By Idowu Akinlotan

Last Wednesday, the amorphous Coalition of Northern Groups (CNG) announced the formation of a regional security outfit called Shege-Ka-Fasa (Hausa term for ‘I dare you’) to tackle banditry and all forms of criminality in the region. It is an imitation of Operation Amotekun (Western Nigeria Security Network) launched a few weeks ago to controversial reception by the federal government.

Its sponsors, who concede that unlike Operation Amotekun, they are non-state actors, disclosed that their outfit would do the following, among other things: “In addition to performing general complementary tasks for enhancing security in the region, the outfit shall also coordinate operations against the influx of hard drugs to the North, take steps to neutralize all centres of gravity for the supply, manufacturer and distribution of such drugs and other dangerous substances.

Coordinate vigilance to check and expose illegal arms trade, supply channels and possession and guard against the theft and illegal traffic in kids and other vulnerable sections of the northern population as well as expose operations of fraudsters like the Yahoo boys whose ill-gotten wealth forms part of the source of funding for the drug and arms trade.”

Operation Amotekun, despite being a group initiative to combat crime and restore the Southwest region to the normality it had enjoyed for decades, is still hamstrung by federal opposition and general suspicion. Operation Shege-Ka-Fasa is strictly the initiative of a coalition of youths who enjoy probably some covert support from a few undisclosed quarters.

It has been repudiated by critical stakeholders in the North. Not only does it not enjoy support from governments in the region, it does not make sense for any group of non-state actors to band themselves together and assume omnibus responsibility for peace and tranquillity on behalf of the states in the region. It is unlikely to go the distance, regardless of the covert support it has garnered from certain quarters.

In the Southwest, Operation Shege-Ka-Fasa is viewed as a bad imitation to give Operation Amotekun a bad name. Amotekun advocates suspect that the absurdity surrounding the hasty formation of the informal security outfit in the North could give the federal government the pretext to become more intransigent to other regional security outfits.

Sponsors of Operation Shege-Ka-Fasa have been careful not to denigrate other regional efforts, but no one is fooled about its motives — to imitate Amotekun to death. They know there is no way they can get the regional assent necessary to entrench their unrealistic outfit and get it running. And they know they cannot fund it without the northern states signing in on it.

However, as foolish as Operation Shege-Ka-Fasa might sound, and notwithstanding the impossibility of getting the North to embrace and fund it, it will not be the last challenge to a republic that has proved supremely self-destructive and incompetent to sustain itself or maintain law and order.

By Idowu Akinlotan

Shortly before they met President Muhammadu Buhari last Monday, Senate President Ahmed Lawan and Speaker of the House of Representatives Femi Gbajabiamila had spoken publicly about what the president was not doing in combating insecurity. In their widely quoted speeches, the excitable legislative leaders aggregated the tough and fiery rhetoric of lawmakers who described Nigeria’s security system as ineffective while also calling on the president to sack his service chiefs.

The media even summed up Sen Lawan’s position as locating Nigeria at a ‘tipping point’. The legislative leaders’ epiphany on both insecurity and the complacency of security chiefs surprised many  people. This is because when they took office, their initial posturing and statements had characterised the 9th National Assembly (NASS) as subservient and conniving, and the public had promptly dismissed them as incorrigible, if not worse than the contentious 8th NASS. To, therefore, hear the lawmakers declaiming fiercely on insecurity to the point of calling for the sack of service chiefs was baffling, unprecedented and, in a little perverse way, reassuring.

But something immediately told critics that when eventually the legislative leaders meet the president on the subject of insecurity, it is either their courage would fail them or their language, previously fiery and resolute, would become greatly attenuated or at best equivocatory. The critics based their conclusions on the antecedents of the 9th NASS which, together with their leaders, had shown an unmistakeable predilection for cooperation with the executive branch, and an even more alarming inclination for genuflection.

The truth about the country’s insecurity problem was adequately reflected when the matter was debated in parliament, but it was a truth that was bound to be mollified when the security chiefs met the parliament or when the legislative leaders met the president. Days later, with the security chiefs spurning a meeting with the parliament, the other awesome meeting at last took place between the president and Sen Lawan and Hon Gabajabiamila. For a problem that was so massive and all-encompassing, the meeting lasted for only about an hour, according to some reports, where the idea of sacking the service chiefs was quickly put to the guillotine.

