Before we rewrite recent history about Buhari and the media

By BASHIR ADEFAKA

Let me make something clear. Muhammadu Buhari does not need me to invent a perfect record for him. He does not need me to declare that every policy of his administration was successful. He does not need me to deny every criticism against him. Likewise, his critics do not need to invent an entirely dark history to make their case. The record should be enough. Where Buhari failed, say so. Where his administration succeeded, say so.

There is something deeply troubling about the ease with which Nigerians, particularly those of us in the media, periodically reinvent yesterday to serve today’s argument.

We remember selectively. We quote conveniently. We suppress uncomfortable details. Then, with remarkable confidence, we present our reconstructed version of events as history.

That is precisely why I am compelled to intervene in the current attempt to portray the Muhammadu Buhari administration as inherently hostile to the media, using the controversies surrounding AIT and Punch Newspaper as convenient exhibits.

Let us slow down. Let us interrogate the chronology. Let us separate journalism from political propaganda. And, above all, let us resist the temptation to turn political preference into historical fact.

At a forum of media proprietors of which I am a member, some colleagues recently sought to establish that Buhari was media-unfriendly. The argument rested substantially on the alleged restriction of AIT and the controversy involving Punch.

I listened. But I could not allow the narrative to pass without challenge.

I have also experienced, personally, the curious way political identity is now being allowed to dictate what journalists should publish.

The DEFENDER Newspaper published an article by an Igbo writer comparing the Buhari and Tinubu administrations from the perspective of Nigeria’s image before the international community. Because the article was critical of one administration and comparatively favourable to another, I was attacked from within as though publishing it amounted to betraying my Yoruba identity. That is an astonishing proposition.

Am I expected to shut down a media organisation that is the mainstay of my family’s economy because a writer made a comparison between the administration of a fellow Yoruba man who is currently President of Nigeria and that of a Fulani man who preceded him?

Is Yoruba identity now a professional censorship licence?

Must a journalist first consult his ethnic identity before deciding whether a story is publishable?

If that is where we are heading, then we should have the courage to admit that what we are defending is not journalism. It is ethnic journalism. And that is a dangerous road.

The Qur’an’s injunction to stand firmly for justice and truth, even when it is against one’s own interests, is particularly relevant here. Truth does not acquire a tribal identity. It does not become Yoruba when it favours a Yoruba man or Fulani when it favours a Fulani man.

Truth is truth.

Journalism must therefore be judged by the same standard.

WHO BANNED AIT — AND WHEN?

Let us begin with the most elementary question. When did Buhari ban AIT? The 2015 election was contested while Goodluck Jonathan was President. Buhari was the opposition candidate.

Therefore, anyone constructing a narrative that Buhari used presidential power to suppress AIT during the build-up to the 2015 election must first explain the chronology. This is not rocket science. It is history.

It was no secret that AIT’s political coverage during that period was viewed by Buhari’s supporters as aggressively hostile to him. It was equally no secret that Raymond Dokpesi, founder of DAAR Communications, was closely associated with the PDP and was a prominent supporter of the party.

The station’s coverage became part of the larger political battle.

Some of the broadcasts and reports concerning Buhari’s family, including material surrounding the death of his first daughter, were particularly controversial.

Here is where journalists must ask themselves an uncomfortable question: When does political journalism cease to be journalism and become political warfare?

A media organisation has every right to scrutinise a presidential candidate.

It has no professional licence to abandon fairness, dignity or evidence merely because the candidate belongs to the opposing political camp. That distinction matters.

There was subsequently an EFCC prosecution involving Raymond Dokpesi over alleged receipt of funds from the Office of the National Security Adviser during the Jonathan administration. The case became part of the wider investigation into alleged diversion of funds meant for national security. Those facts are part of the record.

But let us be intellectually honest enough not to stretch them beyond what the evidence establishes.

The point is not that every report broadcast by AIT was therefore false.

The point is that the political and financial environment in which the media operated during that period cannot simply be deleted from the historical account.

PUNCH: WAS THE PROBLEM THE WORD “GENERAL”?

Then comes Punch. I have heard the argument that Punch’s problem with Buhari was that it referred to him as “General.” That explanation does not withstand serious scrutiny on its face.

Buhari was a retired Major General. So what exactly was insulting about describing a retired Major General by his military rank? Would America be offended if a retired American General were described as General? Would Nigeria suddenly become offended because Buhari happened to be the President?

The question is not whether Punch was entitled to criticise Buhari. Of course it was. The question is whether the criticism was supported by evidence and whether the same professional standard was applied consistently. Consider the much-discussed headline: “BUHARI SPENT N30 BILLION TRAVELLING IN ONE YEAR.”

If the newspaper published that figure, then the next question for a serious journalist should have been: show us the arithmetic. Where did the N30 billion come from? How many foreign trips were involved? How many domestic trips? How many officials travelled with the President? How much was spent on accommodation? How much on estacode? How much on aircraft logistics? How does the figure compare with the preceding administration? How does it compare with subsequent administrations? That is journalism.

