By John Campbell and Robert I Nigeria is in big trouble. If a state’s first obligation to those it governs is to provide for their s...
By John Campbell and
Robert I
Nigeria is in big trouble. If a state’s first obligation to
those it governs is to provide for their security and maintain a monopoly on
the use of violence, then Nigeria has failed, even if some other aspects of the
state still function. Criminals, separatists, and Islamist insurgents
increasingly threaten the government’s grip on power, as do rampant corruption,
economic malaise, and rising poverty.
Most failed states in Africa—such the Central African
Republic, Somalia, and South Sudan—are small or marginal; Nigeria, by contrast,
boasts a growing population of 214 million. It is expected to become the
world’s third-largest country by population by 2050. And prior to the COVID-19
pandemic, it had Africa’s largest economy or its second-largest after South
Africa (depending on how one measures). That is why state failure in Nigeria is
having profound consequences for the entire region—and beyond. It bodes
especially ill for the stability and well-being of weak states in Nigeria’s
vicinity, as evidenced by the spread of jihadi and criminal groups to Burkina
Faso, Cameroon, Chad, Ivory Coast, Mali, and Niger.
Nigeria’s collapse can be reversed, however. Increasingly,
prominent Nigerian opinion-makers are calling for an alternative to the current
administration—whether through a national convention to rebuild the state from
scratch, the breakup of Nigeria into smaller countries, or a domestic military
takeover of the kind Nigeria has experienced repeatedly since independence in
1960. Many other Nigerians decry the government’s inability to keep citizens safe
but support its calls for external assistance in the form of economic and
military aid.
Nigeria’s international partners, especially the United
States, must acknowledge that Nigeria is now a failed state. In recognition of
that fact, they should deepen their engagement with the country and seek to
hold the current administration accountable for its failures while also working
with it to provide security and right the economy. In addition, they should
engage and support Nigerian civil society as it forges what must ultimately be
a Nigerian-led reconstruction effort.
Success is by no means guaranteed. But the alternatives,
including a descent into widespread warlordism, intensified ethnic and
religious strife, and the establishment of jihadi safe havens, are contrary to
Africa’s interests and those of the United States. As Nigeria’s security goes,
so goes Africa’s.
FAILURE ON ALL FRONTS
Nigeria still retains some attributes of a viable state,
especially with respect to international affairs. It maintains diplomatic
missions around the world, and its national security services still function in
some places and at some times, even though their leadership is regarded as
corrupt. At home, the country’s legislative body, the National Assembly, still
meets, and the judiciary still operates, although without gaining the
confidence of many Nigerians.
But the Nigerian state has long failed to provide its
citizens with social services, and Nigerian politics is largely an elite sport
disassociated from governance. The government does not or cannot tax the real
wealth of the country, remains too dependent on revenue from oil and gas, and
lurches from one fiscal crisis to another. Corruption is structural, too,
casting nearly everyone as both perpetrator and victim.
Under the administration of President Muhammadu Buhari,
multiple overlapping security crises have transformed Nigeria from a weak state
into a failed one. Buhari’s government has struggled to quell various jihadi
insurgencies, including the one waged by the militant group Boko Haram. The
government has also failed to tamp down half a dozen or so other civil
conflicts and clashes over land and water that have taken on ethnic or
religious dimensions. Separatism is rising again in Yorubaland and in the areas
that once made up Biafra, a region that fought a failed war of secession
against Nigeria’s government between 1967 and 1970. Kidnapping is rampant
throughout the country, as is piracy in the Gulf of Guinea.
In many areas, the federal government has effectively ceded
control to militants and criminals.
Buhari’s government has proved woefully unprepared for these
challenges. It has had trouble sustaining military operations far beyond Abuja,
the capital city, and a few other areas where its authority is not directly
challenged by criminal gangs, jihadis, or separatists. In shootouts with
criminals and Islamists, the police and the security services are often
outgunned.
Regional quasi-police forces and militias—sometimes
connected to state governments but rarely officially sanctioned—exercise de
facto authority in some areas. But in many others, the federal government has
effectively ceded control to militants and criminals. Law and order have broken
down, and schools have had to close in many rural areas. The COVID-19 pandemic
and the attendant economic crisis—compounded in Nigeria by the decline in international
oil prices—has only accelerated the country’s descent into chaos, plunging
millions into poverty and fueling the surge in lawlessness.
