warnings went out from authorities for people to evacuate their homes because “Matthew” was expected to be a Category 4 monster. However, some folks believed that as they had done many times in the past, they could also ride out the fury of “Matthew” and so they did not evacuate. As a result of this erroneous belief, many lives were tragically and needlessly lost.

    I am using the analogy of tropical storms and category four hurricanes quite deliberately in this discussion. Extending this analogy to the domain of economic activities and the wealth and poverty of nations,one could say that a recession is like tropical storms that, generally speaking, tend not to last too long or cause catastrophic damages on peoples and communities. By contrast, a serial recession is like a typhoon or a hurricane because like an economic depression, it lasts for quite a while and causes colossal havoc that usually takes a long time to recover from. In the light of this analogy, I put it to President Buhari and his economic advisers that whatever category one chooses to examine, our national economy has for a long time now been relentlessly battered by a hurricane, not a mere tropical storm: waves after waves of high school leavers and university graduates unable to find employment; industrial production operating well below 30% of installed capacities; absolute poverty rate of six to seven out of every ten Nigerians; the borrowing frenzy of our federal, state and even local governments, even when oil prices on the world market were relatively high; and ever rising levels of hardship, insecurity and restiveness among large segments of the population, especially the youths that constitute the biggest demographic community in our society. It is a great error, Mr. President, to call a hurricane a mere tropical storm that will soon end.

    At the level of formal discourse in the professional field of economics, concepts like recessions and depressions are meaningful and useful only in the true capitalist nations and economies of the world; they do not explain much inthe kind of pseudo-capitalist economy that has been in operation in our country for a long time now. There are many reasons for this. Perhaps the most important reason in the context of the present discussion is the enormously significant fact that, unlike Nigeria, in true capitalist economies wealth – or capital in its abstract form – is not and indeed cannot be constantly and relentlessly looted and taken out of productive, value-added economic activities. A second reason that is of equal importance is the fact that in contrast with what obtains in Nigeria, in true capitalist economies, recessions are not measured by a sudden and very sharp, very severe drop in the capacity to pay for imports in an economy that is overwhelmingly dependent on the importation of nearly everything needed to keep the economy running or working.This particular feature of the pseudo-capitalism in force in Nigeria is what I had in mind when I chose to quote from Milton Freidman, the arch-monetarist, free-market founder of the Chicago School of Economics for the epigraph for this piece. In a hundred years, I never would have chosen to quote from Friedman, except perhaps my intention was to critique or debunk his ideas and their influence among economists. But in this particular context, I am quoting Freidman with qualified approval: “If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years, there would be a shortage of sand”.

    Of course, Friedman did not have the Nigerian federal government in mind in this famous quote; he had the federal government of his own country, the United States in mind. Like the true supply-side monetarist that he was, Friedman’s message in this quote was simply this: as the business of government is not business, government should stay out of business, otherwise what you would have is shortages galore, even of sand in a place with an abundance of sand as the Sahara Desert. In applying this quote to the Nigerian pseudo-capitalist context, for sand let us substitute capital itself: whether the world price of crude petroleum is high or low, it makes no difference to Nigerian governments of the past and the present; there is a perpetual and artificial shortage of capital in the areas that really matter, there is an unceasing and relentless diversion of the wealth of the nation away from productive economic activities that go beyond the capacity to pay for foreign imports.

    Despite all I have been saying inthis piece, I will makethe following concession to Buhari and his economic advisers in their diagnosis of a short recession and the “cures” for it, as contained in the President’s Independence Day speech: professional, salaried, upper middle class Nigerians, together with importers and exporters that dominate wholesale and retail trade in the country are facing “recession” of the kind that professional economists in the true capitalist countries of the world have in mind when they use the concept. This is because the groups and individuals that belong to these categories of privileged Nigerians have been the only real beneficiaries of our over-dependence on foreign imports as the lynchpin of the national economy. Do I need to say why this is the case? Well, as everyone knows, the bulk of whatever is unlooted in our national wealth goes to paying for foreign imports so as to keep this form of national economy alive. Isn’t that the case, compatriot?

    I do not wish to seem cavalier and insensitive to human suffering in making this observation: the ability to meet obligations and necessities crucial for livelihoods and life itself is under severe, traumatic strain for hundreds of thousands of Nigerians across the whole country. And because these categories of Nigerians often bear responsibility for thousands of relatives and dependents that are less fortunate, the “recession” that Buhari has in mind extends far beyond the circle of the fortunate and the “blessed”. It is not unlikely that if for one reason or another world oil prices were to suddenly and unexpectedly spike upwards, relief would come to our import-dependent national economy and itsbeneficiaries. If this happens, at least for a short while the “recession” would be over.

    All the same, compatriots, let us not forget that the vast majority of Nigerians in their millions have been in a serial recession, a sort of depression, for a long time now. Buhari’s program for overcoming the “recession” as outlined in his speech on October 1, does not even begin to approach this overwhelming reality of severe hardship and suffering for most Nigerians in the hurricane of a serial recession or depression that they have endured for a long time now. Short of full employment under a vastly reformed capitalism that actually keeps the bulk of capital in both oil revenues and non-oil, value-added surplus accumulation in the country, nothing that the President and his economic advisers do can change the course from the present location of the national economy in the eye of the hurricane of serial, repeated recessions. Mr. President, will our country move away from wasteful and cannibalistic kalo-kalo, barawo capitalism under your administration and the rule of your party, the APC?

    • Biodun Jeyifo bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

     

  • We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we  are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (1)

    We are not in a short recession, Mr. President; we are in a serial recession that is close to a depression (1)

    The programmes I have outlined will revive the economy, restore the value of the naira and drive hunger from our land.  President Buhari, Independence Day Speech, October 1, 2016

    Let me start by admitting that for a long time before the President’s Independence Day speech last week, I had been experiencing some concern, some discomfiture that most commentators have been saying that we are now in a recession that began with the official devaluation of the naira when the truth is that what we are going through not only started long before the devaluation of the national currency but has indeed been going on for so long that it is much closer to a depression than a recession..But having made this observation, I must nevertheless emphasize that it was the president’s speech that finally convinced me that I had to write about the matter. This is because both in the title that most newspapers and newsmagazines gave the speech –Nigeria’s Economic Recession Is Real But Would (sic) Not Last – and in the analysis of the crisis and the “solutions” proffered by Buhari, it was obvious that the President really had a shortrecession in mind, with depression absolutely nowhere in sight in his thoughts and projections.

    As a matter of fact, this is clearly reflected in the sentence that I have excerpted from the president’s speech for the epigraph for this piece, a sentence which indisputably shows that because he thinks we are in a short recession that began with the catastrophic fall in the value of the naira, Buhari expects a quick fix for the severe shortfalls that the national economy and the good people of Nigeria are going through right now.Typically, a recession does not last long. Compared with an economic depression, it is like going through a brief ailment that lasts for a couple of weeks in comparison with suffering a long, life threatening illness. No, Mr. President, economically we are not suffering a bit of a cold that requires no more than a cold and/or cough mixture; we are in the grip of a serious pandemic that will require procedures and medications adequate to the nature of the serious nature of the illness – precisely because we are in a serial recession whose repeated occurrenceover the last two to three decades indicates that we are always on the brink of an economic depression.

    Now, it is an elementary principle in the science of economics that though there are similarities and continuities between them, a recession is very different from a depression. As a matter of fact, the two terms would not have been invented and applied to describe different phenomena by economic theoristsif there were no great, perhaps profound distinctions between the terms. In a short series of two essays that begins in this column this week, I wish to discuss this issue with particular focus on its implications both for state or governmental policy and the expectations and hopes of Nigerians in their tens of millions across the length and breadth of the land. So, for starters, let us briefly deal with the differences between a recession and a depression, together with the issue of why it is very important not to either willfully or unknowingly confuse one with the other.

    Before getting to the issue itself, a note of caution. I am by profession not an economist; I am a literary critic and cultural theorist. However, for nearly half a century now, I have been deeply interested in the science of economics, especially in its more progressive and/or”philosophical” traditions (Adam Smith; Karl Marx; John Maynard Keynes; Obafemi Awolowo; Julius Nyerere; Paul Krugman; Eskor Toyo) as distinct from its more conservative, neoclassical and “econometric” currents (Milton Friedman and the Chicago School; Ragnar Frisch; Bruce Hansen; and our own Charles Soludo). This in effect means that while I will not avoid conventional or even neoclassical economic considerations in this piece, my focus will be more on the public good in relation to the driving ideologies and effects of economic activities, far beyond their reflection in narrow professional disputes among economists. In other words, just as it is often said politics is too important to leave to politicians and law is too important to leave to lawyers, I say here that the economies of our nation and our planetary community are far too important to leave to economists. At any rate, our discussion of recession(s) and depression(s) as economic phenomena will be very brief, the main point being essentially to address the central issue of this discussion which is that we are not in a short recession as the President and his (economic) advisers obviously think, to go by his Independence Day speech last week.

