|By Franklin Ebuka
Something worries me about Anambra State—not because the state is not making gains in infrastructural development, and not necessarily because the government of the day is not performing. My concern is about the democratic credentials of the state and the growing tendency of government to interfere in institutions and structures that ought to exist independently of partisan politics.
The recent Igweship tussle in Nsugbe, Anambra East Local Government Area, is a case in point. The government may have won the immediate political battle after successfully installing a traditional ruler, but my worry is about what becomes of Nsugbe years from now. What happens to the unity of the town? What happens to the legitimacy of the institution? What happens to the people who feel excluded from the process? It is possible to win a political battle and still lose the peace.
The government, from all indications, appears to have exploited the loopholes around the court order stopping the election and tactically manoeuvred its way to the outcome it desired. But the bigger question is whether that was the best thing for Nsugbe.
I had expected the ministry of local government and Chieftaincy affairs to postpone the process, bring the opposing sides to the table, build consensus and restore confidence before allowing the people to return to the selection process. After all, what is the essence of government if not to ensure peace and order, protect rights, promote justice and pursue the common good? Government should be the referee when society is divided, not another player on the field.
History has shown that communities whose traditional institutions are perceived to have been imposed or heavily influenced by external forces often take years to heal. The wounds may not be visible immediately, but they can remain beneath the surface for generations. And Nsugbe is not an isolated example of this troubling pattern.
There is a broader phenomenon that deserves serious reflection: whenever government gets deeply involved in certain social and democratic structures, those structures often lose their independence, credibility and capacity to self-regulate.
Government touches traditional rulership, and suddenly what should be a respected cultural institution becomes WrestleMania.
Government gets involved in town unions, and communities that should be united around development become permanently divided along political lines.
Government interferes in youth organisations, and structures such as the National Youth Council of Nigeria become weakened and politicised.
Government gets into Students’ Union Government politics, and independent student representation is gradually neutralised.
Government gets involved in market unions, and associations that should primarily protect the interests of traders become paralysed by political interests. How many market unions in Anambra are in peace, not absolute peace, I mean relative peace?
Government begins to get involved in media, the consequence is a weakened institution that struggles to perform its constitutional role as the watchdog of society. The media becomes dumb, impotent and a toothless bulldog or better put as useless as a flaccid penis.
This is dangerous.
A democratic government does not become stronger by controlling every independent structure in society. It becomes stronger by allowing institutions to breathe.
There are certain spaces government should deliberately stay away from—not because government is irrelevant, but because society needs independent institutions capable of checking power, resolving their own internal disputes and representing the interests of their members without political interference.
Government should provide the legal framework, protect lives and property, enforce the law and intervene when rights are violated. But it should not turn every community institution into an extension of the ruling party or the government of the day.
The danger of excessive politicisation is that the damage often outlives the politicians who caused it. Governments come and go. Governors leave office. Political parties lose elections. Political appointees move on. But the divisions created in communities can remain for decades.
The people inherit the wounds of our political battles. This is why the issue should not be reduced to whether one political camp won the Nsugbe Igweship tussle or another lost. The bigger question is: what kind of society are we building?
The same question applies to our local government elections and other democratic processes. We seem to be gradually losing the distinction between legitimate government intervention and political control.
We have failed to learn that democracy is not simply about winning elections or controlling institutions. Democracy is also about restraint, tolerance, institutional independence, fairness and respect for processes—even when the outcome may not favour those in power.
Democracy abụghị e kwurekwu. Democracy is not merely about talking. It is about institutions. It is about allowing people and their organisations to make choices without undue interference. It is about accepting that not every institution must dance to the tune of government. It’s about accepting the people’s choices and aspirations even when they’re inconvenient.
Anambra may be making remarkable progress in infrastructure and development, but development should not be measured only in roads, bridges, buildings and projects. The health of a society is also measured by the strength of its institutions and the quality of its democracy.
Government must therefore learn the virtue of restraint. Government should provide the environment for these institutions to function—not capture them.
Because ultimately, the objective of politics should be to build a society that survives politicians, not one that survives only at the pleasure of politicians. We must stop winning political battles at the expense of social peace.
The consequences of what we do today in the name of politics may not be paid by us. Our children and grandchildren may inherit them.
And that is perhaps the greatest danger of unpatriotic politicisation.