Emerging from the meeting, not only did the parliamentary leaders begin to hem and haw, they incredibly almost turned full circle, rationalising and defending the president’s nebulous approach and the service chiefs’ jaded panaceas. For a massive and increasingly complex security problem that needed new paradigms and philosophies, if not altogether new political structures, parliamentary leaders began mouthing the usual and indefensible approach of throwing money at problems. Indeed, by the time Hon Gbajabiamila briefed reporters about what they discussed with the president, there was very little reference to any search for new security chiefs; there was only talk about looking for more money to deal with insecurity. While the Speaker of the House of Representatives was preachy, polemical and even dialectical, the Senate President was largely evasive, empathetic and anxious not to completely eat his words.

Asked whether the issue of the sack of the service chiefs came up for discussion, Sen Lawan responded, “We discussed everything that matters as far as the issue of security of this country is concerned. We believe that it is imperative that we are able to provide those necessary equipment and welfare for the armed forces of this country and the police to ensure that they are able to operate and performed efficiently and effectively.” Pressed further on what the president said specifically, he answered: “Mr. President was forthcoming; of course as the leader of this country he is more worried than anybody else about the situation. So we are on the same page that we should be able to do whatever it takes to ensure that the security agencies are able to perform better than they are doing now.”

Still not satisfied that he seemed to be evading the issue of security chiefs’ sack, reporters asked him what he thought about replacing the security chiefs. He responded: “You see, in matters of security of course as leaders we are supposed to lead, but when it concerns security, every single citizen matters in this. So it is for all of us, citizens and leaders to ensure that we are playing our part as it is necessary. But I believe that now the time has come, we have reached a tipping point that everybody in Nigeria is concerned about the security situation and therefore we are all prepared and that is why we have come to meet with Mr. President…” You will have to be inured to logic not to know that the NASS leaders simply went and capitulated to the president.

Hon Gbajabiamila was, however, more forthcoming in his answers, inadvertently indicating how totally they capitulated last Monday, and why. He responded to virtually the same set of questions. Hear him at his dialectical best: “Is the President as concerned as we are? Answer: probably more. Is the President looking to do something about it? Answer: yes. The question of security is uppermost in his mind and he opened up to us and you must understand that some communications are privileged, but suffice to say that the President is concerned and he intends to do something about our challenges…Opinions are divided; the generality of the opinion is that the service chiefs should go, that was evident in our debates in the House of Representatives and in the Senate, but sometimes you don’t want a knee-jerk reaction…Many of us identify that something drastic has to be done, there’s also the school of thought that says since we are talking about banditry, kidnapping, and murders, what have the armed forces got to do with that, anywhere in the world? So the question then arises that if he changes the service chiefs, does that address the issues of kidnapping and banditry? The army, navy and air force are outfits set up to tackle external aggression. It is the police that is set up for internal security, such as we are all witnessing.”

If the reader is not convinced that the parliamentary leaders went to Aso VIlla smoking hot and came out with glacial calmness, then at least recognise how ingeniously Hon Gbajabiamila framed the resoluteness of lawmakers as a knee-jerk reaction. More, recognise also that the greatest defenders of the executive and the security chiefs will henceforth be parliamentary leaders.

They will allow lawmakers to huff and puff over sensitive issues, but in the end, the executive branch and parliamentary leaders will pour cold water on the incendiaries. The country may not like Sen Lawan’s and Hon Gbajabiamila’s responses, but there is no question that both men are not overrated. To meet the president with fiery parliamentary resolutions calling for radical changes and still come out brilliantly to defend why those radical changes cannot be countenanced at this point takes rhetorical genius that even the cantankerous Sen Bukola Saraki, former Senate President, could not manage in his four turbulent years in office.

The president’s position is, however, not unassailable simply because the gifted rhetoricians, Sen Lawan and Hon Gbajabiamila, experienced an epiphany. President Buhari does not like to be stampeded even when he is wrong. But on the matter of his security chiefs, he is not only wrong, it is clear that he is unable to draw the connection between the complacency and insularity of his service chiefs and the widening gyre of insecurity suffocating the country.

He thinks the problem is one of military weapons and more money, and has incredibly convinced the supposedly enlightened parliamentary leaders that the problem would respond to more money and weapons. How anyone can look at Nigeria’s warped structure, unrepresentative leaders and general lack of depth at very high levels and conclude that a radical rethink of strategies and new security chiefs are not needed, is truly baffling. How can the country be wrong and only the presidency right? And just what is the mettle of parliamentary leaders when they can be so easily swayed by poor logic and oversimplification of issues?

