I believe that if we are really serious about moving forward as a nation, we need to re-think the celebration of Armed Forces Remembrance Day on 15 January, as it has degenerated into being a day of opening healing wounds on both sides of the conflict. One of the effects is that we remain stuck in the ugly events of the past, rather than making conscious efforts to move beyond them.
Nigerians celebrate 15 January of every year as Armed Forces Remembrance Day (AFRD). Also known simply as Remembrance Day, it is a day set aside to honour the servicemen of the Nigerian Armed Forces and veterans of the First and Second World Wars, as well of the Nigerian Civil War. The name was changed to ‘Armed Forces Celebration and Remembrance Day’ in 2024 to underline the fact that it is also about celebrating members of the Armed Forces still in service, as well as the fallen heroes in those conflicts. In fact, most members of the Commonwealth and several non-Commonwealth countries celebrate Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day) on 11 November to honour the end of the First World War because the War ended ‘at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month’ of 1918, in accordance with the armistice signed by representatives of Germany and the Triple Entente (the United Kingdom, France, and Russia) – though the War effectively ended with the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on 28 June 1919. With the end of the Nigerian or Biafran Civil War on 15 January 1970 (which was the day the instrument of surrender was handed over to Olusegun Obasanjo by Philip Effiong of the Biafran Army), Nigeria adopted 15 January as its own Remembrance Day.
|
|
I think it made a lot of sense then to use 15 January as Armed Forces Remembrance Day, especially given General Gowon’s symbolic declaration that there was “No Winner, No Vanquished” in the war – even if we all know there was a clear winner. Using 15 January as Armed Forces Remembrance Day was then meant to honour soldiers on both sides of the ‘brotherly’ conflict, who paid the supreme sacrifice and to celebrate the unity the end of the war was meant to usher.
Unfortunately, given that 15 January was also the Day the First military coup took place, Nigeria’s Armed Forces Celebration and Remembrance Day has unfortunately turned to be a Day to re-open old wounds on both sides of the conflict because every finger pointing leads to counter-finger pointing.
In an article on 21 January 2016 entitled “January 15, 1966 and after: We remember differently,” I responded to issues raised by Emir of Kano, HRH Alhaji Muhammadu Sanusi, who was quoted as warning that “Nigeria may experience a repeat of the 15 January 1966 military coup if some parts of the country continue in violence and disunity.” Emir Sanusi reportedly made the remarks on 14 January of that year at the 50th commemoration of the death of the Sardauna of Sokoto, Sir Ahmadu Bello. He was quoted as condemning “the situation where some individuals were trying to rewrite history by portraying themselves as the victims instead of the aggressors” (The Herald, 15 January 2016). Emir Sanusi was probably referring to the agitation by Biafra separatist groups, such as the Movement for the Actualization of the Sovereign State of Biafra (MASSOB) and the Indigenous Peoples Republic of Biafra (IPOB). Following from this, some have called for the history of the Civil War to be taught “truthfully.”
|
|
|
|---|
In my response, I remarked as follows:
“My aim in this piece is not to challenge the Emir’s condemnation of “the situation where some individuals were trying to rewrite history by portraying themselves as the victims instead of the aggressors” but rather to show that for every piece of our history, there are contending narratives and that people on opposite sides of an ugly event often remember differently and therefore will often interpret that event, including the apportioning of blame about it, differently.
It is for the above reason that social scientists argue that truth is relative, that what we call “the truth”, is in fact socially constructed and experiential, rather than an ‘objective reality’ or an immutable fact. Following from this, historiography (the art of history construction) is never neutral in the ideological, philosophical and political contestations in any plural society. I am sure if Hitler were to be given an opportunity to write about the history of the Second World War, his version of “the truth” will be manifestly different from the current dominant account about that ugly chapter in world history.
The truth is that there are contending perspectives on the 15 January 1966 coup, the 29 July 1967 coup, and on what caused the Civil War.
What caused the war? Depending on which side you are, explanations of what caused the Civil War differ. For many on the federal side, the war was simply caused by the desire of the people of the former Eastern Nigeria to secede from Nigeria as the Republic of Biafra and the decision of the rest of the country to fight to keep Nigeria one. For most Igbos, the Civil War was simply a war of self-preservation caused by the pogrom against them in the North.
There are a few facts about the coup which are not deniable: it was extremely bloody – as most military coups by junior army officers are wont to be. And it didn’t need to be, even if the coupists wanted to overthrow the civilian government. The ring leaders were mostly Igbo and Christians and there was regional imbalance in both the casualties and those spared. It was also argued that Major-General Ironsi, who became head of state following the coup did nothing substantial to punish the coup plotters, allegedly because they were his fellow Igbo. The anger of the North was therefore understandable.
