The controversy generated by the recent judgment reportedly directing the deregistration of the African Democratic Congress (ADC), Accord Party and several other political parties has moved beyond the confines of legal discourse. It has become a national conversation touching on the future of opposition politics, the integrity of judicial institutions and the resilience of Nigeria’s constitutional democracy.
As expected, public opinion has been sharply divided.
To some observers, the judgment represents a legitimate application of Section 225A of the Constitution, a long-overdue effort to sanitise the political landscape by removing parties that have failed to demonstrate minimal electoral relevance. To others, it signals a dangerous narrowing of democratic space and reinforces concerns that opposition politics is increasingly vulnerable to institutional pressures.
The truth, as is often the case in constitutional controversies, lies somewhere between these competing narratives.
There should be no serious disagreement regarding the constitutional framework itself. Section 225A of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria empowers the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) to deregister political parties that fail to meet prescribed electoral thresholds. The provision emerged from the Fourth Alteration to the Constitution and was intended to address the proliferation of political parties that existed largely on paper, contributed little to democratic competition and complicated electoral administration.
The Supreme Court has affirmed the validity of that constitutional arrangement.
Consequently, it would be intellectually dishonest to suggest that deregistration, in and of itself, is unconstitutional. The Constitution contemplates circumstances under which political parties may cease to exist as legal entities. Constitutional democracy requires fidelity not only to rights but also to responsibilities.
However, acknowledging the existence of constitutional power is not the same as endorsing every exercise of that power.
The controversy surrounding this judgment does not arise because Section 225A exists. It arises because of serious questions regarding whether the constitutional provision was correctly applied to the facts before the court and whether the proceedings leading to the judgment complied with fundamental principles governing the administration of justice.
The constitutional threshold established under Section 225A is remarkably modest. A political party need not dominate the national political landscape to justify its continued existence. It need only demonstrate minimal electoral viability. The Constitution requires no more.
This is why the reported facts surrounding the African Democratic Congress are so significant.
Public records from the 2023 general elections indicate that the ADC secured representation in the House of Representatives and won seats in various State Houses of Assembly. If those electoral outcomes were acknowledged by INEC in the proceedings before the court, then an unavoidable legal question emerges: how does a political party that appears to have satisfied the constitutional threshold become constitutionally non-compliant?
The answer cannot simply be assumed.
The legitimacy of judicial reasoning depends upon its ability to reconcile legal conclusions with established facts. Constitutional interpretation cannot transform electoral victories into constitutional deficiencies. If there exists a legal basis for arriving at such a conclusion, that basis must be articulated clearly and convincingly.
Equally important is the issue of locus standi.
Standing is often dismissed as a technical legal doctrine understood only by lawyers. In reality, it is one of the mechanisms through which constitutional democracies protect the integrity of judicial power. Courts exist to resolve genuine disputes brought by parties with legally recognisable interests in the matters before them. They are not designed to serve as arenas for abstract political contests or ideological campaigns.
It is therefore entirely legitimate to ask: who were the plaintiffs in this case, and what legal injury had they suffered?
How were their rights affected by the continued existence of the affected political parties?
What was the nature of the interest that entitled them to seek judicial orders effectively extinguishing the legal personality of political organisations recognised under the Constitution?
These are not peripheral questions.
They are jurisdictional questions.
And jurisdiction remains the foundation upon which every valid judicial proceeding rests.
This aspect of the controversy invites a broader historical reflection.
Those old enough to remember the political crises of the early 1990s will recall the role played by the Association for Better Nigeria. Acting ostensibly in the national interest, that organisation became associated with one of the most regrettable episodes in Nigeria’s democratic history. Through legal and political interventions, it contributed to developments that frustrated the democratic aspirations embodied in the June 12 election.
History should never be invoked carelessly. The circumstances of today are different, and simplistic comparisons often obscure more than they illuminate.
Yet history serves an important purpose.
It reminds us that threats to democratic development do not always emerge through direct executive action. Sometimes they arise through the activities of private actors who seek judicial outcomes capable of restricting rather than expanding democratic choice. The lesson is not that citizens should be discouraged from approaching the courts. Rather, it is that courts must exercise exceptional caution whenever they are invited by private litigants to reshape the democratic landscape itself.
The preservation of democracy requires vigilance not only against executive overreach but also against the misuse of otherwise legitimate institutional processes.
Perhaps the most troubling dimension of this entire controversy, however, concerns reports that the Court of Appeal had already intervened in the matter prior to the delivery of the judgment.
