Governance, National Ethos And Succession Planning -By Abiodun KOMOLAFE

The key failure of the post-colonial state in Africa – transcending both ideology and individual personality – is a refusal to grasp the importance of succession planning. This failure haunts every sector, from politics to the economy, to the very way our society is held together. Without a plan for the future, there is no map and no compass, and we are steering the ship of state blind, which results in a hapless situation where no one on board knows where we are going, or why we are even on the journey.

This is why the continent is poorer today than it was at the dawn of independence in the late 1950s and 1960s. It has been largely all motion and no movement – unlike India, Malaysia and Indonesia, not to mention, of course, countries such as Brazil. Without succession planning, the framework of orderly progression through unwritten conventions and consensus cannot be achieved. The most enduring thing about democracies that work is the evolution of what might be described as a National Democratic Agreement.

National Democratic Agreements are unwritten rules, accepted across the political spectrum, about key parameters upon which a state is bedrocked. Most tellingly, in the United Kingdom, a consensus – germinated in the mid-1930s and crystallized post-war – established the welfare state and social housing as indispensable stabilizers of democracy. Despite occasional frictions, this shared commitment has birthed an admirable and stable polity, with strong institutions maintained through successive governments across party lines and ideologies.

In Germany, the tripartite system of the government, the private sector and the trade unions, working in an interwoven relationship, has led to the creation of a very solid democracy. The same thing applies to the Scandinavian countries, where the same formula has yielded highly commendable socioeconomic systems. Africa has not done this, and this has led to appalling results and more people trapped in poverty and hopelessness than anyone could have envisaged fifty years ago.

Succession planning begins with an overall agreement on the nature and nomenclature of the state itself. Impliedly, there must be a general agreement on the goals that the state is trying to achieve over a ten, fifteen, or twenty-year period. Such an agreement is binding on successive governments of different political hues as they come and go. Governments, of course, will choose areas of priority and focus, but the general agreement remains the key focus and the engine room of decisions. Succession planning also involves the consensus to develop a consistent cadre of proven quality and promise to implement national plans, goals, and objectives. Without these, the plans will flounder due to the absence of managerial capacity.

A certain type of intellectual preparation and the development of managerial capacity is very much needed to prepare and implement for twenty years ahead, or more. Very good examples are, of course, India and China. The ‘Mandarin’ public service system has been highly effective and admired through centuries, and has always saved China from all manners of disasters and is currently propelling it as a key economic player. Indeed, the civil service expansions under the President of the United States of America, Theodore Roosevelt, in 1905, were influenced by a long-standing admiration for the model from China.

In the British administrative tradition, the philosophy of rationalizing the machinery of government – later codified in the landmark Haldane Report of 1918 – already found practical expression in the colonies years earlier. This logic was instrumental in the administrative design of Nigeria; it led to the strategic recommendation to rationalize British public finance by merging the Northern Territories and the Southern Protectorates into a single entity. This fiscal and political integration was eventually consummated in the Amalgamation of 1914, setting the stage for a century of shared destiny.

India is also a very good example of developing a state through succession planning, in spite of its often rancorous and occasionally violent political interactions. Every year, over 1,000,000 Indians begin the first step of trying to enter the Union (they do not use the word, federal) civil service. The 1,000,000 is eventually whittled down to 14,000. With great rigour, the 14,000 now becomes 800 to 1,000 admitted to key managerial grades in the central civil service. The process is probably the most demanding selection process in world history – and it has delivered.

In point of fact, India has shown that you cannot plan for the future without a succession plan based strictly on merit – attracting and retaining the best and the brightest of succeeding generations who will then deliver the future. This is the key ingredient in any interpretation of succession planning. It has, of course, worked. India today is the world’s sixth largest economy and, unless something goes terribly wrong, would become the second or third largest economy based on output by the Year of the Lord 2050. From where India was fifty or so years ago, this is an astonishing feat. What it reveals is the dominant importance of succession planning.

