THE RASCALITY OF POLITICAL INTOLERANCE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
By Livy-Elcon Emereonye
There is something fundamentally strange about a political culture in which people who claim to be fighting for the people are prepared to destroy the people in the process.
It is even stranger when those who seek public office behave as though public disagreement is a declaration of war, criticism is an act of treason, and political opposition is a disease that must be exterminated.
This is the tragedy of political intolerance.
Politics, in its proper conception, is supposed to be a contest of ideas, competence, character, vision and alternative approaches to the management of society. It should be a marketplace where competing ideas are tested, challenged, refined and ultimately subjected to the judgment of the people.
But when political intolerance takes over, politics ceases to be a marketplace of ideas and becomes a marketplace of anger.
And when anger becomes the currency of politics, everybody eventually pays.
Political disagreement is normal. Political intolerance is not.
Indeed, disagreement is not a defect of democracy. It is one of its defining features.
A democracy in which everybody thinks alike may not necessarily be a peaceful democracy. It may simply be a society in which people have become afraid to think aloud.
The beauty of democracy is that reasonable people can examine the same problem and arrive at different conclusions. One may favour one policy while another opposes it. One may praise a government while another criticises it. One may support a political party while another supports its opponent.
That is democracy.
The problem begins when someone declares, explicitly or implicitly:
“You are not entitled to disagree with me.”
That is where democratic tolerance begins to die.
WHEN DISAGREEMENT BECOMES AN OFFENCE
Political intolerance rarely arrives announcing itself as political intolerance.
It usually enters quietly.
First, criticism becomes irritating.
Then the critic becomes an enemy.
The enemy becomes a traitor.
The traitor becomes a target.
The target becomes a victim.
And eventually, everybody asks:
“How did we get here?”
We got here because we failed to stop intolerance when it was still wearing the innocent-looking clothes of political disagreement.
The inability to tolerate opposing views is often the first stage in the degeneration of political culture.
When politicians cannot answer criticism, they attack the critic.
When they cannot defeat an argument, they attempt to discredit the person making it.
When they cannot persuade citizens, they may attempt to intimidate them.
And when persuasion disappears from politics, coercion enters through the back door.
This is how democracy can gradually lose its soul without necessarily losing its name.
A country may still conduct elections and yet develop an intolerant political culture.
It may have political parties and still lack political tolerance.
It may have legislatures, courts and public institutions and yet suffer from the dangerous mentality that whoever controls power is entitled to use it without restraint.
Democracy, therefore, is more than voting.
Democracy is a culture before it is a procedure.
And one of the most important ingredients of that culture is tolerance.
THE POLITICAL THUG: A WEAPON THAT CAN TURN AROUND
Perhaps one of the saddest characters in the theatre of political intolerance is the political thug.
He is often young.
He may be unemployed.
He may be frustrated.
He may be economically vulnerable.
He may have little political power of his own.
Then someone discovers him and suddenly gives him something that resembles power.
Money.
A vehicle.
A political connection.
A group.
Perhaps a weapon.
And an instruction:
“Go and deal with them.”
The politician may call this mobilisation.
Society may call it thuggery.
Whatever name we give it, the result can be devastating.
The young man who was supposed to become an entrepreneur becomes an instrument of violence.
The young graduate who should have been building a career becomes a political foot soldier.
The young citizen who should be contributing to society becomes expendable political ammunition.
And here lies the wicked irony:
The person who sends him into danger may remain safely behind the curtains.
The politician may have security personnel.
The politician may have lawyers.
The politician may have influence.
The politician may even have the opportunity to reconcile with his political opponent tomorrow.
But the young man who was sent to fight may not survive to see tomorrow.
So, who exactly is being empowered?
This is not empowerment.
It is exploitation.
There is nothing heroic about becoming another man’s disposable weapon.
The young people of a nation should be recruited to build its future, not to destroy somebody else’s present.
NO POLITICAL VICTORY IS WORTH A HUMAN LIFE
An election is supposed to answer one fundamental question:
Who should govern?
It should never answer:
Who should die?
Political competition should produce leaders, not widows.
It should produce policies, not funerals.