    To give a concrete illustration of the essential difference between a recession and a depression, permit me to draw an instructive analogy from the field of medicine. Thus, just as physicians of the homeostatic school of medicine believe that the body, the organs and the tissues all naturally tend towards health and wellness anddisease is an aberration, an abnormality that the body always quickly tries to “heal”, so do most traditional or conventional economists believe that expansion and growth represent the normal state of affairs in economic activities while most “slowdowns” or recessions are brief and tend to be more rare than frequent. Indeed, some economists go so far as to define recession as being characterized by a period of negative economic growth for no more than two consecutive quarters! Unemployment rises, industrial production falls, real GDP adjusted for inflation decreases, incomes stagnate or fall especially with regard to their purchasing power in wholesale and retail sales and government borrowing increases. These are the typical features of a recession. If they all seem like frightening things, mercifully they tend not to last for too long in a recession. If they last for too long and moreover get worse, then you have a depression, the mother of all recessions. Please always remember, dear reader, that most traditional or conventional economists believe that, as in life itself, expansion and growth constitute the normal or even “natural” state of economic activities and recession is an abnormality that doesn’t or shouldn’t last too long.

    But now think, compatriot: when hasevery single one of these phenomena not been happening in our national economy and on a more or less continuous basis for a long time now? When has unemployment not been high and in double digits? (In a recession, unemployment is supposed to be in single digits; it is in a depression that it falls into double digits). When has industrial output not been in continuous decline in our country in the last three decades? When has our governments, federal and state, not been borrowing from both internal and external creditors even when the world price of oil was relatively high? Did the rise in unemployment in our country begin with the official devaluation of the naira? Hasn’t the value of the naira in relation to the convertible currencies of the world been falling, falling and falling for a long time now, only to assume its present catastrophic and spectral scale with the devaluation?

    To put concrete, human faces to these questions, I cannot remember a time in the last two decades when I have not been overwhelmed by relatives, friends, acquaintances and neighbors with the CV’s of their university-educated daughters and sons who have been on the job market for years and years after their graduation. In my neighborhood at Oke-Bola, Ibadan, I can’t remember a time when there haven’t been scores upon scores of youths with absolutely no prospects of gainful employment now and in the future. And I have lost count of the number of years when most of the factories at the Oluyole Industrial Estate, the main manufacturing corridor in Ibadan, all closed down and laid off their employees. Every time that I drive through the area, I shake my head in great sadness and bewilderment. Is this not a profile, compatriot, that is applicable to virtually all neighborhoods in the country, both urban and rural? And yet the President and his economic advisers and speech writers talk of a short recession that began only recently and will not last long! Any thinking, concerned and caring Nigerian who for one second believes the President and his advisers ought to have his or her mental and emotional state checked!

    In the context of all I have been saying in this essay, it might be profitable to ask why no one has ever said that we are either in a depression or close to it. I think there are two reasons that are closely linked for this. First, we have not yet seen the worst or the most frightening things associated with economic depressions. What things, what phenomena are these? Well, things like a total collapse of the banking system that induces a run on the banks as millions of people line up to take as much as they can from their accounts before it is too late. Things like a national currency whose value is little better than toilet paper. Things like wholesalers and retailers hoarding foodstuffs and other essential commodities while waiting for prices to rise again. And things like the disappearance of “payday” as deliverance day because pay packets no longer serve any valuable purpose. The far more dramatic phenomena are the mass suicides of men and women completely overwhelmed by the hardships they and their families have to endure. There are countries on our continent and other parts of the developing world undergoing most of these phenomena that have not (yet) declared that they are in the grip of an economic depression. If that is the case, why would a country like Nigeria that still has oil wealth coming into its coffers declare that it is in or close to a depression?

    And of course, there is that oil wealth itself. It is considerably down because of the fall in the world price of crude petroleum and the shortages in production caused by destruction of facilities by the Niger Delta militants. But it is still flowing into our national coffers in magnitudes that make it possible to stave off a full-blown slide into economic depression, even though our recessions have been so long that they abstractly and formally qualify for being declared a depression. Meanwhile, please note, compatriot, that Buhari could have made things easier for himself and his administration by stating, quite truthfully, that since the recession did not start with his coming to power, it will take time to tackle the challenges. He and his advisers didn’t take this path apparently because they believe, like all administrations before them, that with oil wealth, you can spend, or more appropriately “buy”, your way out of any recession or depression. This extremely naïve and dangerous thinking has its roots in a national economy in which nearly everything is imported. In next week’s continuation of the series, we shall start with this simplistic assumption that reflation through access to oil wealth is what will keep our economy afloat and in the President’s own words, “drive hunger from our land”.

    • Biodun Jeyifo bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu
  • Apocalypse – Nigerian presidential elections  2015 and American presidential elections 2016

    Apocalypse – Nigerian presidential elections 2015 and American presidential elections 2016

    Apocalypse: (1) an event involving destruction or damage on a catastrophic scale;
    (2) the complete final destruction of the world, as described in the biblical book of Revelation
    Dictionary.com (online)

    It was in the early hours of Tuesday, September 27, that it dawned on me that the Americans were going through exactly the same feelings of being on the edge of an apocalypse that we had felt close to the end of the campaigns for our presidential elections of 2015. Because I am currently in a time zone that is six hours ahead of the eastern seaboard of the United States, I had to stay up past 4:30 am to watch the first of the televised presidential debates of the current electoral season in America. It was after the end of the debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump that I began to reflect on why this debate was so portentous that I had to stay up so late to watch it. It was then that it dawned on me that as in our own elections, the whole world is also awaiting the outcome of the American elections with far more than the usual global interest in American presidential elections. Of course, the interest of the rest of the world, though much more intense than usual, is not apocalyptic. But there is no doubt whatsoever that to the Americans, just as we in Nigeria felt last year in the electoral battle between Goodluck Jonathan and Muhammadu Buhari, the apocalypse is about to descend on their country if the wrong candidate is eventually elected.

    Apocalypse involves great, widespread and perhaps even unimaginable feelings of fear and premonition. Thus, for an event, any event, to inspire apocalyptic dread, it has to strike deep into the foundations of things that make us feel safe and secure in who we are as a people, together with our sense of our place in the scheme of things in the world. In other words, while it is normal to occasionally have feelings of anxiety and malaise about things, the balance tips over to apocalypse when we feel that one particular event or happening goes far beyond normal or typical worries and anxieties.This is precisely what the presidential elections in Nigeria 2015 did and what the American elections 2016 is doing: going over and beyond the fears and anxieties that surrounded virtually all previous elections in the political history of each country, respectively Nigeria and the United States. In choosing to reflect on this uncanny similarity in this piece, I will focus on reasons why two countries that are so dissimilar in every way imaginable can yet present us with extraordinarily similar intimations of apocalypse in electoral cycles very close in time. But before getting to this matter of speculation and reflection, it is perhaps necessary to concretely highlight the similarities themselves.

    We can very briefly recount what these uncanny similarities are. Perhaps the most interesting or portentous are the striking similarities between the candidacies of Goodluck Jonathan and Donald Trump: each presented a profoundly troubling disquiet to their own political parties, respectively the PDP and the Republican Party. Remember the mass defections from the PDP when it became clear that Jonathan was going to be the party’s candidate? Remember the melodrama of Obasanjo publicly tearing up his membership card of the party? Well, compare this to the number of very influential members of the establishment of the Republican Party that have either publicly denounced the candidacy of Trump or as a matter of fact declared their support for Hillary Clinton. Interestingly, no two persons can be as different as Jonathan and Trump in their personalities. Jonathan is as colorless as Trump is fastidiously flamboyant; and Trump is as much a bully and a thug as Jonathan was very often the victim of bullying as much within his party as among the opposition parties. And yet, consider how very similar the two men are in the use of violence and fascist tactics in their campaigns. Indeed, every time I have seen scenes of the verbal and physical violence of Trump’s supporters in his mass rallies, my mind has always gone back to the hooded paramilitary thugs who were widely deployed by Jonathan and the PDP during the campaigns of 2015.

    For me, the most pertinent similarity between the Jonathan and Trump campaigns is the fact that against the undoubted crisis that their candidacies presented to their parties, there was/is the near fanatical support that they enjoyed among large and important demographic groups in the country. On any consideration, candidates who start out with significant disapproval within their own parties ought not to be of any threat to their opponents from other political parties. But this was not the case with Jonathan last year and it is not the case with Trump now. Definitely among his own “home” base in the South-south but also among very large and important pluralities in the Southeast and parts of the North, Jonathan enjoyed zealous support that almost neutralized the disaffection of influential elements with the PDP establishment. With Trump, this factor has been extremely fascinating in that as the election cycle has moved towards the finale, his support within the base of the Republican Party has solidified, so much so that many party heavyweights that had vociferously broken with him are now either slipping into silence and quietude or are actually coming out of their shells to endorse him. This presents us with a pattern that we also saw in Jonathan’s candidacy last year in the Nigerian elections: a man widely disliked and reviled as a moral leper, as a divisive force whose stock-in-trade is the bigotry and fanaticism of his supporters around whom has coalesced large pluralities around the country that nobody, least of all the opposition, can easily dismiss or even ignore.

