So much for democracy, Nigerian style. Jimmy Carter, Colin Powell and hundreds of other international monitors will flock to Nigeria to observe the election of the country’s first civilian government in 15 years of military rule. Their job is to make sure the polling is free and fair. But pro-democracy activists–and many Nigerians–grumble that the election has already been bought. Obasanjo, a former military ruler bankrolled by generals who allegedly made their fortunes looting the national treasury, is almost certain to win, leading many Nigerians to complain that the transition to civilian rule won’t be a transition at all. Says Kelechi Achilike, a Lagos used-car dealer: “It’s just military rule by other means.”
Such cynicism used to be commonplace in Nigeria, but all that changed when former dictator Gen. Sani Abacha died of a heart attack last June. Abacha was the most bloodthirsty in a long line of military Big Men who have ruled Nigeria for all but 10 of its 39 years of independence, bankrupting the country, inspiring a culture of corruption, letting infrastructure disintegrate and citizens’ fortunes plummet. His five-year reign of terror (which Nigerians call the “years of the locust”) was characterized by poverty and death squads. So when his successor, Gen. Abdulsalam Abubakar, took over, freeing political prisoners and announcing that the military would cede power to civilians, people danced in the streets. If all goes as planned, Abubakar will cede power to the new president on May 29.
Obasanjo actually did the same thing in 1979, the country’s first military ruler to hand power to civilians. Supporters say he is the ideal president to guide Nigeria from military rule to civilian government–without threatening the Army and triggering another coup. Obasanjo insists he’s a democrat. Noting that he’s spent more time as a chicken farmer since he left the military than he did in uniform, he has promised to “relay the foundation of the norms and standards of democratic practices, good governance and ethical behavior.”
Critics don’t buy it. They note that while in power, Obasanjo built Nigeria’s first gulag on an island surrounded by crocodiles off the coast of Lagos, and suppressed trade unions and the press. His Yoruba kinsmen revile him for backing the interim government that followed the annulment of the last free elections on June 12, 1993, won by Yoruba Moshood Abiola. Abiola was later arrested by Abacha and died in prison last July awaiting Abubakar’s pardon.
Obasanjo’s only opponent Saturday will be another Yoruba, Olu Falae, an experienced politician and respected technocrat. As minister of Finance in the 1980s he introduced Nigeria’s first structural-readjustment program under the IMF. He is running as the candidate of the two other parties allowed to contest the presidency, and with the support of the Yoruba and the Ibo (the two largest ethnic groups in the south), Falae could give Obasanjo a run for his money.
And money to fund his campaign may be the key. Obasanjo’s backers are the richest men in Nigeria. After recent local elections, they piled into the PDP, elbowing aside the anti-Abacha politicians who founded it, and recruited Obasanjo. Why? The last thing the brass want is a civilian president who will challenge the military or probe how they amassed their wealth, as democracy activists have demanded. Last weekend Obasanjo told NEWSWEEK he enjoys support far broader than the generals’. Of his campaign’s supporters, he said, “At least I have shown a little bit of my hand; others have covered theirs up.”
International observers insist that whoever wins, this week’s election represents real progress for Nigeria. “Considering where we were when Abacha died,” says a Western diplomat, “total gloom, total isolation, what you see after six or seven months is pretty damn good. I wouldn’t put it on a par with Switzerland, but it’s not sliding back, either.” He predicts the odds are 2-1 that Obasanjo will win Saturday’s election. And why not? He says he’s earned it.