It should produce development, not destruction.
No political office is worth the blood of a citizen.
No party victory is worth a mother’s tears.
No appointment is worth the death of a young man whose greatest mistake may have been believing the political promises of an older man.
A politician who wins power but leaves behind a trail of destroyed lives has won an office, not necessarily a victory worthy of celebration.
A political victory obtained at the expense of human life is a tragedy wearing the costume of triumph.
HOOLIGANISM IS NOT POLITICAL STRENGTH
There is a strange tendency in some political environments to mistake aggression for strength.
The politician who commands the largest crowd of thugs is described as powerful.
The person who can disrupt an opponent’s meeting is celebrated as influential.
The person who can intimidate others is treated as politically formidable.
But fear is not legitimacy.
Hooliganism is not political sophistication.
Intimidation is not leadership.
Violence is not competence.
A genuinely strong political leader should be able to win an argument without throwing a punch, defeat an opponent without destroying him and mobilise citizens without frightening them.
The ability to frighten people is not the same thing as the ability to lead them.
The strongest political weapon in a democracy should be persuasion.
WHEN POLITICS BECOMES DEADLY
The most tragic manifestation of political intolerance is killing.
An election should determine who governs—not who lives.
Political competition should produce winners and losers, not widows and orphans.
Whenever political disagreements degenerate into violence, innocent people can become casualties of conflicts they did not create.
Every politically motivated killing leaves behind more than a body.
It leaves grieving parents.
It leaves traumatised children.
It leaves spouses suddenly forced to navigate life without their partners.
It leaves communities divided by suspicion.
It leaves political scars that may remain long after the election has ended.
We must never become so accustomed to violence that the death of a political opponent is dismissed as merely “part of politics.”
It is not.
Political murder is not politics.
Political assassination is not political strategy.
Violence is not an electoral manifesto.
And a gun is certainly not an argument.
Where criminal conduct occurs, it should be addressed through lawful institutions and due process.
A democracy that becomes comfortable with political violence eventually places everyone at risk—including those who initially believe they are benefiting from it.
NO ONE HAS A MONOPOLY OF MISCHIEF
There is a political illusion that must be destroyed:
the belief that one person or group possesses a permanent monopoly of mischief.
Nobody does.
No political party owns mischief.
No ethnic group owns mischief.
No religious community owns mischief.
No region owns mischief.
No government owns mischief.
No opposition owns mischief.
Mischief is an equal-opportunity visitor.
It can enter any political house whose doors are left open.
This is why political actors must be extremely careful about the precedents they establish.
The political weapon you celebrate today may be the weapon used against you tomorrow.
The institution you weaken today may be the institution you desperately need tomorrow.
The rule you bend today may become the rule that breaks you tomorrow.
The precedent you establish against your opponent may eventually become the precedent used against your political children.
Politics has a peculiar way of recycling consequences.
Yesterday’s political weapon can become tomorrow’s political victimiser.
EVIL BEGETS EVIL
There is a simple but profound moral law that political opportunists often forget:
Evil begets evil.
Violence rarely ends violence.
It usually reproduces it.
Retaliation produces counter-retaliation.
Counter-retaliation produces revenge.
Revenge produces another grievance.
And another grievance produces another generation of revenge.
Soon, nobody remembers the original offence.
Everybody simply remembers the injury.
This is how societies become prisoners of historical grievances.
Someone says:
“They did it to us.”
Another responds:
“Then we will do worse to them.”
And the next generation inherits the quarrel without knowing why it started.
This is how political foolishness becomes political tradition.
We must therefore reject the seductive argument that says:
“Because they did evil, we are entitled to do evil.”
No.
If they are wrong, our obligation is not to imitate their wrong.
If they have abused power, our responsibility is to demand accountability.
If they have violated the law, let the law address it.
If they have attacked democratic institutions, let us strengthen those institutions.
The answer to political evil cannot permanently be another political evil.
Otherwise, the difference between the combatants eventually becomes merely the colour of their clothing.
Two wrongs do not create a right; they merely create two wrongdoers.
THE MOST DANGEROUS SENTENCE IN POLITICS
Perhaps the most dangerous sentence in politics is:
“But they did it first.”
