APC Primaries: A Party at War With Its Own Democratic Promise
By Matthew Eloyi
The All Progressives Congress (APC) entered its primary elections ahead of the 2027 General Elections with the swagger of a ruling party convinced that political dominance at the federal level would automatically translate into internal cohesion. What emerged instead was a nationwide exhibition of contradictions: consensus without consensus, direct primaries manipulated from above, parallel congresses, protests, threats of litigation, accusations of candidate imposition, and a growing feeling among party members that democratic participation inside the party has become increasingly cosmetic.
Across the country, from Lagos to Delta, from Kano to Ondo, from Ekiti to Imo, from Benue to Kogi, the APC primaries exposed a ruling party struggling to reconcile power consolidation with internal democracy. The official narrative projected by the national leadership was that the primaries were largely peaceful and successful. Yet beneath the carefully managed press statements lies a more troubling political reality: the APC’s nomination process has become less about competitive democracy and more about elite coordination, governor dominance, and the preservation of entrenched political interests.
The implications extend beyond the APC itself. As Nigeria’s ruling party, the APC’s internal processes shape the quality of democratic competition nationally. When the country’s dominant political machine weakens internal accountability, manipulates candidate emergence, or sidelines dissenting voices, the consequences inevitably spill into the wider democratic culture.
At the heart of the controversy surrounding the APC primaries is the party’s heavy dependence on so-called “consensus arrangements.” Officially, consensus is presented as a mature political mechanism designed to avoid costly and divisive contests. In practice, however, what unfolded across many states was not consensus in the democratic sense, but elite imposition dressed in procedural language.
The APC leadership repeatedly defended consensus candidacy as a tool for party stability. Yet many aspirants argued that the process lacked transparency, consultation, and fairness. In several states, aspirants who believed they had strong grassroots support alleged that lists of preferred candidates had already been prepared long before party members arrived at voting venues.
This growing resistance to consensus was visible nationwide. Aspirants openly challenged governors, party leaders, and state power brokers. In some states, those who were expected to step down refused to do so. Elsewhere, parallel primaries emerged after dissatisfied factions rejected official outcomes.
The significance of this rebellion should not be underestimated. Historically, APC governors and political godfathers have exercised enormous influence over candidate selection. The 2026 primaries demonstrated that this authority, while still formidable, is no longer uncontested. Many younger politicians and ambitious party members now view consensus as a euphemism for exclusion.
This tension reflects a deeper structural problem within the APC. The party increasingly operates as a coalition of powerful regional interests held together by access to federal power rather than by ideological coherence or institutional discipline. Once candidate selection begins, these competing ambitions inevitably collide.
Perhaps the most striking feature of the APC primaries was the overwhelming influence of state governors. In many states, governors effectively determined who received tickets for the Senate, House of Representatives, and state assemblies. The process reinforced a dangerous trend in Nigerian politics: the transformation of governors into political emperors whose authority inside their parties often surpasses democratic norms.
Many serving lawmakers discovered during the primaries that incumbency no longer guaranteed survival if they fell out of favour with governors or influential blocs within the party. Several high-profile politicians lost tickets amid allegations that local structures were manipulated to favour preferred aspirants.
The pattern repeated itself across geopolitical zones. Party executives loyal to governors controlled voters’ accreditation, venue access, security arrangements, and result announcements. In many instances, aggrieved aspirants accused state leaders of weaponising party machinery to eliminate competition before voting even commenced.
The APC leadership in Abuja frequently spoke about transparency and fairness. But the real centre of power during the primaries was not the national secretariat; it was the governors’ lodges. This over-centralisation of internal authority carries serious long-term risks for the APC. Political parties become unstable when ordinary members conclude that electoral outcomes are predetermined by elite negotiation rather than popular support. Such perceptions weaken party legitimacy and encourage defections, litigation, sabotage, and voter apathy.
Facing resistance to consensus arrangements, the APC increasingly turned toward direct primaries. On paper, direct primaries appear more democratic because they allow broader participation by party members rather than a narrow delegate class.
However, the actual implementation of direct primaries revealed significant weaknesses. Questions immediately emerged regarding membership registers, accreditation procedures, logistics, and security. In several areas, party members complained that authentic registers were unavailable or manipulated. Some aspirants alleged that voting materials arrived late or were distributed selectively. Others questioned whether all eligible members were genuinely allowed to participate.
The logistical burden of conducting nationwide direct primaries also exposed the APC’s institutional limitations. Organising transparent voting across hundreds of constituencies requires a level of administrative discipline that many Nigerian parties simply do not possess.
As a result, what should have been a democratic innovation often became an exercise vulnerable to manipulation by local power brokers. In certain constituencies, critics described the process as “direct primaries without direct participation.” This contradiction reflects a broader Nigerian political problem: electoral reforms frequently fail because political institutions remain weaker than the interests seeking to control them.
Although APC officials repeatedly described the primaries as peaceful, reports from several states painted a more complicated picture. There were allegations of intimidation, clashes between rival factions, disruption of voting processes, and attempts to hijack collation procedures. In some locations, dissatisfied aspirants rejected official results outright and announced plans to challenge outcomes legally.
