The interplay of identity, symbolism, and electoral coalitions remains a defining feature of political calculations. Prof. Farooq Kperogi’s article, “The Shettima Danger for Tinubu,” brings to the fore a nuanced analysis of the 2023 Tinubu-Shettima political alliance and its implications for the upcoming 2027 elections. At first glance, one might dismiss Kperogi’s arguments as overblown or reductionist, interpreting the situation purely through a lens of personal relationships or conventional political maneuvers. However, a deeper examination reveals that Kperogi’s article is a persuasive and compelling warning about how ignoring the complex dynamics of identity blocs and political symbolism could imperil Tinubu’s ambitions. Kperogi’s insights, therefore, must be taken seriously by political actors, analysts, and stakeholders as they unravel the political future of Nigeria’s ruling party.
Kperogi’s central contentions revolve around what he terms “emotional cartography”—the phenomenon where voting behavior in Nigeria is strongly influenced by identity-based sentimental loyalty to ethnic, regional, and religious affiliations. The Tinubu–Shettima ticket of 2023 is not merely an example of a Muslim-Muslim alliance as popularly debated but rather a strategic partnership representing a powerful Yoruba–Northern Muslim electoral coalition. Tinubu, as a Yoruba political titan, symbolized the southwestern, populous, and politically vibrant Yoruba bloc, while Shettima represented the Northern Muslim electorate, a significant demographic force that has historically influenced election outcomes. This alliance functioned not just on religious credentials but on broader identity representation that allowed different groups to feel politically validated and included in governance.
To understand the stakes, one must appreciate how Nigerian electoral politics operate under this framework. Identity politics, though often criticized for perpetuating division, remains a primary mechanism through which large sections of the population interpret their political interests and participation. For many Nigerians, political representation is not only about policies or ideology but also about whether they see their group’s history, values, and concerns visibly acknowledged and safeguarded. Kperogi emphasizes that emotional cartography generates an implicit contract: when a political ticket includes representatives from major ethnic and religious blocks, it reassures those constituencies that their place in the power structure is secure. Conversely, when this balance shifts or is disrupted, it risks alienating those blocs, triggering voter apathy, backlash, or realignment.
This dynamic makes the prospect of removing Shettima from the 2027 Tinubu ticket particularly perilous. According to Kperogi, Shettima’s presence was foundational to the 2023 electoral success because he symbolically anchored Northern Muslim support. The North is not monolithic, but the Northern Muslim constituency comprises a notable voting bloc that contributed significantly to Tinubu’s victory. Removing Shettima signals more than just a personnel change; it potentially conveys to Northern Muslims that their symbolic representation within the ruling coalition is being diminished or erased. Such a perception, Kperogi warns, would likely fracture existing alliances and result in a loss of critical votes during the next election cycle.
Also, Kperogi critiques the assumption that replacing Shettima with a Northern Christian candidate would simply substitute one identity for another and thus maintain coalition stability. This overlooks key realities about the shifting affiliations and political histories of Northern Christians. Many Northern Christian voters have already gravitated toward alternatives such as Peter Obi, making them a less reliable base for Tinubu’s coalition vis-à-vis Northern Muslims. Hence, swapping Shettima for a Northern Christian does not guarantee a straightforward transfer of votes; instead, it risks weakening the Northern bloc’s overall cohesion in favor of less predictable political outcomes. In Kperogi’s assessment, this maneuver could cause Tinubu to lose more ground than he gains.
Beyond electoral arithmetic, Kperogi’s argument also extends into the broader realm of political sociology and conflict studies within Nigeria. Throughout history, Northern political elites have often leveraged religious identity—particularly Muslim solidarity—to mobilize voters and address perceived marginalization or exclusion in the national power matrix. Displacing Shettima, who embodies this Northern Muslim representation, could rekindle grievances and exacerbate fault lines that have periodically erupted into tension or violence. Thus, the “Shettima danger” not only encapsulates electoral risks but also potential destabilization of Nigeria’s delicate interethnic and interreligious equilibrium.
Critically, Kperogi’s analysis does not endorse or glorify identity politics; rather, it pragmatically acknowledges it as an existing reality that shapes Nigerian political behavior. His contribution lies in highlighting that political actors who ignore these identity perceptions do so at their own peril. The idea that electoral success can be achieved solely through policy platforms or technocratic governance is, in Nigeria’s context, incomplete without considering the symbolism of inclusion and representation among diverse communities. Tinubu’s political fortunes, therefore, hinge upon maintaining a coalition that respects and reflects the ethnic and religious mosaic of Nigeria’s electorate.
Opponents of Kperogi’s view might argue that emphasizing identity risks perpetuating sectarianism and undermining efforts toward national integration. They may advocate for transcendence beyond primordial affiliations toward programmatic politics focusing on issues like economic development, security, and social justice. While such aspirations are noble and necessary for Nigeria’s long-term progress, the immediate political reality remains that identity-based emotional loyalty strongly influences voter behavior and political legitimacy. Dismissing this factor risks alienating vital constituencies and undermining political stability—a cost that Nigerian leaders cannot afford in the volatile current climate.
Indeed, Kperogi’s concept of emotional cartography offers a useful analytic framework to bridge the divide between identity politics critics and proponents. It encourages recognizing identity as a sociopolitical phenomenon shaped by history, culture, and lived experience rather than a mere obstacle to democracy. Through this lens, politicians like Tinubu must navigate identity sensibilities skillfully, balancing inclusivity and national unity without erasing distinct group identities. The Shettima matter exemplifies this challenge: it requires sensitivity to how symbolic representation operates alongside substantive governance to sustain broad-based political coalitions.
The assessment of the “Shettima danger” for Tinubu’s 2027 ticket should be regarded as a persuasive cautionary tale grounded in Nigeria’s political realities. Far from an academic abstraction, his insights illuminate why removing Shettima risks fracturing a crucial electoral coalition based on Yoruba and Northern Muslim alliances, thereby jeopardizing Tinubu’s political prospects. More importantly, it underscores how identity, symbolism, and emotional cartography continue to shape Nigerian politics in profound ways. For Tinubu and his party, success depends not only on policy effectiveness but also on adeptly managing the complex mosaic of representation and inclusion that defines Nigeria’s democratic landscape. To ignore Kperogi’s warnings is to court a political miscalculation with potentially far-reaching consequences for Nigeria’s fragile unity and democratic stability.
Bwala, PhD, writes from Abuja