It sounds reasonable.
It is emotionally compelling.
But it can become an endless invitation to revenge.
“They insulted us first.”
“They attacked us first.”
“They manipulated the system first.”
“They used thugs first.”
“They persecuted our people first.”
“They stole first.”
And so the cycle continues.
But if every wrong becomes permission for another wrong, where does the madness end?
If two people are drowning and each insists on pushing the other further underwater because the other started first, the eventual result is not justice.
It is two drowning people.
Society must therefore develop the courage to say:
“Yes, what they did was wrong. But that does not make what you are about to do right.”
That is the beginning of civilisation.
THE RASCALITY OF “OUR OWN”
One of the greatest diseases of political morality is what may be called the “our own” syndrome.
When our man does something wrong, we search for an explanation.
When their man does the same thing, we search for condemnation.
When our supporter insults an opponent, we call it political expression.
When their supporter does the same thing, we call it hooliganism.
When our politician manipulates a system, we call it strategy.
When their politician does the same thing, we call it corruption.
When our people protest, we call it democratic rights.
When their people protest, we call it destabilisation.
This is not morality.
It is political convenience.
And political convenience is a poor substitute for principle.
Wrong does not become right because the wrongdoer belongs to “our side.”
A lie does not become truth because the liar belongs to our political camp.
A crime does not become patriotism because the criminal shares our ethnicity.
An abuse of office does not become good governance because the beneficiary is our political ally.
Violence does not become acceptable simply because it was committed against somebody we dislike.
If we genuinely desire a better society, our moral standards must be consistent.
We must condemn the misconduct of our friends with the same courage with which we condemn the misconduct of our enemies.
Otherwise, we are not defending principles.
We are merely defending our team.
THE RASCALITY OF ADMINISTRATIVE POWER
Not all political violence is carried by fists.
Some of it is carried by files.
Some of it is signed with pens.
Some of it wears official letterheads.
Some of it arrives with stamps, seals and bureaucratic language.
Administrative recklessness can become another instrument of political intolerance when public authority is exercised arbitrarily, selectively or vindictively.
Public institutions exist to serve the public.
Government offices are not private estates.
Public servants are not personal retainers of political officeholders.
Government agencies are not instruments for settling political scores.
A regulatory institution should regulate.
A public office should serve.
A court should administer justice.
A legislature should legislate and provide oversight.
An executive authority should govern within the law.
The machinery of government must operate according to law, due process, fairness and accountability.
When institutions begin to operate according to the whims of individuals, democracy becomes a costume.
It may still look official.
But underneath the costume is arbitrariness.
WHEN INSTITUTIONS BECOME POLITICAL WEAPONS
Once citizens begin to believe that justice depends on political connections, democracy becomes dangerously fragile.
If citizens believe that merit depends on whom they know, they stop trusting merit.
If they believe that public opportunities depend on political loyalty, they stop believing in fairness.
If they believe that institutions can be weaponised against political opponents, they begin to fear the institutions that should protect them.
And when citizens fear public institutions instead of trusting them, something fundamental has gone wrong.
Institutions should not ask:
“Who is your political father?”
They should ask:
“What does the law say?”
That is institutional neutrality.
The institution must be bigger than the individual occupying the office.
POLITICAL POWER IS NOT PERSONAL PROPERTY
One of the greatest misconceptions in politics is the belief that occupying public office means owning public power.
It does not.
An elected office is a temporary assignment.
An appointment is a temporary trust.
A political mandate has a lifespan.
Even the most powerful political office eventually becomes someone else’s chair.
The office survives the officeholder.
Therefore, those who occupy public positions must behave with the humility of temporary custodians.
The governor will leave.
The minister will leave.
The legislator will leave.
The president will leave.
The party leader will leave.
But the institution should remain.
Power is borrowed from the people; it is not inherited from them.
That is why institutional integrity is more important than individual political victory.
If you destroy the institution in order to defeat your opponent, you may eventually discover that you have defeated yourself.
THE POLITICS OF PERMANENT VENGEANCE
There is a particular kind of political actor who never leaves yesterday.
