INTRODUCTION
The countries of sub-Saharan Africa are under increasing international pressure to adopt democratic policing styles, priorities and structures. Police reform is seen as a major element not only in democratisation programmes, but also in conflict prevention and poverty reduction strategies. The consequent transfer of funding, resources and technical expertise by agencies such as USAID and member states of the European Union has in turn internationalised many aspects of police practice, organisation and vocabulary (Andreas & Nadelman Reference Andreas and Nadelmann.2006).
The language and organisational features of community-oriented policing have proved particularly popular amongst donors and recipients. Policing partnerships and fora for the civilian oversight of policing are now as common in Ethiopia as in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Ghana, Mozambique or South Africa. Even Zimbabwe promotes community policing. At the same time, most police in most African countries are fundamentally unchanged from what they were ten years ago. Most remain politicised, under-resourced and inadequately trained.
This trend is particularly marked in Nigeria, West Africa's oil-rich hegemon and Africa's most populous country. Since the country's independence from the UK in 1960, Nigeria's police have received the equivalent of millions of UK pounds and US dollars in technical assistance, training programmes and support in kind. The UK's current ‘Access to Justice Programme’, for example, is a seven-year sector-wide programme with a budget of £37 million. Yet the Nigeria Police (NP) is widely regarded as one of the most corrupt institutions in a society that is internationally notorious for high levels of unpredictable violence, corruption, prebendalism, and ethnic and religious sectarianism.
That a public police should resist change is unexceptional, but developments in the NP since early 2005, when President Olusegun Obasanjo sacked his then inspector general of police (IG), Tafa Balogun, deserve examination, because they reiterate the long-standing question of why Africa's police find it so difficult to adopt the norms and practices associated with democratic-style policing. Further, they rephrase the debate concerning the efficacy of police reform projects in the South. They indict the misleading assumptions on which most international reform policies are predicated.
The point of departure for most analyses of police reform is that democratic-style reform is not only desirable in itself, but also that it follows a clear causal (effectively linear) progression (DfID 2005; OECD 2005). For example, projects advocating police service commissions, workshops on human rights training and community–police partnerships are generally thought to be prerequisites for accountable forms of policing. Yet this assertion is rarely subject to critical examination, and, to paraphrase Carothers' (Reference Carothers2006: 27) assessment of the related field of rule-of-law assistance, police reform programmes operate from a worryingly thin base of knowledge. Furthermore, accumulating knowledge on the topic faces serious obstacles that range from the institutional shortcomings of donors, and the sensitivity of the topic, to deeper intellectual challenges about police culture, and the nature and purpose of police institutions in the South.
Given this situation, it is only too easy to regard the development of yet more reform programmes for Nigeria as little more than the triumph of hope over reality. Yet understanding the dynamics of reform matters, because even small changes can mitigate the treatment or injuries a detainee receives, or the intimidation a policeman is subject to by his superior. The question therefore arises as to whether police reform in a (relatively) stable and democratic political environment can make a difference, even when the police continue to be politicised and corrupt. I suggest that it can, but that such reform tends to be superficial, localised and temporary in nature and effect.
How then should police reform be analysed? I contend that it needs to be interpreted dynamically, rather than statically. As this implies, I argue that reform is a process going through phases. I note the similarities of phases to a classic dialectical series of movements, and suggest that Hegel's dialectic provides a suitable vocabulary for understanding the dynamics involved. I do not to wish to overstate the contribution a dialectic-based approach can make to understanding and mapping reform, for reform's record owes everything to the political realities and organisational dynamics of the NP. Nor can one theoretical framework explain the difficulties of sustaining reform, or the political need to balance change with continuity, let alone compensate for the shallow analytical and empirical basis on which arguments for reform are typically made. Even so, an explanation structured around dialectical terms adds clarity to what is otherwise a confusing (and often contradictory) picture of political statements, organisational change, speculation, anecdotes and publicity campaigns. Above all, it emphasises that reform projects, in Nigeria as elsewhere, are interactive processes that are best described as a waltz: one step forward is followed by one step sideways or backwards.
My argument – that reform can make a difference, but that the changes inherent in it should be understood as forming part of a dialectical process – is presented in four sections. The first section provides a dialectical perspective on the challenges of policing Nigeria from January 2005 to immediately after the elections of April 2007 when Obasanjo retired. The second discusses the 10-point reform programme introduced by Sunday Ehindero, Obasanjo's third and last IG, while the third uses three British Council-funded surveys of Nigerian attitudes to the police to substantiate the claim that reform projects can make a difference to policing, albeit of a localised and temporary nature. The fourth section concludes that change is invariably balanced by continuity.
