Ethical revolution in the age of Tinubu [OPINION]

By Abimbola Adelakun

If, by the end of his tenure, Bola Tinubu did not activate a socio-political orientation programme, he would have become the first president since 1983 to buck the trend. Civilian and military presidents have had one “ethical revolution” project or the other; so far, it is unclear whether Tinubu will sustain the trend. To clarify things a bit, two of the leaders we have had since 1983 (Ernest Shonekan, August–November 1993; Abdusalami Abubakar, June 1998 – May 1999) are exceptions. That is because their short-lived respective administrations were largely transitory. They had neither the time nor the stability to first entrench themselves and then attempt to define a national moral vision.

Leaders (political or not) usually promise their tenure will be a time of moral renewal, a reformation of values on which the political economy would be planked. Shehu Shagari’s “Ethical Revolution” was thus not the beginning of such aspirations, only its formalisation. That was the first time a Nigerian leader would propose reforming society’s values and attitudes through bureaucracies rather than the traditional channels of family, religion, and social groups. It is not hard to see where Shagari was coming from and what drove him toward such aspirations. The decade before him, Nigeria had gone through a civil war. No matter who you are before a war, you never remain the same after it. No one witnesses a war without having the edges of their humanity tweaked by the ugliness.

Following the ravaged days of war were the years of the oil windfall. Nigeria earned such astounding revenue from oil but unfortunately lacked visionary leaders. Those who gunned their way into power had no lofty agenda other than power as an end in itself. Thus began Nigeria’s Age of Waste, when superficialities supplanted substance. Nigeria not only frittered good money away, but we also effectively became a mono-economy and a consumocracy—people consuming everything yet producing nothing. Nigeria’s political economy was forever changed, and the imprudence of that era still haunts us.

Even if Shagari had lasted in power, his Ethical Revolution would still have failed to resolve the problems of our national character it tried to address. His government was not only morally compromised, but the character defect had also become ingrained.

Then came the supposed tough guy, Muhammadu Buhari, who introduced War Against Indiscipline. His was not going to a revolution of ethics by persuasion but through chastisement. Still, he failed. WAI was kicked out with Buhari. Good riddance, the nation thought. Then came Ibrahim Babangida with Mass Mobilization for Self Reliance, Social Justice, and Economic Recovery. The programme rehashed the same ideals as earlier ones: eschew wastefulness, value productivity, uphold truth and integrity, and above all, place the Nigerian identity at the crux of competing self-identifications. Of all the socio-political orientation programmes, this lasted the longest. That is not because its character reformation agenda succeeded; MAMSER mutated into the National Orientation Agency.

When Sani Abacha came into power, he introduced his version that, even by its very name, Not in Our Character, denies the reality of Nigeria’s social character. Every vice that was purportedly not in our character and which we were expected to denounce was, in fact, the substance of our character. Not in Our Character died before Abacha. When Olusegun Obasanjo got into power, he launched the Heart of Africa project that modified the reformation agenda from changing our manners to an outward projection of values. The national ethos he aimed to create was no longer just for intramural purposes but also to announce us as a relaunched economy, full of a young, dynamic, and resourceful population ready to engage in creative pursuits. It was the start of a new millennium, and the Obasanjo era, the beginning of the Fourth Republic, were the heady days of optimism.

Unfortunately, what started as a well-placed faith in the promise of new beginnings gradually gave way to a disillusionment that diseased the heart of Africa. Obasanjo had neither the personal discipline nor leadership integrity to advance his envisioned Nigerian ideal. His successors, Umaru Yar’Adua and Goodluck Jonathan, maintained the tradition by launching Rebranding Nigeria, (and which gave us the catchy slogan, Good People, Great Nation). Their vision barely survived the troubled days of the Yar’Adua Presidency. By the time Jonathan got into power, Rebranding Nigeria had become past tense.

Buhari’s second coming saw a re-launch of his old WAI gimmick, Change Begins With Me, but without soldiers ‘bulala’ to drive compliance. That programme did not survive the hypocrisy of the Buhari Presidency. After spending so much campaign time promising they would bring change to Nigeria, Change Begins With Me tried to push that responsibility back to the people who had looked up to them to set personal examples. It would perhaps have been easier to persuade the public to moral reform if Buhari himself had not been funded to power—and supported all through—by degenerate beings whose public life violently antagonised the ethos of change. Nobody could take Buhari seriously for too long. In any case, it was not long before both the project and its proponent (the major one being Lai Muhammed) fell into disrepute on account of their lack of character.

Tinubu got into power already weighed by many burdens, some of which had to do with the economic climate of 2023. Nigerians had just gone through one of the most enervating policies—the naira redesign project—that left everyone impoverished and sore. To speak of any ethical revolution in that context was to be more tone-deaf than Shagari whose project was activated when the enervated public had written him off as corrupt. Tinubu faced the unresolvable crisis of his legitimacy, and the unfavourable perception of his moral character has so far regulated his relationship with the public. While Buhari could posture anti-corruption by valorising poverty before his talakawa mentality followers, whose only desire in this world is to see the affluent humbled, Tinubu’s luxury life brooks no such pretence. He once publicly boasted that he is richer than a whole state in the country—a pretty bold claim for a man to whom you cannot trace any productivity.

Tinubu’s precedents also make it hard for him to speak against corruption or urge us to higher ideals. With which mouth will a man who cannot elaborate his pedigree, personal and professional, exhort anyone to virtue? The few times he tried to mention the platitude of “anti-corruption”, he came across as funny-laughable and funny-ridiculous. So far, the only intervention he has made in terms of defining a Nigerian character was to change the national anthem. That decision speaks more to his head being buried between the laps of nostalgia for a Nigeria long gone than a vision of a future to which we can all aspire. As I said before, and still certain of, the 2027 election will test Tinubu’s commitment to a Nigeria where people remain an indissoluble nation even though “tribes and tongue” differ.

Sincerely, I am relieved that he has avoided posturing an ethical revolution in a country where people are struggling with his impoverishing policies. Nigeria does not need to add another jeun jeun national project. Still, whatever the moral and managerial deficiencies of Tinubu, our society needs a defined moral vision that will drive social reformation. We need a leader with charisma and integrity to compel the better angels of beings and drive us to do great things. Despite all their ethical revolution agenda, our previous leaders serially failed in this quest largely because they would/could not muster the force of will that has made great leaders push their nations from the brink into prosperity and progress. Our current leader? I am not sure he will be any different.

Culled from The Punch