Two wrongs make a rite

Throughout its short history, it is as if arrival at a crossroads has become a necessary ritual for the validation of its existence. Its politics, its religion and its communal living have all at one time or the other—and, indeed, continuously—led to crisis. I am in deep trouble, therefore I am. That’s Nigeria chest-thumpingly declaring.Crisis […]

Throughout its short history, it is as if arrival at a crossroads has become a necessary ritual for the validation of its existence. Its politics, its religion and its communal living have all at one time or the other—and, indeed, continuously—led to crisis. I am in deep trouble, therefore I am. That’s Nigeria chest-thumpingly declaring.
Crisis doesn’t just succeed crisis here; they accompany each other. While it is in the throes of its worst crisis—Boko Haram—which the government appears poised to exploit to ignite fresh electoral crisis that will almost certainly lead to another crossroads, the Inspector General of Police came with his assault on the National Assembly.
Penultimate Thursday the Federal Capital Territory Commissioner of Police, Mr Wilson Inalegwu, came out in full force to stop the Speaker of the House of Representatives Hon. Aminu Tambuwal and other lawmakers from getting access to the National Assembly. Members had just been recalled from recess to come and consider a request from the president for the extension of emergency rule in three North-eastern states. When they arrived, they found the legislature under lock and key and the altercation began. Soon, pandemonium broke loose—gate breaking, fence scaling and tear gas canister were all flying around. With great difficulty, the lawmakers, now teary-eyed, were able to get access to the building. It appeared a plot had been hatched by the government to impeach the Speaker, who had decamped to the opposition All Progressives Congress (APC).
But if he occupies the office of Speaker by virtue of the election he won on the platform of the People’s Democratic Party, PDP, becoming a popular speaker who defeated the government at its own game, can he remain at his post after leaving the party not as a result of a division in it? And as a result of this defection, there are now at least three—moral, ethical and political—questions which the Speaker must now answer. One, can he continue enjoying the perquisites the office bestows? Two, can he in all honesty continue occupying that office, discharging the leadership function it confers on him? Three, can he muster enough of the support of a majority of the legislators to again win the election for Speaker? Can he just now call for an election in order to call off government blackmail and bluff? If he can, h should. This is the only way he can legitimise his continued stay, something he can do even though his own party doesn’t have a majority in the House, if a majority the members so want it. It doesn’t matter that there only remain only so many weeks to the end of the term. It is not the length; it is the morality of it all.
By invading the National Assembly, the Inspector-General was clearly in the wrong, and he has been condemned by almost all commentators; but Tambuwal was not clearly in the right. And, as we all know, two wrongs do not make a right; but, going by what is going on, they damn well make a rite—a rite of passage for the country as it eerily slides into political anarchy and police statehood.
Following the invasion, it was initially all denial galore. Dr Doyin Okupe, the presidential spokesman, initially denied that the police had invaded premises of the National Assembly; but, realising that this position was clearly untenable, he said the police were just doing their job, apparently without any presidential directive. Later he corrected himself, saying that they were merely enforcing a court order, even though the subsisting court order at the time was the one that said the status quo should be maintained.
Finally, the Inspector-General came with his own explanation that debunked everything Okupe had said. According to the IG, the police were acting on intelligence that showed an attack on the National Assembly had been planned by hoodlums. But, if hired hoodlums had planned to attack lawmakers, it would be difficult to see how locking the gates could have been of any help in averting the attack. Unless, the intelligence showed bombs had been planted inside the building in which case keeping the Speaker and his friends outside would have saved them. Then the police might have to explain why they let in the Deputy Speaker and his group. But all this is the explanation of an act after the fact.
By declaring, in effect, the office of Speaker vacant, he had appropriated the powers of interpreting the constitution, a power that more properly belongs to the judiciary. That seat could only be declared vacant by way of an impeachment or a valid judicial process. By cordoning off the entrance to the National Assembly, he in effect interfered with the legislative process and procedure, deciding when law could be or couldn’t be enacted, a power that belongs to the legislature and the judiciary.
An order by the Inspector-General of Police doesn’t constitute a law known to Nigerians. Perhaps the IG is ignorant of the role of the police and the extent of his powers in a democracy, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone around with his forces behaving as if they were the praetorian guards of an absolute monarch.
With its history of inability, unwillingness and incompetence in implementing the law; it was indeed surprising that the police could feel so confident and think themselves competent enough to undertake the more hazardous task of interpreting it. But perhaps seeing itself as only guilty of that similar red-handed misconduct and suffering from the same disabilities as the judiciary, it might have taken its cue from that arm of governance. Everyone is becoming lawless.
Without respect for the rule of law now, before the election, there is no reason to suggest or expect that it will be there during the election; or, even more crucially, after it. The rule of law guarantees to the people equal protection of the law and the enjoyment of the right to due process and a speedy fair trial; and it ensures that the potential for abuse of power by those who wield it is effectively curtailed; and when it is do exercised, this is done in a way that is legally acceptable and not arbitrary or subject to the whims, caprice or manipulation of the temporary holders of power. Perhaps, the concept of the rule of law is democracy’s greatest gift to modern man; or is the matter indeed the other way round—that democracy is the greatest gift to have grown out of the concept of the rule of law?
And like the chicken and the egg, the two belong to each other in such a manner as never the twain shall part: if you see one, you see the other, and if you don’t see one, you will never see the other. Of the two, the rule of law enjoys greater primacy: it has to be there for it to be there; and, unlike democracy, it cannot be impersonated by the presence or even preponderance of institutional paraphernalia.
You can have politicians and political parties; you can have elections and even have a legislature and an executive. You can have a judiciary with a chief justice and all; and you can have a public service and its head. But all these do not amount to democracy; and, in fact, in the absence of the rule of law, they will all amount to its antithesis. And that is what we are getting.
The IG has made up his mind—or he has it made up for him—that Tambuwal is a goner. Even before the resignation, impeachment of the Speaker or his ouster by the courts, the Inspector General has refused to recognise that he is still the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Clearly, the man has decided to take sides, not with truth but with the government that has just confirmed his appointment. He has not given this nation the confidence that all will be well; but legislators will have no one to blame but themselves. Perhaps they will now begin to take interest in the appointment processes that come before them for vetting. When they collude with the executive or keep mute when qualified seniors are retired to allow the president to handpick a relatively junior officer to head the force.
The question to ask now is whether the police will accomplish their election duties with demonstrable fairness. As is known, the role of the police during elections is to maintain order and create an environment conducive to conducting a free and fair election. But will they keep enhanced visibility without being intimidating? Can they be relied upon to provide effective policing that secures all voting and counting sites? Will they be and remain visible, professional and impartial before, during and after the elections? Have they had any civic lessons on the electoral process, and do they know anything of the electoral law?
 The goal is to ensure that people are able to come out and vote without the threat or fear of intimidation, coercion, manipulation or violence, and that at the end all the votes will be counted, collated and transported in security. But, obviously, if the invasion of the National Assembly is a taste of things to come—and to all intents and purposes it is—then no one should blame any person if he says ‘bye-bye’ to free or fair or credible election or even to democracy itself, not to talk of any good governance after it.
And that will be the first step in the dance of the rite of passage into the adolescence of anarchy.