Language is a complex tool for expression and communication, often associated with the realm of reason, thought, and representation. However, language can also serve as a vehicle for violence, not in its physical manifestation but in its capacity to inflict harm, intimidate, and perpetuate systemic oppression. This duality – language as both a bridge of dialogue and a weapon of harm – becomes starkly evident in political discourses, as demonstrated in the recent spat involving Mr. Peter Obi, Felix Morka, and Dr. Abdullahi Ganduje. Also, Charles Tilly’s proposition in The Politics of Collective Violence that violence functions as ‘a kind of conversation’ offers a compelling framework for understanding the Obi-Morka bicker. Tilly’s analysis, which positions violence within the broader context of contentious politics, underscores the interplay between claims, counterclaims, and the potential for escalation. The unfolding narrative – Mr. Obi’s New Year message, Morka’s interpretation, the ensuing allegations of threats, and Ganduje’s defence – provides a fertile ground to explore the concept of linguistic violence. Accordingly, I seek to explore how language operates as both a medium and a mechanism of violence within the context of modern political discourse as well as unpack Tilly’s theory and how it sheds light on the dynamics of the Obi-Morka altercation and the broader implications for political discourse in Nigeria.
Mr. Peter Obi’s New Year message, reflective and laden with critique, encapsulated his concerns about the state of governance under the All Progressives Congress (APC). His tone, while pointed, was constructive, seeking to address systemic issues and propose alternative pathways. However, the reception of his message, particularly by Felix Morka, revealed the contested terrain of language in political discourse. Morka’s reaction, labeling Obi’s remarks as ‘crossing the line’ and suggesting that Obi ‘should be prepared to get what comes to him,’ introduces a linguistic performance that borders on threat. While the words may not explicitly call for violence, their connotation and implication rest uneasily within the framework of civilized dialogue. This moment reflects the thin line between expression and the invocation of violence, as language here becomes a vehicle for intimidation and fear.
Linguistic violence often thrives in the realm of implication. It relies not solely on the explicit meaning of words but on their ability to evoke fear, subjugation, or compliance. Morka’s choice of words, defended as a harmless response, carries a connotation that surpasses its surface denotation. The phrase ‘get what comes to him’ is evocative, suggesting consequences that may be dire, even if unspoken. This duality in language – where words can simultaneously seem benign and menacing – forms the bedrock of linguistic violence. It allows the speaker to maintain plausible deniability while achieving the intended effect of intimidation or harm.
In responding to Morka’s statement, Obi raised concerns about threats to his life, family, and private business. His reaction underscores the vulnerability of language when confronted with the spectre of violence. Language, in its essence, is a tool for representation and expression, but when faced with violence – whether physical or linguistic – it often falters. Obi’s cry for help exemplifies how linguistic violence challenges the representational capacities of language. The rawness of the threats he perceives disrupts the faith in dialogue as a medium of resolution, pushing the discourse into the realm of survival and defence.
Felix Morka’s pushback, claiming over 200 death threats in response to his remarks, and Ganduje’s defence of his position reveal the cyclical nature of linguistic violence. Here, the victim-perpetrator roles blur as both parties invoke the language of victimhood. Morka’s narrative of receiving graphic death threats shifts the discourse from an alleged perpetration of intimidation to a shared space of vulnerability. Ganduje’s intervention, defending Morka and accusing Obi of libel and incitement, further complicates the narrative. The APC’s framing of the incident portrays Obi as a figure capable of mobilizing a ‘mob’ against dissenters, reinforcing stereotypes that delegitimize opposition voices.
This rhetorical strategy serves as both a defence mechanism and an offensive tool, perpetuating the cycle of linguistic violence.
Modern political discourse relies heavily on language as a tool of power. Violence, often associated with physical acts, finds its precursor and sustenance in speech. In this context, Morka’s words are not isolated expressions but performances within the machinery of political communication. They signal dominance and control while simultaneously provoking responses that perpetuate the cycle of violence. Ganduje’s defence of Morka positions the potrays APC as a unified entity against what it perceives as an opposition threat. This dynamic reflects how language articulates systems of power, framing dissent as a destabilizing force that must be neutralized. Obi’s reaction and the broader fallout expose the limitations of language in addressing violence. When speech becomes the battlefield, it often undermines the very ideals of dialogue and resolution it seeks to uphold.
Interpreting the Obi-Morka tiff through Tilly’s lens impels one to frame violence as a kind of ‘conversation’. Tilly’s conceptualization of violence as a conversational tool revolves around groups pressing claims on one another. This conversation, while contentious, can transition from verbal disagreement to forms of violence – whether physical or linguistic. Violence, in this context, is not an aberration but an extension of contention, where groups articulate grievances, assert power, and seek outcomes. In the case of Peter Obi’s New Year message, his critique of governance under the APC was an articulation of claims against the ruling party’s policies and direction. Mr. Morka’s response, accusing Obi of ‘crossing the line’ and suggesting that he ‘should be prepared to get what comes to him,’ was a counterclaim that escalated the discourse. While the exchange remained in the realm of words, its undertones carried the potential for broader repercussions, including intimidation and incitement.