Insecurity has manifested in a pattern that is clear for serious analysts to understand its dynamics and how it can be tackled. The entire country is experiencing a low-scale war. The North, however, has become a seething cauldron of violence and unrest, so total that it is clear no sophisticated guns and bombs can stanch the flow of blood. A population explosion has occurred in the North, and opportunities and jobs are unavailable on a scale to match the explosion. With education not given enough attention over the years, a shrinking Lake Chad, and irresponsible birth rate, the region is primed for a conflagration.

Bombs and guns will neither make even a small dent on the gigantic problem nor can the situation be reversed in the short run. It will take years of deliberate, disciplined and relevant policies to begin to reverse the predicted apocalypse. The future has caught up with the country suddenly. In fact, the insecurity manifesting in the North is a reflection of how poorly the country’s leaders have grasped the problem, and how unwisely they have reduced the problem to one of sterner military and police counteractions. Now, the insecurity triggered by dire socio-economic conditions and worsening alienation in the North is spreading to other parts of the country, eliciting unorthodox remedial security measures which many fear could doom the republic. The problem is compounded by the fact that the government is unable to read the spreading anomie, and can’t also properly interpret the remedial security measures embarked upon at regional levels as indicative of state failure.

After five years in office, and with the security crisis spiralling out of control, which the president even seems perplexed to explain, it is strange that presidency officials do not see the problem as calling for a thorough rethink of the dynamics at play, a rethink of strategy and personnel, and a comprehensive reordering of priorities. Bandits, kidnappers, rustlers and herdsmen promoting ethnic cleansing measures do not suddenly get up and go rogue. There must be underlying factors.

The presidency has not shown that its senior appointees understand the underlying issues, nor has it convinced the country it can link those issues with the insecurity that is manifesting and worsening. But whether the president understands these issues or not, especially given the way he has expressed surprise, he must understand that it is not the opposition or unknown political forces that are undermining his government. The factors leading to widespread insecurity began a long time ago, and years of miscomprehension of the problems coupled with a pigheaded and self-righteous approach to solving it are making it intractable and producing a class of criminals who have nothing to lose, not even their lives.

The National Assembly has not helped the president by failing to stand firm and be combative over worsening insecurity. When they debated the matter, they mirrored popular sentiment, and courageously came out with sensible and feasible resolutions. The president has also not helped himself by viewing criticisms of and antagonism to some of his policies and appointments as either an affront to his office or a national security challenge.

The public on their own are dismayed by their helplessness and hopelessness, while the country is exploding before their very eyes, in some instances even assuming religious colourations. If the president does not climb down from his high horse, if he does not abandon his controversial policies that have clearly failed to work, and if he does not find the good sense to rejig his security team, the situation may deteriorate to a point where he will begin to toy with either declaration of emergency or emergency rule. Once he gets to that slippery slope, there will be no turning back. Not only will the problem worsen, especially with abuses counted and painted in ethnic and religious colours, he will also find that the problems exacerbating insecurity have been left severely unattended to.

By Idowu Akinlotan

The Supreme Court has recently become quite controversial. Indeed, the expectation today is that once a political case gets to the apex court, the jurists’ fondness for controversy will very likely have the better of them or become accentuated.

Law experts are befuddled by how blithely the court overthrows or undermines its own precedents, and how indifferently it gives decisions that seem to stand the law on its head. But the court remains the final judicial authority in the land. Its judgements may be suspected and denounced, with beneficiaries lauding what they describe as judicial resoluteness, and victims excoriating judicial bias and executive interference; but once the judgements are given, there is no more appeal, except, in the words of a former Kano State governor, Abubakar Rimi, it is overridden by the judgement of God.

Both in the 2015 controversial Kogi governorship case, wherein the apex court sustained the anomalous and belated introduction of Yahaya Bello into the governorship race, and the Imo State judicial upheaval enacted when it rubbished the election tribunal and Court of Appeal judgements, controversy has become second nature to the apex court.

In Imo, Emeka Ihedioha, initially declared by the electoral body as winner of the governorship poll, was overthrown after about seven months in office through a decision that has left many legal experts thoroughly flummoxed. There are many more decided cases that have kept legal experts fidgeting. But in both the Kogi and Imo cases, critics have dubbed the apex court as either subordinate to the executive arm or incapable of displaying any form of consistency and true independence.