    The similarity that seems the most facile is not without its own significance, this being the insistence of Jonathan and his supporters last year that nothing but victory was acceptable to them and of Trump in the idea that a loss in his present effort could only come about on the basis of rigged elections. This was probably why Lester Holt who compered the debate between Clinton and Trump last Monday formally ended the event with a demand that each candidate commit to acceptance of the results of the election regardless of who the victor is. Not surprisingly, before expressing his commitment, Trump rambled for close to a minute of the two minutes given him for the question before finally and rather tepidly declaring his commitment. Please remember that when Jonathan rather very loudly accepted his defeat even before the formal declaration of Buhari as the winner had been made, the whole world was struck by surprise and relief, the surprise but not the relief extending to his supporters. There are many among Trump’s supporters who cannot – and probably will never – accept his defeat, even if the candidate himself goes quietly back into the world of his allegedly tottering business empire. If that is what happens on November 9, the day after the American elections, it would mean that apocalypse has been averted, at least for the time being. This observation leads us back to the main issue for our reflections in this piece: what are the probable reasons for these remarkable similarities between Nigeria 2015 and America 2016 in the two countries’ presidential elections?

    In responding to this question, let me quickly state that I am completely uninterested in what might be the real or probable effects of the fact that from 1999 to the present, the Nigerian political system has been based on an assiduous and rather unimaginative copy of the American presidential system. True, a copycat usually reproduces not the finer features but the maladies and inanities of the object copied or imitated. But please note that Jonathan and the crisis that his candidacy presented to the PDP took place long before Donald Trump effected his coup against the elites in the establishment of the Republican Party. This rather adventitious fact imposes on us the obligation to look for our answers in the major structural features of economy, society and polity that Nigeria shares with the United States. If we do this, the two facts that immediately spring to mind are, first, the fact that both countries are awash with a wealth that is extremely unfairly distributed and, second, the fact that both countries are extremely diverse in their racial, ethnic and demographic communities. In our closing remarks and observations, let us juxtapose these two structural features to see what we get in relation to the specter of apocalypse in each country.

    Great wealth side by side with widening circles of poverty and desperation normally spells social malaise on a large scale. When this is compounded by racial, ethnic, religious and regional differences, the crisis deepens and magnifies immeasurably. There are few countries in the contemporary world where these factors have converged as powerfully as Nigeria and the United States. True, poverty is more widely and far more “democratically” distributed in Nigeria than in America. But that is or was, the historic pattern. The contemporary world presents us with something new and rather unprecedented: considerable levels of poverty and social and economic exclusion among previously relatively more privileged communities based on race, class and gender. This is why, racism, misogyny and bigotry have been so openly displayed and used by the Trump campaign: the candidate speaks from and to a base that feels that it has lost so much ground that it has nothing to more to lose by openly baring its fangs. Please remember that Jonathan and his supporters also felt and acted the same way: in last year’s elections, the appeal to primordial, revanchist sentiments were so loud, so uncompromising in the threat of Armageddon that it seemed that no healing across the real and manufactured divisions of ethnicity and regionalism could and would be effective after the last votes in the elections had been counted. Apocalypse is the product of the depth of this crisis in the domain of electoral politics. This leads to our concluding paragraph in this piece.

    I certainly hope that Clinton emerges the victor in the elections in November. But ‘apocalypse’ takes us far beyond any reforms, any cures that electoral politics can be expected to bring to countries like Nigeria and the United States with so much injustice, so much poverty and desperation in the midst of great wealth. Apocalypse is an abstract term, an effect of language, of discourse; its closeness or distance to real conditions has to be measured and gauged case by case, location by location. Buhari won in Nigeria in 2015 and thus we shall never know whether or not Armageddon would have descended on the country if Jonathan had been declared the victor. All we know, all we can go by is the fact that so far, Buhari’s victory has not brought the relief that his supporters and the rest of the world expected from his victory. Will this be the same scenario if Clinton wins? Is the aversion of apocalypse the same as the alleviation of great and wide suffering of the tens of millions of the dispossessed? Is it at least something to be grateful for that ‘apocalypse’ is averted and we have some room for some small, incremental reforms while the looting, the injustice goes on? So many unanswered questions, compatriot.

    • Biodun Jeyifo bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu
  • Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (4)

    Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (4)

    The following was the last paragraph in this column last week: “Obviously, we have traveled or strayed far from the paths indicated by those debates. Indeed, anyone who, upon reading all the relevant documents in those debates, claims that she or he could have anticipated an extremely unregenerate and unjust capitalism in which mega-looters and their defenders dominate the political order, the national economy and the judicial system would be hard put to defend that claim. So: how did we get here and how can we get out of it? If there are no simple answers to this question, this does not mean that there are no answers at all. This will be our starting point in next week’s concluding piece in the series.”

    I think it is productive to begin this week’s column with an online reader’s comment that I deem a fit and proper launching pad for the concluding piece in the series. Here’s the short comment, quoted in full because of its brevity and succinctness: “My dear Prof., you may as well help us to (sic) with those documents because I know you have them. But in case you don’t, I know you know people who have them. Thanks for your ever illuminating pieces”.

    In response to this reader’s comment, I say that both the 1979 and 1999 Constitutions can be downloaded via the Internet. So also can the 1989 Constitution whose Chapter 2 is very similar to the Chapter Two of the 1979 and 1999 Constitutions. Readers may also wish to download the American Constitution in order to avail themselves of the following very pertinent fact: The American Constitution is only 12 pages long. Now, if you add the supplement of Amendments that were ratified (27) and those not ratified (dozens), together with historical and philological notes on the background of these amendments, the entire document is 85 pages long. But the essential document itself is only 12 pages long. In fact, the Constitution of the United Kingdom is zero pages long – since it does not exist in a written form. By contrast, none of our own Constitutions is less than 153 pages long. The reason for this is the fact that while philosophers, businessmen and inventors greatly outnumbered lawyers in the drafting of the American Constitution,overwhelmingly the drafters or “writers” of our Constitutions were lawyers who believe, quite erroneously, that the longer and more cumbersome any legal document is, especially a Constitution, the more “legal” it is. This is an absurd tautology, this idea that something is more legal because its length seems to make it more legal! But that is how in general the law, with notable exceptions, operates in our country – as an instrument, not for illumination but for mystification. As to our online reader’s query about how and where to get the Minority Report of 1976 produced by Drs. Segun Osoba and the late Bala Usman, while it is widely discussed in articles easily available on the Internet, I have not found any downloadable versions on the Internet. Fortunately, Dr. Osoba is still alive and well and I promise to approach him soon to see if he has a personal copy of that document.

    I have a reason for the sarcastic comment that I have just made about lawyers in the preceding paragraph: I want to start with the law in my final reflections in this series on whether or not capitalism can or should be reformed in our country in a future historical path of evolution away from the extremely backward, cannibalistic capitalism in force in Nigeria at the present time. But before I give my thoughts on the law as the very first item on the agenda of reform, permit me for one last time in this series to explain why the very subject of reforming capitalism is neither my or anybody’s pipe dream nor a waste of time in pursuit of a lost or unworthy cause.

    In this series, I have in mind three particular groups of readers. First, I have in mind self-identified socialists, Marxists, Leftists and revolutionaries. Some of them, especially those of the older generation, are my friends, comrades and acquaintances. In general, they hardly ever talk of capitalism – except to denounce it. Moreover, they denounce capitalism in very vague or generalized terms, without any differentiations as to which capitalism they have in mind, especially with regard to the kind of capitalism in force in our country at the present time in contrast with the past. I remind them that this did not use to be the practice in the past – as they will find out if they go back to the documents I cited in last week’s column. And I ask them to remember that reform is not an end but a beginning, a possibility for deeper renewal and development.

    The second and third groups of people I have in mind in writing this series are, first, progressives, democrats, patriots and decent and humane people who do not apply any ideological labels to themselves and, second, compatriots who as a matter of fact and principle, do call themselves capitalists and are fierce opponents of socialists and Marxists. I have met many of these two types of Nigerians and actually have close friends, relatives and acquaintances among them. In my opinion, they have all rather become more complacent than they used to be. For instance, it is a long time that I have seen or read either a robust defense of capitalism or a critique of the kind of capitalism dominant in our country at the present time. Again, this is a departure from what used to be the practice in the past in this country, a past that is not so distant in time from the present moment. In fairness, we do occasionally get criticisms of aspects of the capitalism of these years and decades of the rule of the PDP and the APC, aspects like wholesale privatization of state-owned enterprises and public utilities that has massively and very cheaply transferred their ownership to a few Nigerians, without in the least improving the quality of products and services rendered. But these criticisms are never extended to capitalism as a whole with regard to how the political economy, the fiscal and monetary policies of government at federal and state levels, relations with foreign-owned multinational corporations doing business in our country and the law in general and the criminal justice system in particular all work together at the present time to make what I call Capitalism Nigerianaone of the worst, if not the very worst of capitalisms in the whole world.