Everything is revenge.
Every decision is retaliation.
Every appointment is compensation.
Every policy is punishment.
Every disagreement becomes an opportunity to settle an old score.
Such politics cannot build a nation.
A society cannot develop when every new administration spends its energy digging up the graves of the previous administration.
Governance requires looking forward.
History should teach us.
It should not permanently imprison us.
Justice should correct wrongdoing.
It should not manufacture new wrongdoing.
A government that spends more time settling yesterday’s scores than solving today’s problems has misplaced its compass.
POLITICAL MATURITY IS NOT WEAKNESS
Some people confuse restraint with weakness.
They believe that the person who refuses to retaliate is afraid.
They believe that the politician who speaks calmly is weak.
They believe that the leader who seeks dialogue is incapable of confrontation.
This is a misunderstanding of strength.
Anybody can throw a stone.
It takes discipline to put the stone down.
Anybody can insult.
It takes maturity to remain civil.
Anybody can mobilise angry supporters.
It takes leadership to restrain them.
Anybody can destroy.
It takes vision to build.
Strength is not the capacity to cause damage. Strength is the capacity to possess power without abusing it.
That is political maturity.
POLITICS IS NOT WAR
This distinction must be made repeatedly:
Politics is not war.
An opponent is not an enemy combatant.
An election is not a battlefield.
A campaign is not a military operation.
A political party is not an army.
A political disagreement is not an existential threat.
Once politics is conceptualised as war, everything becomes permissible.
In war, people seek to destroy the enemy.
In democracy, political opponents must survive the election.
The objective is not to eliminate opponents.
It is to persuade enough citizens to choose your programme.
And if citizens choose somebody else, democracy requires the loser to pursue lawful means and prepare to persuade them another day.
That is not humiliation.
That is democracy.
Losing an election is not losing one’s citizenship.
THE CITIZEN MUST ALSO GROW UP
Citizens have responsibilities too.
We cannot demand responsible leadership while rewarding irresponsible politicians.
We cannot complain about political violence while applauding the politician who uses violence against people we dislike.
We cannot condemn corruption when our opponents are corrupt and celebrate it when our allies are corrupt.
We cannot demand good governance while treating politicians as tribal messiahs.
A politician is a politician.
He is not a deity.
She is not a deity.
No political party should become a religion.
No ethnic group should become a moral certificate.
No political leader should become too sacred to question.
The citizen must remain the ultimate sovereign in a democracy.
A democracy becomes dangerous when citizens stop being citizens and become worshippers.
WHAT SHOULD WE REALLY BE FIGHTING ABOUT?
Imagine what would happen if the energy spent fighting political opponents were redirected towards fighting poverty.
If the energy spent organising thugs were redirected towards organising entrepreneurs.
If the money spent financing political violence were invested in education.
If the passion used to defend political personalities were used to defend public institutions.
If the intellectual energy used to manufacture political propaganda were used to design better healthcare systems.
If politicians competed over who could create more jobs, build better schools, improve healthcare, attract investment and strengthen institutions.
That would be politics worth having.
That would be competition worth celebrating.
That would be leadership.
The real enemy is not the citizen who votes differently.
The real enemies of development are poverty, insecurity, unemployment, illiteracy, preventable disease, institutional weakness, economic stagnation and injustice.
Why fight the man who disagrees with you when you can fight the problems that oppress you both?
That is the question political maturity should ask.
THE POLITICS OF SANITY
We need a political culture in which disagreement is not criminalised.
A culture in which criticism is not interpreted as hatred.
A culture in which opponents can sit at the same table after fiercely disagreeing.
A culture in which losing an election does not mean losing one’s humanity.
A culture in which winning an election does not mean acquiring unlimited power.
A culture in which institutions are stronger than individuals.
A culture in which the law is stronger than political connections.
A culture in which citizens are more important than political parties.
And, above all, a culture in which human life is more valuable than political victory.
THE FINAL WARNING
There is a profound irony in political mischief.
The person who believes he has discovered the perfect weapon against his opponent may simply have discovered a weapon that can later be used against himself.
Today, you may control the machinery.
