In recent discourse, Nigerian figures Peter Obi and Dele Farotimi have offered contrasting perspectives on the legacy of former military president Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida (IBB). Their viewpoints, alongside scholarly analyses, provide a nuanced understanding of IBB’s impact on Nigeria’s socio-economic and political landscape.
Peter Obi: Reflecting on Socio-Economic Progress
Peter Obi, the Labour Party’s presidential candidate in the 2023 election, attended the launch of IBB’s autobiography, A Journey in Service. Following the event, Obi expressed concerns about Nigeria’s current socio-economic conditions compared to the Babangida era. He noted that nations such as Bangladesh, India, Vietnam, and Ghana, which were on par with Nigeria in the early 1990s, have since advanced to medium and high levels on the Human Development Index (HDI). In contrast, Nigeria has remained stagnant in the low HDI category. Obi’s assessment suggests that despite the challenges during IBB’s tenure, the country’s development trajectory has worsened over time.
Dele Farotimi: Critique of Political Legacies
Human rights activist Dele Farotimi offers a more critical perspective on IBB’s legacy, particularly focusing on political ramifications. He contends that Babangida’s annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election, which was widely regarded as free and fair, has had enduring negative effects on Nigeria’s democratic institutions. Farotimi argues that in a just society, individuals responsible for such significant disruptions to the democratic process would face legal consequences. Instead, he observes that Babangida continues to be celebrated in certain circles, a reality Farotimi believes undermines accountability and justice in the nation’s political sphere.
Scholarly Insights: Economic Reforms and Corruption
Scholarly analyses provide further context to Babangida’s administration, particularly concerning economic reforms and corruption. In 1986, Babangida introduced the Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) aiming to restructure Nigeria’s economy through deregulation and privatization. However, these reforms were marred by excessive government spending and rising corruption, which undermined their effectiveness. By 1990, the nominal policy reforms of the SAP were largely eclipsed by prodigal spending and rising corruption.
The privatization of state-owned enterprises, a key component of SAP, was intended to enhance efficiency and stimulate economic growth. Critics argue that the process was undermined by corruption, with assets often sold to individuals connected to the military regime at undervalued prices. Babangida himself acknowledged in his autobiography that the privatization process was flawed and susceptible to corrupt practices.
Furthermore, Babangida’s regime faced allegations of mismanaging significant oil revenues. Notably, his administration was accused of misappropriating a $12.4 billion windfall from the Gulf War oil revenues, funds that remain unaccounted for. Such controversies have significantly influenced public perception of his leadership and its long-term impact on Nigeria’s governance.
Under General Ibrahim Babangida’s administration, corruption deeply compromised Nigeria’s foreign exchange allocation system, leading to widespread financial instability and worsening socio-economic conditions. A key feature of this corruption was “round-tripping”, a practice in which politically connected individuals and businesses purchased foreign exchange at artificially low rates from the official government window and resold it at significantly higher prices on the parallel (black) market. This created a rent-seeking economy, where access to foreign exchange became a tool of patronage rather than an instrument for productive economic growth.
As Peter Lewis notes in his seminal work on Nigeria’s political economy, the dual exchange rate system facilitated by Babangida’s Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) not only encouraged speculation but also deterred genuine investment. The unpredictability of the exchange rate and the dominance of corrupt intermediaries made it difficult for legitimate businesses to secure foreign exchange for imports, expansion, or industrialization. As a result, many businesses either collapsed or relocated, leading to job losses and a contraction in productive economic activity. Foreign investors, wary of the systemic instability and opaque financial dealings, withdrew or avoided committing long-term capital to the country.
The consequences for ordinary Nigerians were devastating. The economic distortions weakened financial stability, eroded investor confidence, and deepened poverty as the benefits of foreign exchange access were concentrated among the politically connected elite. The artificially high prices of goods—driven by an unstable exchange rate and speculative hoarding—worsened inflation, making basic necessities unaffordable for large segments of the population. Additionally, the declining industrial and manufacturing sectors led to mass layoffs, exacerbating urban unemployment and fueling widespread social discontent. In effect, the corruption-ridden foreign exchange system under Babangida did not just weaken financial institutions—it systematically widened inequality and entrenched economic hardship for millions of Nigerians.
Reconciling the Perspectives: A Global Lens on Political Accountability
While both Obi and Farotimi critique aspects of Babangida’s tenure, their focal points differ. Obi underscores the comparative decline in Nigeria’s socio-economic standing since the IBB era, suggesting that the country’s development has stagnated relative to its peers. Farotimi, by contrast, directs his critique at the political implications of Babangida’s actions, particularly his role in subverting democracy and fostering a culture of impunity that persists in Nigeria’s governance.
However, Babangida’s post-presidency treatment raises a broader question: How do societies reckon with historical figures who undermine democracy, violate human rights, and preside over large-scale corruption? In other parts of the world, such leaders have often faced legal consequences, public disgrace, or historical condemnation. For instance, Chile’s Augusto Pinochet, despite his military rule and economic policies, spent his final years under house arrest as legal proceedings attempted to hold him accountable for human rights abuses. Similarly, Peru’s Alberto Fujimori was sentenced to 25 years in prison for corruption and crimes against humanity.
In contrast, Nigeria’s political culture has allowed figures like Babangida to maintain influence and even be celebrated in some quarters. Unlike other nations where transitional justice mechanisms, truth commissions, and legal actions have been pursued to confront the legacy of past regimes, Nigeria’s failure to hold former military rulers accountable has reinforced a cycle of impunity. This has significant implications for governance, as it discourages accountability and enables corruption to persist at the highest levels of power.
Thus, the contrasting perspectives of Obi and Farotimi, when placed in a global context, highlight the unique challenge Nigeria faces in addressing historical injustices. Beyond economic decline or political reckoning, Babangida’s legacy exemplifies the broader struggle to institutionalize justice and uphold democratic values in a country where past rulers are rarely held to account.