chief Abiola assured him that he would not be seeking to reclaim his mandate.
NaijaPundit brings you excerpts from the book below:
On the Abiola saga, Annan wrote:
“Moshood Abiola had been imprisoned and in solitary confinement since
1994. Previously he had been a millionaire businessman reveling in the
most extravagant of lifestyles, acquired through a long-standing and
close relationship with Nigeria’s military governments.
“But in 1993, there was a short-lived
attempt to introduce democracy, and Abiola entered the presidential
race. When Abiola looked entirely set to win, the final and full count
was never allowed by the reigning military government of President
Ibrahim Babangida, even though he had set up the elections in the first
place. “Abiola backed down quietly, but the vote changed his
relationship with the government. He had acquired an unprecedented swell
of support from many sides of the ethnic and religious divides that
criss-crossed Africa’s most populous country.
“When President Babangida was ousted
from power and replaced by General Sani Abacha later that year, in the
midst of Nigeria’s deepening financial crisis, the new president
dissolved the institutions that had been formed to move the country
toward a semblance of democracy—the parliament, the thirty state
governments, and every single local council—and declared all political
parties illegal.
“But in the unfolding chaos of Abacha’s
rule, Abiola stepped forward in 1994 and, on the basis of the thwarted
1993 elections, announced to a huge crowd of supporters in Lagos that he
was the legitimate president of Nigeria.
“He was immediately arrested and charged
with treason and spent the next four years in solitary confinement.
During this time, he was denied access to even radio, saw no one from
his family from 1995 onward, was unable to talk to anyone else, and was
shown only one newspaper article: a report on the assassination of one
of his wives in 1996. The only other reading materials he had were a
Bible and a Koran.
“Abacha was as illegitimate a ruler as
one might have the misfortune to come across—extremely corrupt, and
prone to eccentric and self-indulgent behaviour on a scale that only
Nigeria’s crony-capitalist oil wealth could sustain.
“He loosely promised the return to
democratic elections, including one to me personally after I became
secretary-general in 1997, but persistently reneged on such pledges.
Opponents and suspected opponents were arrested, and the ranks of
political prisoners swelled, as did the number of victims of politically
motivated murders at the hands of security forces.
“But on June 8, 1998, Abacha
unexpectedly died. General Abdulsalami Abubakar was installed as his
replacement the next day. I had met Abubakar previously, when he was
accompanying Abacha at a summit in Lome, Togo, in January 1997. He had
once served as a UN peacekeeping officer as part of the UN Interim Force
in Lebanon, so we had a common past in peacekeeping which I used to get
us talking. “I found him reasonable in outlook and straight speaking,
in contrast to the strange, quiet character of Abacha. At one point,
when the president left the room, I pressed upon Abubakar the importance
of releasing political prisoners. Abacha had only sighed away my
repeated calls for greater freedoms and introduction of democracy, and I
hoped influencing his advisers might at least increase the pressure
upon the Nigerian president.
“But now Abubakar was president, and he,
as he later revealed to me, was scared. The country was entirely
isolated internationally after repeatedly refusing to change its
political course or release political prisoners, and could count on
little outside help; it was in a terrible financial position with a
crippling high debt; Abacha had antagonised the country’s power bases,
which had brought growing unrest and violence onto the streets; the
military (dominated by the Hausa ethnic group) was used to its
privileged position in society and was not going to give this up easily;
and while Abubakar recognised the necessity of democracy to ensure the
country’s political sustainability, a mismanaged and sudden introduction
of elections could bring even more instability.
“Abacha had disingenuously set the date
of October 1, 1998, for a transition to democracy, which, everyone
agreed, he fully intended to miss. But Abubakar, with his more genuine
agenda, was now beholden to this deadline. One way or another, he needed
a carefully managed way out of this very difficult situation.
“Part of the problem for Abubakar was
how to deal with the imprisoned Abiola. If released, he could still
upend the political balance in the country if he demanded the presidency
as he had before. Such a move would be backed by his mainstay of
supporters in the South-west of the country, but almost certainly
rejected by the military…A few weeks after Abubakar came to power—on
June 22, 1998, at 3.30 pm—I had one of these sessions with Nigeria’s
foreign minister, Tom Ikimi.
“He conveyed Abubakar’s message: The
president hoped I could help him exploit the current opportunity
provided by Abacha’s death, Ikimi said, to assist his plan to move
Nigeria out of its current predicament. He wanted to return Nigerian to a
position of reasonable standing in the region and internationally, to
end the country’s misrule, and to usher in democracy. But he also wanted
to extend the timetable for elections to ease the process of change—and
he wanted my public support for this.
“Ikimi’s style was unrecognisable in
comparison to the one he had displayed while serving Abacha. Previously,
he had lectured me and others, at length, on how the internal affairs
of Nigeria were solely the government’s business. That bold front was
now giving way to realism: a recognition of the truly interdependent
world of which Nigeria was a part.
“My first thought concerned Abiola. He
could not be a casualty of this transition, or it would not be a
transition at all. He had but won the first real attempt at democratic
elections, retained significant support, and his imprisonment had caused
him to become a symbol for those demanding political change in the
country. Continuing to imprison him would mean the antithesis of any
progress toward genuine democracy and the rule of law.
