Why Many Protests Fail
THIS JOURNAL BELONGS TO
ERNEST DANJUMA ENEBI
Avoiding the trap of optical victories in lieu of tangible ones in the #ENDSARS protest.
In light of the grand proclamations of the “historic” nature of the #EndSARS movement and the declarations that the “youth have awoken”, I worry this amounts to fantasizing about the reformed country that has eluded us for generations.
11 MINS READ TIME
When I originally started writing this piece a week ago, protests to disband the controversial Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) which had popped up in states across Nigeria and a few cities around the world were starting to lose steam. It was conceived as a cautionary tale for #EndSARS protesters whose rhetoric I worried risked suppressing the nascent movement. I thought the lack of historical context and the indictment of previous generations for cowardice and complicity in the ills that plagued the country was problematic. That frustration was quickly eclipsed by my anger and rage at the brutal assault on peaceful protesters (most notably at the Lekki Toll Gate) carried out on the night of October 20th, by forces of the Nigerian Military at the behest of the President and Commander-in-Chief Muhammadu Buhari.
On the eve of the scheduled release of the article, the President who had previously declined to activate the military inexplicably relented and ordered troops to engage peaceful #endSARS protesters around the country. The sight of armed military troops and police officers firing over and into a crowd of protesters peacefully defying the hastily concocted 24 curfew, was reminiscent of the era of military dictators. The resulting death and destruction broadcast live on Instagram Live by DJ Switch. What seemed like a (mis)calculated attempt to intimidate and terrorize protesters into silence, had the opposite effect — growing mayhem, widespread destruction and protracted international coverage. In effect resurrecting and immortalizing a movement that was otherwise losing steam.
I considered scrapping the original article in favor of an entirely new one since the dynamics had changed, but as more young people study the history of protests in Nigeria and listen to the voices they previously dismissed, I decided to adapt it. While no one could or should have anticipated the events of October 20th, I believe this piece and our history could offer some ideas that could prepare us for what to expect next and how to deal with it.
So here is the piece in its entirety.
After the George Floyd protests against police brutality in the U.S city of Minneapolis, MN spread to all 50 United states and countries around the world, “Black Lives Matter” was declared the largest movement in history. Looking purely at the staggering numbers and its age, racial, gender and national diversity, that may well have been the case. But after the US House of Representatives’ police reform bill dubbed the “George Floyd: Justice in Policing Act” stalled in the US Senate in late June, so did any hopes of a Federal comprehensive police reform bill. Months of worldwide protests had in effect yielded largely cosmetic reforms in a handful of cities and states. Bans on chokeholds and the use of teargas in California, New York and a few other cities, a ban on no knock warrants in Louisville Kentucky where Breonna Taylor was killed, as well as mandating body cameras in Seattle, Denver and a few other localities. But the most glaring changes were the “Black Lives Matter” art works emblazoned into city streets across the country, most notably the plaza leading up to the White House in Washington DC and in front of the Presidents New York City residence.
Following the release of a video showing the brutal assault of a citizen by an officer of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) unit of the Nigerian Police Force, protests broke out in Nigeria’s commercial capital Lagos calling for the dissolution of the special police unit which has a notorious reputation for extortion, robbery, assaults and other crimes on the citizens its sworn to protect. The protests soon spread to many parts of the country and caught the attention of the international media. There have since been protests in New York, Washington DC, London England and several other cities around the world with numerous celebrities and public figures like Bernice A. King — the daughter of civil rights icon Martin Luther King Jr. and Jack Dorsey — CEO of Twitter, tweeting their support. By any stretch of the imagination the size, scope, energy, commitment, the grit and the organization of the #EndSARS movement as it has been dubbed, has been impressive. However, there are a few similarities and some unique trends that I fear might make it meet the same end as the George Floyd protests, unless a few things happen — the missing historical context of the protests in Nigeria, the sowing of generational division and the premature declaration of success.
From the onset of these latest round of #EndSARS protests which began in 2016, there has been consistent messaging about the historic nature of the protests, mostly because it’s been led by young women and men, many of whom who were engaging in civil disobedience for the first time. While fair minded people can disagree on means and methods, I think there’s near unanimity in the acknowledgement that when young people lead the protests for the future, it is a beautiful thing. While I get the need to hyperbolize protests to encourage young people to participate, I’ve realized that it has started to devolve into generational warfare. With people indicting prior generations as the architects and enablers of the problems that plague Nigeria, and the Generation Z as the heroes who have now taken up the mantle to fix it. I think it is important to understand that while the international media has largely ignored protests of Nigerians in the past, we have a deep legacy of activists.
