Governors and the Politics of Succession by Reuben Abati
The recent Governorship elections in Edo
and Ondo states threw up a number of issues about the politics of
succession in Nigeria. In Edo state, you would think it was the then
incumbent Governor Adams Oshiomhole seeking
re-election. He campaigned more than the candidate. He danced, waved the
broom, his party’s symbol, far more enthusiastically than the man who
wanted the office. He even did more to put down the opposition and any
likely threat to Godwin Obaseki’s ambition. His pretty wife was always
in tow during the campaigns, and did she dance? Oh yes, she did too.
Godwin Obaseki’s emergence as the candidate of the All Progressives Congress (APC)
in that election caused much disaffection within the party. He was said
to be Oshiomhole’s anointed candidate with the allegation that
everything was being done to ensure his victory at the polls. Oshiomhole
had his way. Obaseki is now Governor of Edo State.
The incumbent Governor in Ondo State
also did as much if not more to manage the politics of succession in the
just concluded Governorship election in that state. He anointed the
candidate of his party, followed him everywhere, and “fought” for him,
even in the courts and on the streets of Akure. The election was more
about Dr. Olusegun Mimiko and what he wanted. The situation was not helped by the fact that Mimiko’s choice, Eyitayo Jegede,
SAN hails from the same Senatorial district with him, but by far the
biggest problem was the division within the PDP, which produced two
candidates on the same platform for the same election, with the courts
having to decide mid-way and at the late hour, with a superior court
overruling the lower court. This confusion created a scenario whereby Jimoh Ibrahim emerged for a while as the party’s candidate, only to be dismissed through a court order two days to the election.
This did not bother the
businessman-lawyer-politician, though. Giving the impression that he was
not so desperate to be Governor, he declared that his mission was to
make it impossible for Mimiko to achieve his goal of installing an
anointed successor. On the eve of the election, he urged his supporters
and the people of the state to vote for the candidate of the APC. Under
normal circumstances this would be considered an anti-party activity but
the PDP is right now in such a confused state as a political party –
its ranks are filled with disloyal, one-leg-in-one-leg-out members. For
this reason, in Ondo state, the PDP defeated itself from within even
before the election. Mimiko can also be held responsible for his chosen
candidate’s defeat. He overplayed his hands in the febrile politics of
succession in the state.
There is perhaps nothing new about
incumbents, at state, local and national levels, showing interest in who
succeeds them. Being politicians, they could plead that they are duty
bound to support their party’s candidate, but where the problem lies is
the desperation that attends the choice of such candidates, beginning
with the party primary. In the United States, which is an example that
can be readily cited, President Barack Obama openly supported the candidacy of the Democratic Party standard bearer, Hillary Clinton, but he did so only after she had won the nomination. If Bernie Sanders
had been the party’s choice, he would still have received President
Obama’s support out of loyalty to the party. In other words, it would be
difficult to speak of an incumbent American President or Governor
anointing a successor and imposing that successor on the party and the
electorate.
This unacceptable abbreviation of
democratic choice and of democracy itself occurs routinely in Nigeria.
Once upon a time in this country, an incumbent President boasted that he
did not know who his successor would be, which was fine, but what was
not fine was his simultaneous declaration that he was very certain about
those who would not be allowed to succeed him. The same President
eventually chose his own successor. In Ekiti state, following the
election in Ondo state, Governor Ayo Fayose has been
quoted saying what has happened to Mimiko cannot happen to him in 2018:
he is so sure he would determine his own succession fortunes. And if he
could be so confident, where does that leave the democratic process?
Truth is: the average Nigerian politician’s faith in democracy is
dishonest. He believes the people can be bought. The people themselves
are very good at complaining but they seem more committed to
election-day monetary inducement than their own rights. Whatever gains
may have been recorded in terms of electoral integrity and civic power
is sadly being eroded by poverty.
