Why Nigeria has sustained civilian rule since 1999, if not some variety of democracy, is a worthwhile research question. Hill distinguishes his new book from a slew of other recent publications by asking why the state itself has survived. In fact, the book opens by arguing that Nigeria is already a failed state because it lacks control over important territory, and the government ‘does not promote the flourishing of all its citizens’ (p. 2). After a brief review of the failed states literature and the concept's appeal to policymakers, the book essentially coheres around the puzzle of Nigeria's persistence.
There are some empirics to quibble with, especially given the tremendous subnational variation in governance in recent years (Lagos, Bayelsa, Edo and several states have shown promise). I am also surprised that Professor Hill did not take advantage of the ample behavioural data available about attitudes towards the state. This could have thoughtfully informed the theoretical side of state failure by exploring mis/trust in different institutions, the social basis of political consent, or loyalty to the nation itself compared with other identities. As Joel Migdal and James Scott have shown, people obey in many ways, and in many places, where the state has little or no coercive capacity. On the same terms, Hill should have more thoroughly and directly engaged prominent sceptics of the failed state concept, including Stewart Patrick (Reference Patrick2011) and contributors to Clunan and Trinkunas' book, Ungoverned Spaces (2010). Also missing is the imaginative and influential work of Ebenezer Obadare and Wale Adebanwi, including their book, Encountering the Nigerian State (2010).
However, it is useful to accept Nigeria as a failed state as a premise for exploring the puzzle of the state's persistence, which Hill frames with skill and clarity. The state has failed its citizens by failing to provide adequate security, sufficient healthcare and education. Chapter 2 traces and compares the rise of the Movement for the Emancipation in the Niger Delta (MEND), based in the southern oil-producing region, and the Islamic militants popularly known as Boko Haram, based in the northeast. The insurgencies offer evidence that the state does not control much of its territory (a point which President Goodluck Jonathan bizarrely conceded when he declared a State of Emergency in the northeast in May 2013). Hill sometimes seems more motivated to compare the two groups than to contrast them, though. Pierre Englebert (Reference Englebert2009), Judy Asuni (Reference Asuni2009) and a variety of scholars would likely question the characterisation of MEND as a secessionist movement, on technical terms. Moreover, ample data available from the Council on Foreign Relations and the Fund for Peace demonstrate that MEND's tactical uses of violence are very different from Boko Haram's large-scale targeting of civilians: destroying an oil platform or stealing oil through ‘bunkering’ is quite different from blowing up a church. The chapter could also have benefited from a detailed discussion of the amnesty programme for the Niger Delta rebel groups since 2009 (critiqued in a 2013 analysis by the US Institute for Peace).
Hill's insightful and symmetrical analysis in the subsequent chapters identifies three factors that divide Nigeria, but also work to keep it united. First, federalism has increased the cost of government, multiplied the opportunities for corruption, damaged the federal basis of political rights through rotation of positions, and disempowered millions of citizens through discriminatory indigeneity laws. Federalism has simultaneously broken up regions in ways that constructively weaken ethno-regional loyalties, promoted a sense of nationhood, and reduced sectarianism through electoral mechanisms requiring a geographical distribution of support. Some of these phenomena arguably belong beyond the conceptual boundaries of federalism, but regardless, it provides a useful rubric. Second, the oil sector has destroyed the Delta's environment, stimulated corruption, eroded democracy and inspired secessionism. At the same time, it has promoted international support for Nigerian unity, and eroded a ‘willingness to allow the country to break apart’ (p. 72). Paired with data on economic diversification released since the book's publication, notably the rise of the service sector from 25% of GDP in 2000 to 37% in 2011, this chapter also provides rich material for debate along with informative details about how the petroleum sector actually works. Third, an excellent chapter on the armed services explores how they have contributed to state failure not only by failing to defeat the aforementioned insurgencies, but also by ‘abusing the civil, political and human rights of ordinary Nigerians’ in their efforts to do so; this has ‘stoked popular anger’ towards the state, driving some people into the arms of rebels (p. 99). Yet the military has also fought bravely for the country's unity, and been at the forefront of multiculturalism through ethnic integration programmes.
Despite Hill's opening salvo on state failure, the book is far from polemical, and the binary nature of the core analytical chapters will provide readers – including those new to Nigeria – with effective information for making up their own minds. Hill's latest work deploys graceful prose, well-placed anecdotes and the necessary sensitivity to Nigeria's complexities.