From the Aba Womens March of 1929 against taxation without representation, which saw market women in Owerri and Calabar protest against unfair taxation by the British Colonial rulers to the Abeokuta Womens Union protests of 1948 which formed part of the basis for eventual Independence in 1960, every generation has marched, protested, sacrificed and died for Nigeria. In the process securing many of the gains we now enjoy and quite frankly take for granted. 150,000 civil servants participated in the 1945 labor strike for minimum wage, a different generation protested the killing of journalist Dele Giwa in 1986 seen as an attack on the free press. Yet another demanded an end to the military rule in the early 1990’s and returned to the streets when Military head of state General Babangida annulled the June 12, 1993 elections. Three years later they protested the killing of Kudirat Abiola, a fearless advocate for democracy and the wife of the winner of the afore mentioned annulled 1993 elections who had been jailed. More recently, hundreds of thousands of Nigerians flooded the streets in 2012 to protest the abrupt hike in fuel prices in a movement known as #OccupyNigeria. They returned 2 years later with #BringBackourGirls, demanding the safe return of about 300 secondary school girls abducted by terrorist group Boko Haram in Chibok, Borno. While these latest rounds of protests have garnered immense international attention; thanks in no small part to the ingenuity and savvy use of Social media by community organizers, it is important to remember that there have been protests in our history that have shaped the trajectory of the country and while those gains are clearly nowhere near complete it is incumbent on young protesters, movement leaders and those charged with documenting it for posterity to understand that people came before them and accomplished amazing feats in the face of untold danger.
While it is important to honor their sacrifices, acknowledge their successes, learn from their shortcomings and channel our frustration into finishing the job they started, it is also imperative to understand why most of them fall short of their goals. In her landmark study of the relationship between dreams, actions and outcomes which she chronicles in her book Rethinking Positive Thinking: Inside the New Science of Motivation, psychologist Gabriele Oettingen found that contrary to the self-help consensus, positive thinking has the counterintuitive effect of draining energy away from putting our goals into practice. Oettingen in her study found that dieters, students, job seekers, love seekers, people recovering from physical injuries, and other strivers who had stronger, more positive desires about reaching their goals were actually less likely to achieve them. They lost fewer pounds, had worse grades, received fewer job offers, stayed lonely longer, took longer to recover from injuries, not because they didn’t have the will or the means to achieve their goals, but because when people entertain positive thoughts about the ideal future state, they can feel as if they have already achieved their goal. She also found that they didn’t accurately account for the impediments that stood in the way of achieving their fantasies and so were ill equipped to surmount them when they encountered obstacles.
In light of the grand proclamations of the “historic” nature of the #endSARS movement and the declarations that the “youth have awoken”, I worry this amounts to fantasizing about the reformed country that has eluded us for so generations. If Oettingen’s study about Fantasy Realization Theory and quite frankly our vicious cycle of incremental progress and then enduring significant setbacks, is anything to go by, we have a better chance of achieving lasting progress if we wisely regulate the pursuit of our common goal by identifying the obstacles within ourselves (NOT THE OUTSIDE FACTORS) that impede achieving the desired outcome and developing a plan to subvert them. She suggests a way to accomplish this. A concept she calls WOOP or “Wish Outcome Obstacle Plan”. Identify the Wish (police reform), envision the desired Outcome (a just society where police brutality is a thing of the past), imagine the Obstacles within ourselves, in this case our collective obstacle (protest fatigue, division, disagreements, leadership struggles, LIFE) and devise a Plan of action for when those obstacles surface.
There is no doubt that this moment presents a renewed opportunity to achieve lasting change in Nigeria, but to seize the moment, we must understand a few things. We are stronger when we build a multi-generational, ethnic, socio-economic, global coalition. Antagonizing these groups and shaming public figures into joining the movement only breeds performative (black square) allyship. It has to be built purely on a mutual desire for a just world. We must resist the urge to spike the ball before the end zone (prematurely declare victory). We must resist the urge to celebrate hollow victories like crowd sizes, and crown the “heroes of the movement” before the movement has achieved concrete gains. Instead we must keep our eyes on the prize and continue to press forward with our demands. We must do it with due deference to the activists who came before us, and last but not least we must do it not for individual or collective recognition, but because the moment demands it and it is our job as Citizens to fix our country. These words coming from an old washed up, out of touch millennial/ Generation Y man residing in the diaspora no less will likely fall on deaf ears, maybe even met with scorn and disdain in the heat of battle, but even that is a feature and not a bug of youth-led movements, that needs rethinking.
In light of the massacre of Oct 20, 2020 I believe it’s important for young people, whose spirits have been shaken but hopefully not shattered, to know that we’ve been here before. A few too many times unfortunately. A new generation is just finally learning why their older siblings, aunts, uncles and parents opted for a more pragmatic approach and work on incremental change as opposed to a wholesale overhaul of the system. It wasn’t because they were cowards as I’ve heard some vocal critics on twitter claim, they were definitely braver and more generous than we could ever dream of being. The dejection is normal, unfortunately so is returning to the status-quo after a traumatic event like we’ve just witnessed. One thing is clear, what young women and men did in October, 2020 will forever be part of the force that shaped Nigeria and Africa for the better. But that can quickly be forgotten as we saw during these protests. What we do going forward is what determines not only the size and speed of the change they fought for, but whether this moment becomes a movement.