Those who try to deny the ethnic (and religious) character of the coup counter-argue that the conspiratorial nature of coups and the consequences of failure, which attracts the death penalty, means lead coup plotters often recruiting from their close-knit groups (ethnic, regional or religious) and that subsequent coups in the country followed the same pattern. It is also argued that if the coup was a conspiracy by Igbo officers, it was also botched by Igbo officers – Ironsi in Lagos and Ojukwu in Kano.
If the coup of January 1966 was lopsided, the Northern revenge coup of July 1966 was even more so. Not only was Ironsi killed in a brutal manner, several Igbo military officers were killed. Then came the pogrom, which killed tens of thousands of Igbos, and which continued even after Gowon had firmly established himself as the head of state after the death of Ironsi. While there is a consensus that the Northern counter-coup of July 1966 and the anti-Igbo pogrom that followed were disproportionate in their grotesqueness to the sins of the 15 January 1966 coup makers, their defenders argue that reactions are rarely equal to the original actions, and that Igbos living in the North did not show humility after the 15 January 1966 coup. What seems obvious is that much of the Igbo anger about the Civil War is focused on stories of the pogrom following the counter-coup of 1966 and the devastating impact of the Civil War – kwashiorkor, deaths, opportunities lost, and Igbophobia.
What caused the war? Depending on which side you are, explanations of what caused the Civil War differ. For many on the federal side, the war was simply caused by the desire of the people of the former Eastern Nigeria to secede from Nigeria as the Republic of Biafra and the decision of the rest of the country to fight to keep Nigeria one. For most Igbos, the Civil War was simply a war of self-preservation caused by the pogrom against them in the North.
It is important for the ‘combatants’ on both sides of the argument to bear in mind that what is called truth is relative and socially constructed. What is needed is the use of historiography – the art of writing history in a way to achieve a given end – to heal the wounds of the 15 January coup, the wounds of the Civil War, the wounds from the subsequent coups in the country, as well as the pains of several aggrieved communities…
Obviously these two narratives are simplistic. They are at best among the trigger events to the war. The proximate causes of the 1966 Coup, which was initially received with jubilation across the country, cannot be divorced from the controversies around the 1962 census over the alleged inflation of figures in some regions, the acrimony over the 1964 federal elections and the ‘Operation Wetie’ in the Western Region (nicknamed the ‘wild wild West’) in 1965, during which there were widespread looting, arson and the burning of political opponents alive. Some ahistorical narrations of the 15 January 1966 military coup often give the wrong impression that Nigeria was an oasis of peace and tranquillity before the coup ‘messed’ things up. It wasn’t.
I believe that if we are really serious about moving forward as a nation, we need to re-think the celebration of Armed Forces Remembrance Day on 15 January, as it has degenerated into being a day of opening healing wounds on both sides of the conflict. One of the effects is that we remain stuck in the ugly events of the past, rather than making conscious efforts to move beyond them.
It is important for the ‘combatants’ on both sides of the argument to bear in mind that what is called truth is relative and socially constructed. What is needed is the use of historiography – the art of writing history in a way to achieve a given end – to heal the wounds of the 15 January coup, the wounds of the Civil War, the wounds from the subsequent coups in the country, as well as the pains of several aggrieved communities, including those who suffered from the Asaba Massacre of October 1967. This is what Rwandans seem to have done to help them heal from the effects of the 1994 genocide in the country. Outside the coups and the Civil War, several communities across the country, such as the Ogonis, Odi, Zaki-Biam and Zangon Kataf. still have institutionalised memories of hurt.
One of the key lessons from the First Republic, which many people gloss over, is that domination leads to resentment. During the First Republic, the Igbos dominated not just the public service but also the officer corps of the army (which was probably another reason for the preponderance of Igbo soldiers among the 15 January 1966 coup plotters). The residual resentment against the Igbo made it easier to mobilise other parts of the country against them during the war and also stoke the fear of domination among the other ethnic groups in the Eastern region. We also saw that pattern of resentment when Buhari’s nepotism and the favouring of Muslims from the North in his government led to the profiling of the Fulanis (even the ardent critics of Buhari’s clannishness) and the introduction of a new word, ‘Fulanisation.’ Under the Tinubu government, we also hear murmurs of ‘Yorubanisation.’ The bottom line is that the temporary advantages nepotism confers on any group has a short shelf life, and often ends up being an albatross on the people so favoured, including those who never benefitted from the government in question or who were even critical of that government’s parochial practices.
Jideofor Adibe is a professor of Political Science and International Relations at Nasarawa State University and founder of Adonis and Abbey Publishers (www.adonis-abbey.com). He can be reached at: 0705 807 8841 (WhatsApp and Text messages only).