POLICING NIGERIA
The environment in which Nigeria's police operate is challenging, as are the obstacles in the way of reform. The NP's 325,000 under-resourced officers are incapable of effectively policing a country as big, populous, poverty-stricken and divided as Nigeria, let alone doing so in a humane fashion.Footnote 1 They confront high levels of violent crime, much of which expresses or exploits the political, religious, ethnic and societal tensions that are rooted in Nigeria's poverty, unemployment and competition for land. Nigeria may be Africa's biggest oil producer, yet more than half the population lives on less than US$1 a day, and the government's attempts to benefit from high oil prices on the world market are regularly undermined by corruption and gross mismanagement. Although levels of communal violence are significantly lower than in the years immediately after Nigeria's return to democratic rule in 1999, when thousands of people were killed, the potential for open conflict remains.
This is especially true in Nigeria's burgeoning urban areas, for Nigeria, like many African countries, has high rates of urbanisation and a volatile underclass of unemployed youths. Indeed, the policing of urban areas is regarded as particularly problematic by the NP, because cities lack the societal cohesion and traditional control mechanisms of rural areas; it is relatively easy for people to find anonymity in the bigger cities, and tarmac roads make it easy for robbers in fast cars to enter and exit urban areas (2007b int.). Nor has sufficient thought been given to public order strategy. When confronted with widespread rioting, the police usually respond slowly and then use excessive force indiscriminately. Arrests are made and formulaic inquiries held, but genuinely preventive measures are not developed.
Needless to say this situation is exacerbated by insufficient funding, lack of resources and training, poor working conditions and low pay. Take the case of Garki police station, a local station in an unfashionable and poor district of the federal capital, Abuja.
Abuja is a planned capital built by petrodollars. It is dotted with stunning modern buildings, lavish government and financial offices, and international-class hotels that are reached by good roads and empty flyovers. The national police headquarters are new, quiet, smartly functional and staffed by efficient and educated officers in well-pressed uniforms. Half a mile away is the federal capital's administrative police headquarters. It is older and its front courtyard is full of vehicles, officers greeting each other or waiting for orders, and civilian staff and visitors. The concrete of its overcrowded buildings is decaying, but it is busy, people move purposively and the noise levels are lower than in comparable stations elsewhere in West Africa. As usual, there are large televisions in the offices of senior officers, and photocopying machines and copying paper (as well as ledgers) in their support offices. Elsewhere in the building, paper is under lock and key.
Garki is nearby. Its functional single-storey building of small rooms, offices and cells is neat and tidy, and its cells do not smell, but the officers at the check-in counter wear stained and crumpled uniforms, and the station's special units operate out of lean-tos in a dusty courtyard. The cars and mopeds scattered around the courtyard were taken from armed robbers, and are used by police in the absence of alternative vehicles.
The station gained notoriety in June 2005 for the involvement of four of its officers in the arbitrary execution of six innocent market traders – ‘armed robbers’ according to the officers concerned, but more generally known as the Apo Six. Local residents then burned Apo police post, which had for several years been the base for Garki's openly abusive policemen (CLEEN 2006: 10). Much to people's surprise, the case of the Apo Six was openly and publicly addressed and dealt with by Ehindero, but the murders were far from atypical, even if the manner of their resolution was not. As a result of a complex tangle of legacy issues, inadequate resources, high levels of violent crime, societal corruption and, no doubt, personal pathologies, police abuse regularly includes torture, brutality, extra-judicial killings, deaths in custody, corruption and intimidation. Nigeria is party to all the principal human rights treaties, but misconduct is rarely investigated, and the NP's rapid response force, the Mobile Police (Mopol) are known as Kill-and-Go from their trigger-happy approach to crowd control. Confession is thought to form the basis of some 60% of prosecutions, but there is only one ballistics expert in the country, one police laboratory and no fingerprint database.
Corruption is endemic at every level, with the police regularly heading Transparency International's list of the most corrupt institutions in the country. It ranges from the constable who extorts Naira 20 (about £0·08) from motorists at checkpoints – and most drivers arrive at checkpoints with N20 in their hand – to the senior officers who take their subordinates' allowances. The extent of the problems associated with what might be called the political economy of policing was evident in January 2007, when the head of CID was killed in Abuja, it was rumoured by his own men, because he pocketed most of their allowances. The effect of such demands is corrosive in a society where officers are responsible for their extended and often impoverished families.