This is, however, not to join hands with critics to decipher the court’s inscrutable wisdom. This is just to wonder what has become of the conceptual foundation of the Supreme Court. Controversies are expected in the lower courts, even up to the Court of Appeal, and when cases become considerably or inexplicably muddled up by a lack of judicial profundity at the lower courts, the apex court is expected to be the final clarifier, arbiter and philosopher — the end of controversy and confusion. Instead, for reasons that may even be unclear to the Supreme Court itself, it has become the one that knots things up quite a bit. This has led many experts to describe a certain past epoch in judicial history as the golden age of the Supreme Court. Can that age be regained? Not with the deeply contorted and heavily politicised manner judges are appointed.

What is even now more perplexing is that legal comedians are beginning to suggest that perhaps it might be time to ask for the Privy Council (Judicial Committee of the Privy Council established by Colonial Britain for its overseas territories) to be returned. It was abolished in 1963 when Nigeria became a republic. At least the Privy Council, say the humorists, can be trusted to retain the gravitas the Nigerian Supreme Court has seemed to disdain so openly.

By Idowu Akinlotan

After many false steps, proponents of the controversial Southwest security apparatus, Western Nigeria Security Network (WNSN), aka Operation Amotekun, have had their tentative way. From being stridently opposed to it, a response informally and haughtily communicated to regional leaders by Attorney General of the Federation (AGF) and Justice minister Abubakar Malami, the federal government has in principle approved a modified version of the regional security organ.

The Southwest governors who met with representatives of the presidency were neither averse to the meeting, which took place last Thursday, nor upset with the modifications, which seemed to compensate for the awkward spadework that accompanied its founding. It is strange that any kind of approval was needed, given the fact that Nigeria theoretically subscribes to federalism; but too many loose ends were created by the hurry and publicity with which the very popular measure was adopted that few observers paid any close attention to the details.

Vice President Yemi Osinbajo chaired the meeting. Other than the governors, in attendance were the Inspector General of Police (IGP), Mohammed Adamu, and Mr Malami. The knotty issues and questions that entangled Amotekun were too well known to make the meeting protracted. The parameters were quickly agreed upon, and the Southwest governors were sent on their way to make amends.

The meeting was not bad-tempered, and Amotekun did not get short shrift. After the hullabaloo of the previous week, and the acrimonious debate and posturing and political baiting that followed the launching of the security organ, it was remarkable that the pressures were so quickly dissipated. The Southwest governors appeared even relieved, the federal government seemed conciliatory, and the public, particularly the Southwest public, seemed bemused. What was all the hoopla about?

Two things were uppermost in the minds of those who met on Amotekun last Thursday. One, the governors must return to their states and give legal teeth to the proposed security organ; and two, that there is no constitutional anchor to regionally legislate such a body. The governors will, therefore, find a sensible way to achieve their common desire of securing the region without gouging out the eyes of the constitution.

They seemed to give the impression that they could find an ingenious way out of that logjam. But whether their ingenuity would diminish the practicability and potency of Amotekun is a poser they will be hard put to give a ready answer now. More, south-westerners seem to have one idealistic view or the other of Amotekun; would they in the final analysis be satisfied with the compromise reached between their governors and the federal government? No one can tell at the moment.

One thing is, however, clear. The furore surrounding Amotekun has revealed many disturbing and unsettling things about the federal government, Southwest regional politics, and the health of Nigerian politics and issues surrounding national peace and stability. These revelatory signs indicate just how poorly developed Nigerian politics is, despite two failed attempts at democracy and more than 20 years into a rather vibrant Fourth Republic. The Fourth Republic may enjoy an unbroken spell lasting decades, but it has not seemed to generate enough oxygen of rich democratic experience that should therapeutically course through the entire body politic, particularly the sinews of the constitution. In discussing these revelatory signs, Nigerians will hopefully find the knowledge and vision to reconsider the building blocks of their republic and find the discipline to recalibrate their constitution and their national raison d’être.

