The focus of any discussion of Nigeria at this time in its history is the outlook for success of its recently reconstituted democratic political system. Equally in question should be the validity of external assessments of the Nigerian political situation, some of which in the past have tended, I believe, to rest on misunderstandings of Nigerian politics.

Following the collapse of many civilian and constitutional governments in postcolonial Africa, most political analysts and commentators drew a dismal conclusion. They decided that democratic representation based upon freedom of speech and association would be abandoned in Africa and they proclaimed the onset of an era of authoritarian rule. Some analysts, in the tradition of colonialist thought, asserted that cultural and social conditions in Africa are simply unsuited to the practice of liberal democracy.

In his opening address to the fifty members of the Constitution Drafting Committee (CDC) on 18 October, 1975, the head of Nigeria’s new military government, General Murtala Ramat Muhammed, declared: “It is important that we avoid a reopening of the deep splits which caused trauma in the country.” Those splits, as was made known to the outside world during the civil war, were ethnic, regional, and, to a lesser extent, religious in nature. Of these three modes of overt division, Nigerians have always been most successful in controlling the religious aspect. General Murtala’s statement is instructive on the problem of regional splits: “The fear of the predominance of one Region over another has . . . been removed to a large extent by the simple Constitutional Act of creating more States.” Four months later, following the assassination of Murtala, the successor regime of General Obasanjo declared the creation of seven more states, bringing the number up to nineteen from the twelve established by General Gowon in May 1967. While it is evident that the existence of “regions” has not been obliterated by their subdivision into states, this development has reduced the immediate political visibility and at least some of the salience of regional boundaries.

This essay attempts to summarize the Islamic aspect of political culture in Nigeria. It is not intended as an analysis of the recent elections in Nigeria whereby civilian governments were established to replace the military regime. Yet the emphasis on constitutional change, focuses on those aspects of Islamic culture in Nigeria which are likely to affect what ordinary citizens feel ought to be among the basic purposes of government. This essay is largely interpretative rather than empirical, and is based on a profound respect for many of the varieties of Islamic culture in Nigeria.

In assessing the outlook for the administration of justice under the second Nigerian Republic, one should consider in retrospect the political significance of courts and police, particularly as these agencies affect the work of political development and nation-building. Perhaps in deference to the myth of the apolitical judicial and legal process, little attention has been paid to the political impact of both courts and police, beyond the judicial-review powers of the higher courts or the use of the police as agents of terror.’ Comment on the more “ordinary” doings of police and courts is all too often an afterthought or is missing entirely.

Oil has become Nigeria’s engine of growth, replacing peasant agriculture. But the transmission system has its own peculiar rhythm. As managed by government, the oil revenues have produced an economic fluctuation comparable to the business cycle in the more developed capitalist economies. As in the classic business cycle, there appears to be at work a cyclical process which I call the Nigerian petro-political fluctuation, such that one economic fluctuation produces conditions which generate the next. This article will present the workings of the petro-political fluctuation during the years 1973-79.

In the decade since Nigeria ended its civil war. Southern Africa has become the paramount concern of Nigerian foreign policy. No other foreign-relations issue generates such a unified Nigerian response as does opposition to White supremacy in the Southern redoubt. At the same time, extraordinary wealth from petroleum exports has provided a new capability to influence developments in Southern Africa and, ultimately, the outcome of the confrontation between Black and White in South Africa. With its strategic impact on the economies of the United Kingdom and the United States, Lagos has demonstrated a willingness to use its leverage to attain policy goals in the region. The Nigerian government appears to be offering the West a choice. It expects the Western nations to be more attentive to Nigerian concerns and demands on African issues if they are not to face economic retaliation. During the past four years Lagos began to define this choice in its relations with Great Britain. A consideration of these relations would be instructive for the United States; the political and economic implications of this policy should be clear to London and Washington as they piece together parallel approaches to Southern Africa.

Throughout nearly twenty years of often tumultuous post-colonial history, Nigerian foreign policy has been surprisingly consistent. It may be too early to judge the capabilities and determination of the new civilian government of Alhaji Shehu Shagari, but if the past is any guide, the basic concerns of Nigerian foreign policy are not likely to change.

Future decisions will probably continue to reflect the pursuit of three vital and interrelated domestic objectives: to build greater national unity by overcoming deep regional, ethnic, and religious differences; to achieve rapid economic development for a nation that, despite great oil wealth, has a per-capita income of less than $400; and to complete the process of full self-determination which has yet to encompass all sectors of the modern economy. Among the three, the quest for national integration has been of paramount concern.