    I have only a modest proposal to offer as a conclusion to this series and it concerns reforms that are not only necessary but that, for once in a long, long time, seem at last to be within our reach. Thus, with the systemic and structural framework outlined above in mind, I see the law and the criminal justice system as pivotal with regard to the all-important question of what to do, and how to stop the super-exploitation, the looting frenzy, the untold suffering and hardship of the vast majority of the Nigerian peoples across the length and breadth of the land. Reform of the law and the criminal justice system in our country is a desirable end in itself,but it has the added advantage that if the reform can be successfully carried out, it will redound to benefit of the system as a whole. Let me be very clear and concrete on this point.

    Most Nigerians do not know this, but by far the greatest acts of “looting” going on in our country are being perpetrated, not by the mega-looters- as incorrigibly menacing to the national economy as they are – but by policies through which around 70% of the budgets of all the governments in the country go to so-called recurrent expenditures while only 30% are allocated to capital expenditures. In plain language, the salaries, emoluments and allowances being paid are far in excess of actual services being rendered. As a result of this, the cost of governance in our country is one of the highest in the world; it is one of the most uneconomic among the fiscal policies sustaining all the national capitalisms of the planet. If only half of what is consumed annually in cost of governance is used to create employment for the masses of Nigerians, the multiplier effect on the national economy would be incalculably high. (Remember, apart from the federal government, we have thirty-six states in the country – thirty-six mini-states!) This is completely unacceptable, but as long as mega-looting not only exists but thrives, the popular demandfor, and the national will to reform capitalism in Nigeria will never be sufficiently mobilized to take on this much bigger source of looting and wastage in the APC’s Nigeria.

    There is also the fact that as regrettable as this may be, it is nonetheless true that most Nigerians are far more outraged by mega-looting than “looting” via the immensely bloated cost of governance. Fortunately for us, the law in general and the criminal justice system in particular are the only things blocking a permanent end to mega-looting with impunity in our country.Against this trend, The Administration of Criminal Justice Act of 2015 (ACJA) is gradually aiding the Buhari administration’s hugely popular war against corruption and the mega-looters in the law courts. And an internal war is raging within the Bar and the Bench as to where the winds will blow: business as usual and the status quo; or reform to bring criminal justice in our country in line with the justice system in the more benign capitalist systems in diverse nations around the world. It will be a very different Nigeria the day mega-looters are made not only to cough up their stolen loot but to suffer punitive, deterrent justice for their crimes against the nation and the national economy.

    At this point, I would like to use the analogy of medical science with regard to treating cancer itself and treating the severely high fevers often caused by cancer to illustrate the point that I am making here about reforming the law and the criminal justice system and reforming the bloated and severely uneconomic cost of governance in our country. The corrupt and compromised criminal justice system is the “fever”; the unregenerate and extremely wasteful cost of governance made possible by the rentier state and its clients in the thirty-six states of the country is the “cancer”. As surgeons and physicians know, you must first bring down the fever before attempting to deal with the cancer, otherwise the patient may die on the operating table before surgical operation on the cancer has even started. To extend this analogy of cancers and fevers a bit, it sometimes happens that a minor but aggressively opportunistic disease may kill the patient before either the fever and/or the cancer does: a bad cold; pneumonia; a bad fall caused by the extreme physical exhaustion and debilitation of the patient. There are many such symbolic social diseases lurking around the cancerous, fevered body politic of the nation – ethnic militias; religious bigotry and fanaticism; extreme feminization of poverty; a whole generation of restless youths without any prospects in the present or hopes for the future. Please, treat the “fever” quickly and successfully before any of these other opportunistic ailments finish us off.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                                bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (3)

    Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (3)

    This was the first sentence of my closing paragraph last week: Every form of capitalism has the judicial-administrative superstructure necessary for its functioning and survival. Our criminal justice system, with regard to the open and defiant protection it gives to the unjustly rich and powerful, is one of the most unjust and irrational criminal justice systems in the world precisely because Capitalism Nigeriana is one of the worst forms of capitalism in the world. In clarification of this observation, let me adduce the evidence or proof provided by the following two astonishing facts.

    First: In the year 2005, the former World Bank President, the American Paul Wolfowitz, gave a speech at the so called “Sullivan Summit” (named for the Reverend Leon Sullivan, an African American cleric with a passionate interest in Africa who had been one of the world’s fiercest opponents of apartheid) that shocked the whole world, especially the international business community. In the speech, Wolfowitz, with the solid authority of his position as the World Bank President, claimed that between 1970 and 2001, Nigerian political leaders, military and civilian, together with their cronies, had stolen about 300 billion dollars from the Nigerian people, with the effect, among other things, of continuous ruination of the Nigerian economy and the impoverishment of about 75% of Nigerians in both urban and rural communities. Let us note in passing that Wolfowitz made this revelation in 2005, in which case the question naturally arises as to how many more billions of petrodollars have been looted from our country and diverted away from the national economy since then, about eleven years ago? Let us note also that although Wolfowitz was making a moral and humanitarian argument against the effects of corruption in our country, above all else he was speaking as an economist, the chief guardian and protector, as it were, of global capitalism. In other words, Wolfowitz was motivated by a bafflement as to what breed, what transmogrification of capitalism was taking place in Nigeria that capital could be so massively and consistently diverted away from our national economy.

    Here is the second fact, that I wish to adduce here: After Muhammadu Buhari won last year’s presidential elections, there was a widespread optimism, not only in Nigeria but around the whole world, that before the new president’s inauguration, looters would flee the country in droves in their private jets but would however find no places in the world in which to hide because wherever they went, they would face repatriation back to Nigeria to face the music. Moreover, it was widely expected that at last corruption would be checkmated in our country and looters would finally be made both to return the stolen loot and face punishment for their economic crimes against the nation. We do not know how many looters tried to flee; all we know is that those who have been arrested and charged have found seemingly impregnable protection under legal principles and practices in the administration of criminal justice that are unique to Nigeria among all the nations of the world.In this column, I have identified and condemned the very worst of such principles on innumerable occasions, but itis worth repeating again: Nigeria is the only nation on the planet in which interlocutory injunctions are admitted in criminal cases; in every other country in the world, this injunction through which cases can be prolonged for a very long time, is allowed only in civil cases. Seen in the context of the legal cover and protection that it provides for mega-looters – by the way, it is used by and for ONLY alleged mega-looters – this is the single most important legal principle working against the Nigerian national economy because it is the judicial rampart for the superstructure of what I described last week as Capitalism Nigeriana, one of the worst forms of capitalism in the world. As a demonstration of this claim, think of the following fact: some mega-looters who have been successful in evading retributive and punitive justice for their crimes in Nigerian courts all the way up to our Supreme Court, have been jailed in courts outside Nigeria, sometimes for the very same charge of money-laundering. Money laundering exists nearly everywhere in the world, but only in Nigeria and other countries with extremely backward and unregenerate forms of capitalism does money laundering enjoy the kind of protection available to looters in our criminal justice system.

    In case it has not been sufficiently made clear in all I have been saying in this series, let me make it clear at this juncture that my focus here is almost exclusively on the structural and institutional principles and workings of capitalism in our country in about the last three decades. In other words, I am not really concerned in this series with a moralistic and humanitarian critique of capitalism in Nigeria. No doubt this is implied, but it is not the main or real focus of this series that began in this column two weeks ago and will end next week. The commentariat in our newspapers, newsmagazines and online public interest journals are overwhelmingly powered by protests and analyses that are fueled by moralism and humanitarianism. This is all well and good, but in this series, I am arguing for us to pay more attention to structural and institutional factors, these being areas of the public sphere that the commentariat in Nigeria is generally very either uninterested or frankly uninformed, especially as this relates to capitalism and the forms through which it has evolved in the post-independence period. In the closing paragraphs of this piece, let me briefly deal with this observation by posing the following enabling question: was it access to oil wealth on a colossal scale that changed capitalism from a potentially benevolent and transformative kind to the present extremely unregenerate and malevolent Capitalism Nigeriana?

    Counterintuitively, my answer to this question is no, a resounding no. Before Nigeria became one of the world’s largest oil producing countries, we were very well on our way to using surplus accumulation from export or so-called “cash crops” to transform our economy into a modern capitalism with an internal industrial base for light consumer goods for a very large “home” market that embraced virtually all of West Africa. The richest Nigerians then did not depend, as they do now, on patronage from government, federal or regional. The vast majority of the aggregate of all presently living Nigerians did not experience and do not know anything about this form of capitalism but there are enough of us still alive to tell the stories! Let me give a personal testimony about this: in 1970 when I taught for four months at Adeola Odutola College in Ijebu-Ode before returning to the University of Ibadan to begin my graduate studies, I used to travel every weekend to Ibadan. The Ibadan-Ijebu-Ode road on which I made the journeys is still nearly as good and durable it was then, almost fifty years later, while other roads which were either freshly constructed or rebuilt after then all constantly undergo severe and extremely dangerous disrepair. Indeed, that high school at which I taught, Adeola Odutola College, was much better equipped (and probably better staffed) than many of our universities now precisely because the founder and proprietor for whom the school was renamed from its previous name, Olu-Iwa College, was a true capitalist magnate whose influence and authority were completely independent of the patronage of politicians and governments. Above all else, what I wish to stress in this testimony which does not claim to be an exhaustive analysis of capitalism at that stage of our (under)development is that we were well on our way to transforming a capitalism that was primarily agriculture-based to modern industrial capitalism. If this was the case, it was not a given, foreclosed development that oil wealth should have been diverted away from that trajectory. Indeed, the argument could be made that the oil wealth could very well have been used to augment that trajectory. Nothing in history is preordained to happen the way it usually seems to be after the fact, especially after things have become very fixed and settled along a particular path of mal-development.