In any discussion of the deep-seated problems Amotekun has fortuitously exposed, the federal government, or more critically, the presidency, must merit the first mention. Amotekun was in the news for months, and in the past few weeks became very controversial because of its implication, rightly or wrongly, for unity, ethnic politics, regionalism, federalism, and even secessionism. Whether before it became deeply controversial or after, the federal government or one or two of its agencies did nothing more than enter into discussions with advocates of the regional security organ. The government controls the national security council, but there was no indication that it ever tabled the subject for discussions. The president himself, who was expected to have an overarching view of national security and stability, gave no indication that he knew what to do with the matter. Amotekun was dominant in the news for weeks, sometimes accompanied by fiery rhetoric about its constitutionality and practicability in a multiethnic and multireligious society, so no government agency or elected leader could feign ignorance of the existence of the proposal. Yet, nothing was done or said about it. There were indications that the Southwest governors sought to meet minds with the presidency, but nothing came out of that too. It was only when a date for its launching had been set that the AGF cast doubt over its constitutionality. That is not the way to run a country or a government.

If the presidency was unsure how to respond, or even feared that its intervention might be construed as inimical to federalism, or had not been approached for discussions by the Southwest governors, did it ask for a meeting with the sponsors of Amotekun, and through its security agencies gauged the feelings of the region to weigh the popularity of the proposed security organ? In the months and possibly years ahead, the federal government will have to find a more balanced and healthier way of looking at some of these issues that have implications for federalism and national stability. It has not shown that it can competently do such examinations, or impress it upon the minds of apprehensive Nigerians that it has the capacity to even reflect and take a futuristic view of potentially divisive issues. But it must, sooner or later. If it does not, it will lose the initiative. Amotekun nearly sundered interethnic relations in the country. If the government is honest, it must acknowledge that the danger is not yet over.

The ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), must also share in the blame for the clumsy way the government, their government, has managed the issue of Amotekun. Not only has the government incompetently staffed and managed the country’s security system, there is no indication at all that the self-absorbed APC, as a party, has found a way to connect with its elected officials to make powerful input into exigent national issues. Amotekun is the brainchild of five Southwest states controlled by the APC and one PDP-controlled state.

Three of the APC states were enthusiastic about the proposed security network, and two displayed grudging acceptance; but overall, they all acknowledged the need for Amotekun and were too sensible not to know that it was risky to disavow it. The national secretariat of the party should have waded in, meet minds with the Southwest APC governors, advise the federal government about the potential of the proposal to generate a ripple effect on the party, and find ways to manage it without damaging its future electoral prospects. Instead, it kept quiet and allowed the matter to seethe uncontrollably. Surely, there is more to running a party than seeking to change its working committee or fighting themselves.

But by far the most engaging in the Amotekun brouhaha is the Southwest itself, a region so fractured and regicidal that it sometimes gives the impression that it is inured to its political environment. Amotekun undoubtedly accords with their conception of federalism, and triggers their innermost and nostalgic feeling of who they are, how they conducted and advanced themselves between 1952 and 1959, and their regret about the general underdevelopment they have been constrained by their association with the rest of Nigeria to endure. Until Amotekun was launched, it seemed to many south-westerners that it was a fanciful project of uncertain possibilities, one which, even to a faction of Afenifere, was nothing but a dispiriting tokenism capable of vitiating the real demand for restructuring.

But once Mr Malami seemed to voice the federal opposition to the scheme, and seemed to lend weight and force to yet another disgraceful federal attempt to truncate a minimally and constitutionally permissible expression of federalist principles, the opposition to the government coalesced and support for Amotekun was galvanised. Worse, and instinctively, the eternally fractious region returned to its default mode of fighting one another at the same time as fighting outsiders or an oppressive federal government. There are on the whole two or so political tendencies in the region. Quickly, Amotekun became the lightning rod of that division, with one group unwisely and pugnaciously setting the boundaries no one must cross. They began to demand that their leaders shaped up or shipped out.

The lessons of history became, sadly, lost on them again. In their history, Ilorin was lost because of the divisions among them, while the Fulani advanced into their territory because of rivalry, suspicion and a lack of united vision regarding their past, present and future. Not having learnt enough lesson from their history, and deliberately twisting and conjuring history for the purpose of engendering scaremongering, they descended into abuse, acrimony, mischief and plain absurdity. Those outside the region who didn’t love Amotekun simply smiled. They had become the kryptonite of the Southwest. They knew instinctively where to turn the screw and get the stubborn and proud region fighting themselves. They knew how to get the squabbling and bickering Southwest to take its eyes off the ball. It is remarkable that for a region that claims to be so advanced in politics and civilisation, who knew the value of checks and balances while the English were still scurrying around over Magna Carta, and who have consistently decried the country’s unitary constitution, differences of opinion and tactics could become treasonable.

