The South-East Question: Who Will Bell The Cat?

Political relevance is not secured by population, historical prominence or economic enterprise alone. It is earned through organisation, strategic alliances, effective negotiation and the capacity to convert collective strength into political influence.

Governor Hope Uzodimma deserves recognition for bringing this conversation to the forefront of South-East political discourse. His call for negotiation, unity of purpose and a more deliberate engagement with the Federal Government is significant, not merely because of what he said, but because of the political position from which he said it.

In a political environment where many serving governors appear more comfortable maintaining party conformity than confronting issues affecting their constituencies, Uzodimma’s willingness to speak openly about the region’s political disadvantages deserves acknowledgement. He is among the few serving governors within the ruling political establishment to have publicly confronted these concerns with such directness. That intervention has given him a place in an important chapter of contemporary Igbo political discourse. Posterity will judge the substance of his intervention and, more importantly, what follows from it.

Yet the governor’s intervention should not become another occasion for ceremonial applause. It should compel a more searching examination of the South-East’s political condition, including the uncomfortable truths within our own political establishment.

One of the most consequential observations attributed to Governor Uzodimma concerns Nigeria’s political evolution since amalgamation. He recalled the historical prominence of the Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba as the country’s three major ethnic and political constituencies, and questioned how the balance of national influence has evolved.

His observation raises a difficult question: How did a people who once occupied a recognised position among Nigeria’s principal political forces arrive at a point where they must repeatedly negotiate for the political recognition and opportunities they consider their due as equal stakeholders in the federation?

This question should not be interpreted as hostility towards Nigeria’s minority ethnic communities. Their constitutional rights, political participation and legitimate aspirations are no less important. The issue is whether the federal arrangement is delivering equitable inclusion and whether the South-East has developed the political organisation necessary to protect and advance its interests within that arrangement.

Political participation must mean considerably more than voting, party membership or the occasional appointment of an individual into public office. It should translate into meaningful representation, influence over national policy, access to federal opportunities, infrastructure, investment, security, economic development and a fair share of the dividends of democracy.

The South-East’s challenge, therefore, is twofold: to confront legitimate concerns about national inclusion while addressing the internal political deficiencies that have weakened its capacity to negotiate effectively.

We cannot continue to attribute every political disappointment to external forces without examining our own conduct.

The political history of Imo State provides a useful illustration of how elite rivalry, succession disputes and the desire to monopolise political authority can undermine collective progress. The experience of the Rochas Okorocha administration, particularly the controversies surrounding succession and the ensuing political divisions, demonstrates the consequences of treating political power as an exclusive possession rather than a public trust.

The problem extends beyond one administration or individual. Across the South-East, political competition has too frequently degenerated into personal hostility, factional warfare and the systematic exclusion of capable individuals. Leaders have sometimes regarded the influence of their contemporaries as a threat to be neutralised rather than an asset to be harnessed.

We demand inclusion from the federation while occasionally reproducing exclusion within our own political structures. We complain about marginalisation at the national level but tolerate political monopolisation at home. We speak of unity while making accommodation conditional on personal loyalty.

This contradiction is one of the most damaging features of our political culture.

No political establishment is populated exclusively by saints. Political relationships are often complicated by interests, ambitions and competing loyalties. The task of leadership is not to search endlessly for politically immaculate followers, but to build credible coalitions, manage differences and direct diverse capacities towards a common objective.

A leader who sees every independent-minded personality as a threat may preserve personal dominance for a season, but cannot build enduring regional influence. We must learn to distinguish genuine political disloyalty from constructive independence, and personal ambition from the legitimate contribution of capable equals.

The political history of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu offers instructive examples of coalition-building, strategic compromise and decisions in which he has said he placed a wider political objective above an immediate personal ambition. These episodes should not be romanticised as proof of political selflessness in every circumstance. They are, however, useful illustrations of how political influence can be cultivated through accommodation, alliance-building and an understanding of the long game.

First, his withdrawal from the 2007 Senate contest to concentrate on Babatunde Fashola’s governorship campaign. Tinubu has recounted that he had completed his INEC nomination form to contest for the Senate but reconsidered when he assessed the political challenge facing his party in Lagos. He subsequently withdrew his nomination and encouraged Ganiyu Solomon to pursue the Senate seat, allowing him to concentrate on Fashola’s campaign. Fashola went on to become governor. This episode, as Tinubu himself narrated it, illustrates a willingness to relinquish an individual electoral ambition in order to concentrate on the continuity of a broader political project.