    On this last note, I wish to emphasize, especially to younger people reading this series, that if the things I am saying and claiming here seem far-fetched, please know that in fact they were very vigorously nationally debated in the not so distant past in our country. I particularly advise those who are eager to find out for themselves the truth of these claims to get copies of the following documents: the “Minority Report” submitted by Segun Osoba and the late Bala Usman in 1976 after they disagreed with the Constitution Drafting Committee (CDC) which had recommended welfarist capitalism in the main document produced by that CDC while Osoba and Usman recommended socialism in their report; the 1979 and 1999 Constitutions, especially the Second Chapters of both documents that contain extensive reflections on fairness and justice in both the ownership of the means of production and the distribution of the wealth of the nation. When Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida formed the two political parties that contested the 1993 presidential elections, the National Reconstruction Convention (NRC) and the Social Democratic Party, (SDP) and stated that one was “a little to the Right while the other was a little to the Left” he was reflecting the considerable influence of these debates on the kind of capitalism Nigeria should both enshrine in its constitution and back up with the force of state policies and actions.

    Obviously, we have traveled or strayed far from the paths indicated by those debates. Indeed, anyone who, upon reading all the relevant documents in those debates, claims that she or he could have anticipated an extremely unregenerate and unjust capitalism in which mega-looters and their defenders dominate the political order, the national economy and the judicial system would be hard put to defend that claim. So: how did we get here and how can we get out of it? If there are no simple answers to this question, this does not mean that there are no answers at all. This will be our starting point in next week’s concluding piece in the series.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                                    bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (2)

    Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria? – Resuming a forgotten debate (2)

    “You may know how little God thinks of money by observing what bad and contemptible characters he often bestows it.”
    A popular saying attributed to many people among them
    Alexander Pope and Dorothy Parker

    In ending the discussion last week with an observation that the leaders and all the members of our National Assembly ought to be in jail for openly and egregiously defying the clause in our Constitution that expressly forbids the concentration of the wealth of the nation in the hands of a few individuals or a group, I stated that this was both a half-serious and a half-playful suggestion. Why did I say this? Well, the serious part is that I actually and rather fervently believe that all our legislators, in all the political parties should be in jail for flouting this particular Constitutional provision. Compatriot, please look at the humungous salaries, emoluments and allowances our legislators pay themselves. And then on top of that look at the unconscionable “jara” of billions on naira that they also illegally obtain by padding the Budget sent them by the Presidency. Is this not arrant in its overconcentration of the wealth of the nation in a tiny group? That is the serious part of my suggestion that they all belong in jail right now and for a long time!

    The half-playful part of this suggestion comes from my recognition that the relevant section of the Constitution I am invoking here belongs to that part of the Constitution that lawyers call “non-justiciable”. What does this mean? Simply stated, it means that no matter the positive moral force and the degree of public good in the “non-justiciable” clauses of the Constitution, they cannot be enforced by law. In other words, as desirable as a constitutional clause in this “non-justiciable” parts of the Constitution may be, if you take those who flout it to the law courts, your suit on behalf of the nation and its peoples will be thrown out without even being heard. Bearing this in mind, I am almost certain that members of the National Assembly reading this piece and coming across the suggestion that they should all be in jail will be laughing and laughing hard.If that is the case, what then am I making of this fact in the context of this series on the very worst form of capitalism reigning in our country at the present time? Basically, it is this point: in capitalism that is so decadent, so filled with utter impunity as the type that we are now compelled to live under in great sufferance, there really is no distinction between what is justiciable and what is non-justiciable in the unregenerate consumption and wastage of the wealth of the nation by a few at the expense of the vast majority of our peoples. In the main, that is what I wish to discuss this week. But before going into it in detail, first I wish to make some further observations and reflections on why we need to resume the forgotten debate that we once had on good and bad capitalism in this country not too long ago.

    Of this I am absolutely certain: most of those reading this piece who are self-declared and sincere socialists and Left-of-center radicals are wondering why I am “wasting” my time in this series talking about “good” capitalism. In equal measure, of this I am also certain: to most readers who are not socialists or Leftists, talking about capitalism of any kind is so rare, so unusual in our country at the present time that they, too, must be wondering what I am about in this series. To both sides of this divide, I say that anyone who thinks that talking about capitalism in its various types is unusual or amounts to a waste of time suffers from both historical amnesia and ignorance of the fierce contemporary debates going on within capitalism in many nations and regions of the world, not least in the heartland of capitalism itself, the United States. Socialists and Leftists in particular must remember that socialism was founded on debates between reform of and revolutionagainst capitalism. Often, the two were posed in the form of a complete antithesis as reflected in the well-known phrase, “reform or revolution”. But in the most significant debates and developments, globally and in our own country, reform was not separated, not shut out from revolution; one was seen as connected to or leading to the other. And for all the non-socialists reading this, it is important to remind them that from its very beginnings, the struggles to reform capitalism, to give it a genuine human face has never stopped, with the exception perhaps of a few countries in the world like our own unhappy homeland, Nigeria, first under the PDP and now under the APC. On this note, let us return to the main line of our observations and reflections in this piece, this being the telling details of the extremely bad type of capitalism, of a capitalism that is absolutely without a human face and utterly devoid of the milk of human kindness in force in our country at present time.

    The form of capitalism reigning seriously unchallenged or perhaps seemingly unchallengeable in our country at the present time is so bad that in some of its main structural features, it seems not to be a “true” capitalism at all. In Economics 101, the most elementary level of university courses in the science of economics, students are routinely told that the consolidation and expansion of capital is so crucial that any entrepreneur, any capitalist that always cuts into and perpetually diminishes his or her operating capital will not last long as a businesswoman or man, a capitalist. And indeed, what is capitalism without capital? But this is exactly what Nigerian capitalism, PDP and APC mode, is in its essence. The major structural feature of this reality is as widely known as it also seems to defy anyone, any ruling party being either able or willing to do anything about it: year in year out, in the actual operation of our national and state budgets, recurrent expenditure far outweighs capital expenditure by a magnitude of the order of more than 3 to 1. Moreover, even the little that is left for capital expenditure is for the most part often looted through contracts that are both overinflated and barely ever satisfactorily executed, all with an impunity that can only mean that there really is no difference between “recurrent” and “capital” expenditure in the “capitalism” in force in Nigeria.

    Dear reader and compatriot, if you take nothing else away from the dire and unhappy musings of this series, please do take away and bear in mind this particular feature of this virulently thieving, looting and inhumanCapitalism Nigeriana of our predators’ republic: no economic and financial crime against the nation and its peoples, no matter how heinous, is really “justiciable” anymore since the difference between justiciable and nonjusticiable as established in our Constitution has been effectively abolished. The worst and simply unbelievable expression of this reality is the fact that ours is the only country in the world, repeat the only country on the planet, in which interlocutory injunctions can be “legally” invoked and accepted in criminal proceedings in order to prolong them indefinitely. In every other country in the world interlocutory injunctions and applications for stay of proceedings are recognized and granted only in civil cases. Those calling for the arrest and prosecution of Speaker Dogara for the budget-padding mega-scandal – and I join my voice to their voices – should bear this crucial point in mind: arrest and prosecution is only the start of what typically almost always effectively proves to be in the end “non-justiciable”. For example, how close to, or how far from conclusion are the cases against Dasuki and Saraki? Ask the courts, ask especially the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court who, in the final analysis, must be held accountable for the terrible miscarriage of justice in our law courts with regard to the unique privilege enjoyed by the mega-looters. In particular, ask the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court why he and his colleagues on the highest court of justice in the land have been remarkably reluctant to comply with and enforce the provisions of the Administration of Criminal Justice Act of 2015 (ACJA) which, if done would significantly do away with all the obstacles to the successful, timely and just prosecution of the alleged mega-looters. I have on the pages of this column myself asked the Chief Justice of Nigeria (CJN), Mahmud Mohammed (who happens to be the first indigenously trained CJN in Nigeria) this question before and ask it of him again today: why is he personally and professionally unembarrassed and unashamed by the fact that we are the only country in the whole world that permits the application of interlocutory injunctions in criminal cases?

