By Adamu Aminu
Consensus is often presented as a remedy for discord within Nigeria’s political parties. It is framed as a way to avoid divisive primaries, create a quick appearance of unity, and project stability before general elections. In practice, however, consensus frequently sidelines credible aspirants and elevates candidates backed by political elites.
What is presented as harmony often masks exclusion, and exclusion breeds resentment.
This pattern repeats across the federation. Aspirants with grassroots support are set aside, while those with powerful backers are installed. Even so, some parties have managed the process better. In these cases, outcomes have received open public support, including standing ovations from members.
Credible candidates with proven credentials have also emerged through consensus or through physical primaries, including in areas where earlier attempts at primaries had failed. The difference lies in the process.
When selection is transparent and participatory, the outcome gains legitimacy. When it is not, grievance follows.
Many aspirants who assumed that cordial exchanges in Abuja reflected genuine political alignment have found otherwise. Political trust is often performative rather than substantive. In practice, consensus becomes less about agreement and more about imposition.
The process may appear orderly on the surface, but it leaves lasting grievances that surface later, often at the most critical time.
The general elections expose these contradictions. Every vote matters, and every faction can influence the outcome. Consensus can produce a candidate, but it does not guarantee loyalty. Those excluded often respond with quiet resistance through defections, sabotage, or reduced mobilization when support is needed most.
Anti-party activity is not a minor issue. It weakens a party’s electoral strength and creates openings for opponents. When consensus is used as a tool of exclusion, unity becomes a façade and stability becomes uncertain.
Institutionally, parties must address this paradox. Consensus can stabilize a party, but only if it reflects genuine consultation rather than elite decision-making. Without that, it becomes theatre. Public agreement is presented on stage, while contestation continues behind it.
Sidelining credible aspirants also weakens legitimacy, and legitimacy is essential to democratic credibility. Without it, consensus is an empty term and a fragile strategy that fails under electoral pressure.
The implication is clear. A party that prioritizes convenience over credibility risks losing both elections and public trust. Politics is not only about winning. It also requires fairness, inclusion, and trust. When consensus serves only the privileged, it erodes the moral basis of the system.
When anti-party behavior increases, it is less an isolated act of rebellion and more a sign of deeper problems in internal democracy. These problems include weak dispute resolution, poor communication, and a culture of impunity in candidate selection.
Nigerian parties now face a clear choice. They can continue to use consensus as a formality, or they can reform it into a genuine mechanism for unity. Reform would require clear rules, documented consultation, and measurable criteria for candidate selection. It would also require enforcement mechanisms that apply equally to all members, regardless of status.
If parties fail to reform, they may find that consensus without accountability produces little beyond procedural outcomes. The appearance of unity may hold until votes are counted. After that, the absence of cohesion and trust becomes evident. In competitive elections, that absence is costly.
Ultimately, the question is not whether consensus has a place in party politics. It does, and it can reduce unnecessary conflict.
The bone of contention is whether consensus is used to build the party or to shield a narrow group within it.
Adamu Aminu writes from Kano