The American Midterm Elections And Nigeria’s 2027: Why The Comparison Misses The Fundamental Issues

By Chief/Barr. Joshua Danladi Ephraim

NEWSDAILYNIGERIA: I have read Umar Ardo’s latest intervention, The American Verdict and the Abuja Lesson: What the Midterm Rout Foretells for Nigeria’s 2027 Elections. It is an interesting political analysis, and I agree with him on one fundamental point: governments cannot indefinitely ignore the economic and social conditions of the people and expect electoral rewards.

However, I disagree with his central thesis that the American midterm elections provide a sufficiently reliable lesson for predicting what may happen in Nigeria in January 2027. In my view, the comparison, although attractive, overlooks some fundamental differences between the two countries and, more importantly, the peculiar nature of Nigerian electoral politics.

First, the American and Nigerian political systems are not the same. The fact that Nigeria adopted the American Executive Presidential System does not mean that both countries operate within identical political, historical and institutional environments.

American midterm elections are principally elections into Congress. They provide an opportunity for voters to alter the balance of political power in the legislature and, indirectly, express approval or disapproval of the sitting President. The President, however, is not on the ballot. He remains in office regardless of the outcome.

Nigeria’s 2027 general election presents a fundamentally different opportunity. Nigerians will not merely be expressing dissatisfaction with the performance of an incumbent government. They will have the opportunity to remove the President and replace the government altogether. The political consequences are therefore considerably different.

Secondly, the historical experiences of the two countries are different. Their political evolution, party systems, social structures, national identities and electoral behaviour cannot be treated as interchangeable. Indeed, Ardo acknowledges these differences in paragraph three of his article, but surprisingly proceeds to suggest that the American experience will be repeated in Nigeria.

That is where I find the argument unconvincing. If the two countries have different political and historical experiences, why should we assume that the same electoral circumstances will necessarily produce similar outcomes?

There is, however, a more fundamental issue which the article does not adequately address: Nigerian elections are not determined exclusively by the performance of the incumbent government.

No one can seriously dispute the economic difficulties confronting Nigerians. The removal of fuel subsidy, inflation, declining purchasing power, unemployment, insecurity and the general cost of living have imposed enormous burdens on the population. But these conditions are not entirely new in Nigeria’s political experience. Previous governments have faced serious economic and security challenges without necessarily being removed through elections.

This suggests that there are other variables at work. Economic hardship is important, but it does not operate in a political vacuum.

Nigeria’s electoral behaviour is significantly influenced by ethnicity, religion, regional interests, political patronage, elite alliances and the historical relationship between different sections of the country. These factors have repeatedly influenced political alignments, candidate selection and voting patterns.

Indeed, one of the most uncomfortable realities of our political development is that Nigerians do not always approach elections as a single national constituency responding uniformly to the performance of government. We frequently approach them as separate political constituencies with different interests, loyalties and expectations.

This is particularly important in understanding the political atmosphere since the emergence of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu.

Tinubu’s emergence has brought into sharper public consciousness the regional and ethnic dimensions of Nigerian politics which, although they have always existed, were not always openly acknowledged in contemporary political discourse. The Yoruba expression, Emilokan, meaning “it is my turn”, became a prominent feature of his political campaign and has since acquired a wider political significance.

The expression itself reflects an aspect of Nigerian political thinking in which political power is sometimes viewed through the prism of regional entitlement, political succession and group interests. Whether one agrees with that political philosophy or not, it cannot be ignored in analysing the country’s electoral behaviour.

The point is not that every Yoruba voter supports Tinubu because he is Yoruba, or that every Northern voter will support a Northern candidate. That would be an equally simplistic conclusion. The point is that regional and ethnic identities have become increasingly relevant to political calculations, and pretending otherwise will lead to an incomplete understanding of the Nigerian electorate.

Religion has equally become a powerful instrument of political mobilisation. The interaction between religious identity, regional interests and political competition has created alignments that cannot be adequately explained by economic performance alone.

Consequently, Nigerians may be suffering from the same economic difficulties but arrive at different political conclusions about who should govern them. A voter may be dissatisfied with the economy and still support an incumbent because of ethnic, religious or regional affinity. Another may reject the incumbent for precisely the same reasons, irrespective of the opposition candidate’s record or capacity.

This is the fundamental complication in the Nigerian situation.

Ardo appears to assume that widespread economic dissatisfaction will translate into a corresponding national electoral rejection of the APC. That assumption is not necessarily justified. The relevant question is not simply how many Nigerians are dissatisfied with the government, but how that dissatisfaction will translate into voting decisions across the different political and regional constituencies.

There is also the question of electoral arithmetic. A presidential candidate does not win merely because the majority of Nigerians are unhappy with the incumbent. He must assemble the necessary geographical and political coalition, secure the constitutionally required spread of votes and overcome the organisational and electoral advantages of competing parties.

The opposition’s fragmentation is therefore not a minor consideration. Neither is the capacity of the ruling party to mobilise its political structures, retain its regional support and attract influential political interests from other parts of the country.

Furthermore, Nigeria’s political class has historically demonstrated a remarkable capacity to reorganise itself around electoral opportunities. Political loyalty is frequently negotiable, alliances are often temporary, and political interests can override ideological differences. These realities make electoral predictions based exclusively on public dissatisfaction particularly hazardous.

I therefore find it difficult to accept the suggestion that the American midterm result is a dress rehearsal for what will happen in Nigeria in January 2027. It may offer a useful illustration of how economic dissatisfaction can affect an incumbent political party, but it cannot serve as a reliable template for predicting Nigeria’s electoral outcome.

There is a distinction between learning from another country’s political experience and assuming that the same experience will be reproduced in one’s own country.

I would also caution against the assumption that Nigerians will necessarily vote against the APC because of economic hardship. They may do so, but the outcome will depend on how economic dissatisfaction interacts with ethnicity, religion, regional calculations, political alliances, opposition credibility, electoral institutions and the capacity of the competing parties to mobilise voters.

The American electorate may have used the midterm elections to express its dissatisfaction with Donald Trump by changing the composition of Congress. The Nigerian electorate, on the other hand, will be making a much more consequential choice about who occupies the presidency and controls the federal government.

These are not identical electoral exercises.

Ultimately, the 2027 election will not be determined by economic statistics alone, nor will it necessarily be a straightforward referendum on Tinubu’s performance. It will be a contest involving competing political interests, identities, regional calculations, religious considerations, personalities, party structures and the credibility of the alternatives presented to Nigerians.

This does not diminish the importance of economic performance or the responsibility of government to protect the welfare and security of citizens. Rather, it recognises that electoral choices are shaped by more than the immediate material circumstances of voters.

My disagreement with Ardo is therefore not that the American experience has nothing to teach Nigeria. It is that he has elevated a useful comparative political observation into something approaching an electoral prediction.

Nigeria is not America, and Nigerian voters do not necessarily vote as Americans do. Until we confront the realities of our own political history, particularly the weaponisation of ethnicity, religion and regional interests, we will continue to misunderstand the forces that determine who wins and who loses elections in this country.

The real question for 2027 is not simply whether Nigerians are unhappy with Tinubu. It is whether that unhappiness will overcome the competing identities, interests and political calculations that have historically shaped the Nigerian electoral process.

That, in my view, is where the real Nigerian story lies.

J.D.Ephraim.