Tomorrow, someone else may control it.
Today, you may command the crowd.
Tomorrow, the crowd may belong to someone else.
Today, you may celebrate the destruction of your opponent.
Tomorrow, you may discover that destruction has become the accepted language of politics.
That is why wisdom requires restraint.
Do not build a political system you will need to escape from when you lose power.
Do not weaken institutions you may need when you become the opposition.
Do not normalise conduct you will condemn when the political table turns.
Because political tables do turn.
Power changes hands.
Alliances change.
Friends become opponents.
Opponents become allies.
Yesterday’s victor can become tomorrow’s victim.
And today’s political ally may become tomorrow’s political rival.
Therefore, the wiser political question is not:
“How much can we do because we are powerful?”
It is:
“What kind of system would we want if our opponents were in power?”
That question alone could save many political actors from themselves.
LET THE ARGUMENT, NOT THE FIST, WIN
Politics should not be an arena where the loudest fist defeats the strongest argument.
It should be an arena where the strongest argument receives the opportunity to persuade.
We must reject political intolerance in all its forms—whether it comes through the street, the microphone, the social media platform, the political party office or the government office.
We must reject thuggery.
We must reject hooliganism.
We must reject intimidation.
We must reject political violence.
We must reject the weaponisation of public institutions.
We must reject the politics of vengeance.
And we must reject the dangerous double standard that says misconduct is wrong when committed by our opponents but acceptable when committed by our allies.
There is no such morality.
Wrong is wrong.
Evil is evil.
Mischief is mischief.
The identity of the perpetrator does not change the nature of the act.
No person has a monopoly of wisdom.
No party has a monopoly of patriotism.
No ethnic group has a monopoly of virtue.
And, most certainly, no person or group of persons has a monopoly of mischief.
The political weapon of today can become the political weapon used against its creator tomorrow.
The institution abused today may be needed tomorrow.
The rule broken today may be the rule invoked tomorrow.
The enemy humiliated today may become the ally needed tomorrow.
Politics has a long memory, even when politicians have short ones.
We must therefore learn to distinguish between political victory and societal progress.
A politician may defeat an opponent and still damage the society.
A party may win an election and still lose an opportunity to build trust.
A government may exercise enormous power and still weaken the institutions upon which future governments—and future citizens—will depend.
The ultimate measure of political leadership should therefore not simply be:
“Did we win?”
It should also be:
“What did our victory do to the society we claim to serve?”
That is the deeper question.
For political power is temporary.
Political offices are temporary.
Political parties are temporary.
Political alliances are temporary.
But society remains.
The people remain.
The consequences remain.
The history remains.
Let us therefore be careful about the history we are writing.
Let us build institutions rather than destroy them.
Let us persuade rather than intimidate.
Let us educate rather than manipulate.
Let us compete rather than fight.
Let us disagree without becoming enemies.
Let us win without arrogance.
Let us lose without violence.
Let us criticise without hatred.
Let us defend principles rather than personalities.
And when tempted to repay evil with evil, let us remember the wisdom that remains as relevant in politics as it is in ordinary life:
Evil begets evil.
A society that rewards political rascality will eventually be governed by rascality.
A society that normalises violence will eventually live with violence.
A society that excuses intolerance will eventually become intolerable.
The choice is therefore ours.
We can continue to build politics around fear, revenge, thuggery and intolerance.
Or we can build a political culture around ideas, institutions, competence, accountability, tolerance and respect for human dignity.
The first path may produce temporary political victories.
The second offers something much more valuable:
a society worth inheriting.
And that, ultimately, should be the purpose of politics.
Not to conquer one another.
Not to destroy one another.
Not to silence one another.
But to build a society in which even those who disagree about almost everything can still agree on one fundamental principle:
We may be political opponents, but we are still fellow citizens—and the nation is bigger than all of us.
So let the politician bring his ideas.
Let the intellectual bring his arguments.
Let the citizen bring his vote.
Let the critic bring his questions.
Let the opposition bring its alternatives.
Let institutions bring the law.
And let the people make their choice freely.
For in a true democracy, the strongest argument—not the strongest fist—must win.