Policing is a harsh business in Nigeria. Some officers may be convinced of the need for reform, but the public fear and mistrust the police with good reason. Perhaps for this reason Nigeria has a strong record of independent organisations promoting reform. Building on the country's established record of historically based monographs on policing, many Nigerian academics, analysts, politicians and advocacy groups have recommended ways in which the NP can be reformed (Ahire Reference Ahire1991; Chukwuma Reference Chukwuma2006; Jemibewon Reference Jemibewon2002; Onyeozili Reference Onyeozili2005; Rotimi Reference Rotimi2001). As this suggests, most Nigerian research on police reform is driven by normative and policy-relevant aims, rather than theoretical concerns. Donors and the international consultants working for them favour a similar approach.
Understanding reform
How then should the dynamics of police reform in Africa be understood? There is now something of an international police-reform industry; South Africa's politicised requirements and experience dominated (and funded) the international debate in the early years of the post-Cold War era, to be followed in the late 1990s and early 2000s by those of the Balkans, Afghanistan and Iraq (Brogden & Shearing Reference Brogden and Shearing.1993; Murray Reference Murray2007; Peake Reference Peake2004; Rathmell Reference Rathemell, Oliker, Kelly, Brannan and Crane.2005; Woodward Reference Woodward, Cawthra and Luckham2003). However, there is little evidence of any sustained attempt to place the analysis of police reform into its broader intellectual context. Non-governmental organisations (NGOs) such as Human Rights Watch (HRW) and the Commonwealth Human Rights Initiative (CHRI) produce thoughtful reports of police practices and inadequacies, but these tend to be normatively driven, while journals such as Conflict, Security & Development offer primarily policy-relevant analysis. Other journals (of which International Peacekeeping is notable) publish relevant work that is, however, primarily intended to contribute to mainstream security debates. In practice, most work on police reform is published in conference or workshop proceedings, and/or in reports written on behalf of donors, inter-governmental organisations (IGOs), NGOs and, increasingly, commercial companies (e.g. Atos Consulting) by international consultants. Most police advisers are retired or seconded officers who do not publish scholarly reports, while most academic consultants (many of whom are development or policy specialists working primarily on defence-related issues) produce either descriptive publications, or papers based on the assumption that democratic-style police reform is not only desirable in itself, but also follows a predictable and essentially serial progression. Transferability is assumed, and sequencing is prioritised over contextual assessments.Footnote 2 The result is all too often as superficial as DfID's statement that thousands of Nigerian police personnel have participated in ‘sensitisation workshops asserting need [sic] to end corruption and human rights abuse’ (BC/DfID 2005).
Such research is as divorced from mainstream academic literature on criminal justice (Garland Reference Garland2001; Hester & Eglin Reference Hester and Eglin.1992; Innes Reference Innes2002) as it is from that on security (Hansen Reference Hansen2006; Huysmans et al. Reference Huysmans, Dobson and Prokhovnik2006). More importantly, it makes little headway in explaining the political and social realities of policing, the resilience of police institutions and the elusiveness of change. The omission might be rectified by, for example, researchers systematically assessing organisational developments in a specific police force, or tracing the political economy of policing. Yet although these approaches would identify the details of reform, they would not convey its dynamics; they would miss the broad outlines of its motive forces. For this reason, I suggest that police reform is best understood dialectically. Only then can the interactive nature of change be understood, and the ambiguities and advantages of even flawed reform be identified.
A dialectical perspective
A modified dialect characterises Nigerian policing. Despite its volatility, Nigeria is a remarkably deferential society in which policing (i.e. security, and regime security at that) is a literal rather than theoretical construct: policing standards are whatever the strongest man says they are. This is the foundational fact in Nigerian policing, and it forms the starting point of the dialectical movement (technically the thesis).
The political and social realities alluded to initiate the movements driving the development of policing. The result so far has been inadequate or inconsistent policing that is revealed through, for example, the establishment of a judicial commission of inquiry into the killing of the Apo Six. Their case was not unusual,Footnote 3 but the police cover-up of their deaths received national publicity when Sunday Ehindero, the then acting IG, opened the internal panel's investigation to the victim's families and lawyers, and to representatives from associational groups. The panel's findings were sufficiently damning to compel the federal government to create the commission. In turn, Nigeria's state and independent media reported developments in detail, thereby ensuring that the NP was publicly censured.