Second, his decision to decline the vice-presidential position offered by Muhammadu Buhari in 2014. In a statement reported by TheCable on 17 December 2014, Tinubu confirmed that Buhari had offered him the running-mate position. He explained that, after considering the controversy surrounding a proposed Muslim-Muslim ticket and its implications for the party and the country, he concluded that he could serve the wider political objective more effectively as APC National Leader and a bridge-builder across political divides. He subsequently committed himself to the Buhari-Osinbajo ticket. Whatever interpretation one places on the political calculations behind that decision, the documented point is that he publicly relinquished the opportunity to occupy the position and chose to retain a coordinating role within the party. TheCable, 17 December 2014.

Third, his participation in the negotiations that produced the All Progressives Congress in 2013. The APC was not the product of one individual’s ambition. It emerged from the formal merger of the Action Congress of Nigeria, the Congress for Progressive Change and the All Nigeria Peoples Party, with other political alignments contributing to the wider opposition coalition. The merger required political actors with different regional bases, ideological traditions, personalities and presidential ambitions to negotiate a common platform. INEC formally approved the merger on 31 July 2013. INEC’s announcement of APC registration.

Tinubu’s support for Buhari’s presidential candidacy in 2015, rather than insisting on his own immediate presidential ambition, was another expression of that coalition strategy. It demonstrated the political value of recognising that a collective platform cannot be sustained if every influential participant insists on occupying its highest office.

Fourth, the cultivation of political succession and continuity in Lagos. Tinubu’s decision to support Fashola’s emergence in 2007 was not simply an electoral calculation; it also became part of a longer political succession arrangement. Fashola was followed by Akinwunmi Ambode and Babajide Sanwo-Olu, although the transitions were not without controversy or political disagreement. The broader point is that Lagos developed a degree of political continuity beyond the tenure of one governor. Carnegie Endowment’s study, Governing Lagos: Unlocking the Politics of Reform, examines how initiatives begun under Tinubu continued under Fashola, while also documenting the political compromises, patronage pressures and institutional challenges that accompanied that process. Carnegie Endowment, January 2015.

These examples do not establish that every decision was devoid of personal or strategic calculation. Politics rarely operates in such uncomplicated moral categories. Their relevance lies in a more practical lesson: political influence is not measured solely by the offices one occupies, but also by the alliances one builds, the capable people one accommodates, the compromises one makes and the institutions one helps sustain.

A leader does not become weaker by producing other strong leaders. He becomes more consequential when he can organise their strengths around a common vision.

This is a lesson the South-East must take seriously. We need leaders who understand that accommodating a political equal is not an act of surrender; that supporting another person’s legitimate ambition does not diminish one’s own legacy; and that sharing political space can strengthen, rather than weaken, collective bargaining power.

*The Succession Deficit: The Unfinished Test of Leadership*

One of the most persistent weaknesses in our regional political experience is the failure to institutionalise succession.

Too many administrations have been defined by the personality of the incumbent rather than by the durability of the institutions they establish. Political structures are weakened by succession battles, capable successors become adversaries, and the achievements of previous administrations are sometimes discarded because the incoming leadership wishes to establish a different political identity.

The greatest failure of leadership is not necessarily that a successor disagrees with a predecessor; it is that the predecessor leaves behind no credible institution, political culture or framework through which progress can be sustained.

A governor’s legacy should therefore be assessed not only by roads constructed, projects commissioned or political influence accumulated during office, but also by the quality of institutions established, the leaders developed and the continuity of public policy after departure.

The South-East requires a political culture that rewards institutional continuity rather than personal domination. Our governors, legislators, party leaders, traditional institutions, business community and civil society must establish a shared regional agenda that transcends party affiliation and individual tenure. Such an agenda should identify our priorities, articulate measurable demands and provide a credible mechanism for sustained engagement with the Federal Government.

Governor Uzodimma has helped identify an important problem. As the saying goes, a problem identified is halfway solved. But the remaining half requires political courage, institutional discipline and a willingness to abandon the habits that have repeatedly frustrated our collective aspirations.

The South-East needs a leader secure enough to accommodate his equals, discerning enough to recognise their strengths, magnanimous enough to share opportunities and visionary enough to build a succession beyond himself. We must stop confusing dominance with leadership and personal loyalty with collective commitment.

The African proverb reminds us: When the animals unite, even the lion goes hungry. Our strength will not come from producing one politically dominant individual, but from organising the collective capacities of our people into a coherent force.

I commend Governor Hope Uzodimma for initiating this conversation and confronting issues that deserve serious regional attention. But the time has come to move from declarations to demonstrable action. Negotiation must produce results; unity must be reflected in the sharing of responsibility and opportunity; and political collaboration must outlive individual ambitions.

The question before Ndigbo is no longer simply who will speak for the South-East. It is who will have the courage to bring its strongest political voices together, resist the temptation of monopolising power and build a regional political inheritance that survives individual leaders.

Stop being afraid of your equals. Embrace their strengths, share the political space and build a common future. The South-East does not need another temporary political champion; it needs a generation of leaders capable of building something that will outlive them.