Rivers State is not witnessing the death throes of godfatherism; it is witnessing the consequences of political naivety. Until Nigerian politicians learn that politics is not a crusade but a chessboard, crises like this will remain cyclical, costly, and ultimately tragic for governance and democracy alike.
Saul replied, “You are not able to go out against this Philistine and fight him; you are only a young man, AND HE HAS BEEN A WARRIOR FROM HIS YOUTH.” – 1 Samuel 17:33 NIV
The political confrontation between Governor Siminalayi Fubara and the Rivers State House of Assembly, with the unmistakable shadow of Nyesom Wike looming large, reached a new crescendo this week. The House of Assembly, widely perceived as an extension of Wike’s political machinery, has commenced a fresh impeachment process against Fubara and his deputy. Once again, Nigeria is confronted with the vexed, emotionally charged, but poorly understood phenomenon of godfatherism in politics.
|
|
Public sentiment has largely coalesced around the demonisation of Wike. Many social media commentaries have framed the episode as a morality tale of an overbearing godfather seeking to humiliate his political son. While such outrage is understandable, it is also analytically shallow. Godfatherism is neither new nor uniquely Nigerian, nor is it an aberration that can be wished away by public anger. It is a structural feature of politics; particularly in systems where political capital, party machinery, campaign financing, and elite bargaining, determine access to power.
The more uncomfortable truth is this: godfatherism and politics are inseparable. What varies across political systems, both advanced democracies and emerging ones, is not its existence, but how skilfully political actors manage it.
|
|
|---|
In Rivers State, the unfolding crisis is less about the immorality of godfatherism and more about Governor Fubara’s failure to understand, internalise, and master the power game. The lessons of history both, in the Nigerian and global arenas, are replete with examples of political protégés who successfully displaced their godfathers. They did not do so through frontal confrontation or moral grandstanding. They prevailed through patience, stealth, and the quiet capture of political structures.
In advanced democracies such as the United States, for instance, political godfatherism takes institutionalised forms. Top party bureaucrats, donor networks, and political action committees exercise enormous influence over candidates. Presidents, governors, and mayors routinely emerge from elite bargains and tacit agreements. Yet, successful politicians who eventually assert independence, do so only after consolidating control of party machinery, legislative support, and financial pipelines. They wait until the structures that produced them are no longer capable of unmaking them.
Equally important is the subtler dimension of Wike’s strategy. By keeping the governor permanently entangled in political warfare, his opponents are ensuring that governance itself becomes impossible. Policy paralysis, administrative drift, and stalled development will define Fubara’s tenure. And in politics, performance records matter. Even if Fubara somehow secures a ticket for a second term, he will be campaigning without achievements to showcase…
The same pattern can be observed in emerging democracies across Latin America, Eastern Europe, and parts of Asia. Political rebellion without structural control is not courage; it is recklessness.
Governor Fubara’s predicament stems from a fundamental miscalculation. Barely six months into office, he reportedly reneged on a private political agreement with his godfather, at a time when he controlled neither the Rivers State House of Assembly, nor the party structure in the state. Out of 32 assembly members, he was aligned with fewer than four. The party machinery remained firmly in Wike’s grip. In political terms, Fubara declared independence without an army, without territory, and without supply lines.
Politics punishes such errors mercilessly!
What is unfolding now is not merely vengeance; it is strategy. Wike and his loyalists are not driven by emotion alone. Their objective is to force a stalemate so total that Governor Fubara becomes politically irrelevant. Impeachment is only one pathway. Another is the orchestration of a constitutional crisis that is severe enough to justify emergency rule. Either outcome achieves the same end: forcing Fubara out of the game entirely. Once pushed out; whether by impeachment or emergency rule, Fubara’s political future will effectively collapse. Even if legally cleared later, he would be unable to contemplate contesting another election. Power, once interrupted violently in politics, is rarely restored. He has probably not learnt from Ambode’s experience in Lagos!
Equally important is the subtler dimension of Wike’s strategy. By keeping the governor permanently entangled in political warfare, his opponents are ensuring that governance itself becomes impossible. Policy paralysis, administrative drift, and stalled development will define Fubara’s tenure. And in politics, performance records matter. Even if Fubara somehow secures a ticket for a second term, he will be campaigning without achievements to showcase; a candidate emptied of narrative, vision, and results.
…if Governor Fubara intends to complete his first term, he must return politics to where it began. That is, behind closed doors. Private agreements, however distasteful, are the currency of elite politics. Public confrontation over private bargains rarely ends well for the weaker party in the fight. Honour the agreement, buy time, consolidate quietly, and build independent structures patiently. That is how godfathers are outfoxed, not insulted.
Those encouraging him to “fight on” without offering a viable strategy are not his allies. They are, at best, political gamblers; at worst, predators seeking to exploit his vulnerability for personal gain. Nigerian political history is littered with examples of embattled leaders surrounded by cheerleaders who profited from chaos, while the principal actor paid the ultimate price.
Here lies a hard but necessary counsel: if Governor Fubara intends to complete his first term, he must return politics to where it began. That is, behind closed doors. Private agreements, however distasteful, are the currency of elite politics. Public confrontation over private bargains rarely ends well for the weaker party in the fight. Honour the agreement, buy time, consolidate quietly, and build independent structures patiently. That is how godfathers are outfoxed, not insulted.
Moral victories do not translate into political survival. Power does.
Rivers State is not witnessing the death throes of godfatherism; it is witnessing the consequences of political naivety. Until Nigerian politicians learn that politics is not a crusade but a chessboard, crises like this will remain cyclical, costly, and ultimately tragic for governance and democracy alike.
Iyen deba, Iyen deba….. Agreement is Agreement oooooo!
Oluwole Ojewale, a scholar on security governance in west and central Africa, wrote from Dakar, Senegal. He tweets via @woleojewale
