Pardon. An act so seemingly innocuous it should never be controversial. Yet, recently, a state pardon provoked public opprobrium in Nigeria. Why? Because it was wrapped in crude politics and stripped of morality. Pardons are like gifts: they have a deceptive innocence. For instance, gifts are rooted in customs and tradition, but they are also associated with bribery and corruption. Similarly, a presidential pardon loses its moral anchor when it is steeped in impunity and abuse of power. Hence President Bola Tinubu’s recent decision to pardon 175 people, most convicted of serious crimes, rightly triggered a spontaneous public outrage.
However, last week, the president did a remarkable U-turn by removing those convicted of serious crimes, such as kidnapping, drug-related offences, human trafficking and fraud from the original list of pardonees. It’s a welcomed about-turn but nonetheless embarrassing because the controversial pardons should not have happened in the first place.
Of course, the president has the power, under section 175 of the 1999 Constitution, to grant state pardons. But while the pardoning power is discretionary, there are reasonable expectations that its exercise would not be arbitrary. State pardons should be governed not only by the principle of mercy but also the principles of fairness and justice. Furthermore, they should not be politically motivated but based on objective standards.
Read also: Onanuga: Tinubu’s reversal on pardon list shows strength, not weakness
For instance, in granting a presidential pardon, due considerations should be given to the following factors. Has sufficient justice been done? Has the interest of the victim been duly served? Would the pardon have a negative impact on society at large in the sense of undermining societal values and public morality? And what impact would it have on a country’s reputation? What message would the pardon send to the world about a country’s values and moral standards? Sadly, President Tinubu blatantly ignored these critical factors in granting the deeply controversial state pardons.
In his reaction, the renowned Human Rights lawyer, Femi Falana SAN, called on the Federal Government to “withdraw and review the list of pardonees without any delay in the interest of justice and national morality.” His reason? “The list of pardonees includes convicted politically exposed persons, drug addicts and barons, armed robbers and terrorists, as well as persons convicted for contravening state offences like culpable homicide, murder, obtaining by false pretences.” Surely, these are the kinds of crime for which a government should not signal condonement by rewarding convicts with pardons that undermine public morality.
But why did President Tinubu consider it appropriate to grant “full pardon” to drug barons, murderers, terrorists, human traffickers and those convicted of fraudulent and corrupt practices? If leniency was his motivation, he could have commuted their sentences instead of forgiving the crimes. There must be logic or rationality behind every state pardon so as not to undermine public confidence in the fairness and integrity of the criminal justice system. Alas, there was no logic, no rationality, no objective standard behind most of the pardons published in the original list published by the presidency.
“He condemned the unconstrained powers of the president while in opposition, but in power, akin to what the sociologist Robert Michels described as the “iron grip of oligarchy”, he is ruthlessly exercising those powers.”
Take the case of Maryam Sanda who was sentenced to death for killing her husband, Bilyaminu Bello, seven years ago. Instead of commuting her death sentence to life imprisonment or even a significantly long years in prison, President Tinubu granted her full pardon because she “had spent six years” in prison and showed “good conduct in jail”. Is six years in jail and good conduct a sufficient enough justice or punishment for killing her husband, thus meriting a full pardon? Little wonder the family of the late Bello described Sanda’s full presidential pardon as “the worst possible injustice any family could be made to go through.” The victim’s interest was not duly served.
Well, we must return to the question: Why did Tinubu do it? One reason is that he enjoys exercising unfettered presidential powers. The Nigerian Constitution confers unconstrained powers on the president, and Tinubu has no qualms in exploiting the full panoply of those powers and even extending their boundaries. He condemned the unconstrained powers of the president while in opposition, but in power, akin to what the sociologist Robert Michels described as the “iron grip of oligarchy”, he is ruthlessly exercising those powers.
The second reason is political motivations. Tinubu is a calculative politician to the core and does everything with self-interested political calculations. In a State House statement announcing the presidential pardons, Bayo Onanuga, President Tinubu’s spokesperson, described the pardons as “President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s mercy”, suggesting that Tinubu owns the pardons as a personalised act, not as something done with wider considerations in mind. Surely, a president who grants state pardons as an act of personal mercy must hope that the citizens would view him as a compassionate leader, who cares for and about the people.
However, Nigerians did not see the presidential pardons in those terms; rather, they saw it as an act of impunity, an abuse of presidential powers. The reactions rattled the presidency, forcing the Attorney-General and Minister of Justice, Lateef Fagbemi, to announce a review of the pardons. He reportedly ordered a multi-agency review and asked the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, EFCC, the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency, NDLEA, and the police to do a “detailed review to ensure all names comply with legal and procedural standards.”
Yet, in an article titled “Much ado about a presidential pardon”, Tunde Rahman, President Tinubu’s senior media assistant, carpeted critics for misconstruing the “well-intentioned actions of the government”. But when well-intentioned actions turn morality and justice on their heads, they stop being well intentioned; they become enablers of immorality and injustice, thereby eroding public trust.
Read also: Why a review of the recent presidential pardon exercise is a must
To be sure, presidential pardons are universally controversial. Then-President Goodluck Jonathan’s pardon, in 2013, of his former boss and political mentor, Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, former governor of Bayelsa, who was convicted of embezzling public funds, was controversial and widely condemned. Then-President Muhammadu Buhari’s pardon of Governors Joshua Dariye and Jolly Nyame, both convicted and jailed for corruption, in 2022 was deemed politically motivated and widely criticised. In the US, the presidential pardoning power is routinely abused, with presidents using their last days in office to grant pardons to convicted friends and relatives.
However, President Tinubu’s previously announced state pardons were particularly wrong-headed because, for a deeply corrupt, drug-infested and crime-ridden country, granting state pardons to drug barons, terrorists, murderers, human traffickers and fraudsters reinforces Nigeria’s decadent moral values. The Constitution rightly gives the president the power to grant state pardons. But the power should be used to strengthen public morality and justice, not to undermine them. President Tinubu’s original state pardons failed that test.
So, last week’s U-turn was right. Yet, it’s utterly embarrassing because the president should not have asked the Council of State to approve such state pardons in the first place. The president’s reversal of the pardons was clearly an afterthought, driven by public outrage, not by a moral compass. Utterly perverse!
