ECHOES OF SUN TZU

O. JASON OSAI writes that Nigeria’s future should not be sacrificed on the altar of individual ambition or partisan loyalty Sun Tzu was an ancient Chinese military strategist, philosopher and reputed general who lived during China’s Spring and Autumn period, around the 6th century BC. He is best remembered as the author of The Art of War, one of the most influential treatises on military strategy, leadership and the management of conflict ever written. But he was more than a student of warfare. He was an astute observer of human nature, political power, leadership, deception and the consequences of poor judgement. His central philosophy is that the highest form of victory is not the destruction of an adversary, but the achievement of one’s objective without unnecessary bloodshed or devastation. Sun Tzu understood that war is an expensive undertaking, that internal division weakens nations, and that a leader who fails to understand the consequences of his ambitions could ultimately destroy the very state he sought to defend or control. One of his most enduring propositions is that a nation must be governed with wisdom, discipline, strategic foresight and an appreciation of steadfast focus on the common good. In his philosophy, power is not an end in itself; it is an instrument that demands responsibility and restraint. Although the popular saying that “an evil man would burn his own nation to the ground merely to rule over its ashes” is frequently attributed to Sun Tzu, there is no reliable evidence that he actually said or wrote it. Yet the sentiment of the statement raises a profound question that resonates far beyond ancient China: What happens when the personal ambition of those who seek power becomes more important than the survival and prosperity of the nation? It is against this philosophical backdrop that the Nigerian experience invites reflection, and this is the objective of this piece. Moving forward, we ask: What does the saying mean? Simply answered: It describes a leader whose hunger for power is greater than his love for his country. Such a person would: One, offhandedly destroy national institutions than allow someone else to lead. Two, create division and conflict to maintain control. Three, sacrifice the people’s welfare to protect personal ambition and four, leave the country devastated, provided he remains in power. More than two millennia after Sun Tzu, Nigeria presents us with a compelling study in the relationship between power and ambition on the one hand and national destiny and good governance on the other hand. One is compelled to ask whether those currently entrusted with the responsibility of preserving the Nigerian state fully appreciate the difference between winning political battles and securing the future of a nation. For what value is political victory if the institutions of government are weakened, the economy battered, the people impoverished and the national spirit diminished? A country is not a trophy to be won, nor is its population collateral damage in the contest for political supremacy. The ultimate measure of leadership is not how long one holds power, but the legacies that are bequeathed the nation when one eventually leaves office. The peculiar tragedy of the Nigerian situation is that it is at war with itself and so cannot identify the enemy. Drawing from Sun Tzu’s metaphor, Nigeria is being burnt down by those entrusted with the power of the state, and the most worrisome and frightening aspect of this unfolding national catastrophe is that the fire is not coming from a single direction. It is being fuelled by political recklessness, institutional decay, economic mismanagement, brazen kleptomania, insecurity and an alarming disregard for the welfare of ordinary citizens. Experience over the years shows that a nation does not collapse in one dramatic moment. Sometimes, it dies gradually, one compromised institution of governance at a time, one abandoned responsibility after another, until the very foundations upon which its existence rests begin to crumble. Currently, the National Assembly has become an extension of the executive and the judiciary has lost its bite. Any person with a modicum of sense of reasoning will recognize and accept that Nigeria is speedily slipping down a very slippery socioeconomic slope. Nigeria is heading towards disaster; the nation is at the edge of a yawning canyon. The economy is suffocating millions. The cost of living has become an unbearable burden for families and the middle class has been obliterated. Confronted by diminishing opportunities and an uncertain future, the youth now look beyond their homeland for hope. Japa, the phenomenon of traveling overseas in search for greener pastures, has made its way into the Nigerian lexicon and its relevance is no more limited to traveling to Europe and America, Asian countries and some less endowed African countries have become desired destinations. Farmers cannot confidently return to their fields in some parts of the country. Communities are ravaged by insecurity, while citizens struggle to reconcile the paradox of enormous resources of their country with the poverty that defines their daily existence. Sadly, in the face of this national distress, the political class is unapologetically preoccupied with the acquisition, retention and consolidation of power and the brazen display of ill-gotten wealth through ostentatious lifestyle . Political survival seems to command greater attention and urgency than national recovery. The contest for political advantage frequently overshadows the imperative of governance. Tzu’s metaphor of burning the nation to the ground simply to rule over its ashes, finds appropriateness here when taken against the backdrop of a country where political ambition is cold-heartedly indifferent to the consequences of its pursuit. Nigeria is not the private estate of its political leaders. It belongs to its people. Therefore, its future should not be sacrificed on the altar of individual ambition, partisan loyalty or the desperate struggle for political relevance. The tragedy of a burning nation is not actually the destruction of its physical structures; rather, it is the erosion of public trust, the death of collective aspiration and the gradual loss of faith in the possibility of a better tomorrow. What Nigerians need now is leadership that understands that power is a responsibility, not a personal inheritance; that governance is about people, not political trophies; and that patriotism must be demonstrated through service, sacrifice and accountability more than political slogans, elaborate ceremonies and endless promises of illusive transformation. At no time in the history of this nation have despondency, desperation and dejection been boldly inscribed on the faces of Nigerians from Sokoto to Oyorokoto and from Badagri to Bakassi. A house on fire does not need occupants arguing over who owns the furniture. It needs people willing to put out the fire. Nigeria is aflame. The question is whether those entrusted with saving it recognise the flames, or are simply waiting to inherit the ashes. Another question is: have the victims of the current socioeconomic inferno realized that the dividing line in the society is socioeconomic, not religious, ethnicity and the other social malaises that are exploited by politicians so they would continue to exploit the nation and the masses? Two parting questions: Are those currently competing and jostling for public office and political power in Nigeria seeking to rescue the nation from those bent on sinking the ship of the Nigerian State or are they merely hustling to preside over it and further the ruins? Does Nigeria need people with capabilities, competence and character at the helm of affairs or bleeders who masquerade as leaders? These are the questions that should agitate the mind of every voter. Prof Osai writes from Port Harcourt