ARTICLE AD BOX
Democracy can fade not only through force or decree but also quietly, under the guise of legality, procedure, and familiar political rhetoric. The constitution may remain unchanged, party offices may stay open, primaries may be announced, and delegates may convene. Leaders may speak of unity, yet the essence of democracy could already be compromised. This phenomenon is currently evident in Nigeria’s party politics, with Rivers State presenting a particularly concerning example.
Central to this issue is the distortion of the concept of consensus. When consensus is achieved through open consultation and honest negotiation, it is not inherently undemocratic. A party can persuade aspirants to step aside for a common purpose, reducing bitterness and strengthening cohesion. However, consensus becomes deceptive when it is imposed from above, when aspirants are coerced into withdrawing, when delegates are treated as hired hands, and when party members are invited only to applaud decisions already made elsewhere.
Consensus without consent equates to submission, not unity. It represents elite capture disguised as democratic practice.
Democracy is shaped before the general election. By the time voters reach the polling station, the decisive question may already have been answered: who will appear on the ballot? If governors, godfathers, party financiers, and national power brokers decide candidates through private agreements, voters are not choosing from a genuinely democratic field but from options prearranged by those who control the political machinery.
Rivers State is not an ordinary case. Its economic significance, electoral importance, and symbolic weight mean that what happens there reverberates beyond Port Harcourt. When candidate selection in such a state is driven more by elite negotiation than by party members, it sends a dangerous message nationwide: membership does not guarantee a voice; loyalty to patrons may outweigh loyalty to principle; and political ambition without elite endorsement is nearly futile.
This internal hollowing of democracy allows elections to proceed while meaningful choice disappears. Parties may exist, but they become vehicles for private settlements. Primaries may be held, yet their outcomes may be predetermined before votes are cast. The language remains democratic, but the practice becomes feudal. Citizens become spectators; party members become props; aspirants become dependent on patronage rather than persuasion.
The consequence extends beyond political unfairness to poor governance. A candidate imposed through elite arrangements often enters office with debts owed primarily to the patrons who installed him. His first loyalty is usually to those who enabled his rise, turning public office into a platform for repayment. Appointments, contracts, access, protection, and silence become the currency of political settlement. Citizens later question why leaders seem distant from their needs, and the answer often lies in how those leaders emerged.
Proponents of imposed consensus argue that open primaries are chaotic, expensive, and divisive, citing vote‑buying, intimidation, litigation, and factional conflict. These concerns are valid. However, abandoning democratic choice is not the solution to a flawed process. If primaries are corrupt, reform them. If delegates are compromised, increase transparency. If disputes persist, strengthen internal party institutions. Eliminating competition because it is messy conflates control with legitimacy.
False unity is not stability; it merely postpones conflict. Those denied a voice may smile publicly, but grievance does not disappear. It returns as sabotage, apathy, defections, court cases, and distrust. A fair contest may wound egos, but it gives losers a reason to accept defeat. An imposed candidate gives the excluded a reason to seek revenge. Politically manufactured peace is usually temporary; legitimacy earned through participation endures longer.
The cultural danger is greater. When party members learn that outcomes are decided by an inner circle, politics loses its democratic essence. People stop asking who has the best ideas and start asking who has been anointed. They stop organizing around programs and begin clustering around patrons. Conviction becomes risky. Independence becomes punishable. Silence becomes strategic. Over time, democracy becomes a performance: loud rallies, colorful posters, scripted endorsements, and empty participation.
Nigeria must stop treating candidate selection as a private affair of political parties. Parties are not ordinary clubs; they are gatekeepers of public leadership. Their internal processes shape the quality of governors, lawmakers, presidents, and councillors. When parties fail internally, the nation suffers externally. A democracy that tolerates dictatorship within parties cannot produce accountability in government.
The test is simple. Were aspirants free to contest or withdraw? Were members genuinely consulted? Was dissent permitted? Was the process transparent? Were delegates respected as decision‑makers or managed as instruments? Where the answer is no, consensus becomes a lie.
A civilian coup does not always suspend the constitution. Sometimes it operates through party secretariats, governors’ lodges, hotel rooms, and private homes. It preserves the rituals of democracy but strips away its essence. That is the tragedy of elite capture. It does not merely weaken democracy; it normalizes democracy without choice, unity without consent, and leadership without legitimacy.
When power circulates only among the initiated, democracy is no longer alive. It has simply been embalmed for public display.
•Dr Peterside is the author of “Leading in a Storm” and “Beneath the Surface”.
The post Elite capture and death of democracy, by Dakuku Peterside appeared first on Vanguard News.

1 month ago
11
















English (US) ·