Needless to say, the commission's recommendations did not lead to lasting change. The victims were given a decent burial, their families were compensated, the Federal Ministry of Justice took over the prosecution of suspects from the NP – and extra-judicial killings and the police's culture of impunity continued. Despite this, Ehindero's actions facilitated a new phase in policing that was to some extent the opposite, or antithesis, of the NP's usual practice. Admittedly he inherited some aspects of what became his reform programme (the British Council's community policing project was supported and expanded by Balogun from 2003 onwards), but he could equally well have obstructed reform.
By 2006 the government had evidently decided that these trends should be brought together in an internationally approved manner. The reasons for the move are unclear, but it seems reasonable to assume that the policing of a civilian-ruled Nigeria had to become less brutal if Obasanjo was to receive the international support he required; policing's selective and corrupt nature had to be seen to be addressed.Footnote 4 At the same time, Obasanjo had to ensure that the NP was capable of providing acceptable levels of order maintenance and regime support. Only then could reform be seen to be implemented. The resultant phase of reforms led by Ehindero effectively represented the synthesis in the dialectic. However, judging from the violence and plotting attending 2007's presidential elections, it was an unbalanced synthesis. Indeed, it may yet represent the thesis for a new dialectical movement. But this is only to be expected, for movement – forward, sideways or backwards – will continue, not least because policing is contingent on political developments such as the election of a new president and the appointment of a new IG.
For such reasons, Nigeria's reform projects are best visualised as a waltz. The metaphor should not be taken too far, but it helps to balance the causal development imperatives underpinning the analyses and policies offered by donors such as DfID. Additionally, it emphasises that public statements about the desirability of reform on the part of politicians and senior officers are arguably better understood as indicating tactical adjustment to unavoidable political pressures, than as genuine political commitment to fundamental reforms that would diminish their power and resources. Admittedly this is a rather negative assessment. It is also possible that if the dialectic process goes through a large number of cycles, enough reform-minded people might be promoted to positions of influence to have a positive effect. Yet this seems unlikely.
Whatever the case, this nuanced pattern is evident from both Ehindero's record as IG, and opinion polls carried out by the UK British Council's Security, Justice and Growth programme.
EHINDERO'S TEN-POINT PLAN
There are two main reasons why Ehindero's time as IG is critical in this context. First, he consistently and publicly stated that the NP must put in place measures preventing the violation of human rights; i.e. that it must reform. Second, he, like chief officers throughout Africa, was beholden to his president (Hills Reference Hills2007). That reform received unprecedented attention during his tenure can therefore be seen as indicative of Obasanjo's political intent.
Reform moves forward
The starting point (thesis) for any discussion of policing in Nigeria is that the NP's primary task is regime representation and regulation, rather than serving the public as such. Indeed, Potholm's (Reference Potholm1969: 157) observation that Nigeria's police enforce decisions taken by the political elites to whom they are accountable remains as true today as in 1969. The NP's priorities continue to be regime representation, order maintenance, paramilitary operations and regulatory activities. Meanwhile, the main tasks of low-ranking officers often appear to be collecting tolls from drivers and supplicants, and waiting for something to happen.
Ehindero's appointment in January 2005 introduced a new note, for it took place in the aftermath of an internationally notorious scandal. Ehindero, a legally trained career policeman who had been Balogun's deputy, was appointed acting IG after Obasanjo dismissed Balogun on the basis that Balogun had stolen or laundered US$98 million.Footnote 5
The reasons for Balogun's dismissal are contested amongst NP officers. He had clearly offended Obasanjo in some way, though he may also have been sacrificed to appease the donors whom Obasanjo wished to influence. Balogun (a career officer since 1973) had, after all, been in office since 2002, and was well respected by his peers. That Ehindero promptly introduced a 10-point plan for reforming the police was, perhaps, only to be expected. Indeed, Balogun had introduced an 8-point agenda when he assumed office after the compulsory retirement of his predecessor, Musliu Smith, who had in turn offered a blueprint for reform designed to address the legacy of military rule when he became IG in 1999 (Arase & Iwuofor Reference Arase, Iwuofor., Arase and Iwuofor2007: 5–27).Footnote 6 Each man sought to put his stamp on the NP.