The Bola Tinubu government must reverse the mentality of the rentier state and focus on outlining a national ethos which would then become the dominant hegemony of the Nigerian state long after it has exited power. To do this, a cadre inculcated with values on the accepted lines must be developed – not just for the public service, but also at the party level. Any interrogation of succession planning in a functioning democracy cannot overlook the way in which political parties recruit and mould the very young, including early teenagers, into the philosophy of the parties.

There are youth camps organized by the youth and student wings of the political parties during the long summer vacation to inculcate the political philosophy of the parties. Party bigwigs address youth as young as fourteen upwards on key elements such as the separation of powers and rudimentary explanations of why a country, for example, has what is known as a budget.

It is very much like Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala explaining to a youth congress, in terms they can understand, what being the Minister of Finance entails, or Babatunde Raji Fashola outlining the difference between the job of a State Governor and that of a Federal Minister. A former Local Government chairman can also come to explain what the functions of a local government consist of. This is the sort of succession planning that ensures the development of a national ethos and the development of succeeding generations; it also guarantees the stability of the state.

A very well-noted example is that of a former British Prime Minister, Gordon Brown, who joined the Labour Party in his mid-teens and eventually became the youngest-ever student rector at the University of Edinburgh. Starting at thirteen with protest marches and camp meetings, Mhairi Black also traded grassroots activism for a seat in Westminster. As the youngest Member of Parliament (MP) in centuries, the Scottish National Party (SNP) firebrand shook the establishment with blistering viral speeches before quitting the “toxic” system in 2024 to bring her political message to the Edinburgh Fringe stage.

There are many examples of people like them, spread across all the major and minor political parties throughout the major democracies. This is a very important foundation for any succession planning and the development of the democratic state. What this means is that the future is being developed by inculcating young minds at a very early formative period. It also means that what we call political parties in Nigeria must evolve out of the mode of special purpose vehicles into real political parties, driven by a discernible philosophical framework or ideology, if you like.

The private sector has something to give here to the political establishment. The best companies endure and continue to perform because of careful succession planning. A very good example is Procter & Gamble (P&G), which sadly exited Nigeria a few years ago. The company is one of the biggest and most successful in the world. Its very commendable operating base is that the company “promotes strictly from within.”

P&G will not hire a genius to fill a strict strategic opening in its organization. This would indicate a failure of succession planning. In over two centuries, the company has done extremely well, and the Nigerian political economy should look at this very enduring model to use in all areas of endeavour.

Succession planning must determine and propel the political economy and must be a key element in establishing the hegemonic base of the state. All the states that have been successful over the past eighty years have used this framework and Nigeria must not carry out the futile and self-destructive proposition that it can swim against the tide.

Let’s be clear: the “Pact” with the people is a debt, not a favour. But look at how we handle succession in Nigeria. It’s usually a desperate scramble for survival, not succession. Leaders pick successors to “cover” their tracks, not to carry a vision. In sane climes, leadership is a relay race – and frankly, nobody cares how fast you ran your lap if you leave the baton lying in the dirt. Your success isn’t about the buildings you put up, it’s about the person you hand the keys to. Therefore, a successor should build on the foundation, not spend two years digging up the floorboards to settle old scores.

Ekiti State Governor Biodun Abayomi Oyebanji deserves credit for his choice of ‘Building Legacies: Governance, Successor-generation and Continuity’ for his April 14 discourse at the Afe Babalola University, Ado-Ekiti (ABUAD). The lecture, full of penetrating insights, should mark the beginning of a reinvigoration of the much-needed path to Nigeria becoming, once again, a competitive political economy. Discourses matter; unfortunately, they have been relegated or even suppressed in the quest for temporary advantage.

There is a poignant reminder of the dangers of temporary convenience coming out of the momentous announcement, last week, by the United Arab Emirates (UAE) – much like Angola did two years ago, and Qatar before it – that it would be quitting the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC). This announcement means that Nigeria must now make far-reaching, hard decisions about its continued membership in the cartel, and whether remaining within it still serves the national interest.