For the Southwest which claims to be very enlightened, how could they not appreciate that the first time a Yoruba man won a presidential poll was because he reached out, appeared less Yoruba than he really was, and propagated a secular redefinition of religion at the same time as exuding the most controversial iconoclasm that drove the Southwest up the wall. Before the Southwest again won the presidency in 1999, the victorious candidate had to almost repudiate his Yorubanness in order to appeal to more voters around the country. To, therefore, make Amotekun proof positive of a politician’s fidelity to south-western principles and values is not only childish and short-sighted, it is baffling that it even gained currency. Neither the North nor the East has been so immature and so pretentious. Amotekun is concerned with the survival, peace and security of the Southwest. Sadly and disgracefully, and because of a lack of reflection and in consonance with a strand of Southwest politics that elevates controversial issues into zero-sum games, it quickly became a plebiscite on who was more Oodua than the other.

Amotekun makes sense, and it is not unconstitutional. But as many analysts now realise, and as the Southwest governors have seemed to concede, it can be operated along a slightly different line than originally thought. It can be enabled by state laws, and made to run along lines that encourage regional security cooperation. If the leading proponents of Amotekun had widened their consultations, and had sponsored behind-the-scene debates about its conception and feasibility, they would probably have refrained from launching it before the enabling laws are put in place and its operational guidelines fine-tuned and showcased as examples of the Southwest’s thoughtfulness and thoroughness. There is clearly no killing or attenuating Amotekun. But it will be rejigged and eventually made to serve the purpose for which it was conceived, regardless of the reservations of a federal government that has woefully failed to secure the country and seems to be at sea over what to do next to return the country to its relatively peaceful and nostalgic past.

By Idowu Akinlotan

Hopefully the Southwest will find the administrative know-how and courage to get their regional security apparatus, nicknamed Operation Amotekun or Western Nigeria Security Network (WNSN, fully operational.

Launched last Thursday, it is one more proof of the untenable political structure that has left the country politically, socially and economically disoriented and prostrate.

Amotekun should be made to work, for indeed it can work. All states in the Southwest should be fully committed to making it work, and must continue to fund and equip it.

There are doubts about the enthusiasm of federal authorities for the new regional security organ. This is expected, and they may even sabotage it. But if they were impotent in the face of the Sharia police, Hisbah, it would be unwise of them to attempt to derail WNSN.

The latter is more relevant to the safety and wellbeing of the people than the former.

By Idowu Akinlotan

In the best of times, the United States appears incapable of displaying as much savvy as its enormous military power has sought to impress upon the world. Those best of times perhaps represent the reflective leadership of John F. Kennedy, Barack Obama, Richard Nixon, George Bush Snr and a few others. In the worst of times, particularly under the chaotic and emotive Donald Trump, America’s foreign policy is pedestrian, gung ho, short-sighted and megalomaniacal.

Even if the US gets away with the state-sanctioned murder of Maj.-Gen. Qasem Soleimani, head of the Iranian Quds Force and pivot of the country’s foreign and expansionist policy in the Middle East, the killing on January 3, 2020 near the Baghdad Airport in Iraq may have already set in motion events that will hasten the diminution of US power and relevance in the troubled region.

The killing of the Iranian general was a misadventure matched only by the 2003 invasion of Iraq and probably exceeded by the consequent and naive regime change ordered by George Bush Jr. The Americans were too fixated on deposing Saddam Hussein to notice that they were also in effect altering the balance of power in the region. Not only did they get rid of Mr Hussein, they also deposed the Sunni minority that had ruled Iraq for decades and was more favourably disposed towards the Americans. Almost immediately, the more strident Shiites rose to dominance and tilted the balance of power in favour of their Shiite kindred in Iran. It is unlikely the US reflected on the consequences of enlarging the power base of the Shiites in the region.

Now, more foolishly, by murdering Gen Soleimani in Iraq, they may be signposting the inevitable end of their stay and influence in Iraq, if not in the immediate future, then in the medium run. The Iranian general is popular in Iraq due to the role he played in helping them fight and defeat the Daesh or Islamic State (ISIS). US policies in the Middle East have not always been robust. Now they are set to be even less robust, less reflective, less inclined towards the long term, and more inclined to uniting the enemies of America, whether in Yemen, Iraq or Iran. Endorsing and practicing state murder cannot be a sound policy, not to talk of bleeding its economy through decades of needless and futile foreign wars, especially at the same time as US rivals like China and Russia are wisely conserving their strength and resources and channelling them towards the goals of rebuilding and expansion.