A sensational headline without sufficient interrogation of the underlying numbers is not investigative journalism merely because it is printed in capital letters.

And this is where our profession must look itself in the mirror.

If we demand transparency from government, we must also demonstrate transparency in our own claims.

If we demand accountability from politicians, our figures must be accountable too.

If we accuse government of propaganda, we must ensure that our own newsrooms do not become propaganda factories.

THE HYPOCRISY WE MUST CONFRONT

What troubles me most is not Buhari. It is the hypocrisy within the profession. Some journalists denounce political propaganda while becoming political operatives. Some condemn government patronage while negotiating for political patronage. Some complain that politicians are buying journalists while positioning themselves to collect from the same political class. And some suddenly discover the ethics of journalism only when the government in question is politically opposed to them.

That is not principle. That is convenience. The media cannot demand public trust while behaving as though professional standards are optional whenever political emotions become intense.

The 2027 political season will test this profession severely. Money will move. Promises will be made. Political actors will seek favourable coverage. Media organisations will face financial pressures. Individual journalists will be courted.

That is precisely when professional independence becomes most valuable. Not when it is convenient. Not when the opposition is in power. Not when our preferred candidate is being attacked. Always.

I WAS NOT READING THIS HISTORY FROM A DISTANCE

There is another reason I cannot simply sit back while people reconstruct this period from memory. I was there. The DEFENDER Newspaper’s Abuja Correspondent, Florence Israel, also had a eye in the Presidential Villa during the Buhari administration.

As a media executive, I was also a member of a security, intelligence and media committee-organised quarterly meeting involving senior representatives of the country’s security architecture and media establishment. We met quarterly at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa and, at various times, at the National Intelligence Agency (NIA).

I therefore know something about the media-government environment of that period beyond what can be gleaned from social-media arguments today.

AIT representatives were present in those engagements at various times.

Senior figures who understood the workings of the administration and the security establishment were also part of the environment.

That experience does not make my recollection infallible.

But neither should it be dismissed because it is inconvenient to a narrative someone has already decided to promote.

If we genuinely want to know what happened, let us ask those who were there.

Ask Femi Adesina.

Ask Garba Shehu.

Ask Lauretta Onochie.

Ask senior officials of the Department of State Services (DSS).

Ask the journalists who covered the Villa.

Ask the media executives who interacted with the administration.

Ask Punch.

Ask AIT.

Then place the answers side by side. That is how history is investigated. Not by shouting down anyone whose recollection complicates our preferred version.

I HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE

I learned early that firsthand testimony matters.

When VANGUARD assigned me to interview General Yakubu Gowon about Chinua Achebe’s book, There Was a Country, I told the former Head of State and Commander-in-Chief of the Nigerian Armed Forces something that remains true today: historians could interpret events, but a principal actor who lived through those events could provide a dimension that secondary accounts might not capture.

Gowon agreed. That encounter reinforced something important: history has witnesses. And witnesses should not be replaced by political storytellers simply because the latter have better social-media reach.

BUHARI DOES NOT NEED JOURNALISTS TO INVENT HIS RECORD

Let me make something clear. Muhammadu Buhari does not need me to invent a perfect record for him. He does not need me to declare that every policy of his administration was successful. He does not need me to deny every criticism against him.

Likewise, his critics do not need to invent an entirely dark history to make their case. The record should be enough. Where Buhari failed, say so. Where his administration succeeded, say so.

Where AIT’s journalism was legitimate scrutiny, defend it. Where it crossed professional boundaries, say so.

Where Punch exposed genuine wrongdoing, give it credit. Where its journalism deserves scrutiny, scrutinise it.

And apply exactly the same standard to Jonathan. Apply it to Tinubu. Apply it to every government. Otherwise, what we are practising is not journalism. It is partisan communication.

BEFORE WE REWRITE YESTERDAY

I am Yoruba man. That does not make Tinubu infallible. I am a media proprietor. That does not make The DEFENDER infallible. I have had access to people in government. That does not make government infallible.

And because I once served as an attendee of a presidential committee-organised quarterly meeting of security, intelligence and media executives involving powerful institutions, that does not give me the right to manufacture facts.

It does, however, give me the responsibility to challenge convenient distortions when I encounter them.

The tragedy of Nigeria is not simply that politicians manipulate history. It is that sometimes journalists help them do it.

We cannot allow ethnicity to determine our journalism. We cannot allow political affiliation to determine our facts. We cannot allow financial desperation to determine our principles.

And we cannot allow the passage of time to turn contested political narratives into unquestioned historical facts.

Let us disagree about Buhari. Let us disagree about Jonathan. Let us disagree about Tinubu. Let us disagree about AIT and Punch.

But let us not disagree with the facts. Because once journalists begin choosing their facts according to the identity of the person involved, the profession has already lost something more valuable than access to government.

It has lost its soul.