History is a tale never fully told — from all sides, by all who witnessed it. In the long run, power determines which narratives endure and which fade away. Thirty years ago, the Haitian intellectual Michel-Rolph Trouillot wrote “Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History,” presenting a sophisticated analysis of how power dynamics fundamentally shape historical narratives through processes of selective silencing. Six weeks ago, former Nigerian Military President General Ibrahim Babangida presented his memoirs, “A Journey in Service”, at a lavish ceremony in Abuja. In this piece, we use Trouillot’s compelling template and groundbreaking framework to carefully analyse Babangida’s offering — which represents a sophisticated exercise in historical production shaped by power —hidden inside what might be considered a wooden Trojan horse of self-justification and selective memory.
Babangida: History, Power, and the Erasure of National Memory
The February launch of Babangida’s autobiography at Abuja’s Transcorp Hilton Hotel represented more than a literary event. The lavish book launch, which represented a performance of power, also functioned as a performance of enduring influence. It was a gathering of the upper echelon of Nigeria’s political elite — including President Bola Tinubu, former presidents, and business magnates — who collectively pledged approximately ₦16 billion for Babangida’s legacy monument. This spectacle demonstrates Trouillot’s observation that power operates not merely in content but in how historical narratives become legitimised through public commemoration.
Trouillot identifies specific moments when silences enter historical production — in the creation of sources, archives, narratives, and commemoration. Babangida’s memoir exemplifies how selective memory operates as a mechanism of historical silencing, through which he strategically controls which aspects of his rule receive attention and which remain obscured and silenced.
At the launch, Babangida reportedly claimed that, “the decision was not his alone but was forced upon him by elements within the military, particularly the late General Sani Abacha”. This narrative creates what Trouillot would identify as a manufactured silence — a strategic gap between “what happened” and “what is said to have happened.”
This reframing demonstrates the precise operation of power that Trouillot identified: “The ultimate mark of power may be its invisibility; the ultimate challenge, the exposition of its roots.” Babangida attempts to make his exercise of power invisible by portraying himself as constrained by forces beyond his control, even though he was Nigeria’s supreme military authority at the time.
Trouillot’s insight that historical participants serve as both actors and narrators finds stark expression in Babangida’s memoir. As a maximum military ruler, Babangida actively shaped Nigeria’s history through one consequential decision after another, including his responses to coup attempts. Now, as the author of his autobiography, he narrates these same events with the benefit of hindsight and self-interest.
The autobiography thus demonstrates Trouillot’s observation that history emerges from the tension between socio-historical processes and the narratives constructed about them. Critical responses to “A Journey in Service” from commentators, journalists, and academics adequately provide that tension, and they represent what Trouillot would recognise as counter-narratives that challenge dominant historical accounts.
However, those who experienced the same events of history, who choose to counter him, must work from positions of significant disadvantage. This explains why the book has generated such passionate responses. At stake is not merely the reputation of one man but Nigeria’s collective understanding of its own past and the accountability of those who shaped it.
The controversy surrounding the memoir highlights what Trouillot described as the “fruit of power” — the way historical narratives shape social and political realities. The timing of the memoir’s publication — 32 years after the June 12 annulment — also allows Babangida to shape his legacy at a moment when many direct witnesses to his rule have died or their memories have faded, illustrating how the passage of time itself can become a tool for historical revision.
Trouillot’s analytical framework carries important implications for contemporary African leadership. Those who occupy positions of power must recognise their dual responsibility as both actors in and witnesses to history. When leaders manipulate historical narratives to evade accountability, they deprive future generations of authentic understanding and perpetuate cycles of misgovernance.
The most valuable legacy any leader can offer is not self-justification but truthful accounting, even when uncomfortable. As custodians of national memory, leaders who document their tenures must resist the temptation to craft narratives that primarily serve personal vindication rather than historical integrity.
For Nigeria’s emerging democracy, confronting rather than evading difficult historical truths, offers the surest path to institutional maturity. The reception of Babangida’s memoir demonstrates that many Nigerians remain engaged in the struggle against historical silencing — a testament to Trouillot’s enduring insight that while power’s ultimate mark may be its invisibility, society’s ultimate challenge lies in exposing its roots and operations for the benefit of generations to come.