Tilly’s observation that contentious politics often transitions from non-violent civil debate to violence resonates in the Obi-Morka donnybrook. Obi’s initial message, grounded in civil critique, was met with a response that many interpreted as a veiled threat. This shift reflects how political conversations can move toward violence – not necessarily physical but linguistic – when power dynamics and ideological divides come into play. Morka’s characterization of Obi’s message as incitement and his suggestion that Obi should brace for consequences lent a whiff of aggression to the discourse. The language used, while ostensibly non-violent, invoked the spectre of intimidation, illustrating how verbal exchanges can escalate into symbolic violence.
Tilly’s theory also emphasizes the role of claims and responses in contentious politics. Obi’s critique pressed a claim against the APC, challenging its governance and policy decisions. This claim, aimed at fostering accountability, was perceived by the APC as a threat to its authority. Morka’s response, and later Ganduje’s defence, framed Obi as a destabilizing force, portraying his critique as an act of incitement rather than a legitimate opposition. This framing serves dual purposes. First, it delegitimizes Obi’s claims by associating them with chaos and mob action. Second, it justifies the APC’s pushback as a necessary response to maintain order. In this way, the conversation becomes less about the substance of the claims and more about the assertion of power and control.
Tilly’s instrumentalist approach highlights how violence is used strategically to achieve objectives within contentious politics. However, it risks oversimplifying the complex relationship between language and violence. The Obi-Morka brawl illustrates how linguistic violence operates not merely as a tool but as an intrinsic element of political discourse. Words, in this context, are not just instruments of communication but carriers of power, capable of shaping perceptions, evoking fear, and reinforcing hierarchies. This subtle interplay is evident in Morka’s pushback, which claimed that Obi’s message incited ‘200 mob threats’ against him. By invoking the language of victimhood, Morka weaponized discourse to shift the narrative from his initial aggression to a portrayal of himself as a target of violence. This manoeuvre highlights how language can simultaneously perpetuate and mask violence, complicating the simplistic instrumentalist perspective.
The Obi-Morka row, considered from the broad spectrum of language, violence, and political discourse, underscores the fragile state of political discourse in Nigeria, where contentious politics often teeters on the brink of linguistic violence. It reveals a troubling pattern where critique is met with aggression, and dialogue devolves into symbolic warfare. This dynamic stifles genuine debate and undermines the democratic process, replacing constructive engagement with cycles of intimidation and deflection. The tango illustrates the pervasive nature of linguistic violence in political discourse. It reveals how language, far from being a neutral medium, becomes a weapon for both oppression and defence.
Breaking this cycle requires a reorientation of political communication toward genuine dialogue, where critique is met with reasoned responses rather than veiled threats or defensive counter-allegations. To stem the ugly tide, Nigeria’s political actors must embrace a culture of accountability and respect for dissent. Tilly’s framing of violence as a ‘conversation’ reminds us that the language of politics carries immense power. When wielded responsibly, it can foster dialogue and progress. When misused, it can escalate tensions and perpetuate cycles of violence.
Nigeria’s democratic future hinges on its ability to foster a political culture that prioritizes governance over grandstanding and dialogue over discord. As the nation grapples with pressing challenges, the focus must shift from rhetorical skirmishes to substantive actions that address the needs of the people. The Obi-Morka rhubarb, viewed through the lens of Tilly’s theory, highlights the perils and possibilities of political discourse. It challenges us to move beyond the instrumentalist approach and recognize the deeper connections between language and violence. Specifically, APC must learn to cope with the inconvenient reality of an opposition figure cast in the mould of a Peter Obi. Despite his loss in the 2023 presidential election and subsequent court rulings, Obi remains a significant force in Nigerian politics. His persistent critiques of the ruling party have cast him in a ‘pestilential’ light, a resilient thorn in the APC’s side that cannot simply be dismissed. For the APC, the challenge lies in moving beyond reactionary and ad hominem responses to Obi’s interventions. Rather than framing him as a destabilizing force or focusing on his growing influence among Nigerians disenchanted with the current state of affairs, the party should embrace the healthy dynamics of democracy. Opposition figures like Obi serve as catalysts for accountability and better governance. Ignoring or vilifying him only fuels his influence and inadvertently validates his criticisms.
On the other hand, it behooves Peter Obi to continue to chart the path of constructive opposition; offering Nigerians a clear, viable alternative to the APC’s governance model. His interventions should aim to educate and inspire, presenting solutions that address the country’s challenges. Obi’s political capital lies in his ability to lead by example – through reasoned debate, factual critiques (not ‘voodoo economics’ as claimed by Mr. Morka), and a focus on the public good. This responsibility also extends to his supporters, the ‘Obidients,’ often framed by critics as ‘online mobsters.’ While their passion is commendable, it must be channeled into productive activism. Heated rhetoric, personal attacks, or threats against political opponents only undermine the credibility of their cause. They must take a cue from their principal, who has generally maintained a calm and measured tone and even offered to pay the supreme sacrifice in the course of providing a viable opposition.
On a final note, for Nigeria’s democracy to thrive, the ruling party and the opposition must learn to coexist in a manner that prioritizes national interests over political rivalry. The APC must shed its fixation on Peter Obi as a nuisance and instead see him as a necessary counterbalance in the political arena. Conversely, Obi must continue to evolve as a leader who exemplifies the ideals of a constructive and solution-driven opposition. Ultimately, a thriving democracy is one where opposition figures and their supporters engage robustly but responsibly, while the ruling party sees accountability not as an attack but as an opportunity to improve. The choice to engage or antagonize will determine the trajectory of Nigeria’s political discourse in the years to come.
• Prof Agbedo writes from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN).