Pantami in realpolitik: Is this the end of the beginning?
During one of the darkest moments of the Second World War, Winston Churchill delivered a statement that would later become one of history’s most enduring reflections on political struggle and strategic patience: “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” […]
During one of the darkest moments of the Second World War, Winston Churchill delivered a statement that would later become one of history’s most enduring reflections on political struggle and strategic patience: “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” This quotation captures, with remarkable precision, the present political moment surrounding Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami.
In December 2025, I wrote a Daily Trust column titled “There Is Something About Pantami: Power, Piety, and the Politics of Gombe State”. At the time, I pointed out that Pantami occupied a peculiar space in Northern Nigeria’s imagination. For months, there was growing anticipation surrounding the possibility of his contesting the governorship of Gombe State. Among ordinary citizens, youth groups, professionals, technocrats, and sections of the religious community, enthusiasm was unmistakable. According to various political discussions and internal assessments circulating within the state, Pantami reportedly ranked among the leading aspirants in terms of popularity, intellectual appeal, and mass perception.
Let me share a personal experience. In 2015, I contested the primary election of House of Representatives seat of Kano Municipal, Kano State. I was defeated. It was an emotionally devastating experience. One lesson I drew is that politics, especially Nigerian politics, rarely rewards merit alone. Politics is not simply about competence; it is about structure, alliances, loyalty, timing, and the management of elite anxieties.
For Pantami, I understand that resistance to his candidacy emerged from influential stakeholders within the APC structure in Gombe State. Concerns reportedly centered not on his intellectual capability or national reputation, but on trust and political loyalty. Some stakeholders believed that during his tenure as minister, he maintained insufficient political alignment with the government of Gombe State. Others viewed his relationship with a former governor – long considered a major rival of the current governor – as evidence of competing loyalties within the state’s power architecture. Another reality I discovered is that in Nigerian politics, perception often matters more than explanation. Whether these concerns were fair or exaggerated is ultimately secondary. For Pantami, the political consequence was clear: the establishment became uncomfortable with his emergence.
Last Wednesday, therefore, he withdrew from the race, citing bias against him from party stakeholders. To many supporters, the withdrawal was disappointing. To seasoned observers of political history, however, it may simply represent the first major initiation into the unforgiving realities of realpolitik. The critical question now is not whether he suffered a setback. Almost every consequential political figure in history has suffered setbacks. The real question is: what does he do next?
As a ‘plain-clothes’ member of Pantamism, at this stage, I could see two broad strategic options before him.
The first option is to remain within the APC establishment, maintain cordial relationships, avoid confrontation, and hope that future opportunities emerge either within the next administration or in subsequent political arrangements. This is the safer path. It avoids immediate conflict and preserves access to national networks. Many politicians adopt this route after experiencing internal resistance. However, the weakness of this strategy is equally obvious. Political structures rarely empower individuals they fundamentally distrust. Pantami’s recent outbursts and public protestations created more doubt. Once an elite coalition collectively defines a politician as “unpredictable” or “insufficiently loyal,” that perception becomes difficult to reverse quickly. In Robert Greene’s The 48 Laws of Power, one principle states: “Never outshine the master.” Naturally, the masters of Gombe politics are uncomfortable to see a new shining boy next door.
Another lesson I learnt is that in many political systems, especially patronage-based democracies, independent popularity can unintentionally create elite suspicion rather than elite support. Pantami’s national visibility, intellectual independence, and cross-generational appeal may have strengthened grassroots admiration. At the same time, these qualities may have intensified establishment caution. Remaining in the APC may therefore preserve relevance, but it may also produce prolonged political stagnation unless there is a dramatic reconfiguration of alignments within the party.
Still, history provides examples of politicians who endured long periods of waiting before eventual rehabilitation. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu experienced years of political isolation during the military era before gradually building one of Nigeria’s most durable political structures. Muhammadu Buhari unsuccessfully contested presidential elections multiple times before eventually attaining power in 2015. Outside Nigeria, Abraham Lincoln lost numerous elections before becoming one of the most consequential leaders in American history. Political endurance is often more decisive than immediate victory.
The second option is far more difficult, but potentially far more historic. Pantami could gradually build a disciplined, ideology-driven political movement that transcends immediate electoral calculations and focuses instead on generational influence. This would require patience, sacrifice, and strategic clarity. It would also require accepting that meaningful political transformation rarely occurs within a single electoral cycle. Northern Nigeria has historically produced charismatic politicians, religious leaders, and technocrats. What it has rarely produced in recent decades is a coherent ideology-based political movement rooted simultaneously in: intellectual seriousness, moral discipline, technological modernisation, youth empowerment, and economic transformation.
Pantami possesses unusual assets for such a long-term project. He commands credibility among sections of the religious community. He appeals to educated youth interested in technology and modernity. He carries ministerial experience. He also possesses communication skills that combine scholarly authority with populist accessibility. These are not ordinary political assets. Yet personality alone is insufficient. Durable political movements require organisation, institutional depth, economic ideas, succession planning, and grassroots structures.
The greatest political figures often emerge not because they avoided defeat, but because they converted defeat into ideological clarity. Nelson Mandela spent 27 years imprisoned before becoming the central figure of democratic South Africa. Recep Tayyip Erdoğan emerged from imprisonment and political bans to construct one of the most enduring political movements in modern Turkish history. Closer to home, Aminu Kano built a political identity that outlived electoral defeats because it was rooted in ideology and social consciousness rather than immediate patronage.
That is perhaps the deeper lesson for Pantami. The governorship race of 2027 may be politically important, but history rarely remembers politicians merely because they contested elections. History remembers those who successfully build ideas, institutions, and movements that survive beyond their personal ambitions. Pantami and his supporters must therefore avoid emotional overreaction. Political disappointment should not be mistaken for political extinction. In fact, many careers only begin to mature after encountering organised resistance.
It is my firm belief that what occurred in Gombe does not represent the end of Pantami’s political relevance. It may instead represent the moment where symbolism confronts structure, where admiration encounters power calculation, and where popularity meets the hard mathematics of elite politics. Gombe elites will never hand over power on a platter of gold to Pantami. He must overtake and take over. It is important for the budding Pantamiyya Movement to understand this dictum. And this is precisely why Churchill’s words remain so relevant. This may not be the end. It may not even be the beginning of the end. But perhaps, for Pantami and for the evolution of a more ideas-driven politics in Northern Nigeria, it is simply the end of the beginning. For the next stage, the options are very clear.
El-Yakubu is a Professor of Chemical Engineering, Ahmadu Bello University, Email: [email protected]