Mr Trump cannot be redeemed. His foreign policy goals are flighty and uncharted, and his mind is a feverish soup of discordant and narcissistic pranks. After he blunders through the Soleimani assassination misadventure, and egged on by his fanatical and unquestioning base, he will in his customary mental discontinuity embrace other more far-fetched domestic and international adventures. There is nothing in his mental constitution to modulate the make-believe world in which he dangerously luxuriates, and he lacks the capacity to match the challenges of the present with the possibilities of the future. If he does not furnish the US with a needless war soon, he will rake up more disgust and antipathy towards the country that has promoted him far above his competence and ken.

Will there be a third world war? Yes, but not from this incident, despite Iranians uniting behind their leaders and having less to lose than the US.

By Idowu Akinlotan

Those who know Governor Babagana Zulum of Borno State attest to the fact that he can sometimes be volatile. But they insist the professor of engineering is a man of character who seldom backs down from a position he knows is unimpeachable. It was, therefore, not surprising that on January 6, 2020, on his way to Jakana on the Maiduguri-Damaturu highway, he blew his top when he discovered that bribe-taking soldiers had held up traffic for hours pinning down thousands of travellers and hundreds of vehicles. Those manning the checkpoint where the governor had a heated exchange with soldiers feigned indifference to the security implications of massing thousands of people in one spot in a war zone.

Prof Zulum was exasperated to discover that the reason for the lockdown was extortion, with soldiers demanding N500 or N1,000 from travellers and motorists, particularly those without a national identity card. “I’m going to report all of you in this unit… nobody can tolerate this,” the governor had bellowed. “Boko Haram is attacking people and you are here collecting N1000 per car…This is unacceptable… How can you subject people to this kind of torture all in the name of National ID card? And you are all here collecting N500 and N1000 from poor travellers who don’t have national ID card…No, this is not right. The federal government has not created an enabling environment for our people to get their national ID cards, and you are here collecting N500 and N1000 as a fine for not having what the federal government has not provided for all.”

The army later explained that the lockdown was because of some skirmishes with elements of Boko Haram along the highway. Face-to-face with the governor at the checkpoint, they were silent on the ID card issue, and also refused to confirm that any soldier asked for or took a bribe. Later, after regaining their composure, the army, through their media coordinator, Aminu Iliyasu, issued a censorious statement that gave the governor a slap on the wrist. The allegations would be investigated, they said, but it was impolitic of any state executive to engage in public outburst. Said Col Iliyasu: “The Nigerian Army as a professional and disciplined institution views such allegations seriously, particularly coming from a state executive. It is on record that, whenever such allegations of troops’ misconduct were made in the past, the Nigerian Army never failed in conducting thorough investigations to establish them and where any infractions were established against any personnel, appropriate sanctions were applied in line with extant rules and regulations as provided for in the Armed Forces Act CAP A20 Laws of the Federation of Nigeria.”

Still pressing their argument, the army continued: “The Nigerian Army wishes to assure the good people of Borno State and indeed the nation at large that any allegations of misconduct by Nigerian Army troops will be duly investigated and culprits will be dealt with accordingly. However, it is important to unequivocally observe that public outburst particularly by eminent personalities such as a State Executive could be counterproductive and indeed capable of reversing the gains recorded so far in the ongoing fight against insurgents and other criminal elements across the nation.” Whether it was time that cooled the governor’s temper or the public rebuke by the army, Prof Zulum walked back a little on his outburst by reiterating his and Borno State’s support for the army, particularly the life-sacrificing role they are playing in the Northeast war theatre. According to the governor, speaking through his spokesperson, Isa Gusau, “Yesterday’s (January 6) encounter does not and will not change the very high regard the governor has for all the security personnel operating in Borno, particularly soldiers who give up their lives and safety in finding peace for Borno.”

But underlying the army’s response, as can be gleaned from their statement, are their lack of contrition and the consistent but dangerous overtone of superiority over civil authority. Despite their frequent denial of insubordination to civil authority and constant affirmation of loyalty, the military in Nigeria still struggles with the clear constitutional provision to subordinate themselves to orders and directives from elected governments. They did not openly dispute Prof Zulum’s right to censure them in the performance of their duties, but they resented that it happened in the open, probably bringing them down a peg or two in the esteem of the public. Such habitual resistant to censure and correction explains why they continue to find fault with Amnesty International’s periodic and unflattering report of their sometimes misconduct in the theatre of war, and even elsewhere far removed from the war front. It explains why sometimes on their own they initiate and conduct operations or publish behavioural guidelines for the civil populace without deeming it necessary to carry the public along or even secure the imprimatur of the legislature.