Ehindero was presumably given instructions or permission to introduce reform measures as early as January 2005; he would not otherwise have done so. Reform was undoubtedly necessary, but during the six years of Obasanjo's civilian rule the police had shown only limited signs of shaking off the legacy of their decay under 15 years of military rule. As HRW (2005) noted in March 2005, the use of torture and degrading treatment on ordinary criminals in local police stations was widespread, routine, and often resulted in death, just as it had during military rule.
In reality, Ehindero's priority was to establish himself and prevent his authority haemorrhaging away – his appointment was not confirmed until 29 September 2005, so the latter was a real danger. Even so, within 24 hours of his appointment on 17 January 2005 he introduced a 10-point programme of action (supported by 57 bullet points covering ‘methodology’) that would theoretically bring Nigeria's police into alignment with international standards. Designed to ‘reposition the Force on the premise of being responsive, effective and accountable’, the five-year plan (estimated to cost over N240 billion) referred to the police's need to develop effective crime prevention through intelligence-led policing; combat corruption, violent and economic crime; develop trust and partnerships in policing and in conflict resolution more generally; and improve the police's image. It called for the police to monitor potential areas of conflict, and to receive training in intervention strategies. Attention was paid to improving career development, working conditions and welfare support. The plan's general tone was evident from the new police motto: ‘To Serve and Protect with Integrity’. In other words, although Ehindero's vision was in many respects similar to that of his predecessor, it placed great emphasis on the internal dynamics needed to create ‘an efficient, citizen friendly police organisation’ (Arase & Iwuofor Reference Arase, Iwuofor., Arase and Iwuofor2007: 25). The conception of democratic policing elaborated by it was in this way that of an efficient and effective police offering a humane form of policing.
The speed with which the plan was announced indicates the extent of Ehindero's personal commitment to positioning the NP ‘at the forefront of democratic policing in Africa’ (NP 2005: 187). In the months that followed, he gave innumerable interviews on the need for reform, hosting (and co-editing) a national workshop on human rights and law enforcement in August 2005. Confirmation of his appointment in September finally gave him the authority needed to drive through reform projects.
Reform thus appeared to move forward, but Nigerian realities meant that in practice it moved sideways. Serving and protecting with integrity meant little to constables whose entry-level salaries were about N100,000 p.a. (about $700), but who had to pay for their uniforms out of salaries that were sometimes delayed for months. And their working conditions were often squalid. As Ehindero noted in his 2005 annual report, some police ‘live in a kennel … The conditions in some barracks are, to say the least, nauseating’ (NP 2005: 26).
Another step forward
More positively, Ehindero announced that there would be a ‘paradigm shift’ in Nigerian policing. Indeed, he was particularly proud of the ‘attitudinal change’ he facilitated, whereby ‘moral content’ entered policing (Newswatch 29.1.2007). Regardless of the precise meaning of the phrase ‘paradigm shift’,Footnote 7 he could not have done this without Obasanjo's approval. Indeed, a significant key to the progress of reform in Nigerian policing is to be found in Obasanjo's working relationship with Ehindero. Their relationship is the single most important variable, because IGs are appointed, controlled and dismissed by the president; presidents sack their IGs when they are no longer useful, or are an embarrassment. In other words, the IG (who wields great power over the police) is accountable only to his president. Policing is always guided by presidential calculations, so the way in which Obasanjo dealt with his IG offers a sign of his priorities and intent.
It is difficult to characterise the nature of Obasanjo's relationship with Ehindero – the signals are mixed – but three developments offer an indication of his preferences. First is the manner of Ehindero's appointment; second is the timing of his retirement; and third, and most significant in this context, is Obasanjo's toleration or encouragement of Ehindero's reform plans. Together they suggest that Obasanjo appreciated the value of the police as a technical tool for conflict management, but also that he paid attention to international calls for police reform.
Ehindero was the most successful and internationally respected of Obasanjo's three IGs.Footnote 8 However, Obasanjo was evidently uncertain as to Ehindero's initial value, because nearly 10 months passed before he confirmed the appointment. Such a long period of uncertainty suggests that either Obasanjo did not trust or value the police leadership, or he did not see them playing a positive role in managing Nigeria's intra-communal conflicts, or he found withholding confirmation a useful political tactic for assessing the value of potential chief officers.Footnote 9 Whatever the reason, Ehindero's authority drained away, and the NP's senior leadership drifted. Confirmation therefore signalled that Obasanjo had turned his attention back to the police, and the possibilities that their civil status represented. It also gave Ehindero the authority he needed to make his mark on the institution.
