A few days ago, the National Chairman of the APC ignited an intense national conversation with a policy direction he proposed for the ruling party should it secure re-election in 2027. According to a report by Daily Trust titled “2027: No Appointments for Non-APC Members – National Chair, Yilwatda,” Prof. Nentawe Yilwatda declared that political appointments after the next general elections would be reserved strictly for party loyalists, not technocrats or professionals detached from partisan politics. What might ordinarily have passed as a routine partisan declaration quickly transformed into a viral moment, setting social media ablaze and polarising opinion across political, academic, and civil society spaces.
Speaking at a North-West mobilisation event in Abuja, Prof. Yilwatda framed governance as an extension of politics, insisting that those entrusted with political appointments must actively support, defend, and promote the party that brought them to power. His remarks were blunt and unapologetic. He argued that votes, not technocratic credentials, deliver political authority, stressing that once appointed, an individual ceases to be a neutral professional and becomes a politician. In his words, there is no such thing as a vote called “technocrats,” and anyone unwilling to engage in party work should remain a consultant, not a political appointee.
As expected, reactions were swift and sharply divided. Party loyalists applauded what they saw as honesty and ideological clarity, while critics warned that such a stance risks undermining merit-based governance and institutional professionalism. The debate intensified as Yilwatda anchored his argument in electoral pragmatism, pointing to the North-West as the electoral backbone of the APC and emphasising the centrality of youth participation. He highlighted that nearly half of the party’s registered members in the region fall between the ages of 18 and 35, presenting this demographic reality as both a mandate and a strategic imperative for political mobilisation.
Reinforcing this position, Hadiza Bala-Usman echoed the sentiment that it is unfair for some individuals to labour for electoral victory while others reap appointments under the banner of technocracy. In her view, political appointments come with obligations that extend beyond administrative efficiency to include visibility, loyalty, and mobilisation. To her, governance divorced from party politics is not only unrealistic but dangerous to party survival.
These declarations, however, opened a deeper line of inquiry with far-reaching implications. Analysts quickly noted that if such a policy were rigidly implemented, it could affect senior officials widely perceived as technocrats rather than party loyalists. Figures such as Bosun Tijjani at Communications and Wada Maida at the NCC were cited as examples of professionals whose appointments were driven primarily by expertise. Comparisons were also drawn with political actors like Nyesom Wike, whose role in government defies strict party affiliation, thereby exposing the tension between political pragmatism and ideological purity.
At the heart of this debate lies a fundamental assumption worth interrogating: the belief that politics and administration can be cleanly separated at the highest levels of governance. Classical public administration theory once promoted a rigid politics–administration dichotomy, but modern scholarship has largely abandoned this view. Scholars like Dwight Waldo and Herbert Simon have long argued that administration is inherently value-laden and politically conditioned. In practice, political leaders rely on administrators to translate ideology into policy, promises into programmes, and vision into measurable outcomes.
This reality extends beyond ministers to the upper echelons of the civil service. Directors, permanent secretaries, and agency heads are not operating in a political vacuum. They are instruments through which political leadership delivers governance. Ethical leadership, policy moderation, institutional integrity, favourable public perception, staff morale, and community engagement cannot be sustained without an appreciation of the political environment in which administration occurs. To pretend otherwise is to mistake theory for reality.
Public servants, whether political appointees or career administrators, therefore bear a responsibility not only to efficiency but also to public sensibility. Their communication, conduct, and professional posture inevitably shape how government is perceived. Political communication and public relations, far from being partisan excesses, often serve as corrective tools against misinformation, misrepresentation, and hostile narratives. In this sense, promoting public good, fairness, and responsibility contributes indirectly to political legitimacy without requiring crude partisanship.
This is where Prof. Yilwatda’s argument finds its strongest footing. His call challenges the notion that one can benefit from a government while simultaneously positioning oneself as an internal opposition. It confronts the ethical inconsistency of enjoying the privileges of power while undermining the collective responsibility that governance demands. From this perspective, his position seeks to sanitise a system where double loyalty has often weakened cohesion and accountability.
Yet, the argument becomes problematic when political loyalty is elevated from expectation to recruitment criterion. Insisting that professionals and technocrats must formally belong to the ruling party in order to be considered for appointment risks collapsing the boundary between political engagement and coercive conformity. It implicitly pressures academics, doctors, engineers, lawyers, scientists, and civil servants into partisan alignment as a condition for opportunity. This stance sits uneasily alongside civil service regulations that prohibit partisan political involvement, thereby exposing a structural contradiction.
Critics who argue that such pronouncements threaten constitutional order by subordinating presidential discretion to party supremacy may, however, be overstating the case. Prof. Yilwatda did not claim appointment powers reserved for the president; rather, he appeared to be articulating a policy preference intended to guide presidential discretion. The controversy, therefore, is less about constitutional authority and more about political philosophy.
More troubling is the fear that over-politicisation could further erode civil service neutrality. While it is true that complete political neutrality is largely mythical because every citizen harbours political preferences, formalising partisan loyalty as a dominant metric could encourage favouritism, suspicion, and mediocrity. It risks prioritising political enthusiasm over competence and turning public institutions into battlegrounds of internal rivalry.
Beyond institutions, there are broader social consequences. In a country grappling with mass unemployment, politics has increasingly become a perceived pathway to livelihood. Expanding the promise of patronage by encouraging more citizens, especially youths, into full-time political dependence could intensify frustration, entitlement, and disillusionment.
Political science research consistently shows that patronage systems struggle to satisfy expanding client networks, often breeding resentment rather than loyalty.
The danger, therefore, is not merely administrative inefficiency but social distortion. When politics displaces productivity, innovation, entrepreneurship, and self-reliance, it creates a generation whose hopes are tethered to politicians rather than personal capacity. As even sports rivalries demonstrate, excessive partisanship can escalate into sabotage, malice, and destructive competition. In governance, the stakes are far higher.
In the final analysis, Prof. Nentawe Yilwatda’s declaration captures an important truth: politics cannot be ignored in governance, especially at the level of political appointments. Yet, it also exposes the delicate balance required to prevent political realism from mutating into political excess. The challenge before the APC, and indeed Nigeria’s democracy is not choosing between technocracy and partisanship, but learning how to integrate political loyalty with competence, restraint, and national interest without turning governance into a zero-sum contest of belonging.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
