Selective Outrage and Silent Complicity: How Nigeria’s Elite Normalize Extremism and Punish Truth
Let us speak plainly, without fear, pretence, or selective morality. Nigeria’s crisis is no longer just about insecurity, elections, or governance; it is about truth, accountability, and the dangerous hypocrisy that has become normalized within sections of the country’s political and religious elite—particularly in Northern Nigeria.
For years, a troubling pattern has repeated itself with little consequence. When extremist rhetoric is excused, rationalized, or openly praised by individuals aligned with power, silence follows. When the victims of violence—especially Christian communities—are acknowledged or defended, outrage suddenly erupts. This contradiction is not accidental. It is ideological, calculated, and deeply corrosive to national unity.
One cannot discuss this hypocrisy honestly without recalling the widely reported past statements attributed to Isa Ali Pantami, Nigeria’s former Minister of Communications and Digital Economy. Long before he assumed federal office, Pantami was linked—through recorded sermons and public commentary—to expressions that appeared to praise extremist figures and justify acts of terrorism, including comments made in the aftermath of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks that killed thousands of innocent civilians in the United States. These reports were not rumors; they were documented, circulated by national and international media, and debated across civil society.
Yet at the time, there was no collective moral uprising from the Northern political and religious establishment. There was no emergency summit, no public repudiation, no unified condemnation of extremist sympathy. Instead, there was silence—or worse, justification. Some dismissed the issue as “misinterpretation.” Others argued “context.” Many simply looked away.
That silence spoke louder than any sermon.
Fast forward to the present, and the contrast is impossible to ignore. Statements attributed to the Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), Mahmood Yakubu—often misquoted or reframed in political discourse—regarding the mass killings and systemic violence faced by Christian communities in parts of Nigeria have triggered intense backlash. Northern elites, religious councils, and political actors suddenly found their voices. Accusations of bias, conspiracy, and religious persecution filled the air.
This raises an unavoidable question: why now, and why this selective outrage?
When Islamic extremism is praised, excused, or quietly tolerated, there is no moral alarm. When the suffering of Christians is acknowledged—even when backed by reports from international human rights organizations, security analysts, and local NGOs—the response is fury. That is not neutrality. That is not leadership. That is ideological bias masquerading as moral concern.
Reports from globally respected institutions such as Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF), and the United Nations have consistently documented the scale of religiously motivated violence in Nigeria. These reports highlight mass killings, church burnings, abductions, and displacement of Christian communities across states in the Middle Belt and Northern Nigeria. These are not speculative claims; they are verified patterns supported by data, survivor testimonies, and independent investigations.
Yet acknowledging these realities is treated as an act of hostility by the same elite who once remained silent in the face of extremist apologism.
This contradiction exposes a dangerous truth: Nigeria is grappling with selective morality rooted in ideology, not justice.
Let us stop pretending otherwise.
Anyone who excuses, sanitizes, rationalizes, or defends terrorism—whether through direct praise, strategic silence, or political protection—is complicit. Complicity does not require carrying a weapon. Sometimes it wears a suit, occupies public office, or hides behind religious authority. You cannot condemn violence only when it inconveniences your side. You cannot demand fairness while defending extremists because they share your faith, ethnicity, or political alignment.
That is not faith.
That is not leadership.
That is ideological loyalty at the expense of human life.
And Nigerians see it.
Political alignment does not cancel moral responsibility. Supporting a leader does not require defending every appointee or excusing every failure.
Names must be mentioned, because history does not record silence kindly.
Isa Pantami.
Hadi Sirika.
Abubakar Malami, SAN.
These are not abstract symbols; they are public officials whose records, actions, and controversies are part of Nigeria’s documented political history. Their conduct while in office, their public statements, and the allegations surrounding them should not be forgiven, forgotten, or swept under the carpet in the name of ethnic solidarity, religious loyalty, or political convenience.
Power does not erase accountability. Time does not nullify responsibility. And regime change does not rewrite history.
Nigeria will never heal if it continues to reward silence in the face of terror while punishing those who speak uncomfortable truths. A nation cannot defeat extremism by protecting its sympathizers. It cannot build unity by denying the suffering of one group while amplifying the sensitivities of another. Justice that is applied selectively is not justice at all—it is propaganda.
True leadership demands consistency. True faith demands moral courage. True patriotism demands the willingness to confront one’s own side when it is wrong.
The future of Nigeria depends on this honesty.
Until we are willing to condemn terrorism regardless of who praises it, regardless of which community suffers, and regardless of whose interests are threatened, the cycle will continue. Violence will persist. Distrust will deepen. And national cohesion will remain a slogan rather than a reality.
This is not a call for division. It is a call for integrity.
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