RED HERRINGS AND POLITICAL DEFLECTION

ADEDAYO OLORUNTOBI contends that defending allies should not come at the expense of institutional credibility

Public debate in Nigeria often thrives on strong opinions, but it also demands intellectual honesty. Recent remarks by former Minister of Transportation Rotimi Amaechi in defence of embattled former Kaduna governor Nasir El-Rufai raise important questions about political responsibility, narrative framing, and the danger of deflecting from substantive issues. His intervention, widely circulated across social media, appears less a reasoned defence than a classic political red herring, diverting attention from serious allegations toward speculative claims and conspiratorial narratives.

At the heart of the controversy are allegations involving intercepted communications linked to the National Security Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu. El-Rufai himself made public remarks admitting surveillance activity of Ribadu, comments that have since attracted legal and political scrutiny. Rather than engaging the gravity of those statements, Amaechi’s defence pivots sharply toward claims of political vendetta, presidential ambitions, and alleged manipulation of opposition politics. The shift is arguably problematic.

The essence of a red herring in political discourse is distraction. When serious allegations arise, public figures are expected to address evidence, clarify positions, and engage with facts. Instead, Amaechi questioned whether El-Rufai even possessed the technical capacity for phone interception and suggested that the real issue might be Ribadu’s supposed political ambitions. This line of reasoning does little to clarify the original issue. Capacity is a technical matter for investigators and courts; speculation about future elections neither confirms nor disproves the allegations.

More troubling is the insinuation that the National Security Adviser is orchestrating political manoeuvres ahead of future elections, including alleged plans connected to President Bola Tinubu. Such claims, when unsupported by verifiable evidence, risk inflaming political tensions and undermining public trust in the nation’s leadership. Political competition is inevitable in any democracy, but casting security institutions as partisan actors without substantiation can weaken confidence in governance structures.

Amaechi’s defence also invokes the African Democratic Congress, portraying it as a potential victim of political engineering. While opposition parties must remain vigilant about fairness in democratic processes, sweeping claims of systemic sabotage require credible proof. Without such evidence, they can appear less like principled advocacy and more like pre-emptive political positioning.

There is a broader pattern worth noting. Nigerian politics has long featured cycles of accusations and counter-accusations, where substantive policy debate is often overshadowed by personality clashes and speculative intrigue. Amaechi’s comments fit squarely within that tradition of provocative, and also lacking in analytical depth necessary for serious national discourse.

Critics describe his defence as puerile not merely for its tone but for its logical structure. The argument appears to rest on two tenuous pillars: first, that El-Rufai lacked technical capacity for wrongdoing; second, that allegations against him are part of a grand political scheme. Neither assertion directly addresses the substance of the claims. Logical coherence demands evidence, not conjecture.

Furthermore, invoking hypothetical presidential ambitions for 2031 as a central explanatory factor seems particularly speculative. Nigerian political timelines are notoriously fluid; projecting intentions that far ahead without concrete evidence risks turning political analysis into conjectural storytelling. Such speculation may energise partisan audiences, but it does little to elevate public understanding.

Another dimension of this debate concerns political accountability. Public office holders, past and present, are expected to submit to scrutiny. That expectation is not persecution; it is a cornerstone of democratic governance. By framing scrutiny as vendetta without substantiating evidence, political actors risk normalising a culture where accountability is reflexively dismissed as political hostility.

This pattern has implications beyond the individuals involved. When high-profile politicians deflect serious allegations through counter-accusations, it encourages a political environment where truth becomes secondary to narrative control. Citizens are left navigating competing claims rather than clear facts, which can deepen cynicism about the political class as a whole.

The tone of Amaechi’s defence also raises questions about political strategy. Effective advocacy typically combines factual rebuttal with measured rhetoric. Highly charged accusations may mobilise supporters but can alienate neutral observers who seek clarity rather than confrontation. In this case, the combative posture arguably shifts attention away from El-Rufai’s need for a clear, evidence-based defence.

It is equally important to recognise that allegations alone do not constitute guilt. Legal processes exist precisely to determine facts impartially. However, acknowledging due process is different from dismissing allegations outright or constructing alternative narratives without evidence. Responsible political engagement requires distinguishing between defending due process and deflecting accountability.

Nigeria’s democracy, like many evolving democracies, faces ongoing challenges related to institutional trust. Security agencies, anti-corruption bodies, and political parties all operate under intense public scrutiny. When influential figures suggest, without substantiation, that these institutions are instruments of political conspiracy, the long-term cost can be erosion of public confidence.

There is also a lesson here about political loyalty. Loyalty among political allies is expected, but it need not translate into uncritical defence. Constructive loyalty sometimes involves urging caution, encouraging accountability, or allowing legal processes to unfold without inflammatory commentary. Blanket defence, especially when built on speculation, may ultimately harm both the individual defended and the defender’s credibility.

In the wider context of Nigerian politics, the episode underscores the importance of elevating discourse. Citizens increasingly demand transparency, evidence-based debate, and policy-focused engagement. Political rhetoric that leans heavily on insinuation rather than substantiation risks appearing outdated in an era of heightened public scrutiny.

Ultimately, the controversy surrounding Amaechi’s defence of El-Rufai highlights a recurring tension in democratic politics: the temptation to prioritise narrative advantage over factual clarity. While such strategies may yield short-term political mileage, they rarely strengthen democratic institutions or public trust.

For Nigeria’s political class, the challenge is clear. Defending allies should not come at the expense of logical coherence or institutional credibility. Allegations should be addressed directly, evidence should guide public commentary, and speculation should not substitute for substantiated argument.

 Oloruntobi writes from Abuja