Nigerian Security Forces and the Responsibility to Protect
A wave of palpable anger settled upon me as I did the buttons of my shirt and readied for work that morning. I stared at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, still wet with tears. This in itself was unsurprising given that just thirty minutes earlier I was crying uncontrollably in the bathroom. But on this morning, I was torn between rage and responsibility; between being a professional mediator and trainer, and being a Nigerian citizen standing in solidarity with others against a grave injustice. The previous night, October 20, 2020, we had watched in horror on social media as men suspected to be members of the military opened fire on peaceful #EndSARS protesters in Lagos, Nigeria’s largest city. And that morning, in what appeared to be a cruel irony, I was scheduled to train some members of the Nigerian military on the principle of the Responsibility to Protect, adopted by the United Nations in 2005, and mandating the responsibility of governments to protect their citizens. I feared that I wouldn’t be able to hold back the rage I was feeling, or worse, the cynicism that despite having attended many workshops of this nature, the Nigerian state and its security agencies still followed the all too familiar path of perpetrating violence on the very people they were supposed to protect.
The disproportionate use of force and violence by the Nigerian security agencies on civilians has been a recurring theme throughout its history. In fact, it is the preferred tactic deployed by successive Nigerian governments in responding to deep-seated grievances. Nigeria has had a complex history since its independence from British colonial rule in 1960. This complexity may be more pronounced than in other countries considering Nigeria’s population size of over 200 million, and its incredible diversity in terms of ethnicity and religion. Consequently, governing the largely heterogeneous country can be quite complex, especially in the face of multiple grievances from the many peoples and groups that make up Nigeria. Unfortunately, the response to these grievances, and the subsequent unrest that arises from them, has been to resort to the use of force and violence by Nigeria’s security forces. The deployment of security forces to deescalate potential or actual violent situations isn’t in itself a wrong practice; in fact, it one often adopted by countries to protect citizens from civil unrest and the possible destruction of lives and properties. In the case of Nigeria though, it has routinely served as a precursor to the disproportionate use of violence on civilians and gross violations of human rights, as has been experienced in many instances such as in Odi, Gbaramatu, Zaria, Zaki Biam, etc.
This “shoot first, ask questions later” approach poses various dangers for the Nigerian State. First, it does not address the initial cause of escalating violence and is ultimately counterproductive. In many instances, it reinforces the positons of aggrieved groups and increases public sentiments towards those groups. This pattern is currently playing out across Nigeria, as many conflicts have persisted despite — or perhaps because of — the deployment of security officials. For example, Biafran separatist groups, such as the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), continue to command a large following in the South East region after the civil war fought more than fifty years ago. Various military exercises and the Nigerian government’s designation of IPOB as a terrorist group have done little to diminish its influence.
Another danger of this approach is that it encourages violent response from already aggrieved groups, especially in the absence of platforms for peaceful and constructive engagement. In many situations, the government has shown a reluctance to encourage dialogue with aggrieved groups choosing instead to respond with violence. This tactic has led to the increasing radicalization of individuals and groups who see violence as the only means to get the attention of the government. For example, in the Niger Delta region, after years of nonviolent agitations led by prominent activists such as Ken Saro Wiwa had been met with repressive action from the Nigerian military, many young men in the region took to violent insurgency and attacks on the country’s oil and gas facilities from 2003–2007 leading to billions of dollars lost in revenue by the government. It was then that the Federal government declared an amnesty program where stipends were paid to repentant militant groups in exchange for peace. Similarly, according to the Brookings Institute, there is a fair consensus that the radicalization of Boko Haram followed a government clampdown in 2009, in which some 800 of its members were killed. The group’s leader, Mohammed Yusuf, was also killed after that attack while in police custody. Boko Haram, according to reports, has been responsible for more than 37,000 lives since 2011. Returning to a familiar playbook, the government has currently commenced a controversial amnesty program for repentant Boko Haram members, effectively sending a message that violence pays.
The Nigeria government needs to evolve its approach of responding to conflict with military might. One fundamental approach to adopt is to understand conflict as the evidence of a struggle against systemic oppression inherent ‘’in a society’s structures.” When viewed from this lens, conflict becomes an opportunity for the government to understand the myriad structural issues bedeviling its people and can work together with aggrieved groups to address those structural issues. This sort of understanding also lessens the temptation to fight fire with fire each and every time grievances arise, or to resort to paying for peace without ever understanding the origins of unrest.
Also, it is important for the Nigerian government to set a standard of accountability for security officials involved in human rights violations. It is instructive that no one has been held responsible for atrocities committed in Odi, Zaria, and Gbaramatu. And we are seeing a repetition of this pattern with the many denials of the Nigerian Army regarding the events that transpired in Lekki on the 20th of October, 2020. As long as security officials involved in human rights violations are not held accountable, they will continue to perpetrate violence on those they are called to protect.
I ended up giving the training that day to those military officers because I understand that concepts like the responsibility to protect are critical to a functioning and accountable democracy. I have also learned, however, that all the workshops in the world will do nothing if they are not followed up with processes for implementation and procedures for accountability undertaken at the same time by the government.
