As Nigeria marks its 65th year of independence today, the nation’s political journey invites a quiet introspection. Beneath today’s celebrations lies a system that shuns and treats political conflict as a threat rather than the lifeblood of genuine democracy. And despite being conflict averse, Nigerian politics in the six and a half decades, has often resembled a battlefield where opposition signals enmity.
Consider a key basis upon which the Murtala/Obasanjo military regime decided to abandon the British parliamentary model for an American presidential system. They sincerely wanted to engineer unity through institutional design. General Olusegun Obasanjo, then second-in-command to General Murtala Mohammed, captured the thinking of politicians: “In most Nigerian languages, the word for opposition is the same word for ‘enemy’. And what do you do with an enemy? You crush him; you do not spare anything.” This explains the approach to politics for most Nigerian politicians: “crush-or-be-crushed”.
The military viewed parliamentary debates as breeding grounds for violence. The solution seemed easy: eliminate opposition politics to eliminate political violence and forge unity by minimising confrontation. What they saw as a solution overlooked the simple truth that true unity emerges from shared experiences, not decrees; they could not legislate harmony any more than one can force roots into unwilling soil.
The logic revealed a profound misunderstanding of democracy itself; they expected a pluralistic, multi-ethnic society to function without opposition voices. They mistook external uniformity for genuine unity. What they created was not harmony but a system that drove conflict underground, where it festered and waited for opportunity to erupt in more destructive forms time and again. Aversion to conflict was deeply woven into the fabric of post-colonial governance.
The 1914 amalgamation by British colonial administrators created a geographical entity, not a unified nation. Ethnic nationalities were bundled together for administrative convenience, their diverse loyalties ignored in favour of resource extraction. Independence in 1960 inherited this corporatist mindset, much like a boardroom takeover, where the state became a prize for the victorious.
Politicians, echoing colonial overseers, treat public office as personal enterprise. Elections become zero-sum games of winner-takes-all. This mentality creates what might be called vagrant authority – power without purpose, office without vision. Leaders oscillate between inherited military authoritarianism and civilian chaos because they lack authentic governance models rooted in the Nigerian realities. They cannot imagine politics as anything other than warfare between enemies.
Such dynamics silence voices and shrink democratic space. And when opposition is equated with treason, losers retreat into ethnic strongholds, nursing grudges that fuel cycles of unrest and violence. As crackdowns are visited on protesters, dialogue gives way to distrust.
The 1993 annulment of Moshood Abiola’s presidential victory exemplifies this: a moment of potential national consensus shattered by military fiat, deepening divides that persist today. Silencing dissent does not build resilience; it erodes the very foundations of collective progress.
History shows that political antagonism diminishes us, but it needs not define us. Perpetual bitterness, evident in the ethnic tensions that boiled over during the 1967-1970 civil war, continues to shadow modern politics. From separatist agitations to the Niger Delta militancy over resource control, to northern banditry and grievances about neglect, these conflicts reveal unaddressed wounds. But enmity is not inevitable, and politics need not be perpetual war.
Chantal Mouffe’s concept of agonistic pluralism offers a compelling alternative framework. She reframes political struggle as a contest between adversaries, not enemies. In her view, democracy thrives when passions are channelled into managed disagreement, preventing apathy or explosive violence. The goal of democratic politics should be transforming enemies into adversaries, treating opponents with respect rather than seeking their destruction.
Imagine politics as a football match, between Enyimba International FC, unarguably Nigeria’s most successful club, and Kano Pillars FC which also commands significant support. Supporters cheer fiercely for their side, yet the game ends with handshakes, not bloodshed. Victory brings joy, defeat prompts reflection, but the sport endures because rules ensure fairness.
Nigerian politics could adopt similar principles. Opposition parties would compete vigorously, not a death match. Media outlets would provide balanced platforms for different viewpoints rather than serving as partisan weapons. Electoral bodies would referee contests impartially. Winners would govern inclusively while losers would critique constructively.
For a multi-ethnic, multi-religious nation like Nigeria, agonism feels tailor-made. Mouffe points out that in diverse societies, consensus is often illusory; instead, we need space for dissensus while maintaining respect. Through vigorous debate and competition, societies test ideas, expose weaknesses, and discover better solutions.
Adapting agonism means practical steps. Constitutional reforms could embed proportional representation, ensuring minority voices influence outcomes, much like Switzerland’s federal cantons balance linguistic divides. Education curricula might emphasise civic dialogue, teaching young Nigerians to view debate as strength, not weakness. And leadership selection could prioritise those who bridge divides, as Ellen Johnson Sirleaf did in Liberia by including former rivals in her cabinet.
The root of our disunity lies not in diversity itself, but in systems that force conformity over accommodation. By embracing conflict as integral to politics, we open doors to authentic unity, one grown organically, not imposed. Antagonism can evolve into agonism, turning perpetual war into productive rivalry.
After sixty-five years of trying to engineer conflict-free politics, perhaps it is time to learn how to manage conflict productively. This Independence Day, let us commit to a politics that uplifts, where winning serves the people, not just the victors.
