In Wariness of Nigeria’s Anti-Terrorism Legislation

The adoption of a legal framework to prevent and combat terrorism in Nigeria, though long coming, finally made its way into the priority list of this government following the 1 October 2010 bomb blast that nearly marred the 50th independence anniversary celebrations in Abuja. This incident redefined the face and expression of violence and conflict in Nigeria, giving it a ‘terrorism’ flavor. Barely three months after, other bomb scares across the country and actual bomb blasts in Jos on 24 December and Abuja on 31st December 2010 made the passage of an Anti-Terrorism legislation an absolute imperative.

To this end, President Goodluck Jonathan reportedly approached the National Assembly requesting it to expedite consideration on the Anti-Terrorism legislation. This request obviously yielded fast fruit as the Senate passed the bill into law on 17 February 2011. The House of Assembly is also midway into the third reading of the said bill. These developments bring Nigeria closer to joining the growing league of countries with legislative instruments for prosecuting the ‘War against terror’. In addition to responding to local terrorism situations, the passage of the legislation would facilitate Nigeria’s compliance with its international obligations under various Anti-terrorism instruments to which it is party. It would also meet the deadlines set by the Financial Action Task Force, an inter-governmental body that promotes national policies to fight terrorism financing.

However, as laudable as the proposed legislation is, and as even more impressive as the speed of its passage may be, there are certain concerns surrounding it that should be flagged and addressed. The first concern borders on the definition of terrorism in our Anti-Terrorism legislation. The challenge here is that in defining terrorism, definitions, like they say, are not always definitive. This explains perhaps why there is yet to be an internationally accepted definition of terrorism. Thus, unless due caution is exercised in couching the definition to avoid any broad interpretation, it could actually become a tool for suppressing human rights and political dissent. For example, the present legislation defines terrorism to include ‘acts which seriously destabilize or destroy fundamental structures of governance in order to coerce or influence government decisions’. This provision, if not subjected to judicial review, can become a basis for silencing opposition, demonstrations and public protests against offensive government policy. It can essentially be used to chain fundamental freedoms of association, movement, speech and expression.

Second, there is the question of whether our criminal justice system is credible enough and capable of ensuring the observance of fair trial procedures for persons accused of terrorism. As some jurisdictions in the world may have mistaken in practice, allegations of terrorism do not proscribe the presumption of innocence. They should also not negate the constitutionally guaranteed principles of fair trial.

Third is the issue of punishment. By prescribing death penalty for persons convicted of terrorism, the legislation has brought to the foreground again debates about the application of the death penalty in Nigeria. Like several other countries, Ghana’s anti-terrorism law prescribes for life imprisonment and Nigeria could do well to begin to move away from imposing the death penalty for offences. It has never served as an effective deterrent and probably never will.

Also, though the legislation does not necessarily contain a list of terrorist groups such as found in Anti-terrorism legislations in other African countries such as Uganda, it however empowers certain security agencies to advise the President to proscribe certain groups as terrorists. This would remain problematic and open to abuse by the executive unless a provision is made allowing for judicial review of such decisions to proscribe any group or individual.

Lastly, it is also worth noting what the Anti-terrorism legislation will NOT do for Nigerians. It will not address the underlying causes of most of the conflict we are experiencing across the country. It certainly would not seal up the deep social, economic, religious, ethnic, cultural and political divides and fault lines that run across the country. These are the root causes of terrorism and other violent expressions of conflict. They simply cannot be legislated away. The growing tide of terrorism in Nigeria is unarguably the by-product of internecine conflicts drawn from long political marginalization, social inequalities and deep poverty amidst plenty. It is merely adorned with a religious cloak as a camouflage to facilitate mobilization and justification.

While the passage and signing of the Anti-Terrorism legislation is commendable, particularly for providing a legal framework to combat terrorism, it is however, distant to the immediate yearnings of the average Nigeria. For example, about 13 criminal justice administration bills have been pending before the National Assembly since 1999. Each of these bills has the capacity to reform our police, courts and prisons. But after 11 years, none has been given enough attention to become law. Nigerians would also have certainly preferred such expeditious passage of laws that address issues of electoral fraud and abuse of political office. These are as damaging to the society as a terrorist’s bomb. So in the haste to pass an Anti-terrorism legislation, the government should be wary of fashioning an instrument that could have devastating efforts on human rights without impacting much on crime prevention and punishment.

