APC, Opposition Crises and Gathering Storm for Democracy
Iyobosa Uwugiaren argues that the belief that the All Progressives Congress is fostering crises within opposition parties may remain contested; but its implications are not, adding that a democracy without opposition is not strength—it is a slow drift toward violent unrest.
A terrifying narrative is gaining ground in Nigeria’s political space: that President Bola Tinubu and the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) are not simply benefiting from the internal crises of opposition parties, but actively encouraging them—creating instability to make the APC the only feasible political home for aspiring politicians, including sitting governors.
But the President has consistently denies the allegation. Again, speaking at the national convention of the APC in Abuja on Friday night, the president said democracy can only thrive where there is healthy political competition.
“Let us say this clearly and sincerely. We are here for national unity and greatness. We are not going to look back. Critics can say it anyway they want,” he said.
Whether this assertion is empirically verifiable or not, its persistence—and increasing acceptance—poses serious questions for Nigeria’s security architecture and the nation’s democratic future.
In fact, political observers and opposition leaders, including a former Labour Party Presidential candidate, Peter Obi; former Vice-President of Nigeria, Atiku Abubakar and others, have consistently echoed this concern in the last few days.
At the heart of this worry is not just what is true, but what is believed. To be sure, in politics, perception often shapes reality. And the perception that the ruling party is undermining opposition cohesion strikes at the core of democratic legitimacy.
Across the opposition gamut—from the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) to the Labour Party (LP) and the African Democratic Congress (ADC)—internal divisions have become major features. Leadership tussles, factional congresses, and high-profile defections have left these parties ruptured and electorally weakened. In contrast, the ruling APC appears increasingly consolidated, absorbing defectors and expanding its reach.
The question, therefore, is obvious: is the ruling party simply taking advantage of the dysfunction of its rivals, or is it subtly engineering it? Even if one assumes the former, the consequences of the current trajectory are profoundly concerning.
Like many political experts have argued, a democracy without a strong opposition is a ‘’democracy at risk’’. Opposition parties are not ornamental or decorative; they are essential. They provide alternative visions, scrutinize government actions, and serve as a safety control device for dissent. When they are weakened—whether through self-inflicted wounds or external manipulation—the entire system leans dangerously toward dominance by a single political force. And, this has direct implications for national security.
In a country as multifaceted and diverse as Nigeria, political exclusion can swiftly transform into social conflict. When large sections of the population feel unrepresented or believe that the political process is skewed against them, frustration builds. That frustration, if left unchecked, can spill into the streets.
Recent history offers sobering lessons. Political grievances have often underpinned protests and, in some cases, violent unrest. In recent years, we witnessed how political grievances–especially around exclusion, corruption, repression or disputed elections have repeatedly triggered violent unrest across different countries like Syria, Libya, Sudan, Venezuela, Myanmar, Ethiopia – to name just a few.
If opposition supporters begin to see elections as prearranged or manipulated, their faith in democratic channels will erode. And when democratic avenues close, non-democratic alternatives—however dangerous—begin to look very attractive.
Equally troubling is the potential politicisation of security institutions. If the perception takes root that crises within opposition parties are being orchestrated or misused with the tacit support of state actors, then institutions such as the police and intelligence services risk losing their credibility. Selective intervention in party disputes, or perceived bias in handling political violence, can deepen mistrust and weaken the state’s ability to maintain order.
Nigeria is already contending with numerous security challenges—insurgency/terrorism in the Northeast, banditry in the Northwest, and communal conflicts in various regions. The last thing it needs is an additional layer of politically induced instability.
Beyond security, the democratic implications are even more profound. Nigeria’s most celebrated democratic momentous remains the peaceful transfer of power in 2015, when President Goodluck Jonathan-led incumbent government was voted out. That moment, which brought the APC to power, demonstrated that the ballot could indeed be stronger than incumbency.
But that legacy instituted by Jonathan is now under serious threat. If opposition parties continue to fragment while the ruling party grows stronger—whether by design or default—the country risks sliding into a de facto one-party system. Elections may still hold, but their competitiveness will be excavated. This is the essence of democratic backsliding: not the abrupt end of democracy, but its gradual erosion.
In such a system, accountability suffers. Legislatures become less effective as oversight bodies – as currently being witnessed under Senator Godswill Akpabio-led National Assembly. Policy debates lose depth. Governance becomes insulated from criticism. And corruption, often thriving in environments with weak scrutiny, finds productive ground.
Perhaps more damaging is the erosion of political ideology. Frequent defections—often driven by convenience rather than conviction—have reduced party affiliation in Nigeria to little more than a vehicle for power. When politicians can move without a glitch from opposition to ruling party – without clear ideological shifts, it reinforces public distrust.
For many Nigerian voters, the message is disheartening: that politics is not about ideas or service, but about access and survival. This perception discourages civic participation and weakens democratic culture.
It must also be said that the opposition, like the PDP, bears significant responsibility for its current predicament. Many of its crises are self-inflicted. Weak internal democracy, imposition of candidates, and personality-driven leadership have long undermined party cohesion. In some cases, what is described as external interference may simply be the exploitation of pre-existing fractures.
Yet, even this does not absolve the ruling APC of responsibility. In a maturing democracy, those in power have a duty—not just to win elections—but to uphold the integrity of the system. Political dominance achieved at the expense of credible competition is in the long run self-defeating. Strong democracies are built not on the weakness of the opposition, but on the strength of institutions.
This is where bodies like the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) become crucial. Electoral integrity must be beyond reproach. Similarly, the judiciary must remain an impartial arbiter, especially in intra-party disputes that often end up in court. Security agencies, too, must resist any perception of partisanship.
Nigeria’s democratic health also carries regional significance. In a West African sub-region that has witnessed a resurgence of military coups, Nigeria’s stability is a critical anchor. Any signs of democratic erosion in Africa’s largest democracy send worrying signals beyond its borders.
The path forward requires both self-examination and restraint. Opposition parties must reform or risk irrelevance. They need to build internal cohesion, embrace transparency, and articulate clear policy alternatives that resonate with citizens. A fragmented opposition cannot hold anyone accountable.
At the same time, the ruling APC must recognize that a weakened opposition is not a sustainable foundation for governance. Legitimacy comes not just from winning elections, but from winning them in a system perceived as fair and competitive.
Ultimately, the responsibility rests with Nigerians themselves. Democracy is not self-sustaining; it requires vigilance. Citizens must demand accountability from all political actors, resist narratives that normalize democratic erosion, and insist on a level playing field.
The belief that the APC is fostering crises within opposition parties may remain contested. But its implications are not. In the delicate balance between power and principle, Nigeria must choose carefully.
A democracy without opposition is not strength—it is a slow drift toward violent unrest.
