MILITARY intervention in governance has long cast a formidable shadow over the political evolution of Nigeria and the African continent at large, often undermining democratic institutions and entrenching cyclesof instability. While some proponents argue that such interventions are necessitated by systemic corruption or governmental inertia, history reveals a troubling pattern of authoritarianism, human rights violations, and economic regression in their wake. This article embarks on a five-part series that delves into the intricate dynamics of military involvement in African politics, with Nigeria as a focal point.
When Nigeria gained independence from British colonial rule on October 1, 1960, it was widely hailed not just within its borders but across the continent and beyond as the natural leader of Africa. This perception was not merely aspirational; it was grounded in compelling geopolitical, demographic, and economic realities. Nigeria’s sheer size, vast population, and immense natural resources positioned it as a beacon of potential for the post-colonial African order. Sixty-five years later, however, that early promise remains a complex and contentious subject, mired in contradictions and elusive achievements.
At the time of independence, Nigeria was the most populous country in Africa, with nearly 40 million people roughly one-fifth of the continent’s entire population at the time. This demographic heft alone lent the country a central role in the African project of post-colonial self-definition and unity. It was assumed that Nigeria, by virtue of its numbers, would have the political capital and cultural depth to exert leadership across the continent.
Furthermore, Nigeria’s geographic vastness covering over 923,000 square kilometersoffereda microcosmof Africa’sdiversity. Fromthe savannahof the north to the rainforest of the south, and from the Niger Delta to the western grasslands, Nigeria was a melting pot of ethnicities, languages, and religions. This diversity, though potentially volatile, was also seen as a strength: a proving ground for pluralistic governance that could inspire similar experiments elsewhere in Africa.
Equally significant was Nigeria’s economic promise. With immense reserves of oil, gas, tin, and other minerals, coupled with fertile agricultural lands, the country had all the ingredients for rapid industrialization and sustainable development. Lagos, the economic capital, was already a bustling hub of commerce, while cities like Kano, Ibadan, and Port Harcourt were emerging as regional centers of trade, culture, and learning.
International observers, especially in the West, were keenly attuned to Nigeria’s prospects. Publications like Time, The Economist, and The New York Times in the 1960s frequently featured Nigeria as Africa’s great hope; a potential counterweight tothe Soviet-alignedstatesonthe continentanda modelfor democratic development in the Global South. Nigeria’s own leaders, notably Prime Minister Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa and President Nnamdi Azikiwe, embraced a Pan-African vision. They actively participated in the formation of the Organization of African Unity (OAU) in 1963 and made concerted efforts to support liberation movements in Southern Africa. Nigeria’s foreign policy, articulated through its famous “concentric circles” model, placed Africa at the center of its diplomatic engagements, further reinforcing its status as a regional powerhouse.
However, beneath this veneer of promise lay deep structural fault lines. The very
diversity that was hailed as Nigeria’s strength soon became a source of intense political rivalry. Regionalism, ethnic competition, and the absence of a unifying
national ideology undermined the early post-independence state. The First Republic collapsed under the weight of military coups and counter-coups, culminating in the tragic Nigerian Civil War (1967–1970), which laid bare the fragility of the Nigerian state.
The war marked a turning point: Nigeria’s claim to moral and political leadership in Africa was severely compromised. Though the country managed to preserve its territorial integrity, the cost was immense, millions dead, institutions weakened, and a generation traumatized. The post-war oil boomof the 1970s, rather than catalyzing national development, ushered in an era of endemic corruption, rentier politics, and uneven development.
By the 1980s and 1990s, Nigeria had shifted from being perceived as Africa’s hope to being emblematic of its challenges. Repeated cycles of military dictatorship, economic mismanagement, and human rights abuses alienated the country from the international community. Despite having Africa’s largest reserves of crude oil, Nigeria’s infrastructure crumbled, poverty soared, and social cohesion eroded. In contrast, other African nations with fewer resources like the Botswana, Mauritius, and later Rwanda began to outperform Nigeria on development indices. South Africa, following the end of apartheid, increasingly emerged as an alternative center of continental gravity, especially in economic and institutional leadership.
Moreover, the rise of Boko Haram in the 2010s, persistent energy crises, and widespread youth unemployment further complicated Nigeria’s leadership claims. While the country remains Africa’s largest economy and most populous nation, its influence is often viewed as episodic rather than systemic. To reclaim its rightful place as a continental leader, Nigeria must overcome its internal contradictions and invest in building resilient, inclusive institutions. Only then can it fulfill the promise that captivated the continent and the world at the dawn of its independence.
In the aftermath of African independence during the late 1950s and 1960s, many newly formed states struggled with the challenges of political consolidation, economic development, and nation-building. The first significant military intervention occurred in Ghana in 1966, when President Kwame Nkrumah was overthrown by the military while on a diplomatic trip abroad. This coup became a turning point in African political history, not only because it disrupted one of the most prominent post-colonial administrations but also because it set a precedent that other militaries would soon follow.
The Ghanaian military justified its actions by accusing Nkrumah’s government of authoritarianism, economic mismanagement, corruption, andthesuppressionof civil liberties. These justifications resonated with many citizens who had grown disillusioned with the ruling elite. Shortly afterward, Nigeria experienced its own series of coups starting in 1966, citing similar reasons: rampant corruption among political leaders, deepening ethnic divisions, electoral fraud, and a general breakdown in political order. What followed was a wave of military takeovers that spread across West Africa into Central and East Africa, and eventuallytouched parts of North Africa.
In nearly every case, the military regimes used a strikingly similar narrative to
legitimize their actions. Coup leaders often presented themselves as national saviors who were stepping in to rescue their countries from corrupt civilian politicians, crumbling economies, and widespread instability. Bad governance was one of the most frequently cited reasons. Civilian leaders were accused of mismanaging public resources, failing to deliver development, and enriching themselves at the expense of the people. This was often accompanied by a broader critique of political corruption including nepotism, bribery, embezzlement, and the misuse of foreign aid and national wealth.