“‘I’m willing to publicly give my
approval for the president’s plan,’ I said, as Ikimi’s eyes visibly lit
up. ‘But only if Abiola is released.’ Ikimi looked taken aback. But he
replied that if I came to Abuja personally to voice my support of
Abubakar’s election proposals, then Abiola could be released. I accepted
the invitation to visit.
“I would play whatever small role I
could to aid the end of a military dictatorship; particularly in
Nigeria, which had suffered enough from military rule, after an
exhausting series of coups that had ridden roughshod over the country
since 1960.
“Due to my flight schedule, we flew on
June 29 to Abuja from Vienna on a plane provided by the Nigerian
government. They were keen for us to come, as it was a brand-new and
lavishly furnished aircraft, designed for the president’s use. On
arrival, I met with President Abubakar to discuss the situation. He
emphasised everything Ikimi had said in New York, and I pushed him to
move on his promises, to open up the political system and to bring in
civil society, to build the momentum in his favour in order to keep the
country on course.
“He replied positively but said the
October 1 date for a transition to democracy was too soon for credible
elections. I counseled him that if he postponed the date, he would have
to publicly provide a new and detailed timetable and communicate clearly
to everyone why this delay was necessary. I also reminded him that
Abiola needed to be released if he was to obtain international
goodwill—and mine.
“On this Abubakar wavered slightly. He
pledged his willingness to release Abiola immediately, but under the
condition that he made no attempt to reclaim the presidency. I could see
the general’s concerns: if Abiola came out and demanded to be instated
as president, it could cause a deep and violent split that, given the
fragile conditions, could take the country to goodness knows where.
Abiola’s release was necessary, but it also needed to be a calm process.
“I asked if I could see Abiola, to
discuss this problem, and Abubakar said it would be arranged. It was
later that night that Lamin heard the knock on his door, and we found
ourselves speeding along Abuja’s dark roads to Abiola’s current holding
place. We pulled up at a location near the presidential palace, and
sullen guards walked us inside the guest house-like building into a
simple, bare room with white walls, where I found him sitting quietly.
“After exchanging greetings, I explained
that I was in discussions with the president and the junta concerning
current developments in Nigeria, and I was pressing them for his
release. He seemed remarkably ambivalent. I asked if he wanted to claim
the presidency once he was out, which I told him I was confident would
happen very soon.
“He said he was not sure, commenting
that the junta would be afraid if he did. He seemed to be hedging his
bets, not wanting to be drawn into a firm answer. Suddenly, he switched
his interest and asked, ‘But who are you?’
“‘I’m Kofi Annan,’ I replied. ‘I’m the
secretary-general of the United Nations.’ “‘What happened to the other
one? The Egyptian?’ He said, surprised. I had mistakenly assumed that
Abiola had been told who was coming to see him and why. All he had been
told was that an ‘important person’ would visit. It was amazing the
isolation in which this man had been kept—the regime was so used to
keeping him in the dark, they maintained his ignorance of anything going
on outside even now.
“Once he realised who I was, he became
more enthusiastic. He also became more explicit regarding his plans. He
said he had no intention of claiming the presidency. All he wanted was
go to Mecca to pray and give thanks. But he emphasised that he would
make no commitment in writing. If he did so, he felt this would destroy
his reputation. But he said he was willing to give the same assurance to
President Abubakar.
“I conveyed this assurance to Abubakar
the next day, but he was still hesitant. I explained that a free Abiola,
who had no interest in upsetting the situation, would be a calming
influence on his supporters, not an agitating one. I then told him that I
would be announcing in my departing speech to the press that the
president had promised me he would release Abiola and the other
prisoners very soon. Whether this speech reinforced his credibility or
undermined it would now depend upon him.
“In the ensuing press conference, given
shortly before our flight out of the country, I did as promised. But I
also revealed that Abiola had, indeed, told me that he had no intention
of claiming any right to the presidency, further removing any
justification Abubakar held for not releasing him and also smoothing the
path ahead with Abiola’s more hardline supporters. I was also trying to
ease the concerns of those Nigerians who feared Abiola’s return.
“On our return journey, everything
seemed set for Abiola’s release. But tragedy struck a week later when
Abiola collapsed and died during a meeting with U.S. Under-Secretary of
State Thomas Pickering. Despite the earnest intentions we had detected
in Abubakar, the timing could only be considered suspicious.
“However, an international team of
pathologists established that it was the result of heart condition, and
there was no foul play—other than the fact, I thought that Abiola had
been denied adequate medical care throughout his incarceration. Either
way, he was yet another casualty of the systematic violations of a whole
range of human rights that are inevitable under personalised and
oppressive regimes.
“On leaving the country after the final
press conference, we found the Nigerians had lent us a very different
airplane than the one in which we arrived. It was old, run-down, and did
not look entirely safe. On seeing it, Kieran Prendergast, my insightful
and witty under-secretary-general for political affairs, turned to me,
laughing through his beard: ‘Well, you’ve done what they needed you for.
Who cares about you now?’ Indeed, within fifteen minutes of taking off,
the flaps jammed in a mechanical failure, and the pilot told us that we
had to return and change aircraft…”
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