Justice on trial: The crisis of fair hearing in military trials

Justice is the foundation upon which every civilized society stands. It is the invisible line that separates discipline from oppression, lawful prosecution from persecution, and institutional order from abuse of power. Nowhere is this principle more important than in military trials, where the stakes are extraordinarily high and where the balance between national security and […]

Justice is the foundation upon which every civilized society stands. It is the invisible line that separates discipline from oppression, lawful prosecution from persecution, and institutional order from abuse of power. Nowhere is this principle more important than in military trials, where the stakes are extraordinarily high and where the balance between national security and human rights must be carefully preserved.

Yet history, both in Nigeria and across the world, has repeatedly shown how easily this balance can collapse when the institution making the accusation also assumes control of the entire process of investigation, detention, prosecution, and judgment. In such situations, the fear naturally arises: can there truly be fairness when the accuser effectively becomes the judge?

 Nigeria’s history is deeply marked by controversial allegations of coup plotting, mutiny, and conspiracy against the state. During the regime of Sani Abacha, several military officers and political figures, including Olusegun Obasanjo and Shehu Musa Yar’Adua, were accused of involvement in an alleged coup plot that many later described as a “phantom coup.” The trials that followed were criticized both locally and internationally for secrecy, lack of transparency, questionable evidence, and confessions allegedly obtained under pressure. To many observers, the process appeared less like a search for truth and more like a confirmation of decisions already made behind closed doors.

Years later, under democratic governments, allegations of unfair dismissals, arbitrary detentions, compulsory retirements, and questionable military disciplinary actions continued to surface. Numerous officers complained of being denied fair hearing, removed without proper court martial proceedings, or subjected to punishments without transparent investigations. The recurring concern in all these cases has remained the same: when power becomes concentrated in one institution without adequate independent oversight, justice itself becomes vulnerable. 

Today, these concerns are once again painfully relevant.

About 36 military officers and some civilians have now spent several months in detention following allegations tied to security-related offenses. Yet despite the gravity of these accusations, troubling questions continue to surround the entire process. The prolonged detention, the absence of publicly known substantial evidence, and the reliance on statements allegedly extracted under torture and severe raise serious concerns about the integrity of the proceedings.

A justice system cannot claim fairness while relying on fear as its primary tool of investigation. Confessions extracted through torture, intimidation, psychological pressure are fundamentally unreliable. History has consistently proven that extreme suffering can force individuals to say anything simply to survive. Such statements cannot become the moral or legal foundation upon which lives, careers, and reputations are destroyed.

Most troubling, however, is the structural imbalance at the heart of the process. The military institution involved appears to occupy multiple roles simultaneously: the complainant alleging wrongdoing, the body conducting the investigation, the authority responsible for detention, and now the institution leading the prosecution before a special military tribunal. This concentration of authority creates not only the risk of bias but also the appearance of predetermined outcomes. And in matters of justice, appearance matters almost as much as reality itself.

The principle of fair hearing is not merely a legal technicality. It is a sacred safeguard designed to protect every human being from the misuse of power. Fair hearing demands:

-an impartial tribunal,

-access to adequate defense,

-the presumption of innocence,

-credible and independently verifiable evidence,

and protection from torture, coercion, and degrading treatment.

Without these protections, trials risk becoming procedural rituals whose outcomes are shaped not by truth, but by institutional interests.

This issue extends beyond the fate of a few detained officers. It touches the very soul of justice within our society. A nation cannot strengthen its institutions by weakening the rights of its citizens. A military cannot preserve honor by abandoning fairness. True discipline is not built through fear or coercion, but through integrity, accountability, and respect for lawful process.

No institution, regardless of its importance, should operate beyond scrutiny where human liberty and dignity are concerned. The pursuit of national security must never become an excuse for undermining justice itself. For when justice becomes selective, every citizen becomes vulnerable.

History teaches painful lessons about what happens when fear overtakes fairness. Many individuals once condemned under controversial allegations were later viewed differently by history. Some were released, some vindicated, and some never lived long enough to see their names cleared. Yet the scars left behind — on families, institutions, and national conscience — endured long after the trials ended.

Today, we are reminded once again that justice must not only exist in law books and official statements; it must be visible in action, procedure, and conduct. The credibility of any tribunal depends not merely on its authority, but on the confidence people have in its fairness and independence.

For when the accuser becomes the judge, justice itself stands on trial.

 

Mohammed resides in Abuja