People Policing People

Popular perceptions about policing and the police in Nigeria have always been steeped in misconceptions, distrust, apprehension and a sizable portion of dislike. The cliché ‘police is your friend’ remains a philosophy that largely exists only on dusty paper clippings hanging idly from sweat-stained walls in police stations but distant, in meaning and practice, from the general consciousness of the citizenry. The reason for this is not far-fetched and draws, perhaps, from the history of the Police Force in Nigeria.

When the concept of formal policing was first introduced during colonial times in what is today referred to as Nigeria, the Police was constituted to reflect the brutish master/servant relationship that characterised a colonial society. Built on the philosophy of ‘strangers policing strangers’, policing was then used as an instrument of oppression, subjugation and exploitation. Protecting and serving the people was nowhere near the core objectives of the colonial police. Post-colonial policing, also did very little to change this situation, particularly with the militarization of the police during the long, hard years of military rule in Nigeria.

However, with democracy came fresh hopes for change in many sectors of Nigeria, including the police and their delivery of policing services. In response to this, successive leaderships of the Police made several policy attempts at reforming the Police and bringing policing closer to the people. But recent reports show that some contemporary policing activities by the Nigeria Police alienate them from, rather than endear them to, the people they seek to serve. CLEEN Foundation, in its recent National Crime Victimization and Safety Survey, found that although there were marked reductions in crime rates, more than 50 percent of those who reported to the Police said they were dissatisfied with their service. In a 2010 report, titled Criminal Force, published by the Network on Police Reforms in Nigeria (NOPRIN) and the Open Society Justice Initiative, issues of extortion, extrajudicial killing, torture, abuse and rape were spotlighted as prevalent practices in the Nigeria Police.

However, the police are a reflection of the society it polices. It is therefore either as good or as bad as the society and we cannot divorce one from the other. The police is constituted of human resources drawn from the very fabric of the society in which it operates. Hence, faults in the social fabric will invariably show up in faulty patterns in its law enforcement mechanisms. Thus, while we criticize the police for their failings, we must not forget that they are a part of us. In the age-long African saying, they are because we are. This, nonetheless, does not diminish the responsibility of the police leadership to revive and strengthen its internal accountability mechanisms to ensure, amongst others, that complaints from the public about police misconduct and abusive practices are adequately addressed.

Every so often, we tend to neglect or consciously forget the harsh and inhuman conditions the Police themselves are condemned to operate under in maintaining law and order in our chaotic society. Very few people stop to give any attention to the plethora of problems facing the police: poor equipment and training, inadequate funding, meager remuneration, exposure to political manipulations and other socio-economic factors in Nigeria, along with lack of compensation for losses suffered. According to official reports, the Police Force lost about 630 officers in the past year. Nobody asks what happens to their loved ones. Unfortunately, policing in Nigeria is neither attractive nor competitive. Also, policing a population of nearly 150 million persons is surely an overwhelming and daunting task for the approximately 378,000 persons that presently constitute the Nigeria Police Force.

We must begin to realize that the demands of policing – which is the action or process of providing security and maintaining law and order - often extend beyond the constitutional institution called the Police Force. There are indeed various ‘informal’ yet effective policing arrangements ranging from small community-based watches to organised vigilante groups and private/commercial security setups. And though the Police Force is charged with the primary responsibility of policing, it does not exercise that function exclusive and independent of the people it polices. It is a given that the Police has its challenges, but some of these can be overcome with some help from civil society and the communities in which they operate. The Police leadership could, for example, hold periodic meetings with community leaders and select members of the communities in which they function to foster complementary relationships in policing by sharing their needs and developing effective strategies for maintaining local security. Ilupeju police station and policing services in that area would serve as a good illustration in this regard of what could happen, both for the people and the police, when there is police/community partnership. Another good example of the gains of partnership would be the forum organised by CLEEN Foundation, in collaboration with the Lagos branch of the Nigerian Medical Association and The Lagos State Police Command to iron out the differences between doctors and the Police in providing emergency treatment to victims of gun shot violence.

Until we give the Nigeria Police Force the dignity, both in resources and institutional support, it requires to function effectively, it would be unrealistic to expect adequate policing services delivery. While our fiery criticisms may result in slight motions towards attitudinal change in the Police, lasting change will only come when the people policed begin to partner with the people policing them. Until there is a paradigm shift towards police/people partnership in policing, we will continue to go the way of the biblical Cain who asked, ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ What we need is a people-oriented and a people-centered police. It behoves the leadership of the police to proactively move beyond numerical ‘point agenda’ and begin building mutually beneficial partnerships with civil society and the communities in which the police operates. This would be a sure step away from the colonial notions of ‘strangers policing strangers’ to a more civilized and effective approach of people policing people.