Parallel primaries became especially symbolic of the APC’s internal disorder. Competing factions in some states organised separate exercises and declared different winners. Such developments expose the fragility of party cohesion beneath the surface of electoral dominance.
Parallel congresses and disputed results are not new phenomena in Nigerian politics. But their persistence inside the APC is particularly significant because the party once marketed itself as a reform-oriented alternative capable of institutional discipline. Instead, the 2026 primaries revealed that the APC increasingly resembles the very political culture it once criticised.
One of the clearest lessons from the APC primaries is that Nigerian politics remains heavily dependent on patronage networks. Behind many candidate selections were informal negotiations involving governors, ministers, influential businessmen, former officeholders, and regional political blocs. Loyalty often appeared more important than competence, grassroots mobilisation, or legislative performance.
This reality undermines one of the core principles of representative democracy: that political advancement should depend primarily on public support and performance. In many constituencies, party members complained that aspirants with stronger local appeal were denied tickets in favour of individuals perceived to have stronger elite backing.
The return of godfather politics is particularly troubling for younger politicians. Many energetic aspirants discovered that political ambition inside the APC still depends heavily on sponsorship from entrenched power centres. As long as party structures remain vulnerable to elite capture, the promise of political renewal will remain limited.
Another major consequence of the APC primaries is the growing possibility of defections. Nigerian political history demonstrates that aggrieved aspirants rarely disappear quietly after losing party tickets. Many defect to rival parties, sponsor protest candidates, or covertly sabotage official nominees. The APC is especially vulnerable to this phenomenon because its broad coalition contains multiple competing interests that are united more by access to power than by ideological conviction.
Already, signs of frustration are visible in several states. Aspirants who felt cheated have threatened litigation and rebellion. Others are reportedly exploring alliances outside the party. For the APC, the danger is not merely losing dissatisfied politicians. The larger risk is the erosion of grassroots enthusiasm. Party members who believe their votes do not matter are less likely to mobilise effectively during the general elections. Even where defectors fail to win elections elsewhere, they can weaken the APC’s internal machinery and reduce cohesion.
Although President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was not directly involved in many local contests, his political influence hovered over the primaries. The APC’s early endorsement of Tinubu for a second term created an atmosphere in which loyalty to the president became a major factor in political calculations.
In several states, aspirants perceived to be aligned with influential federal figures appeared to enjoy strategic advantages. This reinforced perceptions that the primaries were not entirely open contests. The centralisation of power around the presidency has historically shaped Nigerian ruling parties. Under the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), presidential influence often determined party outcomes. The APC once criticised that culture. Ironically, the 2026 primaries suggest the APC may now be reproducing many of the same tendencies.
The APC primaries raise important questions about the state of democracy in Nigeria itself. Political parties are supposed to function as democratic institutions where ideas compete, leaders emerge transparently, and members participate meaningfully in decision-making. When internal democracy collapses, elections become little more than elite bargaining exercises.
Nigeria’s democratic weakness does not begin on election day; it often begins inside party primaries. If candidate emergence is manipulated, voters are denied genuine choices long before the general election takes place. In effect, party elites decide outcomes before citizens cast ballots. This is why the controversy surrounding the APC primaries matters beyond partisan politics. It reflects the broader crisis of democratic accountability in Nigeria.
The APC may emerge from the primaries with official candidates in place, but the deeper wounds remain unresolved. A party can survive one flawed primary cycle. What becomes dangerous is when unfairness becomes institutionalised. Repeated accusations of imposition, manipulation, and exclusion gradually weaken organisational legitimacy. Over time, members lose faith in internal processes and increasingly rely on litigation, violence, or elite bargaining.
This weakens not only the party but also democratic culture itself. For now, the APC still benefits from incumbency, federal power, and a fragmented opposition. Those advantages may help contain immediate fallout. But the warning signs are unmistakable. The 2026 primaries exposed a ruling party struggling to balance ambition with legitimacy, power with participation, and elite control with democratic credibility.
If the APC fails to reform its internal processes, it risks becoming a party held together only by access to state power rather than by genuine political cohesion. And history shows that parties built primarily on power eventually discover that power alone is not enough.
The APC primaries were not merely routine political exercises. They were a national test of the ruling party’s democratic maturity. On that test, the results were deeply mixed. The party demonstrated organisational reach and political dominance, but it also revealed profound internal contradictions. Consensus arrangements triggered rebellion. Direct primaries exposed logistical weaknesses. Governors overshadowed institutions. Aggrieved aspirants threatened legal battles and defections. Allegations of imposition overshadowed claims of fairness.
The larger lesson is clear: Nigeria’s democratic future cannot be stronger than the internal democracy of its political parties. If parties continue to treat primaries as controlled rituals rather than genuine democratic contests, public trust in democratic institutions will continue to erode. The APC now faces a choice. It can dismiss the controversies as temporary political noise, or it can recognise the primaries as a warning that internal democracy is becoming dangerously hollow. The future of the party, and perhaps part of Nigeria’s democratic credibility, may depend on which path it chooses.