    Lest it be thought that I am overstating and over-dramatizing things in this series, let me hasten to admit that the effacement of the distinction between the justiciable and the non-justiciable is not total, not complete in our law courts. Many offenses and infringements that are “justiciable” are still successfully prosecuted in our justice system and in their ordinary or routine operations, the law courts of the land still function, even if some of their administrative operations are so outdated and labyrinthine that it sometimes feels that one is in a medieval and not a modern court of law in present-day Nigeria. But I do hold strongly to my argument that in the most important areas of the economic order in force in the country, the distinction between the justiciable and non-justiciable does not exist because in the end, the huge mega crimes are effectivelyif not legally non-justiciable. This is what slowly – and hopefully wisely – Muhammadu Buhari and his AGF, Abubakar Malami, are gradually finding out in their declared war against corruption and the mega-looters. With most Nigerians,Buhari and Malami are also finding out that the looting has not only continued by and within sections of the leadership of their own party, the ruling APC but also appears to be tending towards the “non-justiciable” legacy left by the PDP. Every formof capitalism has the judicial-administrative superstructure necessary for its functioning and survival. Our criminal justice system, with regard to the open and defiant protection it gives to the unjustly rich and powerful, is one of the most unjust and irrational criminal justice systems in the world precisely because Capitalism Nigeriana is one of the worst forms of capitalism in the world. The epigraph to this piece states that if you wish to know what God thinks of money all you have to do is look at the evil and vile characters to whom he bestows wealth. I say that if you wish to know how really evil and vile our judicial-administrative superstructure is, look at the kind of capitalism that it endows with the protection of legality. This will be our starting point next week.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                                        bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria?– Resuming a forgotten debate (1)

    Has capitalism of the worst kind become permanent in Nigeria?– Resuming a forgotten debate (1)

    Thou shall let nothing be wasted John 6:12

    Indeed, has capitalism of the very worst kind become permanent in our country? I hope not! I have a personal, existential stake in expressing this hope. With other members of my generation, I am in the last “phase” of my physical existence. Certainly, like all human beings, I hope for a long and relatively healthy life. But I am realistic enough to know that when you are a septuagenarian, you have lived considerably far more of your life than the time left for your existence to run out of its allotted time. The oligarchic, thieving capitalism that is in full control of our political economy at the present time is the worst form of capitalism there is. If it has come to stay permanently in our country, it means that for the rest of my life, the hope for a better, more humane and just society in Nigeria will remain precisely that – a fatuous hope with absolutely no possibility of fulfillment. What is even worse is the possibility that this form of capitalism will survive well beyond my life and the lives of all presently living generations in our country. Heavens help us!

    The terror of this nightmarish prospect is underscored by the fact that in my lifetime, indeed in the collective lifetime of my generation of Nigerians, we have seen and experienced capitalism of a better, more productive and transformative kind. Because the median age for Nigeria is 18 years, close to about three quarters of the present aggregate of all living Nigerians did not experience that kind of relatively benign capitalism. And so for the most part, what the majority of Nigerians alive now know and have almost come to regard as “capitalism” is the barawo-jaguda-onyeoshi(apologies to Wazobian popular lingo) variety now in full force in the land. In a series of three or four essays that begins with this week’s column, I wish to reflect on this profoundly disturbing fact of our political economy. But first, in a few paragraphs, I wish to say a word or two about the whole issue of “good” and “bad” capitalism, beginning with why the form of capitalism in Nigeria, first under the PDP and now under the APC, is the very worst kind of capitalism.

    What is the essence of this kind of capitalism? It is consumption as the be all and end all of “production”. In other words, in this kind of capitalism, consumption becomes so unrelated to production that it extends voraciously to products and services that your nation, your society doesn’t and cannot produce. Moreover, and quite significantly, thisfrenzy of consumption is available, not to everyone in the society but only to a few that are paradoxically typically the least productive members of the society. If we recognize that we are using the term cannibalism metaphorically here, we can describe this kind of capitalism as being profoundly cannibalistic, in essence implying that part of what the few consuming lords of the land consume are the lives of the vast majority of the peoples. Perhaps the single most frightening feature of this kind of capitalism is the fact that production in general, and virtually all productive processes in particular become so battered, so endangered that everything valuable is wasted on a monumental scale. This observation leads us to the relevance of the epigraph for this essay.

    John 6:12: Thou shall let nothing be wasted. This is our epigraph for this essay. [Actually the rendition of this quote in the Yoruba Bible is more poetic, more stunningly evocative: Eyin ko gbodo je ki ounkoun ki o s’egbe!] Think of the kind of capitalism in force in our country at the present time – and apparentlyfor the foreseeable future – as a complete reversal of this injunction of Christ to his disciples thereby giving us the following monstrosity: Thou shalt let everything, everything, go to waste! In the biblical story that serves as the narrative and theological context for this quote, Christ was referring specifically to the leftovers that remained from the huge feast with which he had fed the multitudes, a feast miraculously conjured out of only two loaves of bread and a lump of fish. Theologians have for ages speculated that the literal leftovers that Jesus was referring to in this quote was actually a symbolic representation of spiritual sustenance. In other words, it has been argued that Christ was really saying that if you can apply yourself to the practice of not wasting leftovers of food, you will position yourself well for preventing all forms and sources of sustenance from going to waste. It was Wole Soyinka who, right after the Nigerian-Biafra Civil War, first talked of the “wasted” generation. Since then, the metaphor of waste has been applied to just about every asset and resource that we possess, not only physical and material ones like crude oil and human labour, but human life itself. Waste on this scale and of such widespread dispersion causes untold hardship, suffering, violence, corruption and insecurity. We shall come back to this form of capitalism that is regnant in our country and has been so for a few decades, but for now let us move to the second of our opening reflections, this being the very question of types of capitalism, some “good”, others “bad”.

    A confession: one “inspiration” for my use of the term “good and bad capitalism” is the fact that there is indeed a book of roughly that title that is not only in print but has been in wide circulation since its publication in the year 2007. Here’s the full title of the book: Good Capitalism; Bad Capitalism: The Economics of Growth and Prosperity. The authors of the book are William J. Baumol, Robert E. Litan, and Carl J. Schram, all professors of economics at prestigious American universities. The book identifies four types of capitalism in a list that goes from the worst to the best. Here’s their list: oligarchic capitalism; state guided capitalism; big firm capitalism; and entrepreneurial capitalism. Not too long after this book came out, I discussed it in a series when this column, in an earlier incarnation, was written for and published in The Guardian. For this reason, I will not go into a lengthy or sustained discussion of the book. For our current purposes in this discussion, here are the four things I wish to say about the book’s postulates about “good” and “bad” capitalism.

    First: discussions of varieties of “better” and “worst” forms of capitalism are not new and have been around ever since the emergence of capitalism as the dominant form of modern economic production.Second: most theorists and commentators,both of the Left and of the Right, agree with the authors of this book that the oligarchic form of capitalism is indeed the worst kind. Third: however, barely a year after the publication of the book, the global economic meltdown of 2008 completely disproved and debunked the authors’ claim that “entrepreneurial capitalism”, American-style, is the “best” form of capitalism the world has ever known. And there is also the quite significant fact that in this year of American presidential elections, devastating critiques of the injustices and inefficiencies of entrepreneurial capitalism constitute perhaps the single most dominant theme of the candidates of the two main parties. Fourth: we must look at other sources for a more productive discussion of “good” and “bad” capitalism, sources that are indeed more relevant to our present historic circumstances. In the present context, I will cite and briefly discuss only two of such sources, one foundational and international, the other quite local to our own recent economic and political history.

    It is hard to imagine now, but younger Nigerian socialists and progressives on the Left need to be reminded that Karl Marx and other founding leaders of modern socialism actually considered capitalism a profoundly transformative and indeed “revolutionary” force in modern economic and political history. Indeed, some sections of nothing less canonical than The Manifesto of the Communist Party, read like hymns to the progressive vocation of capitalism in general and the bourgeoisie in particular! Simplifying a little bit, here is the underlying idea of this view of capitalism in its “revolutionary” phase: it was releasing and it will continue to release powers of production on such a gigantic scale that, for the first time in human history, scarcity will become a thing of the past. Consequently, so goes the argument, there will be enough for society on a global scale to be able to undertake a massive redistribution of wealth that will forever abolish poverty and want and the degradations they impose on millions, billions of human beings. Of course Marx and others warned of evolving types within capitalism that would seek to blunt or even stop the progressive and transformative tendencies within capitalism. The chief of such negative, “regressive” types of capitalism is the monopolistic or oligopolistic kind, especially in its tendency to lead to war and a perpetual sharpening and deepening of the gap between the rich and the poor.On this view, the “best” form of capitalism would be that which pays attention to the vital links between the production of wealth and the fair and just distribution of the wealth produced. As a counter to this, the worst form of capitalism is that in which whatever wealth actually or potentially exists is kept away from both the generation of more wealth and fair and just distribution.