When incumbent executive political
office holders insist on anointing their own successors in Nigeria,
they can hide under three justifications. The first is that they have a
legacy to protect, and that they have an idea who the right person is to
protect that legacy. But this is absolutely wrong. It is not the duty
of the incumbent to protect his or her own legacy, except through
literature. If the legacy is strong enough, it should endure within the
system. The end-and-start-again profile of Nigeria’s succession politics
owes in part to the weakness of institutions. Our civil bureaucracy is
one of the worst in the world. It is driven not by memory or best
practices but eye service. Legacies also do not seem to endure because
of the endurance of the politics of hate. When a new Governor assumes
office, his first priority is to make his predecessor look bad. That is
standard Nigerian practice. But the incumbent trying to prevent this
possibility by anointing a successor has not helped either. In Lagos,
Anambra, Cross River, Akwa Ibom Adamawa, Zamfara and Kano, we have seen
how anointed successors eventually turned against their Godfathers. The
best answer to the legacy issue is for every incumbent to perform so
well while in office that certain things would be so obvious that they
cannot be erased.
The second justification is that as the
leader of the ruling party in the state, or in the country, the
incumbent must protect his political relevance by having a say over what
happens when he leaves office. The interpretation is that the Nigerian
politician is very egoistic. Give him Executive powers and he begins to
appropriate the kind of divine powers with which kings used to oppress
the people. He is surrounded by sycophants who disorient him daily, with
long lists of enemies from whom he needs to protect himself, in and out
of office. He gets lured into a trap, he is overtaken by paranoia, and
he makes mistakes thinking he can exercise proprietorial rights over the
democratic process. Many have been disappointed. There is no point
mentioning names from 1999 to date.
The third justification is that
everything must be done to prevent the opposition from seizing power.
Opposition politics in Nigeria is hoisted on a platform of enmity,
including the fear of probes, even if no former Governor or President
has been successfully probed or jailed by any successor since 1999. When
our politicians are in the same party, they relate as friends, when
they are in opposite parties, they relate as enemies, particularly if
the parties involved are influential and capable of winning. Most of the
people in the APC today who are branding the PDP as evil made their
name as politicians inside the PDP. Jumping from one party to the other
and switching colour and emotions like the chameleon means absolutely
nothing to the Nigerian politician; their morality is majorly that of a
professional prostitute. It is never about what the people want. And
so, preventing the opposition is an empty excuse because the same
Godfather who is imposing an anointed candidate today could join another
party tomorrow, and the
anointed could also head in another direction or adopt another
Godfather. This is a perfect illustration of how devoid of character and
principles Nigerian politics is.
What is left then? What is left is the
more compelling argument that the reason Nigerian political incumbents
are so desperate to anoint successors is because they are afraid of
their own shadows. They want to cover their misdeeds, so they struggle
to rule by proxy. They want to remain relevant, and continue to have
access to state resources, patronage and privileges. They want to play
God. They have secrets they want to hide. The politics of succession in
Nigerian politics thus constructed has never worked. Its architects and
promoters have been disappointed in many cases more than once. The
landscape is littered with tales of treachery. Some Godfathers were so
badly treated by their anointed successors they could no longer visit
their states for four years at least. There are some ex-Governors who
thought they got the best man to succeed them whose only reward has been
abuse and neglect.
The lesson not learnt is that being a
Godfather has at most, short-term benefits. Incumbents often underrate
one thing: that the successor will also acquire his own ego. New
influencers are bound to surround the new incumbent and they will advise
him to assert his independence and not to be anybody’s “boy-boy”. Even
when the anointed successor swears to an oath, as often happens, it
doesn’t take long before one of these Pastors goes to him, offers to
cancel the oath and anoint him as the new Spiritual Leader of the state!
Have you ever heard of any politician who died because he swore to an
oath with a Godfather?
The way we recruit Governors these days
is bad. The lesson for every incumbent is to get things right. Nigerian
democracy is still at the level of the visual and the personal. It is
trapped at the level of needs. The people appreciate and remember what
they see and what touches them directly. That is why on election day, or
the night before, when they are given the “Naira sandwich”, their
political mind immediately focuses on how at that particular moment a
particular party or candidate has met their needs. The challenge of
Nigerian democracy remains how to free the people from this base level,
and confront them with more significant and indelible achievements that
they can see, feel and touch, and which the politics of succession or
hate can neither destroy nor traduce. If anyone understood this very
well, Awolowo did, Ahmadu Bello did, Michael Opara did, Sam Mbakwe did, Obasanjo did, Jakande did, Onabanjo did, Ajasin did…we’d talk about more contemporary examples some other day.
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