Who is. . . Abdusalam Abubakar?
Chris McGreal and The New York Times
One of the few things Nigerians can confidently conclude about their new military leader is that he is no Sani Abacha.
General Abdusalam Abubakar is a mild-mannered career soldier who progressed by avoiding the Machiavellian military politics – and coup plots – for which his predecessor was renowned. But beyond that Nigerians can only speculate as to what Abubakar’s appointment means and where it will lead them.
Abubakar appears to have been the compromise candidate. The ruling military council met into the early hours of Tuesday morning before settling on Abubakar at the expense of Lieutenant General Jeremiah Useni, a more senior officer closely tied to Nigeria’s brutal security apparatus. Instead, the ruling council opted to promote a career serviceman who is one of the few to have risen to the rank of general without holding an office in the government.
Abubakar trod a path which carefully wound around politics. He fought in Nigeria’s civil war in the late 1960s, a tragedy which has shaped the military’s emphasis on national unity. In the 1980s he served with United Nations peacekeepers in Lebanon. Recently he has commanded garrisons in various parts of Nigeria.
But the 55-year-old general, a Muslim northerner like most Nigerian soldiers, generally remained out of the public eye, despite rising to defence chief of staff after Abacha seized power nearly five years ago. Earlier this year he became Abacha’s de facto deputy after the arrest of the considerably more influential General Oladipo Diya, who was accused of plotting a coup.
As defence chief of staff, Abubakar oversaw the army, navy and air force, but he has no constituency in any of the services. It may yet prove a fatal weakness, opening the way for an early challenge to his power if factions within the military establishment are unhappy with the direction he is taking.
Abacha left a military that is both Africa’s largest and perhaps least unified. Wave after wave of purges of senior officers, show trials of suspected opponents and long-sustained ethnic favouritism have left many commanders deeply demoralised and dangerously suspicious of each other.
“There are many of us who have made our lives in the army because we were trained to believe that the military had something vital to offer to the nation,” said one senior Nigerian general. “This, however, does not include politics, and we have a bunch of officers who have come to think of themselves as permanent politicians. In behaving this way, they are dragging us all down.”
Some Nigerians are already arguing that Abubakar should be viewed merely as an interim appointment who lacks the power and credibility to hold competing interests at bay.
But although he may have been the compromise choice among competing factions within the army, Abubakar has influential backing outside the ruling military council.
He is a friend and ally of former military leader General Ibrahim Babangida. The two men come from the same town, Minna, and now have houses next door to each other.
Babangida kick-started Abubakar’s rise within the military hierarchy. In return, Nigeria’s new leader proved a loyal supporter of Babangida’s long and complicated transition programme toward civilian rule.
It oversaw the introduction of local and regional civilian governments in the early 1990s. But Babangida cancelled the presidential elections five years ago when he did not like the result.
After Babangida was manoeuvred out of office a few weeks before Abacha seized power in November 1993, he retreated to a form of internal exile. He was rarely seen, and never heard from on political matters.
But while other army officers swiftly distanced themselves from their former leader, Abubakar discreetly maintained their relationship. Last month, Babangida broke five years of silence to make an astonishing call for an end to military rule in Nigeria.
“Democracy emphasises government based on the consent of the people,” Babangida said in a speech. “Personalisation of state power, abuse of human rights, violation of the rule of law, failure to exhibit accountability and transparency, and the inability to meet the welfare and basic needs of the people are now seen as undemocratic and are also regarded as bad governance.”
Babangida was called in by Abacha’s security wing for “consultations” after the speech, and presumably given a warning. But Babangida may have been spurred into this unprecedented attack by a sense that Abacha’s days were numbered.
One of the many questions Abubakar has left unanswered is whether he shares his old ally’s new vision of the shortcomings of military rule. Or indeed if Babangida has played a hand in his elevation.
But what is certain is that if Nigeria’s latest military leader tries to introduce another lengthy transition to genuinely free elections, he will need to resort to Abacha’s heavy-handed tactics to stifle the protests.
The seven military dictatorships that have dominated Nigeria’s history since independence from Britain in 1960 have all put forth plans for a “transition to democracy”. Even if the current high command is able to maintain a reasonably united front and advance yet another, there is no sign that the country’s political class will meekly sit back and await the results.
Already there have been calls for the restoration of the presidential mandate of Moshood KO Abiola, the millionaire who is widely believed to have won the 1993 elections. Others, already suspecting the military has little intention of giving up power, have begun to warn of the possibility of spreading unrest.
Nigeria’s instability is causing serious worry. In Sierra Leone, Nigerian soldiers intervened recently to rout a guerrilla force that has been terrorising much of the countryside. People now fear that disorder in Nigeria would cause that country to lessen its commitment in Sierra Leone, allowing the rebels to make a comeback.
In other West African countries concerns about Nigeria’s instability have more to do with fears of a huge refugee outflow.
“If there is trouble in Nigeria, there is trouble for all of West Africa,” said one senior official from Ivory Coast. “A sinking Nigeria is big enough to swamp us all.”