    It might perhaps come as a shock to many reading these words to learn that much of these things that have been historically and internationally discussed about “good” and “bad” capitalism have not only been very widely discussed in our country but indeed went into the writing of the 1999 Constitution. This is particularly true of Chapter 2 of that Constitution which deals specifically with economic production and the role of the State in ensuring justice and fairness to all. What is more pertinent here is that this Chapter Two of the 1999 Constitution is in fact the product of widespread discussions throughout the country that had gone into the production of both the 1979 and the 1993 Constitutions. Indeed, the so-called “Preamble” to the 1993 Constitution specifically raises the challenge of simultaneously pursuing economic growth and distributive justiceat the same time. In this, there is a suggestion that you cannot pursue distributive justice on scarcity, on undeveloped productive powers. But the discussion makes it plain that the best form of government and economy is that which pursues both objectives simultaneously: growth through expanding productive forces and fair and equitable distribution of the wealth of the nation. Thus, though the term “capitalism” does not appear in the 1993 and 1999 Constitutions, there is not the slightest doubt that the idea of a “good” or benevolent capitalism is at the core of these documents.

    Let me end this opening essay in a series that will continue next week on a half-playful and half-serious note: on the basis of Section 16, subsection 2, paragraph c of the 1999 Constitution, Saraki, Dogara and indeed all the members of the National Assembly should be in jail right now in defiance of the nation’s governing Constitution. What exactly does this paragraph state? Here it is: “The State shall direct its policy toward ensuring that the economic system is not operated in such a manner as to permit the concentration of wealth or the means of production and exchange in the hands of a few individuals or of a group”.  We will take this observation as our point of departure in next week’s continuation of the series.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                                         bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Compatriots, things could be worse; or, things will get worse – three parables/riddles

    Compatriots, things could be worse; or, things will get worse – three parables/riddles

    First parable/riddle

    A tree, a mighty tree falls in the forest but no one, no conscious, prescient being is there to see the fall: does this event have any significance? The riddle is more forceful if the tree is a mighty tree, one of the biggest in the forest, but the implied enigma could be arguably extended to even a small tree whose height or girth is unremarkable since all trees, all living things are deemed inherently worthy. So, let’s make the riddle, our riddle, pertain to any tree in the forest, even though we agree that the parable works better if the tree is a tree among trees. By this very extension of the object of the parable, we have already indicated a possible answer to the riddle. What is this answer? It is the contention that no one needs to be present for the fall of the mighty tree – indeed of any tree – to have significance or meaning. This is because the fall, the death of any living thing is of inherent value in itself whether or not anyone is around to see it, record it, mourn the loss or perhaps even bear witness to its passing. For what is life if it is not, in and of itself inherently valuable? But this very answer already poses its own problem and further complicates the riddle and this is because no living thing is satisfied with only the inherent, inalienable worth of its life, its existence? Put another way, we could ask the following question: which living thing, which human being does not like for its/his/her passing to be recorded and mourned? The pure phenomenology of being alive, of having once passed through this time and place in the grand scheme of things in the universe may seem philosophically elegant and pleasing, but it does not seem to suffice for how most living beings, especially humans, wish to live their lives.

    There are of course women and men who do not care much that how and when their passing occurs should be noted. However, such people are in a significant minority among human beings. Why do most people, in all times and places, care so much that their passing should not be anonymous and unremarked? It is perhaps because what happens in and after death is a big, consequential commentary or even judgement on life. On this account if one life, or the many lives of a group of people, end without anyone noticing or recording the event, the conclusion is that the life or lives have, in their entirety, been meaningless. The awesome social critique and ethical commentary implied in the Yoruba notion of “awon asiniwaye” comes to mind here. In a rough translation, this means “expendable fellow travelers that accompanied the real, true and worthy human beings to the world”.

    Summing up, this in effect means that our riddle has an open-ended answer: we can either affirm the philosophically and ethically humanistic “answer” which states that every death, regardless of whether it is noted, recorded or mourned, is inherently worthy in its own right; or we can affirm the contending “answer” that deaths that are unnoted or unrecorded, willfully or accidentally, constitute a powerful commentary on life, the life or lives that the person or the community lived before the moment of death.

    I will not dwell much on the implications of this parable or riddle for our society or, more generally, the world in which we all live at the present time. But I do suggest that the reader think about the number of lives that are lost needlessly every year on the death-traps we call roads and highways and the temporary morgues that we call hospitals and clinics. Even more portentously, I suggest that we reflect on the slow, long drawn out deaths of hundreds of thousands of our peoples every year through the grinding poverty that is structurally and forcibly imposedon them by the cannibalistic looters’ paradise, the predatory political order we call a “democratic”republic. And I ask: how many of these deaths, actual and symbolic, are ever noted or mourned by our leaders?

    Second parable

    This parable is from an Afro-Cuban myth which, generally speaking, goes thus: In the beginning, Olofin created the heavens and the earth; he created all the living things in the world and all the principles and attributes, positive and negative, through whichthey could live in happiness and dignity on the condition that they would always have to find a reconciliation, a synthesis between the positive things and the negative things. It was with this in mind that God created Truth and also created its opposite, Falsehood. To help humankind, he made Truth big and powerful and made Falsehood skinny and weak, though God made him cunning and duplicitous. Also, unbeknownst to Truth, God armed Falsehood with a cutlass.

    For a long time, things worked to the best advantage of human beings: Truth was big and strong and for this reason was very helpful while Falsehood, being only too conscious of his disadvantages, could not wreak havoc with human beings by manipulating the darker inner promptings of their hearts. However, one fateful day, Truth and Falsehood met and a fight ensued between them. Being very big and powerful, Truth felt confident – but also very complacent, perhaps because he did not know that Falsehood had a cutlass.This was why a fight which seemed so uneven ended rather quickly and surprisingly when Falsehood cunningly took out his hidden cutlass and cut off the head of Truth.

    The fight could have ended on that decapitation of Truth if it wasn’t the case that this was a fight, not between ordinary mortals, but between fundamental principles of the universe and their incarnations in Truth and Falsehood. And so, with his head cut off, rather than being finished, Truth felt doubly, trebly empowered. He went scrambling around for his head in order to put it back on his neck and continue the fight. At that point, something of great and everlasting consequence for human beings happened: in scrambling around for his head, Truth accidentally felt the head of Falsehood which he mistakenly took for his own head. His strength being truly awesome, a pull from Truth yanked off the head of Falsehood and this Truth then placed on his neck. And from that day, what we have had in the world is this grotesque and confusing mismatch: the head of Falsehood on the body of Truth.

    We do not have the space in which to explore the full ramifications of this myth, this parable. Beside pointing out that it powerfully encodes the suspicion that we encounter in almost all human societies of the past and the present that “truth” lies more with what we feel in our bodies while the head is the seat of all falsehoods, I only wish in the present context to apply the powerfully suggestive implications of this parable to the “head” as symbol of leadership and the “body” as metaphor for followership in our present political order. Please dear reader and compatriot, look carefully at the terrible tales of suffering and hardship among and within the collective “body” of the followership in every part of the land. Is the “truth” not in plain sight everywhere you look? And then look carefully, compatriot, at the “heads” of nearly all our political institutions and organs of power, law and administration and what do you see? Is it not falsehood everywhere? The headship of government? The headship of the judicial system, the Supreme Court, and its own headship? O The headship of the state governments? Of the legislatures, national and state? Above all else and especially now, at this present time, the headship of the Senate and the House of Reps?

    Third parable

    This third and final parable in our reflections in this piece may seem to have a primarily religious provenance but its ramifications are very wide and affect every sphere of life. Basically, it pertains to what we might call the “end of life or of time” myth or legend. It has recurred again and again throughout recorded history and in diverse regions of the world. Basically, here is what it consists of: an either sudden or gradual feeling of deep and widespread malaise builds up into a conviction, a premonition among large segments of the population that the world is coming to an end. Typically, the religious expression or version of this myth is the most culturally and socially significant, if it is also often the most alarmist. For in most cases, this religious version signifies the coming of a messiah, quite often the Messiah. Needless to say, we have already been hearing echoes of this religious version of the myth in our country for at least a decade now. Definitely, it gathered momentum under the rule of the PDP. Will this chiliastic and apocalyptic myth or parable resurface and gather more strength and volubility during the reign of the new ruling party, the APC? Your guess is as good as mine!

    An interesting version of this myth or parable is that which pertains, not to the end of life or time in general but to the end of things as one generation has known and loved it. Although nearly every generation goes through one or another version of this myth, it is often far more powerfully floated and peddled around among members of some generations more than others. I definitely cannot speak for the generation of my father and of his father before him, but I am pretty sure that my generation in general feels more acutely that between us and the generations of my children and grandchildren, the world, time itself, is coming to an end as we have known and perhaps cherished it, with all the inevitable challenges and crises that we faced. Here’s one of the most troubling expressions of this generalized feeling of angst, of an ineluctable malaise of my generation of Nigeria’s educated elites: merit is gone, the professoriate itself has been degraded beyond belief and repair and so, what will happen to the transmission of knowledge and the social reproduction of intellectual capital in our country. And will this not further decrease or narrow the opportunities for equality of opportunities between the classes in our society?