By late 2005, Ehindero had evidently become useful to Obasanjo. His tenure was extended when he reached the mandatory retirement age of 60 in March 2006, and again in December. This final extension took him to retirement on 29 May 2007, at which point he planned to become a senior advocate of the Nigerian Bar. The announcement in early 2007 that he would retire a few weeks after the elections was politically convenient for Obasanjo too, and could have been intended as a signal that Obasanjo did not propose using the police to rig the elections (Balogun was allegedly used in this way in the 2003 elections). Alternatively, and most likely, it suggested that Obasanjo considered the police's role in elections to be important. He presumably did not want the uncertainty of a new IG at the same time as he saw off his political opponents before retiring to his farm or (less plausibly) claiming a third term as president. In the event, the 2007 elections are widely regarded as having been rigged, though the extent to which senior officers actively managed the result is difficult to determine.
At that time, no one knew who Ehindero's successor would be. Some officers thought that a northerner would be chosen from the ranks of existing deputy and assistant IGs (Obasanjo and Ehindero are both southerners), but the only certainty was, as the NP's public relations officer, Haz Iwendi, told reporters in early January, that ‘God … makes an IGP’ (The News 9.1.2007). Change in the police was thought most likely if one of the existing 14 assistant IGs (AIGs) was appointed, rather than one of the six deputy IGs (DIGs), because all those of senior rank to the new appointee are expected to retire. In the event, an Igbo DIG from the south, Mike Okiro, was appointed by Obasanjo's successor, but only after a day of drama when Ehindero refused to hand over to his (Igbo) second-in-command, DIG Onovo.
In his time as IG, Ehindero introduced a number of measures that would, if implemented, have lessened corruption, brutality and squalor in the police. This required Obasanjo's permission. Obasanjo probably saw reforms such as the introduction of community policing projects as a gesture towards donors, rather than as signalling fundamental change, but his public support for the NP's efforts to improve its image at home and abroad indicates the importance he attributed to it. Reform may have represented an element in his broader strategy for tackling his international critics.
In return, Nigeria's international friends supported the police, and thereby strengthened the synthesis that was increasingly identifiable. Some offered advice and funding as a means to promote more humane policing and increase public confidence in the NP, though most wanted only to increase its operational effectiveness. Thus the UK funded a programme of community policing, whereas the US donated anti-riot equipment, Spain offered anti-terrorism and forensic science training, and Ukraine said it was willing to train police pilots. Ehindero visited Israeli security agencies in late 2006.
Needless to say, the police failed to live up to Ehindero's ambitious plan. Similarly, Obasanjo's public support for Ehindero's plan did not mean that he wanted or could afford too many gestures towards democratic policing. The trade-off was that he could support reform only if the NP enhanced its capacity for rapid response and effective public order operations. But this was only to be expected, and does not detract from the political significance of Obasanjo facilitating a synthesis of continuity and change.
REFORM'S UNEVEN RECORD
The introduction to this article asked whether even flawed police reform could make a difference in relatively democratic societies. The record of the last two years in Nigeria suggests that it can, but that democratic reform in an environment such as Nigeria's is invariably superficial, localised and temporary.
Establishing the superficial nature of the reform project is relatively clear-cut. This is not to suggest that Obasanjo or Ehindero were insincere. Rather it is to say that they were sincere, but also they were realists who knew where the limits were. The starting point for any assessment of Obasanjo's thinking and Ehindero's instructions is, therefore, recognition of the multiple tensions that Obasanjo had to negotiate his way through during his second term of office. He alone had the power to drive through meaningful reform, but he also had to accommodate and manipulate international political imperatives, and Nigeria's ethnic and religious divisions, as well as the politics and realities of its policing. Meanwhile, Ehindero acted according to the political guidance laid down by his political masters, and, as a career officer with an awareness of international policing standards (and a committed Christian), he no doubt sought to do what he saw as a reasonable job in difficult circumstances. Consequently, both men promoted the idea of community-based policing, even as they tolerated a style of policing that depends on bribes, graft, exploitation and intimidation; they promoted police–community partnerships for conflict resolution, even as they relied on squadrons of paramilitary Mopol to crush sectarian or separatist conflict. Neither sought to address internal corruption in the police, and (more importantly) neither addressed the corrosive effects of constables' insistent demands for N20.Footnote 10 On the other hand, police institutions are remarkably resilient, and corruption is embedded in Nigerian society. Further, Ehindero was IG (rather than acting IG) for little more than a year, and is on record as stating that the rank and file did not carry out his orders (Vanguard 25.8.2006). In other words, the superficiality of his reform programme is to some extent predictable.