It was nothing but an affront to declare in their response to the Borno State governor that, “…it is important to unequivocally observe that public outburst particularly by eminent personalities such as a state executive could be counterproductive and indeed capable of reversing the gains recorded so far in the ongoing fight against insurgents and other criminal elements across the nation.” Indeed, this is blackmail. How on earth could a governor’s reprimand lead to battlefield reverses, when in fact by cajoling soldiers to place lighter burdens on travelling Nigerians their public esteem would rise significantly? The governor observed the checkpoint bribery at close quarters, and travellers attested to that nefarious behaviour. How would criticising that behaviour become counterproductive, as the army argued?

It was not necessary for the army to respond immediately to Prof Zulum’s outburst beyond promising to investigate the allegations. They should have just noted the allegations, acknowledged the sufferings the people underwent at checkpoints, and promised to get to the bottom of the problem, with an assurance that they would re-examine their methods and ensure that they gained or regained the confidence of the people on whose behalf they policed the roads in the first instance. But consistent with a culture that has pervaded their operations in the past few decades, a culture some powerful Western countries have repeatedly deplored, the army rushed out a prepared statement and insinuated that states blighted by insurgency should be so grateful that whatever complaints they have must either be muted or privately enunciated.

It is time the Nigerian military began to take a deep and frank look at their sullied image, methods, processes and vision. Just how professional do they want to be? What image do they want to project to the world — a fighting force that is so disciplined that it cannot be bought and would not be sold, or a fighting force where anything goes? Are they honest with themselves on what they have become, and are they pleased with the roles they are playing and how they are playing those roles? The Nigerian military needs a lot of introspection. Yes, they are not isolated from the rest of the society, a society that is sadly on a continuous decline in principles and character. That is true, for the legislature, executive and the judiciary are singly or sometimes collectively locked in unremitting moral decline, on such a scale that many have started to fear that the country might be headed for implosion.

Indeed, the Northeast insurgency is a product of that precipitous decline in leadership ethics and governance, a decline that has virtually reduced Nigeria to a footnote on the continent and is priming it for anarchy. Domestic policy, whether social or economic, has become eclectic and chaotic. The political system is yearning for a makeover. And foreign policy has all but collapsed, despite occasional fits and starts. Education is in tatters, compounded by a dismal focus on the wrong issues such as what payroll structure to adopt; and the healthcare sector, where professionals appeared to have given up on everything, is gasping for breath. On all fronts, the situation is dire. Nigerians would have loved that in the midst of the chaos, shame and decline, the Nigerian military would be an oasis of professionalism and exemplary conduct. But military authorities obviously see things differently, and can’t seem to be persuaded to inspire a revolution among their ranks to create the most disciplined and effective fighting force in Africa.

If it is any consolation to Prof Zulum, he must be told that his outburst is neither misplaced nor disproportionate. Unlike the army, and as an elected governor, he is bound to respond positively to the sufferings of those who put him in office. That response might seem excessive on January 6 when he railed at what travellers regarded as irrational operations at the checkpoints, but it was in fact well received by the people, and it probably saved the day. His predecessor, Kassim Shettima, courageously took on the Goodluck Jonathan government when the military floundered in their counterinsurgency operations in the Northeast, and he was reviled for his stand by the then government and the army which seemed to show preference for emergency rule and had even inspired a body of laws to rope in critics as abettors of terrorism. Prof Zulum has made his point, and has in response to the army’s unfortunate insinuations, reiterated Borno State government’s support for military operations in the region. He must not allow the army’s cavil to discourage him from taking them on when they exceed their bounds. Flowing from the exchange between him and soldiers, he will now likely opt for subtle, if not covert, remonstrances against checkpoint or any other kind of military indiscipline.

Yes, there is a limit to how openly the Borno governor should criticise the military when soldiers do wrong; but he must never give the impression that they could browbeat civil authorities without consequence despite decades of projecting false superiority. If a governor speaking up, or Amnesty International rebuking the military, discourages them from discharging their duty of defending the country, then they are more poorly led and trained than the public first imagined. As a matter of fact, the laxity and sometimes cruelty at checkpoints may not so much as reflect the purity and quality of their training manual as they reflect poor supervision, service discipline and military personnel’s self-esteem.