Profiling courage: A review of Paul Tarfa’s A Profile in Courage
That Winston Churchill’s quote about history being written by the victors has proven not to be the case in Nigeria, as many other theories have. This is especially true when it comes to the history of the Nigerian Civil War-even if General Yakubu Gowon insists that there was no victor and no vanquished-and the events […]
That Winston Churchill’s quote about history being written by the victors has proven not to be the case in Nigeria, as many other theories have. This is especially true when it comes to the history of the Nigerian Civil War-even if General Yakubu Gowon insists that there was no victor and no vanquished-and the events that led to it. The narrative of that war has been dominated by the Biafran side.
I remember asking a prominent northerner, Alhaji Ahmad Joda, a permanent secretary in the civil service during the war why the narrative from the other parties in the crises had been minimal and his response was that at the time, they felt that it was a brotherly fight and since the war was over, there was no need dwelling on the issues and rubbing it in. A mistake, he admitted.
Fortunately, Major General Paul Chabri Tarfa, a prominent actor in those days and in the subsequent historic events in the country afterwards did not exactly share those views. His book, A Profile in Courage, an autobiography, is a compendium of many events and insider perspective on key events that shaped what Nigeria has become today. The first edition was published by Spectrum books in 2007. The revised edition, published by Origami Books was launched this May in Abuja.
The sense one gets from the narrative of Gen. Tarfa’s life is that of a committed career soldier, one, who at the age of 42, decided to retire from the army, based on principles, and a man determined to set the records straight. The subtitle of the book, “Let the Truth Be Told” clearly states this.
Perhaps if Gen. Tarfa had not taken the course of action he took on January 15 1966, the day Nigeria witnessed its first military coup, (or in Tarfa’s words, “the day that ushered in the seed of discord among the different tribes of Nigeria”) the history of the country would have been different today. Not many accounts of these events have detailed the role the then young Lieutenant Tarfa, of the Federal Guards in Lagos, played.
His commanding officer was Major Donatus Okafor, one of the notorious “Five Majors” who plotted the January ‘66 coup. While Okafor was out trying to murder Brigadier Zakaria Maimalari, Tarfa realised there was something amiss and decided to take charge of the Federal Guards, detaining the mutineers who were regrouping at the barracks, thereby preventing them from carrying out their assignments in the coup. Clearly Tarfa did not realise the implication of what he was doing then, but it turned out to be a crucial intervention that led to the collapse of the coup attempt.
Gen. Tarfa is not shy to state the importance of his intervention, as he is not shy at voicing his suspicions of Gen. Thomas Aguyi Ironsi. Was Ironsi aware of the coup or did he just profit from it? Tarfa thinks, based on evidence available to him, compromising mostly of questionable actions Ironsi took on the night, made Ironsi complicit. On the grounds that Ironsi was aware of the death of Brigadier Maimalari that night, and still went ahead to instruct troops not to take orders from anyone other than Maimalari definitely suggested something dubious to Gen.Tarfa.
“In my opinion, the general might have been innocent of the plot but there is sufficient reason to prove his complicity,” (p.147).
Maimalari. Now that is one figure whose history has remained largely untold, but every account of the 1966 coups and the subsequent national tragedy boils down to the murder of this soldier. Historian Max Siollun highlights this in his book ‘Oil Politics and Violence: Nigeria’s Military Coup 1966-1976’, as did John de St. Jorre in ‘The Brothers’ War: Biafra and Nigeria’ and so has Gen. Tarfa. Perhaps if Maimalari had survived, the January coup would have failed, and the revenge coup of July 1966 would not have happened. More than the assassination of the Premiere of the Northern Region, Sardauna Ahmadu Bello and Prime Minister Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, Maimalari’s death was the one that most aggrieved northern soldiers and was the raison d’état of the July ’66 revenge coup. ‘A Profile in Courage’ toes this line as well.
What he did gloss over though, rather disappointingly, was his role in the July 1966 counter coup, or Operation Aure, as it was tagged. He did document the build up to it, the rise of ethnic tensions following the “one-sided” coup of January, the fact that Igbos generally took ownership of that unfortunate coup, goading others who have suffered losses from it and generally drawing resentment to themselves.
As the second in command at the Federal Guards, it was inevitable that Tarfa would be drawn into the plotting of the second coup, himself and Joe Garba, the commanding officer since January ‘66. It really is surprising how little space Gen. Tarfa gave to the execution of the July coup and even though he goes to length to demonstrate how he had Joe Garba ensured their operation was bloodless, one is left with the sense that there is so much left unsaid. In his account of his encounter with Joe Garba that night of July 29th, after Lt. Garba had developed cold feet, then Lt. Tarfa had said to him, “You are a coward. We have been told what to do. We are not going to kill anyone and nobody is going to kill us” p.196. What stands out is that prior to this point, the general does not give us any sign that he was involved in the plotting and seemed surprised anytime his colleagues mentioned a revenge coup.
But in that episode, we get a glimpse of the firebrand Lt. Col. Murtala Mohammed, the leader of that plot, charging into the barracks and demanding for Lt. Garba.
“Tell him I will break his neck if he’s afraid,” he said to Tarfa before moving on.
This glossing over becomes even more glaring when compared to the fact that Gen. Tarfa dedicated the first 48 pages to chronicling the history of his native Garkida
He however did not mince words in documenting his role, and a huge role it was, in shaping the Federal Guards after that coup. In case you are wondering about the Black Scorpion, most commonly associated with Benjamin Adekunle and his exploits during the Biafra war, Gen. Tarfa has something to say about that since he was “the original black scorpion”, earning the nickname kunama, after his exploits during the January coup. The black scorpion logo of the Federal Guards, now the Guards Brigade, is directly traced back to him. Details of how Adekunle came by the insignia and ended up bearing that nickname are detailed in the book.
General Tarfa’s book is big, 400 pages, and chronicles the civil war, his role in the war-without failing to whack Murtala Mohammed for his costly river crossing operations. He was kinder to Brigadier Mohammed as Head of State though as he was to Abacha despite saying, “he took the posture of a dictator,” he went on to highlight the economic gains of his government.
But of General Babangida, his judgement is more severe. “General Babangida’s actions were bold but it cannot be denied that some were not based on merit on professionalism.” (p.358). Gen. Tarfa goes into details of how IBB compromised military traditions, making senior military officers effectively curtsy to their juniors holding political offices.
Despite retiring from the army in 1988, having repositioned the Nigeria Defence Academy into an apex military institution, in A Profile in Courage, Gen. Tarfa has something to say about every coup Nigeria has witnessed since 1966. As he does about the decadence in the IBB administration, highlighted by an episode during his stint with the Nigeria Railway Corporation, where his successor, Samuel Ogbemudia, repainted an old railway coach, dubbed it “The Spirit of IBB” and commissioned it to fanfare. That coach never left the terminal (p358).
There are other humourous episodes in this book too, like the story of the “Aika show you cane”, the name given to the officers cane’ that army officers of his generation liked to wield.
But if there has to be only one takeaway from this book, and there are quite a few, it is that indecision has characterised leadership in the country from Balewa’s failure to act on persistent rumours of a coup, to Ironsi’s gross underestimation of national discontent following his handling of the January ’66 coup plotters. It is sad to see that the government today, by its unconvincing handling of the herdsmen crisis across the country, has not taken these vital lessons of history seriously. The overwhelming feeling one gets is that we have had a successions of Neros fiddling while this Rome burnt.
Books like this are crucial reminder of this, and the importance of setting records straight for what it is worth.