Localised impact
Identifying the localised and temporary nature of reform initiatives is more straightforward, because it is evident in the quantitative surveys undertaken by donors and by Nigerian NGOs such as CLEEN, as is reform's potential value. A case in point concerns the record of the community policing initiative introduced by the security component of the British Council/DfID Security, Justice and Growth Programme (SJG) in 2002.Footnote 11 The results of this programme also substantiate the dialectical approach of thesis and antithesis offered here, albeit in a limited and transient form.
The community policing programme's stated goals are to transform the NP's culture and organisation using community-based policing and partnerships. A ‘culture of excellence in service provision’ is to be introduced, individual officers are to be held accountable for their performance, and ‘ethical policing’ is to be ‘placed at the core of all personal and organisational development programmes’. ‘Social problems’ are to be jointly identified, prioritised and resolved by the police and public (BC/DfID 2005: 2).
It is easy to dismiss such neo-Peelian jargon, but it would be wrong to question the sincerity of some of those introducing the programme, or the bravery – the word is appropriate – of those full-time community policing developers (CPDs) trying to fulfil their mandate of ‘confronting unacceptable police attitudes’ (ibid.). Some CPDs are cynical or incompetent, but others genuinely seek to shift the NP's existing culture of impunity to something conducive to a more trusting relationship between the police and local people. In other words, their objective is synthesis.
Better police–public relations
The potential for synthesis is emphasised by the marked improvement in public attitudes to the police that the introduction of community policing made possible. Obasanjo's blessing on the project in its early days meant that other influential individuals and organisations also supported it, including the minister of police affairs, the Police Council, Police Service Commission, Senate Committee on Police Affairs, the Police Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives and the Nigerian Bar Association. Public interest was cultivated by regular feature stories on police reform and community policing in newspapers and magazines. The results were evident in a series of surveys conducted in 2005 and 2006 by the British Council in Kano State in the north, Ogun State in the southeast, and across all of the country's six geo-political zones (interview 2007a).
When in 2006 the British Council's police advisers in Abuja compared their May 2005 baseline evaluation of the impact of Kano State's community policing project with that of June 2006, they found that the overall experience of police corruption in the industrial city of Kano was marginally down. The survey, which incorporated the responses of 304 participants in 2005 and 500 in 2006, employed a mixed methodology that collected data from respondents in their homes, and face-to-face personal interviews using a stratified multi-stage random selection procedure.
The Kano survey produced evidence of the uneven but surprisingly positive consequences of reform projects. These included improvements in police behaviour and performance, a reduction in corruption, fewer human rights abuses and an increase in high visibility patrols intended to deter and/or reassure. As a result of the introduction of community policing, fear of crime (especially armed robbery) fell from 68% to 48%. Further, 56% of respondents perceived a decrease in corruption, 30% perceived the police to be more co-operative and 7% thought them less abusive.
Respondent perception of police performance across most of 13 key performance areas was notably positive. The police were thought to be more effective in dealing with violent disturbances (+80%), rape (+79%), domestic violence (+68%) and road traffic accidents (+67%). Significantly, police demands for N20 fell dramatically from 70% to 22%. Demands for bail money were also down from 37% to 20%.Footnote 12
Against that, the reported incidence of the police using excessive force increased from 13% to 21%. Reported threats by armed police fell from 46% to 9%, but incidents involving police abusing their power went up from 37% to 53%, and reported incidents of unlawful arrest from 15% to 39%. The Kano respondents were also convinced that the police treat people according to their status and position. Respondents' perceptions of the respect shown by the police to the rights of suspects and prisoners fell from +12% to −1%.
Survey results from Ogun State for the same period produced similar results, with significant increases in public perceptions of police effectiveness across key performance indicators such as dealing with road traffic accidents (+55%), domestic violence (+52%), violent disturbances (+46%), disputes between people and groups (+46%) and crime prevention (+38%). In Ogun as in Kano, 45% of respondents thought corruption fell after introduction of community policing. Overall fear of crime declined slightly.
