Adamu Adamu
5 September 2008
column
Ya'u wanted to know what it was that I had against General Murtala Mohammed that I should condemn all that he had done out of hand.
Ya'u was the first: he was not the last. Many others had spoken to me, including an air force general who I greatly respect and who I wouldn't for any reason have wanted to be on the other side of any position he took.
"Adamu, don't you think a generalisation-any generalisation-is a dangerous thing?" he asked in that impeccable English of his that does military tradition pride.
Yes, indeed, General I knew generalization was not only dangerous, it was almost always wrong, which was worse than danger, whatever its type. And on the other hand, Ya'u should have known that not only did I not have anything against Murtala, I remember him with much fondness; and whenever I recalled his memory, I always experienced the outrage that I felt on that Friday morning in February 1976 as we trooped out of campus in revolutionary anger to express our disgust with what Lt. Col. Bukar Dimka did.
My response, even though only lamely half-hearted, was to ask them to write and disagree with me; but they said they wouldn't want to disagree with me in public, especially when I have accepted that I have over-generalised.
I have criticized Murtala now and on many previous occasions, even though he was and remained one of the true and authentic heroes of the Nigerian nation-state; but, it must be admitted, he was more of a hero in what he intended to do than in what he actually achieved, especially with regard to the reform he wanted to do in the civil service. But one great flaw ought to have been excusable; but, unfortunately, it was of such monumental consequences that could not be ignored.
Though there was much to condemn in the public service-declining productivity, incompetence, corruption, lack of accountability-the solution was not a measure that could be taken with immediate effect. The civil service had its own ways and traditions which must be respected and adhered to in running it or even in reforming it. Murtala didn't know that or didn't care.
In military gwale-gwale tradition, Murtala allowed humiliation as punishment. The famous mass purge and in particular the humiliation of the head of the Federal Public Service Commission, Alhaji Sule Katagum, and head of the judiciary, Dr. T. O. Elias, the chief justice of the Federation. That single act created uncertainty in the permanence of the service; it sacrificed merit on the altar of the spoils system and it invited corruption to set in and replace the transparency of the service.
Alhaji Sule Katagum represented an institution that even constitutionally was supposed to have been untouchable. At least it ought to not have been an institution that could be treated with such dismissive shabbiness.
Alhaji Sule, as they alleged, might have run the office of chairman with patrician autocracy; but he did so with integrity, with efficiency and with great effectiveness. He is a man with a mission and he ran the Federal service with almost missionary zeal; and would not tolerate incompetence or breach of procedure or abuse of due process. The service then owed all of its previous resilience to his leadership. And whatever one thought of Dr. Elias, it could never be denied that he represented the law-one of the arms of governance; and it would not just do that he could be removed as if there was no judicial service commission around. In any case, an arm of governance could not be twisted without governance itself being twisted, as it is today.
But in those days, bravado was the in-thing; and humiliation of the untouchable became a popular entertainment for the public. The nation applauded even though it was the future of its most important public institution that was being determined and jeopardized. This, however, was not apparent to the military leadership that was sincerely intent on reform and punishing those who had violated the law and the trust that had been put on their shoulders. But nobody would ever have held Murtala responsible for what went wrong, because no Nigerian ever doubted his sincerity and intentions. He was an original hero for every one except those who knew. He must have been a true hero who could inspire millions with his life and about whom his devotees still talked with passion; and who did throw an often fractious nation into an unprecedented unity in mourning. He was truly great, and exceptionally so, who could stand up to America, dare it and spite its overbearing attitude, publishing US President Gerald Ford's letter to him, along with his 'Africa Has Come of Age' response.
Murtala was an intrepid bundle of raw energy and manly courage bordering on, and often even surpassing, foolhardiness-an indomitable spirit. He appeared unafraid of any possible threats in life and he had that enviable quality of being able to tell off any human being who needed to be told off. And so when he came clean, he could then very easily clean up the national act.
At home, he exploded myths, he punctured taboos, he sacrificed sacred cows, he touched the untouchables; and even on the international scene, he cut the mighty down to size. He had no fear and he didn't give a damn about danger. A person of such description could not have been other than a darling and a hero to his people, especially if, like Murtala, he happened to be the leader.
And if he happened to have been a soldier, it became even doubly significant. The nation often forgets that when our soldiers decided to take up the military profession, they did so with full knowledge of all the other options open to them. Every soldier could have chosen to do some less dangerous work.
Our rank of retired generals today are men who could have opted to become the politicians, the administrators and the other officials who would send others to their death as they took all the glory. They could have become teachers who taught others the theory and strategy of war, instead of actually fighting it-and dying in the process.
Not just Murtala, it is indeed difficult to hate a soldier; for, it must be accepted that though all professions are important and perhaps equal, that which calls a person to death with honour; that which elevates a mortal to the rank of the defender of others; that which compels some to go to war while others go to sleep; that which asks one to lay down his life for others; that which calls for that most ultimate of sacrifices as a matter of fact, must somehow, even if only tangentially, be superior to other professions.
END NOTE - Though there are still many things to be said about surviving without oil, especially developing a detailed blueprint for it, the account needs to be discontinued in order to avoid column-reading fatigue. But while it lasted, I have received so many proposals from readers, and I would like to thank all of them.
Some have suggested developing the series of five articles into a booklet. With respect to this, I have in fact received three different offers of sponsorship to print such a booklet for country-wide distribution. Some, among them a person who cannot be disobeyed, have even urged me to compile all my articles into a book. In addition to this, some have seized the opportunity to renew their calls to me to compile Definitions in Humour. I hope I will be able to do so in the near future.
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