According to publicly available reports, the appellate court had granted an order staying further proceedings pending the hearing and determination of an appeal arising from the suit. If those reports accurately reflect the procedural history of this case, then the implications are profound.
The hierarchy of courts is not an administrative convenience. It is a constitutional necessity.
The rule of law depends upon consistency, predictability and institutional discipline. Superior courts issue binding directives because the legal system cannot function effectively if subordinate courts operate independently of appellate supervision.
Orders of superior courts are not advisory opinions.
They are commands that derive their authority from the constitutional structure itself.
If a lower court proceeds in circumstances where a superior court has directed otherwise, difficult questions inevitably arise. The issue ceases to be merely whether a particular party won or lost a case. Instead, attention shifts to the integrity of the judicial process and the continued effectiveness of safeguards designed to preserve public confidence in the administration of justice.
This is why the implications of this judgment extend far beyond the fortunes of the ADC, Accord Party or any other affected political organisation.
They concern judicial propriety.
They concern institutional discipline.
They concern the credibility of constitutional governance.
There is also a broader political reality that should not be ignored.
Whether fairly or unfairly, actions affecting opposition parties invariably shape public perceptions regarding the openness of democratic competition. Democracies derive legitimacy not only from constitutional text but also from the confidence of citizens that political contests are conducted on a level playing field.
Strong governments generally seek validation through electoral success.
They organise.
They persuade.
They campaign.
They compete.
They trust the electorate.
Opposition parties are not inconveniences to be eliminated. They are indispensable components of democratic life. Their existence compels accountability, stimulates public debate and offers citizens alternative visions of governance.
Consequently, whenever developments create the appearance that political alternatives are being diminished through institutional mechanisms rather than democratic competition, a troubling perception emerges.
The perception is not one of confidence. It is one of insecurity. It is one of weekness.
Whether that perception accurately reflects reality is, in some respects, secondary. Perceptions influence legitimacy, and legitimacy remains essential to democratic stability.
This observation is not intended as an accusation against any political party or institution. Rather, it is a recognition of political reality. Governments confident in their popular mandate generally welcome the opportunity to demonstrate that confidence at the ballot box.
The existence of opposition should never provoke institutional anxiety.
It should inspire political engagement.
None of these observations should be understood as suggesting that political parties ought to remain registered indefinitely irrespective of constitutional requirements. If a political party genuinely fails to satisfy the standards prescribed by the Constitution, deregistration becomes an inevitable legal consequence.
Constitutional provisions are binding precisely because they apply even when their outcomes are inconvenient.
However, constitutional outcomes must emerge through constitutional processes.
The legitimacy of a destination cannot compensate for defects in the journey.
This is why appellate review has become so important.
The appellate courts must determine whether the affected parties satisfied the requirements of Section 225A. They must address the issue of standing of the plaintiffs. They must clarify the legal consequences of any subsisting order staying further proceedings. Most importantly, they must reassure Nigerians that constitutional disputes of immense political significance will continue to be resolved according to law rather than expediency.
Nigeria’s democratic experience has been shaped by sacrifice, resilience and an enduring insistence that political power must remain accountable to constitutional principles.
The lessons of that history should not be forgotten. Democracies rarely collapse dramatically.
More often, they erode gradually through small departures from established norms, each defended as an exception, each tolerated as a temporary necessity, until the cumulative effect becomes impossible to ignore.
That is why vigilance remains the price of liberty.
The questions raised by this judgment extend far beyond the immediate interests of the affected political parties.
Did the parties satisfy the constitutional threshold required for continued registration?
Did the plaintiffs possess the standing necessary to invoke the jurisdiction of the court?
Was there a subsisting order of the Court of Appeal staying further proceedings?
If so, what implications does that have for the validity of the judgment subsequently delivered?
These are not partisan questions.
They are constitutional questions.
The answers will shape not only the future of specific political parties but also the extent to which Nigerians continue to trust that democratic competition in the Fourth Republic will be governed by law, fairness and institutional restraint.
History often judges institutions not by their performance during periods of stability but by the choices they make in moments of controversy.
Future generations may look back upon this episode as an important test of Nigeria’s commitment to constitutional democracy.
One hopes they will conclude that when confronted with difficult questions involving law, politics and democratic choice, Nigeria’s institutions chose fidelity to the Constitution over expediency, principle over convenience and democracy over the temptations of the moment.
The country deserves nothing less.
And history demands nothing less.
* By Olukayode Majekodunmi. olukayodemajek@gmail.com