The third British Council survey to substantiate the positive value of even flawed reform programmes is an April 2005 survey of attitudes towards police and crime in urban areas. Questionnaires were given to 1,519 urban respondents from 18 states, spread across the country's six geo-political zones. The results suggest that policing patterns were inconsistent (just as the antithetical phase of the dialectical model would suggest), even as Ehindero's programme was introduced. For example, the survey found that 65% of Nigerians felt very safe in their communities, and that the highest percentage of those feeling safe/very safe were in Lagos (89%), while the lowest were in the South-South geopolitical zone, which includes the Niger Delta (25%).
Other results were more predictable. More than half of all respondents reported being asked for N20 in the previous six months, with South-South respondents reporting the highest anti-police feeling and incidences of abuse: 44% perceived or experienced harassment at arrest, 40% abuse of power, 34% verbal abuse, 33% maltreatment in detention and 20% reported being threatened with guns. Some 65% disliked police because of bribery and illegal tolls at checkpoints; 28% because of illegal and unlawful arrest; and 23% because of harassment, embarrassment or intimidation.
More than half of all respondents were dissatisfied with police performance and services (dissatisfaction was highest in the South-South at 73%), citing police demands for bribes, bail money and N20 at checkpoints. Against that, 27% said that they liked the police because they protected lives and property, 23% thought police reduced and combated crimes, and 21% believed they maintained law and order, settled conflicts and kept the peace. Regular patrols were highly valued. The picture is varied, but overall it suggests that even flawed forms of police reform can make a difference.
MIXED SIGNALS
The analysis of police reform in a country such as Nigeria offers an entrance into issues at the heart of a state's security and order regime, its policy choices and the resilient nature of its coercive institutions. Explanations must be placed in their proper historical and social context, but the fundamental variables of Nigerian policing apply across much of Africa, giving its experience wider relevance.
The dynamics of reform in Nigeria, let alone in Africa as a whole, have yet to be systematically or comprehensively analysed; most approaches are prescriptive or normative. As developments in Nigeria since 2005 make clear, a more nuanced assessment of the drivers and effects of reform and change more generally is needed. However, such information is usually hidden and highly political, so obtaining it (and publicly assessing it) is problematic. Knowledge is also often incomplete or partial. For such reasons the approaches commonly used in contemporary analyses of security issues do not easily translate into accurate explanations of what might be described as the political economy of policing.
In practice, the resilience of police institutions – and the instrumentalisation of corruption, disorder and patron–client relationships evident throughout Nigerian society – means that change intended to introduce reform is best understood as forming part of a dialectical process. Hence Obasanjo and Ehindero used the language of international democratic-style policing even as they accommodated Nigerian realities. This trend is evident in the introduction of community-based policing, and in the role allocated to the police in the 2007 elections and their cooperation with the Independent National Electoral Commission. On the other hand, it is equally evident in the lack of resources and intimidation that community policing developers officers are sometimes subjected to by their colleagues, the inauguration of a presidential committeeFootnote 13 to raise N100 billion for police equipment and the NP's plans to deter politicians from using thuggery and assassination as electioneering tactics (Daily Independent 21.12.2006). Consequently, the starting point for any assessment of the reform-related calculations of Nigeria's political and security elite is recognition of the multiple tensions that the president must negotiate. This represents the reality, or to phrase it more theoretically, the foundational thesis in the analysis presented here.
The need to accommodate or manipulate the resultant changes and continuities results in the dialectic identified here. The stages of the process (i.e. antithesis) are evident in a city such as Kano, where trust-based community policing is successfully promoted, even as detainees are denied medical treatment, and the NP's armoured personnel carriers are parked at street intersections. However, the primary theme in Nigerian policing is continuity, rather than change, and new developments and unavoidable political pressures are accommodated, manipulated or subverted according to the coercive imperatives at the heart of public policing and the political skills of those involved.
The signals are, as ever, mixed. Developments since 2005 suggest that the balance is shifting, slightly, towards change and/or reform, i.e. synthesis. Thus Obasanjo preferred to use the police for conflict management, though he did not have a coherent strategy for dealing with inter-communal violence. Similarly he publicly supported Ehindero's 10-point plan, though this did not mean that he either wanted or could afford too many gestures towards democratic policing. In reality, the trade-off was that he could or would support reform only if the NP retained or enhanced its capacity for rapid response and effective public order operations.
Similar considerations apply to both men's successors. Their desire to make their mark on Nigeria and its police will facilitate a synthesis that may then serve as the thesis for a new process of retrenchment or reform; reform can, of course, mean more effective policing, as well as community-based partnerships. For such reasons, police reform is best understood as a dialectical movement.
