Beyond Anambra: imperative of a new politics. Emmanuel Ojeifo

“In all, we hold our heads high – high because we did not lose the poll due to paucity of ideas or lack of structure; we lost to superior financial power… We, therefore, make no apologies for our decision to refrain from money politics and chart a new course for a clean, knowledge-based campaign driven by patriotism.”  – Osita Chidoka, UPP Anambra governorship candidate (November 19, 2017)

If I had published this piece before the Anambra governorship election which took place last Saturday, the title would have been slightly different. It would have read, ‘Chidoka and the new politics,’ and I would have started it this way: Osita Chidoka will probably not win the Anambra governorship election – I do not mean this maliciously – but he surely has started the conversation around a new kind of politics that is sorely needed in Nigeria today, and that is the politics of ideas. When in 2016 I envisioned starting a new book club in Abuja, for promoting the culture of reading and intelligent conversation on issues of leadership and public service amongst young people, he was one of the few young Nigerians that I turned to for guidance. Although the book club is currently in limbo, I began following Chidoka’s politics closely.

Judging by the Channels TV governorship debate poll and by popular social media opinion, Chidoka ranked higher than any of the top contenders for the job in terms of the clarity of ideas and political vision that he brought to the debate. But as we all well know, elections are not won on the altar of eloquence, much less on deceptive social media Gallup. However, it should become clear by now that having exhausted the best and the worst of our pre-independence generation in political leadership, it is time to make a deliberate transition to the next generation, the post-civil war kids. The post-civil war kids belong to a generation that has not seen a country that works, and it is not too clear how many of them want to make Nigeria work in their own time. Nonetheless, Chidoka appears to possess the requisite credentials for leading the pack of those who want to join in the train of this political transition.

Our second-generation politicians, who are currently ruling the country, once belonged to Nigeria’s ‘lucky generation’ (to borrow Achebe’s words). Mostly made up of people born before Nigeria’s independence, they were prime beneficiaries of the massive opportunities that immediate post-independence Nigeria provided, especially in the area of good education, which prepared them for leadership. Sadly, they have become Nigeria’s ‘wasted generation’ (to borrow Soyinka’s words). Not only did they squander all the opportunities that this country gave them, they have turned around to drive the country aground. These are the men who have been in power since the end of the civil war. They have held power, lost power, and lived to play again.

On the contrary, children born after Nigeria’s civil war make up the first generation of young people to have fewer opportunities than their parents. Many of these young people feel disillusioned and forgotten, and are often amazed at the complete dissonance of the older generation from their plights. Seventy percent of Nigeria’s population today is made up of young people under-40. This is the age fault-line for people in the most critical stage of life. This ‘demographic tsunami’ as the British journalist Michela Wrong calls it, can either become a blessing or a curse for Nigeria. The current agitations of young people all over the country for a politics that corresponds and responds to their needs is a crucial test indicator of the direction in which this demographic tsunami is turning. As the 2010 British Council commissioned document on ‘Nigeria: The Next Generation’ observed, “Youth, not oil, will be Nigeria’s most precious resource in the twenty-first century.”

In the advanced democracies of the West, young people are taking the political battlefield by storm. Emmanuel Macron, the world’s youngest political leader, became French president in 2017 at 39. Victor Orban became prime minister of Hungary in 1998 at age 35. He left office in 2002 but took over again in 2010. Mark Rutte became prime minister of The Netherlands in 2010 at the age of 43. In Belgium, Charles Michael became prime minister in 2014 at the age of 38, becoming the country’s youngest leader since 1840. Juri Ratas became prime minister of Estonia in 2016 at the age of 38. Volodymyr Groysman was appointed prime minister of Ukraine in 2016 at 38. In Greece, Alexis Tsipras was named prime minister in 2015 at age 40, the youngest Greek leader in 150 years. Prime minister Youssef Chahed of Turkey was 40 when he took office in 2016, the youngest since Tunisia’s independence in 1956. Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was 43 when he took office in 2015. Polish President Andrzej Duda won the election in 2015 at the age of 43. Georgia’s President Giorgi Margvelashvili took the oath of office in 2013 at 44.

Excluding democratic governments, notable young leaders at the moment include North Korea’s Kim Jong-un who is 34, Mohammed bin Salman, Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia who is 32, and the Emir of Qatar Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani who is 36. Some young leaders have recently lost or left office. Taavi Roivas was just 34 when he became prime minister of Estonia. He left office in 2016. In Kosovo, Atifete Jahjaga became president in 2011 when she was 36. She left office in 2016. In Italy, Matteo Renzi ran the government from early 2014, when he was 39, until late 2016. In Britain, David Cameron was 43 when he became prime minister in 2010. He left office last year after the shock referendum to leave the EU.

Nigerian youths admire these young Western leaders, but cannot understand why their own country fails to throw up such symbols of youth excellence. I am aware that there are deep suspicions among Nigeria’s political elite regarding the character and quality of preparedness of today’s young Nigerians for leadership. However, this deep-seated cynicism does not diminish the imperative of raising a new generation that sees politics as a vehicle for promoting the Common Good, rather than a cafeteria where people are invited to ‘come and eat.’ To be sure, youth in itself is not a criterion for good leadership. Leadership is not about age, but about abilities and there is no theory that says being young is synonymous with abilities. However, the advantage of youth leadership is that it can count on the stamina of young people and their versatility in imbibing progressive ideas, something that is not common with old folks.