What is of importance here is that, as far back as 1978, Chief Obafemi Awolowo kicked up a storm when he raised the issue on the campaign trail in the buildup to the 1979 presidential election. Absurdly, those incapable of thinking beyond tomorrow imputed religious undertones to Awolowo’s desire to examine the context and desirability of Nigeria’s continued participation in the oil cartel.

The same people’s emotional and intellectual inadequacy is now exposed with the UAE’s exit from the cartel. Can one impute religious undertones or motives to the UAE’s exit? Certainly not! The exit rests on hard economic calculation – exactly what Awolowo wanted, and correctly so. Had there been a serious debate in 1978, who knows what policy prescriptions beneficial to the nation would have come out of it? But, again, this is Nigeria!

1978 should be instructive, and Oyebanji is echoing the sage by presenting a profound discourse as a contribution to highlighting policy prescriptions for the immediate future. As the great Canadian philosopher, Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980) famously posited: “The medium is the message.” By choosing ABUAD for this dialogue, BAO, as Oyebanji is fondly known – chose a more-than-appropriate medium.

The inception of ABUAD in 2009 is important; and it is not surprising that, in such a short time, it has built up what will be an enduring international reputation for integrity and very high intellectual standards. What links BAO and ABUAD is the current, very urgent evolution of the centuries-old definition of ‘The Idea of a University.’

Cutting-edge institutions such as ABUAD now realize that the idea of a contemporary university must realign with the evolution of a better, more humane, and equitable society. Today’s university must link the unstoppable advancement of new technologies with the quest to elevate human capacity, leading to greater self-fulfillment. The focus of ABUAD is clearly predicated on this, and since it is one of the few institutions leading this redefinition, it must be lauded. This is why BAO was correct to have chosen the university as the medium for the message.

It must be spelt out in data and flashed up to match the giant strides being made by institutions such as ABUAD. Oyebanji must revamp the curriculum of the institutions under him so that they can become a feeder for ABUAD and others. For example, in today’s world, it would be absurd if coding in a state like Ekiti, renowned for its quest for knowledge, does not start from Primary One. This should be the first necessary step in an overall revamp; otherwise, the entire educational curriculum risks becoming irrelevant, if not redundant.

It is inconceivable that ABUAD would, in ten years’ time, be enrolling students who have not been equipped in their formative years to be robustly competitive and vigorously prepared; indeed, the institution is already doing so now. Since ABUAD itself has limited capacity, it is imperative that the tertiary institutions under the suzerainty of the state government be brought up to speed to match, if not surpass, these standards. Only through such an evolution can the state breathe free from the “accidental leader” syndrome that has long stifled our progress.

Properly considered, there cannot be leadership of an accidental nature if a process stretching back to the youthful formative years is in place to nurture a leadership based on preparation and mentoring – both of the visible and overall community-standards type. The absence of such a process, unlike in India, Malaysia, Singapore and the UAE – nations that have learned to absorb their tragedy and transform it into vision – manifests itself in Nigeria’s pathetic underperformance.

To build legacies, as Oyebanji clearly desires, must be based on a framework for enduring continuity. This is very much like feeding a factory process through well-chosen raw materials. If, for example, we want to manufacture chocolates, the process begins with the quality of the beans that the farmer harvests from his cocoa trees. The wrong raw materials will lead to the erosion of quality and irreversible damage to the reputation of the brand. Only carefully constructed succession planning can lead to endurance.

Awolowo may be gone, but it will be ill-advised for politicians, especially in the Southwest, to repudiate his overriding ethos – even if you hate him – and expect to win an election. In contemporary terms, a governor such as Oyebanji, who has made a robust start and is about to consolidate it in his expected second term, should now put succession planning at the heart of his endeavours, if he has not started to do so already, for this is the only way he can make his successes endure.

The last kilometre is always the hardest! Succession planning is not about installing a successor or anointing a candidate. Rather, it is about entrenching an overall plan – the acceptance of a programme as the propelling force – so that long after the storyline of his personal tenure has ended, the BAO spirit will still be driving Ekiti State to greater heights.

May the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, grant us peace in Nigeria!

Email: ijebujesa@yahoo.co.uk
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