A CHORUS OF DISSENT
Buhari’s government has called for international assistance
to stem the tide of insecurity. At an April meeting with U.S. Secretary of
State Antony Blinken, Buhari reportedly requested that the headquarters of the
U.S. Africa Command be moved from Germany to Nigeria so that it would be closer
to the fight against jihadi groups in the country’s north. But while the
Nigerian president might like the United States to involve itself more deeply
in the campaign against Boko Haram, there is little indication that he is
willing to address the deeper issues of governance, corruption, and economic mismanagement
that have accelerated Nigeria’s decline.
A growing number of prominent Nigerians argue that righting
the ship of state is beyond the ability of Buhari’s administration. Public
intellectuals, including the Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, for instance, have
called for a sovereign national convention to be convened to rebuild the state
from the ground up, replacing Nigeria’s mixed state and federal system with a
genuine federal democracy. More recently, the country’s conference of Roman
Catholic bishops called on the president to convene a council of notables to
recommend new ways to devolve power. Aare Afe Babalola, a wealthy traditional
ruler, is sponsoring “a Summit of Hope,” now backed by the Nigerian Bar
Association, to “prevent the country from disintegrating and drifting into
anarchy.” And the Ooni of Ife, one of the country’s most senior traditional
rulers and the co-chair of the National Tradition Council of Nigeria, has
endorsed a similar proposal and is seeking the support of fellow traditional
rulers.
A growing number of prominent Nigerians argue that righting
the ship of state is beyond the ability of Buhari’s administration.
Still other Nigerian activists and intellectuals have seized
on the deteriorating security situation to advocate reversing the “mistake of
1914,” when the British combined the homelands of some 350 distinct ethnic
groups into a single artificial state. They aim to break up Nigeria into
multiple independent states, each likely dominated by a specific ethnic group.
Although such proposals may sound far-fetched, they are gaining steam, helping
breathe new life into separatist movements in the old region of Biafra, in
particular.
And then there are those, such as the noted Nigerian lawyer
and commentator Robert Clarke, who have called for a return to military rule.
In the past, the army was viewed by most Nigerians—and by itself—as the
ultimate guarantor of the country’s existence. It has intervened seven times
over the last 60 years, overthrowing elected and nonelected governments alike
whenever the generals have judged the political process to have broken down (or
to have threatened their interests). Each time, the military brass have
justified their intervention as called for by the people, and crowds of
Nigerians have frequently celebrated the arrival of military government and the
departure of corrupt politicians. That is the well of memory from which those
looking to the military to break the current stalemate are drawing.
Buhari’s administration has unsurprisingly rejected calls
for a military intervention out of hand, claiming that politicians, traditional
rulers, and religious leaders are trying to foment a coup. However, it is by no
means clear that the upper reaches of the military—or even the junior officer
corps—has the stomach to assume day-to-day governing responsibilities. For the
time being, at least, it seems that Nigerians will have to endure escalating
violence without much hope of relief from their national or state governments.
MUDDLING THROUGH?
Nigeria is often celebrated for its ability to “muddle
through” emergencies, as it did during the 1967–70 civil war, the generation of
military rule from 1975 to 1999, and the ups and downs of international oil
prices and recurrent fiscal crises. Nigeria may still manage to muddle through
the current crisis, but that seems increasingly unlikely given the level of
insecurity and the potential for general elections in 2023 to spark still more
discord and violence.
Nigeria’s international partners can help avert that
outcome—and eventually, help reverse the process of state failure. As long as
Buhari is in office, the United States should continue to publicly denounce his
administration’s human rights abuses and call out political leaders seeking to
feather their own nests. It should also cancel the visas of Nigerian officials
and business people at the first whiff of criminality or human rights offenses.
Washington should meet Nigeria’s requests for military
assistance with caution, however. Military and police aid should be contingent
on real, measurable reform of those services, including a human rights
component. But there is much the United States and other friends of Nigeria can
do to help stabilize the country’s economy, which has been buffeted by the fall
in international energy prices. They should urge international financial
institutions to support Nigeria’s liberalization of its currency exchange rates
and to help strengthen the independence of its central bank. Washington might
also consider supporting Nigeria’s efforts to fight corruption.
At the same time, the United States should support the push
for a more ambitious Nigerian-led state reconstruction effort—whatever form
that might take. Through exchanges, conferences, technical advice, and other
tools of “soft diplomacy,” the United States should aid civil society and
Nigerian nongovernmental organizations in their efforts to strengthen the
country’s democracy. The U.S. Agency for International Development should pay
special attention to bolstering Nigeria’s underlying democratic ethos, in
particular by supporting enhanced training for young political leaders and
civil society activists.
Yet time is running out for Nigeria. The country could soon
be in even worse shape. There are Islamist insurgents at the gates, along with
other serious threats to internal peace and security. Nigerians are resilient,
but their best efforts to reverse the collapse of the Nigerian state require
immediate support.
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