So what can we do to drive this generational transition in politics? The first thing is for us to generate massive support and push for the passage of the “Not Too Young To Run” bill that seeks to reduce the age limit for vying for elected office in Nigeria. The fact that this Nigerian campaign has an entry on Wikipedia and has a membership support base of over 10 million youths speaks to the determination of young people to change their political fortunes. The timely passage of this bill will hand a cheque to young people with which they can make a demand for their just rights in the political vault of our nation. This will significantly alter the contours of youth participation in politics and the generation of new ideas of political emancipation that seek to secure the release of today’s youth from the jaws and claws of political and ideological imprisonment of the expired political generation.

The second thing is the need to build an intellectual support base. Nigeria’s educational system is comatose, but there are millions of intellectually progressive Nigerian youths, with all the accoutrements of professional accomplishment in different spheres of life. Many more are currently studying and working abroad. These are the people to redeem Nigeria, and at some point they will have to consider returning home to fire the revolution for change. They belong to a new generation that Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah calls ‘Nigeria’s coming power elite’ in a 2009-essay published in The Guardian. A solid intellectual support base is the laboratory for crafting and clarifying the political ideas that will inspire the political paradigm shift that we earnestly yearn for. Here, the many civil society groups and other professional organisations with bulging youth participation have a key role to play. They must harness their assets in preparation for this appointment with destiny.

Furthermore, turning the tide of youth participation in politics calls for a new kind of youth-driven public education, that eschews the politics of disaffection, which is currently built on the architecture of anger, and replaces it with the politics of ideas that accentuates the best of enlightened Nigerian humanity. But again, all of this cannot happen in a society where young people have a shocking disdain for cerebral pursuits. The folly of the popular Nigerian youth cliché, ‘Who book don epp?’ is only symptomatic of the mental decay in Nigeria, and a dangerous counterpoint in a modern knowledge economy where ideas are the key drivers of social prosperity. We need to raise a turning point generation that takes active part in intelligent conversation on issues of leadership, politics, governance and public service in Nigeria. This is how our country can reflect ideas and inspired thinking of a new generation of young people who are positive about their country and are confident in their ability to shape its future.

The third and final point is developing a keen sense of political realism with regard to the current situation of things. The challenges of upturning the political gerontocracy in Nigeria are enormous, but they are not insurmountable. This truth must be kept constantly in mind. For instance, with the nature of elections, we are not going to succeed in displacing the politics of money with the politics of ideas by sweet speeches and eloquent sermonising. The politics of ideas does not do well on empty stomachs. Therefore, Nigeria’s socio-economic situation must significantly improve for us to build a consensus around key national issues during elections, instead of the ‘bread and butter’ politics that is still the order of the day. Consequently, any talk of eliminating the huge role played by money in elections can only be illusory.

Nigeria is not the only country where big money exchanges hands during elections. All over the world, elections roll on the political war chest of contenders as well as on ideas. In the 2016 American elections, both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton raised and spent approximately $1.8 billion. The 2012 money race was even worse. Barack Obama and Mitt Romney spent a combined sum of $2.6 billion in their election campaigns. This huge war chest may not be for stomach infrastructure, but it does mean that electoral victory requires the right permutation of money and ideas. In a country where hunger, starvation and misery walk freely on the streets, ‘stomach infrastructure’ will continue to play a huge role in deciding electoral outcomes.

Before his death in 2013, Chinua Achebe was full of disappointment about Nigeria’s squandered opportunities. In his memoir, There was a Country, he took his readers on a long walk through the literary response that war inspires. Laden with frustration, anger and protest, the book laments the inability of the leaders of Nigeria to set the country aright, since after the depredations of the civil war. Achebe thus handed on the book to the present and future generations of Nigerians to continue the struggle for a just and equitable democratic nation. The imperative of this project is predicated on a timeless piece of wisdom with which Achebe began the memoir: “An Igbo proverb tells us that a man who does not know where the rain began to beat him cannot say where he dried his body.” Osita Chidoka, a post-civil war child, knew the existential pull of that idea and it resonated deeply in his gubernatorial campaign. He did not win the election, but he has won the hearts of many young people who understand the need to start a new conversation about patriotism, politics, and power in Nigeria. His post-election speech reverberates with a clear understanding of the dynamics and matrices of Nigerian politics, and somehow provides a manifesto for generational leadership change.

In my view, he has a good opportunity to lead the movement for genuine political change by tapping into the ingenuity and creative pool of today’s youth. He has sufficiently demonstrated that he understands the imperative of building an inclusive nation that provides opportunities for all, irrespective of where you are born, what language you speak, and what God you worship. More than any of the top contenders for the Anambra governorship seat, he is the symbol of a new generation of young Nigerians that must conquer the old politics of littleness and small-mindedness that remains perpetually locked in a war of expired vocabulary. In this light, it will be in the interest of the older generation to stand back a little and support the push to get more visionary young people into public offices. I am sure that they too will like to see a country that works in their lifetime. As Chidoka has said, the Anambra gubernatorial election is a referendum on Nigeria’s future!

Ojeifo is a priest of the Catholic Archdiocese of Abuja, currently studying Religion and Global Politics at SOAS.