By Banji Ojewale
The security and welfare of the people (of Nigeria) shall be the primary purpose of government— The Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria
*TinubuIn 1976, the military regime of Olusegun Obasanjo sought to stir the patriotic instincts of our young citizens by decreeing the National Pledge into our lives. It must be recited in all Nigerian schools, the junta said. The general’s martial mind given to governing by fiat and force led him through only one route to patriotism: a mental enslavement of the boys and girls through feeding on the pledge would lead, willy-nilly, to their loyalty to the state and its agents and agencies. If they voiced it out many times over the years, their impressionable minds would give way to deeds of loyalty and love for the land, even if they were under an oppressive, objectionable and off-putting government.
I
challenged that position in an article I published in the Daily Times of
October 1, 1976. My argument was that the government wasn’t entitled to demand
honour from a citizen it didn’t honour. In a society of representative order, a
contract was at work whose intrinsic iron-cast rules must be obeyed by both
parties, I said. I took a great deal of my submissions from the classical works
of Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, three faces of petty-bourgeois
philosophy and Karl Marx and Friedrich Engel, the duo who finally deepened the
essence of statehood and society as a treaty in which rulers exist at the
pleasure of the ruled and not the other way.
The state
derives its authority and legitimacy from fulfilling an inviolable ‘oath’: to
seek, above all other pursuits, the ‘’security and welfare’’ of its citizens.
The state doesn’t first ask the people to be loyal to it. The country, through
its loving, caring and welfarist drive, would set the pace; then would follow,
automatically, a citizenry ready, not only to abide by the good laws of the
land, but also to be prepared to lay down their lives in defence of their
leaders and the country. Leaders and agents of government, selfless ones, must
first love the people, for the latter to desire to appreciatively love the
former. It’s very much like the Scriptural insight: “We love him (God), because
he first loved us.’’ It’s a binding deal between two consenting associates.
Each coadjutor must throw something into the relationship. The state must not
be a preying, praetorian parasite; none of the parties must be a spectator and
lord of the manor either.
But in the Nigerian union, we’ve had a false,
flawed and frosted pledge since 1976: I
pledge to Nigeria my country. To be faithful, loyal and honest. To serve
Nigeria with all my strength. To defend her unity, and uphold her honour and
glory. So help me, God. What’s the
pledge asking the country to do here? Where is the place of the state in this
pledge? What’s its input? What’s the state offering to deserve these sacrifices
from the people? It’s not giving free education and free health to all at all
levels. There’s no employment for most of our people. Nor is the state giving
the citizens such other basic needs as all-round security, protection for the
vulnerable and guarantees to allay our anxieties about the future, immediate or
long-term.
These were concerns that crossed my mind
following President Bola Tinubu’s charge to Nigerians as they marked the close
of 2024 Ramadan. He pleaded with his compatriots to show more love to their country
than they do to others. Tinubu was reported to have ‘’emphasised the need for
Nigerians to prioritize the exhibition of love for their country.’’ The
president said: ‘’ The resilience and sacrifice that we have shown during these
months should be preserved. Be a kind and cheerful giver. We must love our
country more than any other country, because that is the only one we have. We
must continue to protect the integrity of our government and leadership.’’
Our president didn’t fail in the task of
exploiting the occasion to call us to loyalty and nationalism. All those in
political authority do so. They seek the abiding partnership and cooperation of
the people, both those who voted for them or against them. Once in power after
the ballot, the government, whether a coalition or a winner-takes-all one, becomes
the father-figure of all. Partisan specks and identities recede and give way
for utilitarianism to take charge. They don’t go the path of Muhammadu Buhari,
Tinubu’s predecessor, who raised parochialism to scary levels with a strange
sharing formula of the ‘spoils of office’. 97%
would go to those who electorally swept him into power, with 5% left for those
who didn’t.
But while our leaders can’t be questioned for urging
the people to love the fatherland, we’re also legitimately compelled to draw
their attention to what comes first in the inexorable dynamics of statehood. We
must remind them that they and the people are bonded to a contract undergirded
by the Constitution they swore to honour. The document telegraphically states
what must be prioritized: the security
and welfare of the people shall be the primary purpose of government.
We overthrow the Constitution when we ask a
people denied their constitutionally guaranteed rights to release their love
and loyalty to the state. We can see the result of these deprivations
everywhere. Millions of Nigeria’s school-age children are roaming the streets,
raising shadow families and feeding the palates of crime godfathers. We have
tens of millions of our citizens sliding into extreme poverty, a point where
presidential homilies and clerical sermons would amount to gibberish.
The atmosphere is further fouled and charged
with tension when those calling for patriotism and sacrifice are not promoting
ascetic lifestyles required of true leadership. Nigerians don’t see
servant-leaders. They see government and its principals and their cronies getting
richer than the people they are expected to serve selflessly. They hear of
removal of fuel subsidy and the promise of gargantuan savings dropping into
government coffers meant to lead to the upgrade of the living standards of the
citizens. Instead, there’s more hardship, worsened by a regime of
death-carrying palliatives.
This isn’t ideal government and governance
because as John Ruskin, English art critic and writer of the 19th
Century said, ‘’ The first duty of government is to see that people have food,
fuel and clothes. The second, that they have means of moral and intellectual
education.’’
These are the needs to be provided Nigerians ahead of asking us to give our
love and loyalty. To be sure, love isn’t unconditional in relationships. When
the governed are cherished by their governor, leaders wouldn’t labour over long
speeches and motivational talk and radio-TV jingles to persuade us to sacrifice
for the land in moments of national crisis.
*Ojewale is a writer and journalist in Ota, Ogun State, Nigeria.
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