Since
the return to civil rule in 1999, ethnic and religious conflicts across the
Nigerian federation have claimed an estimated fifty thousand lives. These
conflicts have not just been inter-ethnic or inter-religious; they have also
been intra-ethnic and intra-religious. They include clashes between the Ife and
the Modakeke in Osun State, the Aguleri and Umuleri in Anambra and the Ezza and
Ezillo in Ebonyi State. Sectarian clashes between Christian and Muslim
partisans dominate the headlines because they cohere with a popular mythical
narrative of Nigeria as a nation embroiled in a clash of civilizations. Less
reported is the intra-sectarian animosity that has seen Sunnis and Shiites
clash in Zaria and Sokoto, or the war of attrition waged by Boko Haram and
allied extremist sects on other Muslims who oppose them.
The escalation of conflict suggests a
correlation between democratization and violence. After the long decades of
military dictatorship, democracy was supposed to inaugurate an era of peace and
prosperity. Why has it led to so much strife? A major reason is the nature of
democracy itself. As Claude Ake once wrote, “The military is a taut chain of
command; democracy is a benign anarchy of diversity. Democracy presupposes
human sociability; the military presupposes its total absence, the inhuman
extremity of killing the opposition. The military demands submission, democracy
enjoins participation; one is a toll of violence, the other, a means of consensus
building for peaceful co-existence.” Democracy creates greater spaces for
self-definition and self-understanding by various groups and interests.
Under military dictatorships,
political identities are necessarily constrained by the code of totalitarian
uniformity that permits only two actors – the state and the citizenry. Democracy
opened the flood gates of expression and activism. Repressed identities and
resentments surged to the surface. For example, during the military era, the
notion of Arewa – northern Nigeria as a political monolith – was an article of
faith in the media. One of the most important political developments since 1999
has been the fraying of northern identity. The ecumenical regionalism of Ahmadu
Bello, and the dubious provincial cronyism propagated by some northern elites
during military rule has collapsed into the chaos of self-determination and
cultural and political rediscovery.
Since 1999, the previously plain
canvas of northern homogeneity has fractured into sharp colours of resurgent
ethnic identities. New narratives that involve the Sayawa, the Adara, the Nupe,
the Berom and the Bajju have become prominent revealing the ethnically
heterogeneous and fairly fractious reality of the north. Democracy offers
opportunities for various flags of identity to be hoisted in the sun. This is
precisely what is happening. Democracy is conducive for diversity in a way that
totalitarianism cannot be. This is why Nigeria’s diversity has become troublingly
thematic in recent times. It is all part of the renegotiation of political
realities that is promoted by democracy.
However, the fundamental problem is
that in a multi-religious and multi-ethnic polity where democracy is still
primitively defined as a game of numbers rather than a contest of ideas, it is
bound to generate the tyranny of the majority. Most of the conflicts in Nigeria
revolve around the relational dynamics between ethnic and religious majorities
and minorities. This is compounded by a rentier economy in which numbers are
used to corner resources, economic advantages and social opportunities to the
detriment of minority groups. This accounts for the extant apartheid system in
which certain groups define themselves as indigenes and landlords and classify
other citizens as settlers and tenants. Most states entertain discriminatory
policies in employment practices and admission into public schools that make
nonsense of Nigerian citizenship.
In such circumstances, where an
illiberal democracy sustains restrictions on the civic status of citizens, the
tyranny of the majority is countered by the rage of the minority. Conflict is
inevitable. Where majorities can hijack the apparatus of the state and direct
its machinery of coercion against perceived opponents, minorities resort to
anti-state violence. The structural violence of majoritarian tyranny is
equalized by the actual physical violence of minoritarian terrorism. Militancy
and aggression, in this sense, constitute the eloquence of those rendered
voiceless by the system.
The biggest factor in the escalation
of conflicts since 1999 has been the inability or unwillingness of the federal
government to act as a neutral arbiter of contending provincial passions to
prevent them from erupting into interminable cycles of strife and vengeance.
This governmental function includes the protection of minorities from
victimization and the prosecution of sponsors and perpetrators of violence. The
simple truth about cycles of violence is that they are perpetuated when crimes
go unpunished. In a multi-ethnic and multi-religious polity, these derelictions
of duty by the federal government constitute an invitation to communities to
devise their own means of defence – which can only mean higher levels of
sectarian violence. In some of our theatres of conflict, we have already
witnessed ugly scenes of unpunished violence and retributive aggression. The
wanton slaying of innocent Muslims has been defended as “reprisals” for the
atrocities of Boko Haram and ostensibly “legitimized” by the negligence of the
state. But to accept that it is permissible to target people for the sins of
their supposed kin is an invitation to mutual genocide.
Therefore, a new national security
doctrine must have as its cornerstone the sanctity of citizenship. This means
protecting the rights of Nigerian citizens everywhere in the federation from
discrimination and violence. It also means recognizing ethno-religious violence
and political terrorism as the most potent threats to the union. During the
1970s and 1980s, armed robbery assumed epidemic proportions in Nigerian cities.
The federal government recognizing that it was dealing with a new security
threat, established special anti-robbery squads and tribunals to speedily and
decisively address the spate of violent crime. The proliferation of bomb-making
technologies and the sophistication of Boko Haram, allied terror groups, and
sundry militant gangs represent an escalation of violence. In addition to all
other measures, special anti-terrorism tribunals should be established to deal
speedily and thoroughly with these crimes against Nigerian humanity. Terrorism,
in this sense, should not just be limited to Boko Haram’s outrages but expanded
to include political violence and all crimes that are currently categorized as
ethno-religious violence. This would also cover hate crimes and hate speech,
particularly in religious, political and media rhetoric that encourage
prejudice and bigotry. This is the way to restore dwindling civic faith in the
state’s capacity to protect citizens’ lives and property.
The federal government must also recognize the adverse national security implications of the majoritarian hegemonies thrown up in a young democracy. It must commit to protect ethnic and religious minorities everywhere in the federation, not merely as “minorities” or endangered species but as citizens with equal rights. Polemicists who see chronic conflicts as an opportunity to dissolve the union are wrong. The issue is not our diversity. It is how to guard against the tyranny of the majority in a democracy. And there is no possible post-Nigerian configuration in which there would be no ethnic, religious or political minorities.
(All images sourced from Google Images)
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