    Epilogue

    Against the logical thrust of the title of this piece, I will neither say, “take heart, compatriot, things could be worse”, nor say, “be afraid, be very afraid, compatriot, for things will get worse”. Why not? The future is open-ended and our fate lies in our hands. If one set of rulers cannot or will not lead us to the promised land, we cannot and must not give up. The parables or riddles in this piece are all provocations to the mind to raise issues but not to be controlled or limited by the implications of the issues that we raise. That tree that fell in the forest and no one was around to see and record its fall? Well, a dozen other trees have risen and grown in its place. And these new trees sprang from the shoots, from the efflorescence of the fallen tree. That is a testament to the fallen, “asiniwaye” tree having once been here in the forest, in the world.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                                        bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu

  • Sacrifice is tough, ask the chicken, ask Francesco Schettino, ask Speaker Dogara, ask our leaders – and confront them with their reverse sacrifice of the people

    His name, let us recall, is Francesco Schettino, Captain, Francesco Schettino. He was the master of the doomed cruise ship, the Costa Concordia, that nearly capsized in January 2012 when it accidentally hit an underwater rock near Tuscany off the Mediterranean coast of Italy. 32 people comprising mostly passengers and a few members of the crew perished in the disaster. The world now knows of this ship captain as the man who left the damaged and badly listing ship while there were still about a hundred passengers onboard, yet to be evacuated. Indeed, of the three charges that Captain Schettino subsequently faced for which he was given a jail sentence of 16 years, the third is the most serious: failing to be the last man onboard. [The other two charges are manslaughter and abandoning ship while the evacuation of passengers was still going on]As we all know, this charge of “failing to be the last man onboard” has a deeply cherished and indeed almost mystical code of honour behind it that is centuries old. Indeed, of the many acts and behaviors of great opprobrium and dishonor known to the human society in all places and all times, this charge is one of the worst.

    This unsavory matter of Captain Schettino and the Costa Concordia came upin a recent conversation between myself and my friend, Femi Osofisan. Currently, we are both senior fellows at an international research center at the Free University of Berlin where we are sharing an office. The conversation in question was prompted by our reactions to the published text of a lecture given by our friend, Niyi Osundare, “the people’s poet”. Osundare’s lecture was given to mark the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Colonel Adekunle Fajuyi in July 1966 in the second of the two bloody military coups of that year. For readers of this piece who were either not yet born in 1966 or were too young then to have been able to incorporate the cause of Fajuyi’s assassination into their moral imagination as members of my generation have done, here’s the relevant fact to bear in mind: the coup-makers who killed Fajuyi were not after him, they were after General Aguiyi-Ironsi, Head of State and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.Aguiyi-Ironsi was on a visit to the Western Region where Fajuyi was the military governor; the head of state was therefore the guest of the military governor. In effect, when the coup-makers came for Aguiyi-Ironsi and requested of Fajuyi to hand over his guest and commander-in-chief to them, they were presenting him with an ultimatum that was clear to everyone involved: either you hand over your guest to us and save your own life or you refuse and die with him. Fajuyi’s choice sent him to his grave in an act of self-sacrifice whose legendary heroism was the subject of Osundare’s lecture that sparked that conversation between Osofisan and myself that is the cause, the instigation for this piece.

    I ask anyone reading this piece who has not yet done so to read Osundare’s lecture on Fajuyi. It is deep and wide in its reflections on both heroism itself and the need for it in our society in particular and all human societies in general. Moving between and around two antithetical propositions – unhappy is the land that has no heroes; and unhappy is the land that has a need for heroes –Osundare in his lecture moved heroism from the lofty, fairy-tale universe of saints and superheroes to the real world of crucial human weaknesses or strengths that predispose us toward how we either memorialize and treasure heroism and self-sacrifice for the public good or, conversely, ignore or rubbish them in acts of cynical opportunism, selfishness and downright impunity. Thus, the logic of Osundare’s Fajuyi lecture is truly sobering in its implications for the nature and scope of public (a)morality in our country at the present time: in a society that is doubly unhappy because it both has a need for heroes and lacks heroes, things can get so bad that anti-heroism becomes so widespread and rampant that it becomes itself a sort of “heroism”. In other words, this is a perverse “heroism” in which heroic self-sacrifice is turned into sacrifice of others, especially of the poor and the looted, for the wealth, the security and the happiness of the leaders. Is this not what the unspeakable impunity and notoriety of the case regarding the “padding” of the 2016 budget by the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Hon Yakubu Dogara, amounts to?

    Please note that even without the “padding”, Speaker Dogara is quite easily one of the two or three highest paid public officeholders in the whole wide world. His salary, emoluments and allowances in one year alone amount to more than what dozens of professors and lecturers in our public universities will get in retirement over several decades. But this apparently is not enough for the Honourable Speaker and so, of course, the national budget is illegally and immorally “padded” to add more billions to the Speaker’s remunerative “take-away”. Meanwhile, Dogara makes sure that all the members of the House are implicated and will get their own individual shares of the “take-away” bonanza. Meanwhile also, from the presidency and from the leaders of the Party, mixed, complicit signals and/or silence. Since there’s a lot of talk in the land about sacrifice in a time of severe economic hardship, this can only mean sacrifice of the many for the few, of the ruled for the rulers, a sort of reverse sacrifice which, though very common in history, is far less talked about than the heroic self-sacrifice of kings, nobles, warriors and saints about whom we learn so much from history books and collections of patriotic nationalist or “tribal” songs, poems, tales, and dances.Before concluding this article on this tradition of the reverse sacrifice that unjust rulers and leaders have always both demanded and extracted from the people, a few words about sacrifice itself is perhaps in order. More specifically, this is about the great physical and moral challenge that self-sacrifice always poses, as revealed in that part of the title of this essay that asserts that sacrifice is tough, very tough.

    “Father, father, why have thou forsaken me?” [Matthew 27:46]. In this famous and widely discussed sentence from the holy book of the Christians, the pain, the terror of the impending death overcame the resolve of Jesus Christ. Even though it was a temporary, passing experience, it is immensely portentous and bears testimony to the fact that sacrifice in general and self-sacrifice in particular is very rarely undertaken willingly and with complete resignation. It is important to emphasize this because there are countless sacred and secular accounts avowing precisely the opposite of this fact, in effect alleging that if the sacrificial agent or volunteer is psychologically and/or ritually well-prepared, he, she or they will go to their death willingly, even ecstatically. With the probable exception of the Japanese tradition of the hara-kiri and the suicide bombers of the jihadist terrorist groups of contemporary society, the sacrificial agent or “volunteer” is axiomatically not too enthusiastic about self-immolation. As a matter of fact, this is precisely why for most of us alive at this very moment in history, we are in total bewilderment at the audacity, the “madness” of the suicide bombers because their acts do not accord well with our view of human nature. And it is on account of this view of human nature with its powerful reservation about, or evenabhorrence of self-sacrifice that all the religious traditions of the world without exception gradually and inexorably moved away either completely from sacrifice in general and/or human sacrifice most especially. Which is why, in an admittedly humorous vein, I include the chicken in the list in the title to this piece: if you could pose the question to chickens and other animals typically or normatively used as sacrificial creatures, they will no doubt tell you that they do not wish to be sacrificed, thank you very much! The case of the chicken is “useful” because it underscores and at the same time exposes one of the most important and insistent ethical, physical and psychological problems of sacrifice, this being the fact that if and where the willingness of the sacrificial object or subject is not self-evident, we err in assuming the freely given participation of the agent, the “volunteer”. If all the chickens and goats, the rams and the dogs, and the “strangers” and the “misfits” that have ever been sacrificed could wake from the dead, talk and tell their stories, the heavens will open up to indict and punish us with orgies of severe mortifications of the body and the spirit!

    I certainly do not wish to end this piece with a suggestion, no matter how muted and implicit, that willing, noble and selfless sacrifice for the public good and the survival of the community, especially in times of great adversity and crisis, is rare among human beings, whether as individuals or as entire communities. This is far, far from the case. Indeed, as I write these words, in many places in the world, individuals and groups of very courageous and high-minded people are making sacrifices of great heroism to keep hope alive and salvage what they can of dignity and security of life in conditions of war, terror and dislocation of unspeakable proportions, the latest reports from Aleppo, Syria, being a case in point. But from Aleppo it is a long way to Abuja. Speaker Dogara is absolutely unambiguous in declaring to the nation that he and the legislative assembly that he heads expect nothing but great sacrifices from us to keep him and the other “Honourables” happy and contented. Reverse sacrifice has a long history in human affairs and its latest incarnation in the leadership of our new ruling party should be seen in the refracted light of this long tradition. So dear reader, when next you hear talk of “sacrifices” to be made in these difficult times from our rulers, know that the sacrifice is from YOU to them, not from them to and for all of us. You see the world better and clearer when you know what your rulers are really saying in their duplicitous talk of sacrifices, sacrifices and more sacrifices.

    Biodun Jeyifo                                                                                               bjeyifo@fas.harvard.edu