A Bad Democratic Government Is Still Better Than A “Good Military Government” -By Isaac Asabor

Since the return of democracy in 1999, Nigeria has witnessed a fragile yet consistent experiment with civil rule. Despite all its imperfections, democracy has remained the only system that allows the people, even if indirectly, to have a say in how they are governed. But recently, the word “coup”, a term that once haunted our political past, has begun to creep back into public discourse. From whispers in beer parlours to bold online commentaries, some Nigerians, disillusioned by the inefficiencies and corruption of our leaders, have started romanticizing military rule. This nostalgia for the gun over the ballot is both dangerous and misguided. No matter how bad a democratic government appears, it remains better, far better, than the so-called “good” military regime.

Let us face it: democracy in Nigeria has been messy, disappointing, and at times disheartening. Citizens are struggling with inflation, unemployment, insecurity, and worsening poverty. Many politicians appear more interested in personal enrichment than public service. Electoral promises vanish as soon as power is secured, and impunity seems to thrive. But despite all these, democracy still offers one thing the military never can, “hope.”

The first and most critical difference between democracy and military rule lies in legitimacy. In a democracy, even if the process is flawed, leaders derive their power from the people’s consent. Citizens have the right, however constrained, to vote, protest, and criticize their government. Under a military regime, power is seized by force, not granted by the people. Soldiers take over in the name of “national interest” or “rescue mission,” paradoxically; the people’s voice is silenced in the process.

It is ironic when some Nigerians claim that certain military regimes were “good.” They forget that the essence of good governance is not only about efficient administration but about “freedom, accountability, and participation.” The military, by its very structure, is authoritarian. Orders are given, not debated. Dissent is crushed, not tolerated. In contrast, democracy allows citizens to question power and to seek redress through institutions, no matter how weak those institutions may be.

Those who glorify military regimes often point to the discipline and order that characterized certain periods under the soldiers. They recall how coups were once justified by slogans like “ending corruption,” “restoring integrity,” or “rescuing the nation.” Yet, a closer look at Nigeria’s military history reveals that those promises always ended in deceit.

Let us take the record straight: corruption did not begin with democracy. It was, in fact, institutionalized during the military era. From 1966 to 1999, Nigeria spent the greater part of its post-independence years under military rule, years that saw gross mismanagement of resources, human rights abuses, and suppression of civil liberties. Military rulers suspended the constitution, dissolved elected institutions, and ruled by decrees. There was no separation of powers, no checks and balances, and no accountability.

The so-called “good” regimes, such as those of General Murtala Muhammed or General Buhari (in his first coming), are often praised for discipline. But even those governments were repressive. The media was muzzled, critics were jailed without trial, and citizens lived in fear. The War Against Indiscipline (WAI), for instance, was less about reforming the people and more about enforcing compliance through intimidation.

Let us not forget that coups are not about patriotism, they are about “power”. Every military takeover starts with promises to “save the nation” but ends in deeper chaos. Soldiers are trained to fight wars, not to manage economies or govern diverse populations. The barracks mindset cannot sustain democratic values or economic growth.

One of the most frustrating aspects of democracy is its slowness. Decisions take time. Bills go through committees, debates, and public scrutiny. Corruption scandals drag through lengthy investigations. Elections are contested in courts for months. For many Nigerians, this looks like weakness. But that slowness is actually democracy’s strength as it prevents rash, unilateral decisions that could harm the nation.

Under the military, a single decree could wipe out civil rights overnight. Under democracy, no matter how powerful a leader thinks he is, he must still contend with public opinion, the legislature, and the judiciary. These checks may not always function efficiently, but their existence is a safeguard against tyranny.

Democracy gives room for evolution and correction. A government that performs poorly today can be voted out tomorrow. Citizens can protest, criticize, and demand better. The military, on the other hand, offers no such mechanism. Once they seize power, you are stuck until another group of armed men decides to take over again. That endless cycle of coups and counter-coups is precisely what dragged Nigeria backward for decades.

We must not forget the human cost of military rule. Between 1966 and 1999, Nigeria experienced mass executions, extra-judicial killings, media clampdowns, and political assassinations. Decree No. 2 of 1984 allowed for indefinite detention without trial. Journalists were jailed for telling the truth. Activists disappeared without explanation. Students who protested were shot on campuses. These are not the hallmarks of a “good” government; they are the scars of oppression.

Compare that with democracy, where, even with all its failings, citizens can still speak, write, and protest without fear of being executed. The press can criticize leaders. Civil society can organize. The courts, though imperfect, can still offer justice. These freedoms may seem ordinary, but they are precious. Once lost to military boots, they are hard to reclaim.

Empirical evidence also shows that democratic societies tend to enjoy better and more sustainable economic growth. Investors trust democracies more than juntas because the rule of law provides stability. Property rights are respected, contracts are enforceable, and policies are more predictable. Military regimes, by contrast, are unstable and unpredictable, today’s ruler can be overthrown tomorrow, and all agreements nullified.

Nigeria’s worst economic periods coincided with military rule, especially during the late 1980s and early 1990s when corruption, debt, and mismanagement crippled the nation. It was only after 1999 that Nigeria began to rebuild institutions, privatize sectors, and rejoin the global economy. Yes, democracy has not delivered prosperity to all, but it has created an environment where progress is at least “possible”. Under the military, progress was impossible.

Those who now subtly welcome the idea of a coup because they are tired of political failures must realize what they are inviting. A coup is not a solution; it is the beginning of national uncertainty. Once you justify one coup, you open the door for endless coups. Tomorrow, another group of soldiers will overthrow the last, each claiming to be “correcting the mistakes” of the previous one.

In fact, one of the greatest tragedies of Africa is that many of its nations keep recycling military leaders in civilian clothes. Some ex-generals who once ruled by decree later rebranded themselves as “democrats.” That is why we must defend democracy at all costs, not because it is perfect, but because it is the only path that allows reform without bloodshed.

The truth is that democracy does not fail; people do. Institutions are only as strong as the citizens who uphold them. When the people become passive, corrupt, or indifferent, democracy weakens. When citizens participate, vote wisely, and hold leaders accountable, democracy flourishes.

Rather than yearning for military intervention, Nigerians should demand democratic reform, stronger institutions, electoral integrity, judicial independence, and civic education. We must deepen, not discard, democracy.

To say a bad democratic government is better than a good military government is not to excuse the failures of democracy, it is to recognize that even in its imperfection, democracy preserves the soul of a nation. It gives the people a voice, protects their dignity, and allows for change without violence.

The military, no matter how well-intentioned, represents the death of dialogue and the silencing of the citizen. History has shown that soldiers are poor substitutes for statesmen. Once the guns return to power, freedom takes flight.

So, let us never forget: democracy may wobble, but it walks forward; military rule may march, but it tramples. The difference is everything.