File: Nigeria Military troops
Facing severe economic challenges and rising social discontent, the last thing Nigeria needs is the resurgence of military rule.
On October 4, the military high command issued a terse statement announcing the detention of 16 officers over a vague “security breach”. The authorities were quick to dismiss any insinuations of a coup plot, insisting the matter was under investigation and limited to routine disciplinary actions.
However, two online newspapers, Sahara Reporters and Premium Times, painted a far more alarming picture.
These officers—including a brigadier-general—were reportedly detained in connection with an alleged coup attempt against President Bola Tinubu’s government.
Even more shocking, the plot reportedly involved links to a former state governor, raising troubling questions about political machinations intertwined with military ambition.
Whether this incident signals a botched coup attempt or simply an overblown security slip, one truth remains clear: Nigeria must reject any notion of military takeover with unwavering resolve.
Democracy, flawed as it may be, is infinitely preferable to the iron-fisted rule of usurper-generals.
Yes, inflation ravages household budgets, poverty grips millions, and democratic freedoms are under threat through arbitrary arrests and suppressed protests—yet these challenges demand civilian solutions: elections, reforms, and accountability.
The worst civilian democracy is far better than the best military dictatorship. History teaches this lesson to Nigerians, yet some remain deaf to its warnings.
Military rule has been a curse on Nigeria’s soul and economy, a relentless cycle of betrayal and plunder setting the country back generations. From 1966 to 1999, Nigeria endured at least six major coups and counter-coups, each more destructive than the last.
The first, on January 15, 1966, saw the brutal assassination of Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa, Northern Region Premier Ahmadu Bello, Western Region Premier Ladoke Akintola and other key civilian and military leaders, in a bloody putsch led by Kaduna Nzeogwu, a major.
This coup took on ethnic hues, pitting Igbo officers against Northern and Western region elites.
Six months later, in July 1966, a northern-led counter-coup installed Yakubu Gowon, exacerbating tribal tensions that exploded into the devastating Biafran Civil War (1967–1970).
That conflict claimed over two million lives through combat, starvation, and disease. Nigeria cannot afford to revisit such horrors, as the scars still fester.
The parade of coups continued. In 1975, Gowon was ousted while attending an Organisation of African Unity summit in Kampala, Uganda, and replaced by Murtala Mohammed. Mohammed’s brief tenure ended tragically in 1976 when he was assassinated in a failed coup attempt by Bukar Suka Dimka (a lieutenant-colonel).
Olusegun Obasanjo then assumed power, eventually handing over to civilian President Shehu Shagari in October 1979, the first flicker of democracy in over a decade. But stability proved fragile.
On December 31, 1983, Muhammadu Buhari (a major-general) toppled Shagari, decrying his regime as inept and corrupt.
Buhari’s authoritarian rule, marked by draconian decrees, lasted until August 1985, when Ibrahim Babangida staged a “palace coup,” accusing Buhari of rigidity and incompetence.
Babangida’s era devolved into deceit and annulled elections deemed the worst assault on Nigerians’ collective rights, culminating in him reluctantly stepping aside in 1993, only for Sani Abacha to seize power in a November coup. Abacha’s brutal dictatorship, rife with human rights abuses and looting, ended with his mysterious death in 1998.
During his reign of terror, Abacha executed Ken Saro-Wiwa, a member of the ‘Ogoni Nine’ in 1995, turning Nigeria into a pariah nation.
Abdulsalami Abubakar briefly steered the transition, handing power to elected President Obasanjo in 1999.
Throughout this tumult, each junta accused its predecessor of corruption, ineptitude and failure to uplift living standards, only to worsen the situation.
Freedoms were summarily curtailed. The media was under siege as media houses were closed. Many journalists, including Bagauda Kaltho of TheNews, disappeared without a trace.
Military rule in Nigeria was never about national interest; it was a selfish enterprise by khaki-clad opportunists to capture power and state resources while masquerading as saviours.
Notably, Abacha was notorious for incarcerating and murdering citizens at will to remain in power, while he stole over $5 billion, which he siphoned off abroad.
The economic toll was catastrophic. Military regimes neglected agriculture—the backbone of Nigeria’s economy—in favour of oil dependency. Petrodollars fuelled corruption, ballooning foreign debt to unsustainable levels, while critical infrastructure was not built.
By the 1990s, the dividends of such folly materialised as poverty soared, inflation skyrocketed, crime rampaged, infrastructure crumbled, education stagnated, and healthcare collapsed.
Military interventions did not solve Nigeria’s problems; they multiplied them, turning a resource-rich country into a beggar state.
Even as Nigerian politicians continue to fail the people they govern, this is no excuse for the military to contemplate a coup.
Across Africa, politicians undermine democracy by stifling freedoms and punishing dissent, while economic woes persist. Some perpetuate themselves in power through dubious means. Nigeria is no exception, with the current administration weaponising laws like the Cybersecurity Act against journalists and critics.
The government lives in denial about the daily hardships inflicted by its economic policies and its failure to provide adequate counteracting safety nets.
Despite boasting macroeconomic gains, 139 million Nigerians now live in poverty. Criticism is cast as mere opposition politics or disloyalty. Yet none of these failures justify removing the government by force.
Social change is a collective and continuous effort; democracy provides a viable, inclusive platform for it.
The United States remains a resilient democracy because it has taken 250 years of social engineering to build an environment fostering individual freedoms, commerce, innovation, and merit-based prosperity that magnetises people worldwide.
Since independence in 1947, India, the world’s largest democracy, has endured seismic challenges, including the assassination of revered leaders, with its parliament notorious for rancour and occasional violence. Yet its powerful military has never intervened to “correct” political affairs.
Democracy thrives because it is respected. Sixty-five years after independence, Nigeria cannot afford to descend into military rule again—a stain on parts of Africa, including Guinea, Burkina Faso, Niger Republic, and most recently Madagascar— being a leading voice against coups in the region.
The military’s role is to safeguard territorial integrity and protect citizens. Nigeria’s military should be fully engaged in containing the widespread Islamic insurgency in the North and securing national assets, not burdening itself with governance, at which its record remains woeful.
Unfortunately, African leaders also undermine democracy by violating their constitutions and fomenting social unrest, providing openings for military coups.
Even in Nigeria, following a poor precedent by former Obasanjo, Tinubu suspended an elected state governor for six months and installed a retired military officer in his place. He has also withheld local government funds from Osun State, the very same action he fought against in court as Lagos governor. These are undemocratic actions.
Good governance is critical to ending coups and rumours of coups. Nigeria needs to strengthen democratic institutions and ensure free and fair elections so that bad leadership can be voted out through the ballot box, not by bullets.
The constitutional reforms being undertaken by the National Assembly should aim for a more equitable balance of power among the three branches of government and accountable stewardship.
Democracy exists in name only where the executive has hijacked legislative powers and the judiciary is beholden to presidents and governors.
De-emphasising the concentration of power at the centre is an enduring disincentive for coup-making since states will have sufficient fiscal autonomy. Nigeria must embrace true federalism.
Crucially, the military authorities need to come clean on this latest episode to avert the continuous and inevitable spread of rumour and uncertainty.
The implicated officers must face public trial, and the full weight of the law must demonstrate that Nigeria has zero tolerance for coups.
The Punch
